#and not be afraid to give my all and expect nothing in return like Christ was able to

[feliz-navidad]

hm

[eugeneroehoe]

Hi, @mylastresortiswriting! I was your short story gifter for HBO War Daily’s short story event! Thanks for your help in letting me know what you wanted from my anon ask. It was VERY difficult for me to write something within the word count, but I hope you enjoy what I came up with :)

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Edward ‘Babe’ Heffron & Eugene Roe

Babe can’t figure out how to deal with the after effects of war, and goes to the only person he knows can help.

Word count: 994

Going home was harder than Babe could’ve ever expected, somehow. War seemed like hell, but it wasn’t until it was over that he realized how used to it he’d become. And he wasn’t even one of the guys who had been in it from the start.

He thought about how this was the last time he’d have any reason to wear this uniform on the train home. Unless Hitler had a brother he didn’t know about, or something.

No more uniform, no more explosions, no more death. That should be a comforting thought. But when he laid back down on his real bed at home the first night, he didn’t sleep at all. He got up and went for a walk around his neighborhood as though floating, just a presence rather than a person. It was his home, and somehow he felt like he no longer belonged to it.

His family wanted to celebrate his safe return, but it only reminded him of Bill’s not-so-safe return, and made him upset. They opted for a special dinner of all of Babe’s favorite foods, but resisted inviting the entirety of Pennsylvania over and kept it to close family only. It was nice, but Babe was mostly quiet.

Anytime someone asked him a question about what he saw while he was gone, he just shook his head. There was no way he was going to ruin the innocence of his loved ones by giving them even a hint of what it really was to feed their imaginations. Imaginations were usually worse than reality when it came to thinking of horrors, but Babe thought this might be the only exception. What he saw was worse than anything a mind could conjure up.

Days turned into weeks, then months, and eventually his family gave up on asking him if he was okay. They knew the answer would always be the same lie.

Working a regular job was weird. He woke up to his mother’s soft voice calling to him instead of screaming or explosions. He’d go in, talk to his coworkers, many of whom were in the exact same situation as him, and pretend like nothing was wrong.

He visited Bill a lot after work, so much so that Bill’s ma stopped asking who was at the door when he knocked, instead just opening it for him with a smile.

Sometimes he and Bill talked, other times they said not much at all. This time had been different, though. Bill wasn’t exactly the most intuitive guy, but even he could tell something was on Babe’s mind.

“What’s wrong, kid?”

“Have you talked to any of the guys? Since?” Babe mumbled, fumbling with his sleeve to get some of his nervous energy out. He kept his eyes downcast, but he could feel Bill staring holes into his face.

“A little,” Bill answered with a small shrug that Babe couldn’t see. “Mostly Toye. I thought about writing to Winters just to say…well, I don’t know what. Somethin’. But I haven’t yet. Why?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout them. A lot. ‘Specially Gene,” Babe admits quietly, glancing up and then back down quickly, as though afraid of what Bill’s reaction would be.

Bill nodded slowly, rubbing his chin with his hand. “Hard not to. You took a liking to him, I seem to remember.”

Babe doesn’t deny it.

“Well? Didya write to him?”

“No. I don’t know what to say.”

“Then go see him.”

“What?” Babe exclaims, eyes wide. “Unannounced? That’s kinda rude…”

“Oh, Christ, Heffron. I can’t believe you of all people are worryin’ about manners.” Bill rolls his eyes and shifts on his bed.

“But if I don’t know what to say now, how the hell will I when I’m standin’ right in front of him?”

“If you really miss him, you’ll have something to say,” Bill says simply, almost dismissively. Babe knew then that he’d lost.

Then he was on the front steps of Eugene’s house, taking it in as if it were something more grand than it really was. When he’d gotten off his bus and asked the first person he saw for directions, he immediately recognized the accent and only then did he truly know how much he’d wanted to hear it again.

He’d much prefer it coming from the mouth of his friend, which would come true if he could bring himself to knock on the damn door. He sits down on the steps instead.

“Edward.”

Babe nearly jumps out of his skin and turns to look over his shoulder. After the war, he’d been so sensitized to sound, but he hadn’t even heard the door open. Gene was always like that, silent.

“How did you know I was out here?” Babe asks dumbly, too stunned to think of anything a little more touching. He quickly takes in the sight of Gene in civilian clothes, almost stunned by it. Like he’d been expecting him to open the door to his home with that same red cross on his arm.

Gene’s lips pull into one of his almost-smiles, small and subtle, and Babe feels like he might cry. “I saw your shadow through the window. Thought maybe you were a ghost.”

“Funny, I kind of feel like I am.”

“Is that why you’re here? I can’t bring back a dead person.” It’s meant to be a joke, but Gene’s eyes are empty as he says it.

“Gene, I-” Babe’s own throat won’t let him speak, and his eyes burn.

Eugene tilts his head a little, gently closes the door behind him and approaches Babe. When Babe continues to say nothing, he sits down on the step beside him. Babe just looks at him.

Babe inhales sharply. “I thought I’d know what to say.”

“Then maybe you don’t need to say anything at all.”

Babe’s shoulders drop, then he pulls the man into a hug. They stay like that, and for the first time in months, Babe feels okay.

[thegeminisage]

ok. it's star trek update time. only one day behind thankfully! wednesday i pussied out of kiraodo hell so we did voy's "threshold" and "meld" and last night we finally DID do ds9's "crossfire" and then "return to grace."

threshold (voy):

absolutely nothing that i'd heard about this episode could have prepared me for the reality of it.

firstly, it must be said, the episode IS awful. there's absolutely no point to any of it, except, vaguely, tom paris's self-esteem issues, the thing he has to tackle after conquering his daddy issues. all told though he wasn't unbearable this episode, except for maybe when he insisted on taking the 2% risk to his fucking life

that said, did i give it a "must see" on the spreadsheet? yes, absolutely, even though it comes right before meld, which i gave a "must see" in a totally different way

like, sorry, if you can't tell what kind of a time you are getting into with one vs the other i can't help you

look. the fact of the matter is firstly i didn't expect all the body horror. also i didn't expect the salamander edging ie i thought they'd be salamanders the entire time and they only were for a few minutes. and finally: their wet, heaving, salamander bodies in the fog...was enough for me.

also, PEPPERONI!

finally, what the hell even was that conversation he and janeway had at the end. why aren't they more worried about their salamander babies. none of it makes any SENSE. it's glorious

meld (voy):

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

easily. EASILY. the best voyager episode we've seen so far. prior to now it was the one with the romulan but this one blows that one out of the fucking water

first of all, did you know tuvok has 4 babies and breed orchids because it's very important and he is so important he is my special little guy. i think if i was murdered i would definitely want him solving my case. he's a very thorough detective

the like..he just COULDN'T understand violence without reason. and instead of being like "wow that guy's got horns well not gonna let it ruin my day" he turns around and MIND MELDS WITH HIM? WITH THE SERIAL KILLER? "my vulcan nature will allow me to control it" YOU ARE INSAAANE

everybody talks about spock being crazy but it's gotta be just a vulcan thing. tuvok was willing to do the shady business deal, he is ALWAYS the first to put his hand on his phaser (so jumpy...), he's always clenching his jaw (thanks cathy i'm never going to be able to unsee it), like he is so far away from home and his babies and potential grandbabies and also his orchids, except for that one spock orchid he keeps in his quarters. he is under an immense amount of pressure. he got tortured like two or three episodes ago and (worse) someone HEARD HIM SCREAM and he just has to deal with that. my best friend tuvok. where was i even going with this

i love that he's afraid of himself. like he said about the torture: sometimes you simply have no choice but to endure the experience. he tried everything suder did: the holodeck, the therapy. it didn't work. (him fake killing holo-neelix was so scary btw because it was premeditated)

and i love that he has a REASON to be afraid of himself. this is the first instance since "amok time" and "all our yesterdays" we got a glimpse of what vulcans were like before they decided to go full surak, and like NO WONDER. BECAUSE THEY WERE SCARY. between telepathy, sheer brute strength, and incredible intellect, tuvok was nearly unstoppable. he fought his demons with all the fervor of spock himself. and speaking of spock...

the doctor said (and im copypasting here) "There's a definite neurochemical imbalance in the mesiofrontal cortex. That's where the Vulcan psycho-suppression systems are located." is this to imply there is a physiological component to the emotional control vulcans have, and if yes, spock may not have access to the full range of those abilities given his half-human heritage...? ie he's potentially stuck with the strength and lasting power of vulcan emotions and attempting to stay on top of them with fragile human impulse control

i don't know if i like it better that way, or if i like it better that he DOES have that ability and all the other vulcans still judge him anyway. after all, he certainly doesn't have half a pon farr or half the strength of a vulcan, biology doesn't work that way. but it is. sorry. fascinating to think about

and finally, who would i be if i didn't mention penetration? what a fucking line that was. i want to paste it over some spones screenshots. good fucking lord

sorry to make this voyager episode about tos. janeway and tuvok remind me SO much of kirk and spock i can't help but be into it a little even though i know their platonic friendship is really important and everything. i wouldn't have been mad if tuvok was single, you know? especially since, sigh, chakotay ends up with seven. he was so afraid of hurting her physically and then he hurt her emotionally and he was SO contrite...kill me

crossfire (ds9):

i don't want to talk about it.

actually wait yes i do. this episode wasn't fair to sisko. he NEVER yells at his people for no reason especially when it's clear they are normally competent and they're having trouble bc of emotional reasons. he sits down and talks to them about it! this was character assassination

okay and fine while i am talking about it i will also say i was pleasantly surprise by quark and the quark/odo. i'm gonna be a kira/odo girlie forever but i have been DYING for quark to do something interesting or with some emotional weight and he MET the challenge. this was the last person i expected to figure odo out, but in the end i don't think there could have been a better choice. odo said he didn't want sympathy and he meant it, and anyone besides quark would have attempted to give it to him (except maybe worf, lol)

oh, speaking of worf, their shared autism conversation...they need routines...personal space...love that for them

sorry, back to quark, it was REALLY funny when he gestured to his ears and went "hello?" it's exactly how i talk in 2024 so it got a huge laugh out of me

i don't dislike shakaar, and i did like a lot of cute kira/odo moments in this ep, but i think the elevator thing was stupid. i think it was also kind of rude for kira to be 20 minutes late to their meeting on both a personal and professional level and then be like :( when odo decided not to do them anymore. there was a lot of classic "friendzone" tropes in this episode, which weren't as tired and aged then as they are now, but jesus

anyway, i can comfort myself by knowing they go canon in the end. ik a lot of people hate them as a couple and i have a vague understanding that some of the bumps along the road continue to have these vibes, but i am prepared to ignore all that as long as they start kissing eventually

final note i read this on memory alpha:

this, but he saves kira instead and shakaar almost dies, and THAT'S when he has his breakdown about his love life interfering with his job/who he is and decides to attempt to get some distance. that would have been a much cleaner episode and also more gentle. idk why the think what they have is gentle. it was pretty brutal in places

return to grace (ds9):

man, every time they bring dukat in he becomes more complex and more layered and interesting. and we NEVER miss a beat with this guy. i was just saying aloud "this is all extremely fun and funny but i wish we remembered more often he ran a labor camp and did war crimes" and literally less than three minutes later they were discussing the fact that he did war crimes

like, you spend this whole episode thinking he's laying the moves on kira bc of his bajoran fetish/he's single now (which: lmao) and kira straight-up says "what he wants from me is forgiveness" when we as viewers got tricked into thinking what he wanted from her was the strap. (or, you know, both. one must be intrinsically linked to the other, naturally.)

and it si funny. again, they have that q and picard energy. the more he wants her the less she wants him and the less she wants him the more he wants her. he is a disgusting little creature and will Never be worthy of the strap!!!

love also that kira was like yeah you know what if you wanna run off half cocked fine i will raise your baby. you cant turn her into a little terrorist i cannot let you radicalize the child. that's twice she's wound up saving his daughter now

though i DEEPLY loved these two episodes with kira and dukat, i also miss when dukat had some weird gay thing going on with sisko. what, bc sisko's got a gf now he's just supposed to bow out gracefully? not my dukat

anyway, it was absolutely amazing to see kira in her element here, but i think it was such important character development that she goes "no, this isn't secretly what i live for, this TRAUMATIZED me, and i will live with the effects for the rest of my entire life." a lot of people on star trek post-war episodes have picked fights just so they could keep on fighting, because they quite literally don't know what to do with themselves otherwise. they NEED the war, they NEED the enemy. kira doesn't, and you get the sense she's only just now realizing that about herself. it's such a subtle but important bit of growth <3

NEXT TIME: ds9's "sons of mogh" and potentially voy's "dreadnaught" depending on time

[benditlikepress]

one good movie kiss

here for @sunforgrace 's thesis statement: give dean one good movie kiss and he WILL be alright

“Are you avoiding me?”

Dean’s hand stills in the air above his cup of coffee as the voice cuts through the kitchen.

Cas is standing in the middle of the room in an ill-fitting sweater and his hair is dishevelled as though he’s been tossing and turning. He looks so unremarkable, so human, it makes Dean’s breath catch in his throat at the reminder.

It’s been three days since Cas got back and it occurs to Dean when he speaks that it’s the first time they’ve been alone together. Awake, that is: Dean realised early on that difficult conversations couldn’t happen if you’re asleep. Thank god for Cas’ Empty-rescue hangover.

“No. I’m not avoiding you.”

“OK. Good. I was worried that after what happened things might be weird between us, but I suppose that’s unavoidable.” Cas pulls a face that’s a little self-deprecating.

I’m fighting the urge to run the hell away from you, Dean thinks. To stay the hell away from you before I do anything else to hurt you. Before you make a reckless decision to save me, again, or say something so brutal and true that my legs give out from under me and I’m left sitting alone on the floor wondering how the hell I’m supposed to do this on my own.

I’m fighting the urge to wrap you in my arms and never let go.

“I’m not avoiding you, Cas. I just.. I’m trying to figure out the stuff I have to say to you.”

“I understand. I know everything that’s happened recently is a lot to contend with.”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement.” Dean coughs and stands up, tapping his hands against his legs for something to do. Cas is looking at him expectantly and Dean knows he deserves answers but how is he supposed to do that? How do you even begin to explain to someone that their mere presence in the room has your breath hitching? “But it’s not.. you. It’s not you I’m avoiding. It’s just. Y’know. The stuff you said before you..” He doesn’t say it. He can’t. Cas blinks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. That’s – god, that’s the last thing I want. I’m just.. trying to get my head around it.”

“I meant it.”

“I know you did. I know that. I just.. I believe you, and nobody’s ever really said that stuff to me and meant it before. So I don’t really know how to talk to you about it. But I.. so long as you know I appreciate it.” The words are too fast and Dean doesn’t know if that’s more or less embarrassing than the way he’s stumbling, pathetic half-words forcing their way out of his mouth.

“OK.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

And it’s that simple to him, apparently. He doesn’t ask Dean for anything else. It pisses Dean off, actually – he wants Cas to ask him. Maybe if he’s forced to confront it the words might come out a little easier.

“I mean, you know that I.” Dean stops again abruptly and jesus christ why is there a lump in his throat? “It means something. To me. It means a whole lot, actually. Maybe if it didn’t it’d be easier to talk about. There’s stuff that I wanna.. stuff I need for you to hear. That you deserve to hear, when I get my head out of my ass. Because I don’t feel like I deserve any of that crap you said to me, but you deserve to hear things back.”

It feels like a monumental admission but it’s clearly not the thing on Cas’ mind as he frowns.

“You think you don’t deserve that? You really believe that?”

“Honestly? I’ve never believed it. I don’t know why you give me the time of day half the time, man. And you don’t have to.. argue about it, or anything. I know you want to. It’s just how I see it.”

Cas thinks about that for a couple of seconds, eyes boring into Dean so deeply he half-wonders if he can’t still see his soul. He walks further into the room but doesn’t approach Dean – not really. Just takes a couple of steps between the distance.

“I won’t argue. Not now. But I hope I can make you understand that you deserve it. Happiness, peace.. love-” The word has Dean’s mind reeling, flashbacks and heat rushing “– I spent a long time believing I couldn’t accept them for myself. I thought too much had happened, or that I wasn’t built to be capable. You allowed me to think differently. I want you to do the same.” Cas looks down and taps his hand on the edge of the table as though he hasn’t got Dean’s heart in the palm of it. He looks up again and his expression is breath-takingly earnest. “Dean, the things I said barely touch the sides. I don’t know if I could ever put into words the impact you’ve had on me since we met. I just wanted you to understand. I needed you to understand how other people see you, even if you can’t see it for yourself.”

“Message received.” Dean responds like a fucking asshole but Cas smiles all the same, warm and knowing and in a way that fills Dean with the relief of being understood.

“I can give you space to think about things if that’s what you want. I know I’ve put you in a difficult position.”

“It’s not difficult. Probably not for anyone else except me.”

Dean smiles in derision and Cas returns it but it’s pity and sadness and love and Dean’s mouth closes. “It was difficult. I threw things at you that’d been on my mind for a long time and didn’t give you any time to process it.”

“I’ve had weeks. Weeks and weeks, and I still can’t.. I think until I saw you again I had no idea how to understand it. Looking you in the eye and thinking about it-” Dean closes his eyes and pushes away black ooze and secrets and everything else that threatens to flow over the things he wants to remember. Tears in Cas’ eyes and his smile so bright, brighter than Dean even thought him capable.

He’s looking at him now like he might break.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I know I’m not-”

“I know exactly what you are, Dean.” The words are clear and sincere and Dean wonders if there’s anyone else in the universe capable of arresting him so simply. “I’ll leave you to it.” Cas eventually nods at Dean’s breakfast and smiles, dipping his head as he starts to leave.

“We’ll talk. We will.”

“I know we will.” He smiles a little as he turns to walk away and suddenly Dean’s heart is in his mouth at the sight of the back of his head.

Say something. Say something.

“Cas.” Dean calls too quickly, too desperately, and when he turns to look at him with naked expectation all of the wind is knocked right back out of his sails. “I… fuck, Cas. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He smiles with complete and utter sincerity, and god he has to stop doing that. Stop accepting Dean’s bullshit as though it’s nothing. Shout, argue, anything.

He’s leaving. He’s still leaving, he’s turning away and suddenly Dean’s legs are propelling him through the kitchen of their own accord.

Dean grabs his arm and yanks him around, the force of it making Cas briefly stumble a little before he straightens his feet and looks at Dean with a wide-eyed confusion that makes Dean’s heart hammer in his chest.

Dean brings his hands up to cup Cas’ face around his ears on his neck and jaw, in a way he has before and convinced himself wasn’t ever possible when they weren’t battling life or death. Cas’ stubble is a little longer than usual and he strokes the line of it with his thumb, watching as Cas’ mouth falls open just a touch in the echoing silence.

Dean takes his time, registering every mini-movement of expression in Cas’ face as he understands what’s happening. His hand comes up to Dean’s wrist but doesn’t push it away, rather grips it for dear life as though he’s afraid it’s going to disappear. When Cas’ eyes travel down his face Dean takes it as invitation and closes the gap between them, pressing his lips lightly but surely against Cas’.

At first Cas’ are stunned frozen against his and Dean starts to panic that he’s made some kind of earth-shattering error in judgement before the hand on his wrist relaxes and he feels a pressure against his mouth. Cas’ lips are a little chapped, like always, and Dean feels his eyelashes flutter.

He opens his eyes reluctantly as he pulls away, not sure what he’s expecting to see (rejection? Lucifer? nothing at all?) and almost slams them shut again when he finds Cas peering at him with such utter arresting devotion he thinks his knees might buckle.

Dean’s hands drop to his sides of their own accord, suddenly absolutely terrified, but Cas doesn’t move away in return. In fact, he brings his hand to Dean’s cheek and Dean’s sure he must look like a fish opening and closing his mouth in stunned silence before suddenly Cas moves in to kiss him again, other hand coming up to grab his face and hold him in place as his lips are ferocious and impassioned against his own.

And this, this is more like it, Dean’s barely able to think as Cas’ mouth opens and his tongue plays along the line of Dean’s own lips, his heart hammering in his chest as he hears a noise in Cas’ throat as he allows him entrance.

Cas kisses like he’s never going to get another chance: like Dean has granted him a once-in-a-lifetime wish that’s going to get taken away at any moment. He’s hungry and sharp and warm and Dean feels breathless as he lowers his hands from his face to his neck and then to his hip, pulling Dean sharply against him as Dean’s own hands cup his jaw and try desperately to gain a semblance of control.

There’s stubble scratching his face and he tries fleetingly to explain away the flushing burn on his skin as a by-product of it, but then there’s a hand riding up his shirt onto on the bare skin at the small of his back and it’s on fire.

Where the hell did Cas learn to kiss like this? His head is spinning before he can ponder the question and fingers on his back are steady and grounding even as Cas’ tongue and lips and breath have him practically able to feel the earth spinning beneath him.  

The kiss slows steadily and then all at once as Cas’ lips lighten against his, and he feels him exhale against his skin in a release that Dean himself is desperate for. He knows it’ll come, eventually: in every moment he allows himself to open like this, touch on his skin making him feel alive.

Cas pulls away and Dean feels a longing form deeply and harshly in his throat that barely stops him from yanking him straight back in again. He forces himself to open his eyes, wondering if Cas can see water pricking in the corners of them.

“Don’t give me space, Cas. I don’t want it.” He manages to say though his voice sounds foreign and weird to his own ears, like it’s formed by someone else. There’s that smile on Cas’ lips again and he feels a desperation to say something, anything, that’ll keep it frozen in time. “Just stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.” Cas’ own voice is quiet now and Dean’s fingers somehow find themselves reaching out towards Cas’ hand, pulling it a little.

“You wanna do something today?” He says, just for something to say. Anything to prolong the moment.

“OK.”

“Sweet.” Dean nods and tips his head away, running a hand through his hair to try to gain some composure as Cas smiles at him as though nothing’s happened.

Dean has to pinch himself to check that it has.

[danniburgh]

Morning Delight (Javier Peña x f!reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You have a boyfriend and he’s really great, but Javier Peña is selfish and he’s jealous and he wants you all for him.

Word count: +2.1k

Warnings: well; smut, (p in v), fingering, spitting (just a bit), unprotected sex, (please wear condoms) 1 degrading word (sl*t), infidelity (not condoning it), me trying to make terrible metaphors, 

A/N: i got an ask and while writing what was supposed to be a small drabble it grew and well now we are here, writing a os when i have 4 waiting in line to be written :) (bold phrases are the asked prompts)

Masterlist // Read on ao3 // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

“Hello, gorgeous,” Brandon, your boyfriend, allowed himself into the office you shared with your partners, the three of you lifted your heads to see him and you gave him a smile, he was standing in front of your desk holding a paper bag and a carton cup “brought you breakfast,”

“You shouldn’t have, baby,” you received the food from him and he leaned down to give you a short kiss, “thank you,” you muttered and he wrinkled his nose.

“See you for lunch?” he asked you softly and you nodded. He then walked out giving you a last glance and winking through the open door.

You could feel the stares of your partners, one of them heavier than the other, you looked at Steve and he had a teasing smirk adorning his face. You rolled your eyes and tossed him the paper bag, he quickly caught it and without hesitating opened it and rummaged around it, then you looked at Javier, sitting across the room from you and noticed the deep frown that made his face quirk and his brown eyes harden, locking his gaze on yours. He said nothing to you nor to Steve when he passed the bag to him.

Steve cleared his throat absentmindedly from his desk and kept on taping while eating and you broke eye contact (or stare contest) with Javier, returning to do what you were doing.

Soon enough you finished all your reports and you stood up to return some of them to the records room, when you entered and were about to close the door a foot got in between it and the frame to stop it from closing, the sudden action startled you and before your brain could fully comprehend what was going on the door opened, Javier got inside the room and closed the door, locking it.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked under his breath, you frowned,

“What?”

“Don’t play fool, baby,” he stepped closer to you, and when you were about to tell him, yet again, to not call you that, he spoke again “what do you think you’re doing kissing that boy like that in the office?” you snorted.

“What?” you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing “who do you think you are?” the rhetoric made Javier’s jaw clench and he gave another step closer to you, towering over your body, you looked at his hardened face and at his dilated pupils, you sighed at the way his body warmth was just starting to mingle with yours “wait, are you jealous?” you questioned with a smirk “really?”

His chest puffed as he filled it with air and deflated when he let it out, almost blowing on your face, he was so close you could feel the way his body was reacting to you and the way you were looking at him. Then Javier licked his lips and you knew exactly what that meant.

“Don’t,” you whispered, it was his turn to smirk to you “don’t you dare,” 

“C’mon, chiquita,” Javier let his hand stationed on your hip as he made you get impossibly closer to him, pressing you against his body “’s not like it would be our first time,” 

“My boyfriend would kill us,” you warned, actually worried, you liked Brandon, you really did, he was different than Javier and for you that was an excellent thing; Brandon wasn’t afraid of tell you what he wanted or how he felt, he was a fantastic listener, he was funny and charismatic in the sense that you would ask him for directions on the street if you were lost, he was cute and sweet and someone you could see yourself dating for a long time. But Javier... Javier had you wrapped around his finger since the first time he had laid eyes on you, since he had touched you, since his hands made your skin feel like burning from the inside out, since his kisses lingered on your body for days.

“That boy won’t do shit, even if he finds out,” his tone dropped an octave and his other hand landed on the small of your back just above the hem of your blazer and the waistband of your skirt and you instantly became putty under his touch. 

“Fuck,” your voice was so low it could had been confused for a soft sigh, and as your body warmed up against Javier’s hands, his mouth trapped yours and started devouring it.

Javier’s kiss in the past had been hardly soft, some of them were cautious, some were firm, you weren’t expecting anything gentle, but the way he was kissing you was unprecedented for you, he was moving against your lips as if he wanted to absorb your every thought, as if he wanted to be your main source of oxygen, as if he wanted to breathe you in and never breathe you out. Javier’s hands slipped down your blazer and your blouse and he started massaging your breasts over the soft cloth of your bra.

“Why is that boy so special? huh?” he muttered against the skin of your jaw as he nibbled it and down your neck, your hands could barely respond to your brain, curling around his neck, playing with the hair of his nape as you knew he liked, forgetting everything about Brandon and about the place you were at the moment, the only thing that invaded your mind was Javier and his smell of coffee, cigarette smoke, the aftershave he put on in the morning and how much you fucking missed his rough touch. “what does he do to you that you let him kiss you in front of everyone?” his voice was rough and low and it sounded like a feral grumble and it made you moan, one of his hands slid from your chest to your thigh over your skirt and then slowly moved upwards, lifting it. Jesus Christ, he was doing it so slow you were sure your skin would scream against his touch if it could.

“He–he,” you tried to say, he cut your sentence before it could really start when he kissed you again, this time rougher, formless, just two mouths moving against each other as his hand under your skirt played with the hem of your panties and slowly, painfully slow, moved inside of it to your mound. Your skin was on fire, you were sure you were about to combust right then and there. “Javi–” his finger played with your clit and you felt your knees weaken, he tightened the grip on your back and he started circling the bundle of nerves leisurely “more” you begged and you could feel his smirk on your skin.

“What was that?” he teased, adding another finger to his ministrations, pressing against your clit almost achingly, he knew you, he knew you so damn well.

“More, Javi, more,” you said and brought yourself back to his mouth, licking his lips, his circling went faster and you smiled contently against his kiss.

“Has he ever touched you like this, chiquita?” he asked under his breath and you shook your head as he dragged his fingers through your slit and into your cunt “has he ever made you this wet?”

“Oh, oh sh–shit, Javi,” you moaned and he bit your lower lip and moved back to your neck, his fingers curled inside you and he already knew where exactly to press to make you come undone on his hand, the heel of his palm pressed your clit and his fingers stretched you so deliciously it was really a wonder why you two had stopped fucking. “god, Brandon could never,” you mumbled as you bit his shoulder over his jacket, he bit your neck when you mentioned your boyfriend’s name and that was the last drop, your orgasm hit your belly and made your legs shake, you bit his jacket harder to muffle your moan as he helped you ride down your climax.

“C’mere,” he removed his hand from your panties and you whined softly at the loss of his touch, Javier pulled you from the center of the room to stand in front one foggy, yellowy window that barely allowed any light into the room “turn around,” he said, it wasn’t an order, he wasn’t like that, but in the heat of the moment he said things with such authority you barely contradicted him, you did and then realized what he wanted to do.

“Against the window? are you insane?” you frowned, and he gave you a hooded-eyed smile.

“You know me, baby, pull your panties off,” you saw him unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants and with a teasing roll of your eyes you did. There had been a long time since you fucked in that room at all, Brandon found it too risky, but not your Javier Peña, for him this was delightful. You slid your skirt up and let it crumple around your waist “that’s my good girl, so fucking ready for me to fuck her,” Javier didn’t waste anytime and rolled down your panties, he gently kicked your feet to separate your legs and you leaned down as far as your surroundings allowed you. You felt his hands grip your hips, and you got ready for him to slide in when instead you felt his tongue flattening against your soaked folds.

“Shit,” you whimpered and dropped your head back, curving your back and pressing your pussy against his face, god he shouldn’t really be doing that, you were gone far too long already. The sudden moment of clarity soon went to shit when he spit on your pussy and stood up and with practiced dexterity he slid his cock inside you. You let out a small whimper as he stayed still for a few seconds and rounded his arm around your waist for leverage. 

“I want you to scream my name, baby,” he whispered in your ear and you shivered under him, he started pounding into you and making your mouth produce the most dirty sounds you thought it could ever produce, “c’mon, preciosa, fucking scream,” you shook your head as he slid his hand under your blouse and bra and played as he could with your nipple, your moans and gasps grew louder and you tried, really tried to muffle your noises, you tried to bring your hand to your mouth but Javier nimbly moved the arm that embraced you and trapped both your hands with it, angling his hips to hit inside you harder and rougher, you moaned again, “louder, I want Brandon to hear you,” your breath hitched as you remembered your boyfriend and Javier chuckled behind you, thrusting into your cunt faster as he could “I want him to hear how his dear girl likes to be fucked,”

“Javi–Javier, I’m so close,” you clenched around him and he let out a small groan “more, more, I’m almost there,” you demanded, pressing your hips against his as he hit the small spot inside you that made your eyes roll inside your head.

“So fucking greedy, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, you felt his warm tongue licking the shell of your ear and you moaned again “what would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?” Javier whispered in your ear and then bit your lobe, taking you to the edge and then dropping you off the cliff, you drowned the scream that was rising in your chest and instead let out a growl that made you sound like a feral creature which at the moment you pretty much were. Javier felt your walls clench around him, making it almost impossible to keep thrusting into you and it drove him off the cliff as well, cuming inside you and filling you with a familiar warm thickness.

The room was silent for a few seconds, as you were trying to recover from the orgasms you just had pulled out of each other. Then it filled with your panting and the ruffling of your clothes being straightened and put back where they were before that… slip.

“Shit,” you mumbled as Javier helped you button your blazer “we really shouldn’t have done this,” your eyes dropped to the floor, Javier said nothing for a few seconds, he stared at you, as if studying you, as if he was trying to bring himself to say something.

“Break up with him,” he spat, you frowned and looked at him in pure disbelief, who did he think he was? “I want you for me,” your frown only deepened, he for the first time since he had been your partner left you speechless “fuck, I get so jealous when I see you with that… with him,” he mumbled and you saw him actually doubt himself, “I think… I think I’m in love with you”

“Oh, fuck me,” you let out, amazed and happy that he had told you the words you were waiting to hear from him since god-knows-when. And sad and angry that you had to break Brandon’s heart like that.

“I think I just did,”

[teenwolffanclub-me]

How Drunk Are You? (Stiles Stilinski x Reader)

Summary: You and your best friend, Stiles, can’t decide who’s more drunk after a night out with the pack. It doesn’t take long for your little competition to get out of hand.

Word count: 4,752

Warnings: drunk (but consensual) sexy times

Notes: I got this idea while drunk and may have gotten a little carried away but this one really just spoke to me so here ya go 😅

———————————————————————

You tumble out of the Uber, nearly falling flat on your face before a firm hand juts out of the car to steady you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” Stiles chuckles from behind you as he steps out onto the sidewalk. “You’re way more fucked up than I thought.”

You twirl around to face him, nearly losing your balance for the second time. You furrow your brows and poke a finger into his chest harshly.

“You, sir, are wrong. I’m completely sober.” You wobble a bit in your heels, and he just rolls his eyes before slamming the car door shut and waving off your driver.

He takes only one step forward before his knees buckle, almost sending him crumpling to the ground beside you. He puts a hand on your shoulder to steady himself, breaking into a fit of giggles at his own intoxicated state. He’s trying to be the responsible one but honestly, he may be more gone than you.

You can’t help but laugh along with him as you help each other to your front door. Once there, you try turning the knob before realizing with a huff that you have to unlock it first. You let go of Stiles, who nearly loses his balance again, to rummage through your purse for the keys.

The bag suddenly seems endless as you shove receipts, sticks of gum, lip gloss, and other random shit out of the way to find your keychain. Finally, after what feels like several minutes to your drunk brain, you find them.

“Ah ha!” You call triumphantly and hold them up against your dim porch light.

“Hey. I’ll prove I’m more sober.” Stiles perks up with an idea, his caramel eyes dancing with amusement. “I bet I can unlock the door without looking.”

A laugh bubbles in your chest at the image of him doing that, and you instantly hand him the keys. You don’t think he’s actually coherent enough to succeed, but you know it’ll be entertaining to watch him try.

He waggles his eyebrows at you as he takes the keys and turns so that his back is to the door. He fumbles around blindly, chewing on his bottom lip in concentration. Your breathing slows as your eyes track the movement. You swallow thickly, feeling the familiar attraction you have for your best friend—that you usually keep tightly packed away—rise to the surface.

Admittedly, you’re a horny drunk. You can’t help but flirt with everyone and anyone you encounter while out partying, including your best friends that you’d never consider sleeping with, not even while intoxicated. But Stiles was a different story.

You’d been attracted to the spaz since you met him freshman year, although it was clear nothing was going to happen due to his obsession with a certain raven haired beauty. That was a couple years ago at this point, and he’d moved on, but the two of you were much too close to act on any lingering feelings now.

You laugh again as he continually fails to unlock the door, and decide to help him out. You lean forward, your chest only an inch away from his, and wrap your fingers around his hand. He stiffens against you, but you don’t notice through your drunk haze.

You peer over his shoulder and guide the key to where it needs to be, easily unlocking the door within seconds.

“You lose.” You quip, standing up straight to smirk at him before popping the door open and skipping inside.

What you don’t see is the way Stiles stands there for several moments collecting himself. You hadn’t even done anything, he thought. You’d barely touched him and here he was, clutching his chest in an effort to slow his racing heart. He was so screwed, being alone with you right now, but he was also way too drunk to do anything about it.

He clears his throat and finally walks inside, closing and locking the door behind him. Even while completely plastered, he knows a random supernatural creature could attack at any moment. Not that a wooden door would do much to keep them out, but the action was just muscle memory at this point.

He finds you lounging on the couch, your legs dangling over the armrest. He scratches at the side of his head as his eyes trail over you, trying his best not to make his simmering lust obvious. You were easily the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and that was when you were wearing sweats.

Right now, with you laying there, your skirt riding up and your breasts peaking out from the low neckline of your crop top, he was finding it hard to control his attraction.

“It’s my turn.” You push yourself up onto your elbows and let your eyes sweep around your living room and kitchen. “I bet I can make the fries I have in my freezer without burning the whole place down.”

Stiles groans excitedly at the idea. Anything greasy sounds like the absolute best thing he could put into his stomach right now. He nods encouragingly and you sway to your feet, giggling as you almost fall once again. You take a detour and slide your heels off at the front door, sighing with content as your feet finally relax.

He follows close behind you as you prance your way into the kitchen, telling himself it’s to keep you safe but knowing it’s actually because it gives him an amazing view of your ass. You preheat the oven and pop the freezer open before crouching down to rummage through your cabinets for a pan.

Stiles wants to avert his eyes. He wants to be a respectable young man and not openly gawk at his best friend, but he can see the edge of your red lacy panties with you bending over like that. He chews on his bottom lip and watches as you search for whatever it is you’re looking for. He can’t even remember what you’re supposed to be doing with your body on display like that.

You finally find the right pan for the job and pull it out with a triumphant smile before standing upright, much to Stiles’ dismay. You place the baking sheet on the stovetop and pour out a heaping pile of fries before resealing the bag and putting them away.

You turn on your heel to face your best friend, who was still somewhat in a daze, giving him jazz hands with a big grin.

“Ta-da!” You bounce your way over to the large island in the middle of your kitchen, proud of yourself for completing the first step of your bet.

Stiles’ hooded eyes follow you, his heart racing in his chest. He honestly can’t believe how lucky he is to call you his best friend. The two of you—along with the pack of course—had gone through so much the last few years. It was a miracle any of you were still alive, although not all of you were.

It was with the realization, that life is short and that he loves the shit out of you, that he decides to throw caution to the wind. You jump up onto the island, blissfully unaware of the breakthrough he just made. He gulps, the sight of you level with him now, your mini skirt all hiked up around your thighs and your tight crop top giving him a peak of midriff almost too much to handle.

He isn’t sure if he’ll regret this in the morning, but he’s also too drunk to care. Right now, he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything. He walks toward you slowly, his eyes trailing up and down your form as if it’s the first time he’s seeing it.

Your brows furrow at his sudden change in demeanor, the darkness swirling in his caramel eyes too hard to decipher from this distance. You watch closely as he moves forward until he’s only a foot away. He leans down, still taller than you even while you’re sitting on the counter, each of his hands bracing against the marble beside your hips.

“Stiles...?” Your voice trials off in question as you search his face.

“I bet,” He swallows down the last bit of hesitation bubbling in his throat and lets his eyes flutter down to your lips. “You won’t kiss me right now.”

Your breath catches at his words. Your eyes widen and you aren’t even sure you heard him correctly. Your mind instantly starts racing with questions. Is he just saying this because he’s drunk? Or could he possibly return the feelings you’ve been harboring for years?

To be completely honest, you don’t really care. You’ve wanted him for so long, and he looks ridiculously enticing in his red flannel and black bomber jacket. It was the alcohol that made you do it, sure, but it was more so the fact that you’ve wanted to kiss this man since you met him.

You cup the sides of his face and jerk him down to you, closing those last few inches. Your lips wrestle with his and he stiffens against you as if surprised, despite being the one to initiate this. The kiss isn’t pretty. It’s messy and heated. A battle of tongues and teeth as both of you fight for dominance.

One of his hands moves to your exposed knee, the other gripping your waist firmly. He lets out a broken moan against you, his head tilting to give him more room to devour you. Your hands tangle in his hair and you arch into him as his long fingers tentatively slide beneath the edge of your crop top.

Internally, he’s freaking the fuck out. He didn’t think you’d actually do it. He fully expected you to laugh the bet off and move on, but here you are. Kissing the shit out of him. He knows that he will never be able to come back from this moment. No matter what happens after this, he has to have you.

You pull away first, breathless, not from the kiss itself but because it’s him. It’s Stiles. Your best friend. You’re honestly a little surprised that he’s such a good kisser. Sure, he’s had girlfriends over the years, but damn.

The two of you sit painfully still for several moments. Stiles is afraid that if he moves even an inch, he’ll break whatever spell had come over you. He leans forward minutely, desperately wanting to kiss you again, but you press a hand to his chest and practically shove him away.

His eyes widen as he stumbles back, nearly falling to the floor, panic tightening in his chest. Did he fuck up? You regret it already? Is everything ruined forever?

You chew on your bottom lip as you look at him. His hair is all wild, his cheeks are flushed, his lips are plump and glistening. He’s sex on legs, and you’ve barely even gotten a taste. That one kiss is all it took to ignite the lust that’d been simmering within you all night.

You pull in a shaky breath, knowing that if you’re ever going to make a move, it has to be right now.

“I bet,” You say slowly, your voice low and sultry as you watch his eyes flicker over your face. “I can make you hard without even touching you.”

Stiles sputters silently, brain short circuiting at your words. He’s frozen in place. He wants to pump a fist into the air because this is actually happening but his muscles won’t move. He just nods, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

You giggle at his dumbstruck expression as you jump down from the island, the food on the stove completely forgotten. The edge of your lips twitch up into a smirk when you take a small step toward him and he stiffens. A surge of confidence moves through you at the sight of unmistakable desire in his eyes.

You hold his gaze as you grip the edge of your top and peel it over your head slowly. You’re suddenly very grateful that past you chose to wear your favorite matching red lacy set. Stiles’ eyes instantly trail down your exposed torso, although they keep flickering back to your breasts as if unable to look away.

You run your hands slowly along your shoulders, over your chest, and down your stomach. Stiles watches every one of your movements like they’re supplying the air he needs to breathe. You push your thumbs into the waistband of your mini skirt and pull it down a fraction of an inch before letting it go with a snap against your skin.

Stiles jumps at the sound, his glazed eyes locked onto the place your hands had just been. You take a few steps toward him, swaying slightly, and can’t help but giggle. This situation really is pretty ridiculous. You’re in your kitchen, preforming a strip tease for your best friend. It’s not something you ever thought you’d do.

You don’t stop until you’re only inches away from his heaving chest. You bat your eyelashes up at him and turn around so your back is just a hairs length from him. You bend over slowly, flicking your hair over your shoulder to look up at him as you wiggle your hips sensually.

You hear his shaky intake of breath and can’t help but smirk. If you’d known the effect you had on him, you would’ve done this years ago. He’s absolutely itching to touch you. His fingers are twitching at his sides in anticipation, but he doesn’t want to overstep your boundaries.

He wants to take you. To claim you as his. Pull you back against him and ravish you like the goddess you are. But he holds himself back. The ball is in your court, and he’s going to let you have your fun until he’s sure you’re ready for him.

You stand up straight and turn to face him, eyes skimming down to the obvious bulge at the front of his jeans. A slow smile pulls at your lips.

“You lose again.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. You’re afraid that if you speak any louder, it’ll break this tension, this electricity between you.

It’s at this moment that he snaps, his earlier thoughts instantly forgotten. He just can’t take it anymore. He’s been restraining himself for years and right now, after the show you just gave him, he can’t wait even a second longer to have you.

At once, you’re in his arms. He leans forward and captures your lips with his, sliding his palms down the backs of your legs before hiking them up around his waist. You squeal against him and tighten your thighs to hold yourself up.

His hands are on your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he blindly walks both of you toward the stairs. He doesn’t need to look. He has the entire layout of your house memorized after being here almost daily for years. He clambers up to the second floor, staggering and pausing a few times to deepen your kisses.

You feel feverish. His skin on yours is causing some sort of reaction. You’re burning up, hot crackling desire twisting in your stomach. You don’t even realize that he shoves his way through your bedroom door until he tosses you onto your bed. You bounce a few times, bracing your hands on the soft mattress to keep yourself upright.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him at the foot of your bed. He’s looking at you with this heat, this need. It makes you want to give him anything he asks for. You’re his, whether he knows it yet or not. You’re completely gone for your spaz of a best friend.

He suddenly takes a step forward and grips your ankles in each of his hands. He jerks you toward him until your legs are dangling off the edge of the bed. He pulls them apart and stands between them before dropping to his knees. Your eyes widen knowingly, a spark of excitement igniting in your chest.

“I bet I can make you cum in less than five minutes.” He smirks at the awestruck expression overtaking your face.

You nod your head enthusiastically, wanting nothing more than for him to ease the throbbing need between your legs. He runs his fingers up your shins, torturously slow, before stopping to squeeze your thighs gently. His eyes never leave yours as he moves higher and higher, dangerously close to exactly where you want him.

Stiles leans up and connects your lips again, this time a languid kiss as he lightly guides you down to the bed. You prop yourself up onto your elbows as he peppers gentle kisses down the column of your throat. A shudder moves through you at the feeling of his hair brushing against your heated skin as he moves across your collarbone.

He traces a path down your chest, stopping at your breasts to lap at your hardened nipples. You moan loudly, the feeling of his warm breath against you, along with the course material of your lacy bra enough to make you cum on its own.

He moves lower and lower until his fingers slide beneath the waistband of your skirt. His lips never leave you as he tugs it down over your hips before discarding it somewhere on the floor behind him. Your panties quickly join the pile as you shiver on your bed, dripping core now exposed to the chilly air of your bedroom.

Stiles’ darkened eyes flicker up toward yours as he parts your thighs and dives between them. You cry out when his tongue expertly brushes your clit, throwing your head back against the mattress. One of his hands glides up to squeeze your hip, while the other teases your entrance.

A pitiful whimper escapes you when he inserts a finger. It’s so long and thick and wow you’re really doing this with your best friend. He groans against you, sending delicious vibrations through your body. One of your hands tangles in his hair, pulling harshly when he flicks his tongue against your sensitive bud again.

You steal a glance down toward him and feel your heart swell at the look he’s giving you. His eyes are shining with adoration as he laps at your core like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Your eyes roll back when he pushes another finger inside you and starts pumping them quickly. You feel your stomach tightening already as his free hand snakes up to pinch your nipples delicately.

“Stiles...” You murmur breathlessly, back arching as another wave of pleasure crashes down onto you.

He nearly explodes in his jeans at the sound of his name on your lips like that. His eyes pinch shut as he tries to reel in his own desire so he can fully focus on you. He groans against you at the feeling of your core clenching around his fingers. He pulls them almost completely free before slamming them back inside, smirking at the way it makes you whine.

All it takes is one more lick against your clit, and you’re coming. You cry out, your body trembling from head to toe as intense waves of pleasure move through you. Stiles can’t help but moan at the sound as his free hand slides across your stomach to push you down against the bed.

He doesn’t stop until you sag against the mattress, completely spent. He finally pulls away, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand as a big grin overtakes his face. He’s been wanting to do that for way too long, and honestly can’t believe it just happened for real. He’s imagined it enough times to know it would be amazing, but that had exceeded his expectations.

You’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. All sweaty, flushed chest heaving, pupils blown wide from pleasure that he gave you. A sense of pride swells in his chest at the fact that he was able to make you feel so good.

Once you snap out of your blissful haze, you sit upright and jerk him toward you. You hungrily devour his lips, not feeling the least bit satiated by that mind blowing orgasm. You want—no, need—him. Right now.

He clambers up onto the bed, one of his hands moving to cup the back of your head as he climbs on top of you. You slide your hands along his shoulders beneath his flannel and practically rip it from his body. Next comes his undershirt, followed by the belt around his waist.

Your shaky hands fumble with the button of his jeans for a few seconds before he bats them away to undo it himself. Within seconds they’re gone too, joining the pile of clothes on your carpeted floor. You drag your fingers down his broad chest, pausing over the small patch of hair between his pecks.

He shudders against you, lips leaving yours to suck and lick his way down your neck. You palm him through his boxers and he grunts lowly, stiffening at the feeling. A trembling sigh falls past your lips as you explore his hard length through the thin fabric.

Suddenly impatient, you use both hands to pull the barrier down, eyes widening as his cock springs free. It’s so much bigger than you imagined. You’d spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about your best friend’s dick, but it still hadn’t prepared you for the real thing.

You wrap your fingers around him and he freezes against you. He presses his forehead to your shoulder as you pump him slowly. A moan rumbles through your chest at the feeling of him so exposed, so primal on top of you.

All he can do is huff out a few quick gasps as just your fingers set his body ablaze. He honestly feels like he might combust with the way his heart is sputtering in his chest. It takes every ounce of his willpower to peel your fingers away from him. He knows he won’t last long and he desperately wants to be inside you.

“Can I...is it okay if...” He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say. He’s so tightly wound, so high off your presence that he can barely string his thoughts together.

“I have condoms.” You breathe, trying to convey with your eyes how much you want this. How much you want him.

He swallows thickly, hesitating for only a moment before sliding onto the floor to rummage through the bedside table you’d gestured toward. He pulls out a single foil packet and moves to sit next to you on the bed. He glances between his shaky hand and your eyes, suddenly needing reassurance.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He breathes, heart clenching in his chest at the possibility of you saying no.

Even if you do, he has to give you this moment to decide. He’s painfully aware that both of you are very intoxicated and may regret this in the morning. But he also knows that he’s wanted you for years and it might just kill him to stop now.

You trail your fingers along the side of his face, eyes rounding at the respect he has for you. You really love the idiot sitting in front of you, a realization that makes you lean forward and close the distance between you.

“Stiles,” You mumble against his lips. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to lose my mind.”

His eyes widen in shock at your urgency and he chuckles, tearing the small package open and rolling the condom on quickly. He reconnects your lips and pushes you down onto the bed gently. You wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the base of his skull.

Your head tilts back, a long moan escaping you as he enters you in one swift motion. His eyes pinch shut tightly as he braces a hand against your headboard to steady himself. All he can do is grunt and gasp for air as your heat clenches around him. After only a few trusts, he knows he’s going to explode any minute.

He slides an arm under your arched back and turns you both so that he’s now laying on the mattress. Your knees settle on either side of his thighs and his brows furrow as he grips your hips tightly.

“Please...” Stiles groans, not even sure what he’s asking for. You’re everywhere. Around him, on top of him, your delicious smell is enveloping his every sense with his head on your pillow. It’s all too much.

You press your palms onto his chest and swirl your hips, pulling a broken moan from him. You lift yourself up before gliding back down slowly, wanting to see how long you can tease him before he’ll snap. The memory of the way he’d lost control earlier has your core clenching around him. You want to see that again.

“Y/N, I c-can’t...”

You lean down to steal a quick kiss, almost instantly reading his mind. He flips you over again, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip as he starts pounding into you, hard. Your head knocks into the headboard with each of his jerky movements, but you don’t care.

Your stomach tightens and you whimper, not expecting to cum again so quickly. None of your other partners had ever gotten you off more than once in a session. Stiles brings a hand down blindly to rub quick circles over your clit and you cry out against his lips.

Within seconds, you’re both tumbling over the edge, a chorus of moans and shaky breathing the only sound in your otherwise quiet bedroom.

He collapses onto the bed beside you, chest heaving as he tries to make sense of what the fuck just happened. The lustful haze is clearing from his mind as his orgasm fades away. He’s left laying there, his best friend—who he just fucked—only inches away.

He lets his eyes trail over to you slowly, honestly terrified of what he’ll find. He needs to know what you’re thinking. His eyes search yours, but they’re guarded. Unreadable. He instantly starts panicking, heart sputtering in his chest as he bolts upright and quickly discards the condom in your trash can.

Your brows furrow from your position beside him, surprised by his sudden movement. A wave of exhaustion comes over you. It’s a mixture of the alcohol and the mind blowing sex you just had, and all you want to do is sleep it off.

You reach forward to clasp a hand around Stiles’ wrist, stopping him just before he stands from the bed. “Where are you going?”

Your heart falls into your stomach at the thought of him trying to run away from what you’d just done. There wasn’t a single part of you that regretted it. You wanted to do that since you met the idiot, so there was no way you’d be going back on it now.

You honestly didn’t even care if the two of you ever slept together again. You just needed him in your life. You weren’t going to let him disappear on you just because you gave into a night of passion.

“Oh. I-I didn’t know if you...you know, would want...” He stammers, eyes widening at the frown on your face. Maybe he misread the situation.

“Of course I want you to stay, you big dork.” You chuckle, tugging on his arm again.

His lips twitch into a grin, relief washing over him. He crawls back into the bed, peeling your comforter away so that you can join him beneath the warmth. You instantly curl into his chest, his arms wrapping around you in a familiar gesture. You’d cuddled many times before, but never like this. Never naked.

Stiles tries thinking of anything else to fight off his growing erection. Now was not the time for round two. You were basically asleep against him, your breath slowing to an even rhythm. He pulls you in tighter and lets his eyes flutter closed, knowing there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

The last thought that flickers through his mind before he drifts off is that he could definitely get used to this new aspect of your relationship. He only hoped, come morning, that you’d feel the same.

[girlwiththereapertattoo]

begin again - part three

Jax Teller x female!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Jax grow closer... I don't know what else to say without revealing spoilers haha

Word count: 4k words

Warnings: very bad language, mentions of blood, physical & verbal abuse, angsty & some fluff

Author's note: I appreciate all the positive feedback I've received this far! It's much appreciated :) also, I'm bad at writing these summaries

If you’re in an abusive relationship or you suspect that someone you know is being abused, speak up and reach out to the correct people!

Beta read by @crucifixedbitch

PART ONE | PART TWO

💀💀💀💀💀

He’s late. The thought brings about a familiar uneasiness and your mind conjures images of a bloodied Jax lying unconscious in some dingy ditch. Jesus Christ.

“Mommy, why did you stop reading?”

S/N’s soft voice draws you back to reality. You look over to his bed where he’s laying beside Abel. “Did I stop reading?”

He giggles, “Yep.”

Oh. You look down at the book in your hand then back up at the boys. “I’m sorry, ace. I guess Mommy’s a bit tired.” And apparently, she’s distracted. You look back down at the book, willing yourself to remember your place.

“Cooper the Cat was stuck in the tree,” he reminds you.

“Right, Cooper the Cat!” your eyes hastily skim through the short paragraphs until you land at the right sentence. “Got it. ‘Help!’ cried Cooper from the tree…”

And just like that, all thoughts of Jax and his safety are shoved to the back of your mind to deal with at a later time. It’s your lucky day today, the boys have had a long day and they’re out before you reach the end of the book.

“I love you, ace,” you whisper to your son after you’ve kissed him goodnight.

It’s because of your love for S/N that you left Jax and the endless bullshit that comes with him. Anxiety-filled nights like this one are a thing of your past and you know you can’t allow yourself to be consumed by thoughts of him. Once you start, there’s no stopping you. You know this, very well, so why is there a sick feeling twisting in your gut? Because a small part of you is still in love with your ex.

Hope blooms when your phone vibrates in your pocket but it’s only B/N. It’s not that you’re not happy to see your boyfriend’s name on your phone screen, but the anxiety’s gnawing at your mind, and you’re desperate for it to be put to sleep. Fortunately for you, B/N’s in high spirits. He’s been frustrated with you lately, and wants you back in Charlotte — his insecurities about Jax are beginning to show.

It’s for that reason that you don’t tell him about S/N’s friendship with Abel.

“This time next week, you and S/N will be back home,” he muses.

“Yeah, we both can’t wait.” You feel disappointed at the realization, “It feels like forever, doesn’t it?”

And S/N has been asking about B/N more and more these days but you don’t tell that to him, afraid that he’ll catch the earliest flight to California. Truthfully, you’re not exactly ready to let Jax out of your life which you’ll be forced to do if B/N’s in Charming. You see, he’s… protective and doesn’t like the idea of you hanging around men. Especially Jax. Hell, he almost stopped you from attending your own mother’s funeral.

Of course, it was under the guise of being the protective boyfriend. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to be in the same town as your violent biker ex?” He said all the right things and did everything in his power to talk you out of the decision but in the end, he failed to convince you to stay away.

“Goodnight, I love you.”

You hang up just in time to hear Jax’s motorcycle pull up out front. The relief is quickly overshadowed by concern when you open the door and are greeted by a bloody-faced Jax.

“I’m late.”

“I’m more concerned about that gash on your brow. Come in.” You open the door wider, “If you’re here to get Abel, he’s asleep. You can fetch him in the morning.”

“Shit.” You step aside to allow him access into the house, “I’m sorry, Y/N, I got caught up in Oakland.”

“It’s fine. S/N was happy to have Abel stay the night.”

He smiles, “Thank you.”

You return his smile, “We should clean that before it gets infected.” Before you can process your actions, you’re leaning closer to take a better look at the cut. “I can’t see much, you should rinse it with water. I’ll go grab the first aid kit.”

“It’s late, I’ll have Chibs take care of the cut.”

“Meet me in the kitchen,” you start for the bathroom, “rinse the cut.”

You grab the first aid kit from the bathroom and find Jax sitting at the breakfast table, pensively staring into space, a half-drunk bottle of water sitting in front of him.

“Here.”

Your voice pulls him from his reverie. His eyes drop to the pill container in your hand and he arches a brow.

“It’s for the pain.”

“Thanks.” He accepts the pills and pops the cap open, “I should’ve called.”

“It’s fine.” You do your best to keep a casualness in your voice when you ask, “What was happening in Oakland? Is everyone okay?”

He gazes at you for a long while before he responds, gauging where your head is at. “Yeah, we’re all fine.”

“Should I be worried?”

He slowly shakes his head, “No.”

You watch him take the pain medication, there are so many questions to ask, questions only Jax has answers to.

“Is it safe for you to be here?”

He swallows the pills and smiles, “I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t safe. Don’t worry, you and S/N are safe.”

Hesitantly, you nod as you pull a chair from the table. In a bid to lighten the mood, you tell him, “No offense, Jackie, but you look like shit.”

“I feel like shit,” he chuckles.

You take your seat in front of him and suppress the urge to smile, “Who punched your handsome mug?”

“I was pistol-whipped.”

“Ouch.” Scooting forward in your chair, you lean towards Jax to get a better look at the rinsed cut, and for a very brief moment, your eyes lock with his before they dart up to his cut. “It’s like the good ol’ days, isn’t it?”

“You playin’ nurse?”

“Yeah.”

Back in the day, nights like these were common. Jax would sit at this very table, at the very chair he’s sat on, whilst you tended to his cuts and bruises. Mother would be sitting in the living room, hurling insults at both you and Jax. She would take any chance to remind you that you were making a mistake you would regret for the rest of your life.

“Your mom hated me.”

Your eyes lock with his, “In her defense, you would always be finding ways to antagonize her.”

And in return, your mother would call Jax all kinds of names but even that wouldn’t keep him away. Nothing ever could keep him from you. Memories of Jax sneaking into your room late at night come to mind. “I had to come kiss my girl goodnight,” he’d tell you.

“We were pretty wild back then,” you reminisce.

And you were madly in love with each other, however, you keep that part to yourself. The situation’s complicated enough without the added layer. You’ve barely mustered the courage to mention B/N’s existence to Jax because, in all honesty, you’re not quite sure how he might react to another man raising his son. The thought of his reaction fills you with dread. Heaven knows he’ll give you a hard time about leaving next week.

Gah, it’s all too much! With a shake of your head, you dismiss all thoughts and grab the ointment from the kit. “Shall we?”

He nods and shuts his eye for you to apply it on the cut. A silence descends upon the kitchen and neither of you makes an effort to fill it.

“You’re good to go,” you announce once you’re done.

“Thanks.”

“I couldn’t risk it getting infected.”

More than anything, you don’t want S/N to see Mommy’s friend sporting cuts on his face. He’ll ask questions, probably mention it to B/N, and you’re not looking to have that drama in your life.

“Are you hungry? I’m assuming you haven’t had your dinner…”

“Nah, but I should get going.”

Your mood deflates at his announcement. The truth is you don’t want him to leave but how do you stop him without giving him the wrong idea? Why are you even stopping him from leaving?

“Stay,” you blurt out.

“Stay?”

“Yeah, there’s the guest bedroom. It’s late and you’re medicated and you shouldn’t be driving and–”

“I have nothing to wear.”

“Sure you do.” You take a breath to compose yourself, “I was cleaning out the closets the other day and I found some of your old stuff. They’re clean, I uh, washed them. Everything is oversized, they should still fit you.”

You had intended to take them to Goodwill and you will but right now, Jax needs them.

“Look, I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

It isn’t a lie but it isn’t the full truth. Honestly? You just want him near you. It’s wrong, and you understand the implications and know that B/N won’t be happy should he find out, but one night wouldn’t be harmful to anyone, right? Besides, he’ll be sleeping in the guest bedroom.

He thoughtfully considers your proposition. After a stretched silence, he reluctantly accepts your offer.

“Great,” you perk up, “I’ll warm up your dinner.”

You make some conversation over dinner, none of the heavy shit, mostly catching up on all you’ve missed in the four years you’ve been away. He tells you about the club, and that Opie met someone and they’re now married.

“And how about you? Is there anyone special in your life?”

He doesn’t answer your question, not that you expect him to. You just can’t help but be curious. After dinner, he heads over to the bathroom to take his shower whilst you load the dishwasher and dig through the laundry to look for Jax’s old t-shirts and sweats. The guilt sets in and you fight the urge to call B/N to tell him about Jax.

You’re dialing his number when you stop yourself. “Geez, Y/N!” you toss your phone into the laundry basket and step back to create distance between you and the device. Think about this. The last thing you need is B/N bulldozing into Charming and starting shit with Jax and the M.C. — that could be fatal. No, Jax staying the night is you helping out an old friend, there’s nothing more to it.

Grabbing the folded pile of clothing, you make your way down the hall to the guest bedroom and find Jax waiting patiently on the bed for you. Nothing but a towel tied around his waist.

“I should’ve knocked, I’m sorry.”

He rises off the bed and that’s when you get a clear view of his torso, and the tattoo inscribed on his ribcage.

“You’ve proved your point, Jax, now let’s go.” “No, why?” You look over your shoulder to the big, tattooed man standing over by the counter, laughing at whatever joke he’s just been told. You’re at some grimy tattoo parlor, somewhere in Reno, and Jax’s about to get your name tattooed on his body. His ribcage to be exact. The sentiment is sweet, you admit, but it’s a permanent decision, and you’re only 17. You look back at Jax who’s now laying shirtless on the tattoo chair, “Do you realize how insane this is?” He smiles brightly as he shakes his head. “Do you have a death wish? Gemma’ll kill us both when she sees this.” Part of her rage will be due to the fact that it’s your name on his ribcage instead of hers. “And what if they find out we’ve lied about our age?” “Babe, will you relax? They won’t, this place is a dump.” Which is exactly why he shouldn’t get his first-ever tattoo done here. “There’s no talking you out of this, huh?” “No.” He laces his fingers with yours and raises your hand to press a kiss to its back, “This is what I want to do. I don’t care what my mom thinks.” “And the pain? You don’t care about that either?” He shakes his head, “No.” You glance at the stencil transfer on his ribcage and sigh. “I know you don’t have to do this–” “I want to do this.” “And there’s clearly no talking you out of this.” “Yeah.” You squeeze his hand and flash him a reassuring smile, “Do you want me to hold your hand?” His smile returns, brighter than ever, “I’d appreciate it, darlin’.” “You’re insane, you know that, right?” He nods. “Only because I love you.” You lean over to lock your lips in a kiss — you don’t doubt it for a second.

You pry your eyes from his torso, forcing yourself to face the now smirking Jax. Right, his clothes!

You hold out the pile to him, “Did you put your clothes in the hamper?”

He accepts them and murmurs ‘thanks’ before he responds to your question. “Yeah, just like you said.”

“Okay,” you fight off the urge to look down at his ribcage. He kept it. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight Jax.”

Spinning on your heels, you scurry out the room before you do something you’ll regret later.

💀💀💀💀💀

“Mommy! Come see!”

S/N and Abel’s laughter sounds from the living room. Saturday mornings have always been your favorite. Sleeping in is always a winner in your books, a vital part of any Saturday routine, and once you’re up, B/N takes S/N out of the house whilst you prepare breakfast. Last weekend was S/N’s first Saturday away from B/N and he was miserable. This Saturday is different.

“Mommy?” More laughter sounds, “You will miss it!”

Lowering the heat, you abandon your cooking and make your way over to the living room. A slouched Jax is taking up most of the three-seater with S/N and Abel on either side of him, all three pairs of eyes fixed on the television screen.

“What’s got you laughing so much, ace?” You take a seat on the armrest and press a kiss to the top of your son’s head. “Beaky Buzzard?”

“Yeah.” He looks up at you, “Are you coming to sit with us?”

“No, Mommy’s got to make breakfast.”

You’d like nothing more than to stick around and watch cartoons with them but there’s breakfast to prepare. When you walk back into the kitchen, you discover your phone vibrating on the counter and you just know it’s B/N. It’s his fifth attempt in the last half-hour, probably looking to speak to S/N, but that just isn’t a good idea. Not when Jax is in the house. You’re being deceitful to both parties, but the timing just isn’t right.

B/N would lose it if he found out about Jax’s regular visits, and you don’t know how Jax would react to B/N’s existence in your life and the role he plays in your son’s life. It would ruin a perfectly good morning. The day got off to a good start with the news of the sale of your childhood home, and your son’s mood is the best it’s been all week. Why would you even think to ruin it by starting trouble with B/N?

It’s not worth it. You’ll just have to come up with a story to tell him later.

“Breakfast is served!”

The boys come barreling in and take their places at the breakfast table. You assist the two youngest boys to plate up their food before you plate up for yourself. Everyone digs into the food, and the compliments you receive are a definite boost for the ego. You listen intently as S/N and Abel excitedly recount the Looney Tune episode they’d watched earlier and S/N’s beside himself with laughter.

The happy moment is disrupted by the unwelcomed vibration of your phone on the counter.

“Is that Daddy calling?”

Shit! You wince at the name ‘Daddy’. It’s what S/N always calls B/N but somehow, it doesn’t feel right when Jax’s sitting across the table from him.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, ace?” you look over to him, very aware of Jax’s eyes burning into the back of your head.

“Is that Daddy calling?”

“No, it’s probably the estate agent.” It’s not a convincing lie, but you’re caught off guard and can’t come up with something better. “She’s calling about the house.”

“When is Daddy calling?”

“Probably later.” You hate that you’re being so dismissive. “We’ll call him after Abel and Jax leave, okay?”

He looks like he might ask another question, maybe press for a better answer, but he resumes eating his food. You avoid Jax’s eyes for the remainder of breakfast. He helps you clear the table and load the dishwasher in painful silence. Once Jax has helped you load the dishes, he leaves you alone in the kitchen. Can the morning get any worse? Apparently, it can. You unlock your phone to find multiple texts from an irate B/N.

He didn’t take kindly to you ignoring all ten of his calls. Shit. You’re on the verge of tears when Jax saunters into the kitchen.

“Abel and I are leaving.”

You nod, unsure of how to respond. “You’ll ride on your bike with Abel?”

“No. Ratboy’s waiting out front with the van.”

“Ratboy?”

“The new prospect.”

“And will we see Abel tomorrow?”

His impassive expression says it all. Your gut twists with anxiety at the thought of not seeing Jax again before you leave Charming. How do you make this right?

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He slowly shakes his head. Just then S/N and Abel sprint into the kitchen, bustling with energy. Abel hugs you goodbye before the boys run back out of the kitchen and out of the house onto the front yard.

“I’m leaving my bike here. I’ll come by to get it later.”

“Cool. Yeah, that’s fine.”

You walk Jax out, and just like he’d said, Ratboy is waiting out front in a black van. Together with S/N, you watch Jax and Abel climb into the van and drive off.

“Can we call Daddy now?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” you lift him up and carry him towards the house. “Did you have a good time with Abel?”

He nods his little human head, a bright grin plastered on his perfect face. Once inside the house, you dial B/N’s number but he doesn’t pick up, in fact, it seems his phone’s off. Strange.

“I think his phone’s off, ace.”

His face falls. In an effort to brighten his mood, you suggest driving over to the playground.

“When is Abel coming back to play?”

You inwardly sigh. It looks like today’ll be one long ass day.

💀💀💀💀💀

The last person you expect to find standing on the other side of your front door is B/N and yet here he is, and he looks anything but pleased with you. Oh, shit. Your heart sinks at the sight of him, the chill of fear coursing through your body, and your mouth dries.

“B/N?”

His unsettling smile causes the hairs on the back of your neck to raise. “Hi, Toots. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Your movement’s robot-like as you step away from the door to make way for him. He walks past you, and once inside, his eyes search around the small space.

“Are you home alone?”

You seem to have forgotten how to speak.

“Toots?”

“S/N… He’s, uh… He’s asleep.”

He murmurs a soft ‘good’ before he turns around to pull you into an embrace. For a moment, you stand frozen, your brain seized up and you feel like a foreigner in your own body.

“What’s the matter, Toots? You don’t look too happy to see me. Were you expecting someone else?”

Yes. “No.” Moving one arm at a time, you return B/N’s embrace and do your best to calm your nerves. You’ve done nothing wrong, he’s not going to hurt you, you repeat over and over until he releases you from his hold. “I just wasn’t expecting you to come all this way.”

“It’s only a five-hour flight.”

Why the fuck are you here?

As if he read your mind, he tells you. “I missed you guys so much, I thought I’d surprise you,” with a tight smile, he adds, “You’re not very good at answering my calls.”

“I’m sorry.”

B/N hauls his luggage from the porch and dumps it onto the floor before he makes his way over to the living room. You follow slowly behind him, watching as he settles onto the couch and searches for the television remote.

“C-can I get you anything?”

“Join me,” it’s an order.

You drag your feet over to the couch and take your place next to him. Casually, he slings an arm over your shoulder and forcefully pulls you into his side.

“There. Now you’re close.”

You can’t bring yourself to fake a smile. Too petrified. He presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers into your ear to relax.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

He’s told you that lie far too many times in the past.

“Are you enjoying being back in Charming?”

You nod, the words caught in your throat.

“What are you? Mute? Use your fucking words, Toots.”

“It’s good to be back.” Your voice is shaky, barely recognizable. “I missed it here”

His fingers start stroking up and down your upper arm. “Good.”

Your eyes fix on the blank television screen in front of you.

“Is he here? Is he hiding in one of the rooms?”

“Who?”

“Your white trash biker ex!”

You jump up, surprised by him raising his voice so suddenly. “Jax? No! Why would he be here?”

“You lying piece of shit,” he spits out, shoving you away from him, the force sending you to the ground. “I saw his bike parked out front. I’ll ask you again, is he here?”

“No, B/N,” tears fill your eyes, you know exactly what’s to follow but still, you plead, “Don’t do this here. Not now, please, baby.”

“Shut up!” He raises to his feet, towering over you, and kicks at your trembling frame. “No one’s touched you, why the fuck are you crying?”

“I’m sorry.” You swipe the tears from your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t… I don’t know whose bike that is.”

“Are you cheating on me, you whore?”

Frantically, you shake your head.

“I said use your fucking words.”

You bring a trembling hand to your mouth to muffle your sobs.

“I asked you a question, you dumb bitch!”

“No. No. No.” You crawl over to him, closing the distance between you. “I’d never, baby. Never ever.”

“That doesn’t explain why a bike’s parked outside your house.”

“B/N, please,” you plead softly. “S/N’s asleep, we can do this another–”

The words are lost when he harshly grabs your face and shoves you onto your back. Both hands cover your mouth to muffle your pained cries. He’s vicious, and tonight, he’s out for blood.

“Get up, you–”

Knock, knock, knock! You’ve never been more relieved in your life. B/N shoots you a warning glare, daring you to make a move. A few moments later, the knocks sound again, a little louder this time around.

“Y/N?”

It’s Jax. You are faced with two decisions: do you call for Jax to help you or do you take your deserved punishment?

“Y/N?” he knocks louder. “Are you in there?”

You’re sobbing so much, your body’s trembling. B/N kneels beside you, placing two additional hands over the ones already covering your mouth. His additional weight pushes your head further into the hard ground, causing your head to hurt. It’s sure to leave a bruise. With a final knock, Jax gives up and some moments later, you hear his motorcycle ride off. Once he’s certain Jax’s left, B/N removes his hands.

“Why is he here at this hour?”

“I don’t know.” You gasp when he wraps his hand around your neck and applies pressure, making it difficult for you to breathe. “B/N, please…”

“You’ll regret cheating on me,” he murmurs softly before his hand connects with your cheek in a hard slap.

💀💀💀💀💀

PART FOUR

tag list:

@princesssterek @derangedcupcake @furiouscopshepherduniversity @crucifixedbitch @holl2712 @sweet--catrastrophe @marvelsmylife @brittjulianne97

[yoongis-bread-cheeks]

Hands | jjk

Warnings: ALL sexually explicit lol, vaginal fingering (female recieving), use of vibrator, overstimulation, asking to stop but not using 🚨safe word🚨, light choking, light degredation (use of slut), praise, light dumbification, dirrtyy talk 😚, some pet names (mostly baby), finger sucking, double penetration(?)(fingering and vibrator, both in vagina), squirting.

WC: 1.4k

Genre: Smut 18+. DNI under 18

Summary: porn without plot honestly lol. Just some mindless ol good times 😍

A/N: I haven’t written smut in years, let alone write fanficiton 😫 this shits gonna suck but bear with me

“C'mere, baby," Jeongguk pat the spot between his legs. You slowly crawl towards him, settling between his thighs.

"Safe word is lavender," Rough hands started at your waist and began rubbing over your stomach, occasionally around your breasts. Milky skin contrasted with yours as his hands caressed your torso.

“What’s your safe word?” Jeongguk tests you.

“Lavender,” growing impatient, you whine.

Reaching up to cup your breasts, he runs a finger over your left nipple looking for a reaction. And a reaction is what he got. Lightly mewling under his touch, you pressed into his chest. Fingers trailed up to your lips, pressing against the part.

Immediately accepting, you suckled on his fingers, tongue gliding over his callouses. "Hmm. Gotta prep my fingers for you, but it seems like you're already wet enough for me to wedge my cock in," You felt what he said more than heard, his chest rumbling with low timbre.

Moaning around his fingers, he pulled them out. A string of saliva followed them down to your aching pussy. Pressing two fingers to your clit, you bite back a moan as his they swirled around your button.

"Uh-uh, baby. You're not gonna do that," he scolded you. "I want to hear everything. When I play with your clit, stuff my fingers in your pussy—" Jeongguk slid two fingers in you, making your back arch. "When I split your poor pussy apart with my cock,"

Clenching around his fingers at his words made him groan, as he curled and scissored his fingers in attempts to find your sweet spot. The edge of a spongy like texture inside of you caught his attention as he pressed into the center of it.

"Fuck!" You moaned. Suddenly his fingers curled and he began to thrust his hand in and out of your pussy. The cramping in his hand went ignored, he was only focused on making you cum. Jeongguk was nothing short of addicted to you.

Your pussy was so soft, so warm. The sounds you make and the strings you make him feel only ever egg him on. Always fantasizing about his cockhead stretching you no matter how much preparation was done beforehand.

You were in the palm of his hands and he was afraid you'd slip right through his fingers like sand. The pleasure growing in you felt like a flower becoming ready to bloom. Heavy breaths came from Jeongguk as his left hand came to rub at your clit, making your moans louder.

"Yeah, you gonna fucking cum? Come on baby, cum for me, all over my fingers. Gonna make you beg for me to stop," chaste kisses pressed to your neck as the flower finally bloomed within you.

"Oh, fuck!" You groaned. Soon, the fingers working inside you caused pain. Suddenly causing small shooting pains, you clamp your thighs over his hands. Didn't seem to stop him though.

"Gguk, I — ah — m too sensitive~," you squeaked out, his hands not letting up. "Stop..." attempting to push him away only made his fingers go harder.

"You know your safe word baby," You did know your safe word. And you didn't use it. You’d be stupid to.

Wetness pooled under you, leaving dark spots on the sheets. Jeongguk relished the pornographic sounds you made, the fruits of his labor. Your thighs opened up wide for him, more access given.

"Wanna fuck you dumb, baby. Til you can't think a single thing other than how bad you want to cum again,"

Honestly, you couldn't even hear what he was saying anymore. The only thing you could think about were the fingers inside of you.

A third snaked its way in, burning slightly. Jeongguks hands were way bigger than yours, and you usually only used 2 fingers at most. Jeongguks two fingers already amounted to your three. You'd be embarrassed by the squelching coming from your push if you weren't focused on just cumming again. You grabbed onto Jeongguks forearm covered in tattoos as you pushed your head back into his chest.

“G-god...I'm s-s— ah! — so close," The words you say aren't even intelligible, rather sounding like blubbering.

"C’mon baby. You gonna cum again? I can feel your pathetic cunt begging to cum," Jeongguk growls.

"Please, please, please, pl— oh!" Your third release finally found you, nails digging into Jeongguks arm. His thumb replacing his forefinger as his left hand reaches for your throat. Lightly pressing on the pressure points prolonged your orgasm.

Sounds no longer come from you, instead your vocal cords no longer work. The ability to breathe also stops working, as Jeongguk continues to rub tight circles onto your clit. The pace of his hand doesn't let up.

Jesus fucking Christ. No wonder the man complains about carpal tunnel.

The aftershocks hit you and so does the pain, thighs twitching and trembling. "Good girl. That's a good little slut, huh?" Jeongguk coos in your ear, stamina still going. Pulling out without warning, you whine at the emptiness in you despite having came 3 times.

He leans over to open your drawer, and you assume he's grabbing a condom.

“I actually don't have an con-...." Words die in your throat when you see what he pulled out. Your black vibrator. He was planning on giving you more?

Slouching back on him, he uses the wetness on his fingers to lube up the vibrator. You can't lie, you were intimidated. He had some skill. Bringing the toy down to your needy, sensitive pussy, he swirls it around your ringed entrance.

The sheets below you were undoubtedly soaked. Jeongguk shoved the toy inside of you, eliciting a high pitched moan. But you were in for way more. Once the toy switched on, you knew you were fucked.

"Oh, shit!" Immediately you gasp, hips bucking off the bed. Jeongguk retracts his hand away from you only to slam his palm down onto your clit. A small scream rips from your throat at the sting, but god did you want more.

“Yeah, you fucking like that? You’ve already cum so many times but you want more, don’t you?” Jeongguk taunted, using a condescending tone. In any other situation, you would have slapped him silly

The internal vibrations ramped up from the fact you were still so sensitive. Your eyes, once clamped shut, opened wide when Jeongguk squeezed 2 fingers into your pussy along side the vibrator. When his fingers start curling and uncurling, constantly rubbing against your G-Spot, your mind fully caves in.

His left hand grabs the vibrator and starts making shallow thrusts, sturdily hitting your cervix. Moving wasn’t even an option at this point. Everything in your body had shut down, and Jeongguk loved watching you fully submit to him, fully succumbing. No thoughts crossed your mind that weren’t “Jeongguk”.

The mind numbing pleasure was just at pleasurable to him, even if he wasn’t even recieving it. He was high on your facial expressions, eyebrows furrowed, eyes rolled in the back of your head or crossed, teeth claiming your lower lip.

Feeling the walls around his fingers clench, it was a telltale sign. Except it wasn’t quite what he expected, but was sure as hell welcome. “F-fuck!” You shouted out of reflex, hips spasming.

A stream of clear liquid shot out, and Jeongguks eyes widened. Pulling his hand out, he opted to use his whole hand to swipe back and forth on your clit to prolong it. His own breathing labored as you relaxed back into him. “I was gonna fuck you, but I have to do that again,”

A shit eating grin plastered on his face and you knew, even if you couldn’t see him. Instead of returning to two fingers, three fingers stuff inside of you alongside the toy, making a slight burn tinge your already on fire pussy.

“God, I love this fucking pussy. You’re so goddamn sensitive,” You could only whimper now, it was the only thing that didn’t consume too much energy to do.

Your breathing had no pattern, and your head was practically empty. Occasionally Jeongguk would kiss or bite at your neck, but you couldn’t care to notice when you’ve been fucked open with his fingers for 45 minutes.

After probably only 40 seconds later, you came again. The sensitivity and the extreme stimulation all were adding factors. Chest heaving, eyes drooping. One more small stream of cum shot out, and Jeongguk looked at you like you were Aphrodite.

Absolutely delectable.

Jeongguk let you rest, he knew you needed it. Rolling over, you curled into a ball. He stood up to grab you a water from the kitchen. Once he stands, mini Jeongguk makes himself known. Man sized Jeongguk only frowns down at him.

“Next time, buddy. Next time.”

[angelz-dust]

cheaters always win (jason todd x reader)

summary: uh... you fuck red hood. that’s it. happy kinktober.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni) - smut, unprotected sex (no condom, no pulling out),  clothed sex, masks, mild roleplaying. bad writing. terrible, actually. enjoy tho.

minors/ageless blogs who interact will be blocked - read rules before interacting

you laid in bed, comfortable underneath your soft blankets, head rested against a fluffy pillow. you had just taken a nice shower and took your time getting ready for bed. it was starting to get colder, the crisp october wind not being very forgiving, but you managed to maintain a decent temperature that goldilocks would approve of. this was a perfect recipe for slumber and you plan on indulging in that. it didn't take long for your tired state and environment to lull you to sleep.

unfortunately, though, nothing could ever be that perfect.

after getting about an hour and a half of sleep, you suddenly were brought out of dreamworld and back to reality. you wanted to close your eyes and continue your dream where you and your old friends from high school were international super spies, so you did just that. you let out a deep exhale, trying to find that sweet spot of unconsciousness again but something was tingling in your mind. you felt like something was off.

you kept your eyes firmly shut as you tried to feel for anything, the paranoia starting to settle in. was it the boogeyman coming to get you out in some inception like dream sequence or was someone in your apartment? you kept your breathing quiet as you tried to listen in for anything. you couldn't see it, as your eyes were still closed, but you could feel the that the door to your bedroom was now ajar. you were afraid to look, unsure of what you'd see.

you slowly opened your eyes, turning your head and sitting up to see someone sitting in the chair next to your dresser. they were illuminated by the moonlight shining in through the blinds of the window next to you. you let out a gasp, flinching and gripping your sheets and you felt your back press into the headboard. the person just stared at you while you panicked.

your eyes were blurry and filled with sleep. it took you a moment in your now petrified fear to realize that you knew who was sitting in the chair, unflinching at your scared noises.

"jesus fucking christ," you breathed out, pressing your hand on your chest as you felt your heart hammering back against it. "oh my god, you scared me."

silence. no response. not even a nonverbal one.

as you attempted to regulate your breathing, you stared at jason. well... not jason. you were staring at red hood. he must have just gotten back from patrol. sometimes he would stop by to spend the night with you. he must have broke in, as he always did, while you were asleep.

"goodnight, asshole," you pouted, laying back down in your little cocoon. you expected to hear a response or at least the sound of his boots hitting the floor while he shuffled around to get ready for bed. you didn't, though, which prompted you to open your heavy eyes once again.

"jason," you called out cutely, turning over to look at him. your pout returned after a yawn fell from your lips, glistening your eyes with sleepy tears. "hurry up and come to bed."

you weren't sure if there was something wrong with him or not. was he upset? hurt, maybe? these scary thoughts were starting to bring you out of your sleepy stupor. you sat up, deciding to try to throw some humor his way to get a reaction. you wanted to try and see where his head was at without having to ask specifically.

"excuse me, red hood?" you started, rubbing your eyes softly. "have you seen my boyfriend, jason?"

you watched as he shifted in his seat, his elbow propped up on the arm of the chair. he went and placed his chin in his palm, looking at you.

"i don't think i have," he responded, his voice distorted because of his voice modulator.

you smiled, glad that he was talking now. you hoped this meant that nothing was wrong. "he's very tall and solid. silky black hair, pretty green eyes, ruggedly handsome. very hard to miss."

red hood drummed his fingers on his lap with his free hand, pretending to think. "it's not ringing any bells."

"oh no," you sighed jokingly. "do you think something bad happened to him?"

"he's probably dead."

your face fell into a blank stare at his stupid joke. thank god you couldn't see his smug face under the helmet. was he giving you his signature smirk? were his eyes sparkling, overshadowing the sadness that always seemed to linger behind them or had their beauty been plagued by it, along with the rest of his handsome face? it was incredibly hard to tell. you hoped for the former.

"my boyfriend is too strong to die," you told him with a small smile. "i bet he could take you. he taught me everything he knows so... i bet i could take you, too."

"i seriously doubt that," you heard him retort, sitting up straight in the chair now. he viewed your claim as a challenge he was going to accept.

"then try and fight me, red hood," you said, sticking out your tongue at him.

you watched him stand up and walk towards you, not realizing how menacing he actually was. not seeing his face was unsettling enough but his stature made him even more intimidating. you knew he wouldn't hurt you so fear was replaced with confused arousal. it definitely was not the goal of the interaction, so you quickly pushed the thoughts away.

you stood up on the bed, wanting to have height advantage. he looked up at you for a moment before reaching out to start tickling you. laughter pearled out of your mouth as you were brought back down to your knees out of shock. “cheater!” you called out through your laughter.

you tried fending him off, pushing his hands away and weakly punching his chest and arms. it was obvious he was trying to possibly let you win. even in his state of not trying, you'd still lose.

the two of you went back and forth for awhile, taking jabs at each other while you laughed along the way. at one point, jason hooked his finger under the waistband of your panties, pulling it back as far as he could before letting it snap back against your skin. you let out a little yelp, promptly giving him a very careful punch to the crotch. it was a fake fight, after all. you didn't want to actually hurt him.

he instinctively flinched back, quickly breaking your guard by smacking your hands away and reaching out and pulling his sweater up over your head, just enough to cover your face while he softly jabbed at your soft skin. you sputtered as you tried to pull it back down but not before he used both of his hands to give your breasts a squeeze. he must have gotten bored with play fighting because as soon as you pulled his sweater back down, he quickly pinned you to the bed by your wrists. you stared up at him, eyes wide as he hovered over you.

"oh," you breathed out, blinking up at him. "o-oh! ouch!"

"what?"

"i think i've been injured," you said with a little smile as he loosened his grip on your wrists, letting you free. "do you think you could take a look at it? i mean, it's the least you can do considering it's you're fault."

you could feel him rolling his eyes and it only made your smile grow. you sat up and pressed your back into his firm chest. you could feel his steady breathing starting to sync up with yours.

"show me where it hurts," he told you and you took one of his hands, slowly guiding it up your stomach underneath his sweater. you stopped when the side of his thumb was pressed against the underside of your breast.

"it's somewhere over here. i'm not exactly sure where," you explained coyly as he began massaging your breast, looping his other arm around your waist as he started rubbing himself on your ass. you pushed back against him, letting out a mewl of satisfaction.

the two of you stayed like that for awhile, slowly but surely getting each other worked up. you hadn't expected him to be so receptive. you were just going to tease him a little in hopes of getting him to drop the red hood act so you could get some sleep. you assumed he'd want to finish what you started as jason but the fact that it appeared you'd be getting it on with red hood felt much sexier and a lot more fun.

"i'm not feeling any problems, sweetheart," his distorted voice rang in your ears as his movements stopped.

"oh, well, that's good," you said softly, placing your hand over his and pulling it away from your chest. "but i have another problem now."

"yeah?" he questioned as he watched you take his glove off, carefully stuffing it into his jacket pocket. "what's that?"

you silently led his hand down to your soaked panties and he let out a chuckle. "oh, i see. that is a problem."

"can you fix it?" you asked, letting out a moan as his fingers had already gone to work.

"i can certainly try."

while his fingers worked at rubbing you over your panties, his gloved hand made its way to the breast he had neglected earlier. you whined softly as you rubbed back against him while rutting against his fingers. eventually, your panties were so wet to the point where he might as well have been touching you directly, which prompted him to get them off of you. it took some maneuvering but he eventually got them off and he kindly tossed them into the hamper before continuing.

he teased you first, ghosting his fingers over your outer lips and slit before spreading you open. he repeated this motion a few times, making you whine in frustration. once he was satisfied he slipped his middle finger between your folds, softly rubbing you. you took matters into your hands and started rubbing yourself against his finger, desperately wanting more. the more you moved, the less pressure he applied.

"stop it," he finally said, his voice firm. you pouted, complying with his request and quickly being rewarded. he teased your clit right before gently dipping two fingers inside of you, making you moan out in surprise. he began pumping them in and out of you, bringing your juices back up to your swollen clit.

your back arched, surprised at how sensitive you were. it was a little embarrassing, actually. jason clearly didn't care, continuing to exploit your sensitivity and get more pretty moans to fall from your lips. not being able to sit still any longer. your hips began bucking again. jason let you move for a little while before removing his hand completely.

"i think i might be making your problem worse," he teased, palming himself over his pants. "and causing one for myself."

you heard the clanking of him fiddling with his belt buckle and you turned around to help. you quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, giving him the space he needed to pull out his hard cock through the opening. you dipped your fingers into your wetness, using it to help slick his cock, focusing on the head. you started stroking him with both hands, one firmly gripping the base while the other was teasing the head.

jason's moans encouraged you to move faster. he moved his fingers to your lips, making you taste yourself while you stroked him. you sucked on his fingers, closing your eyes as you moved both hands to the tip of his cock. he pulled his fingers away and you let them go with a pop, making him sigh deeply.

"i have to fuck you now. right now," he said seriously, stroking himself in front of you. "i hope your boyfriend doesn't mind."

"i'm sure he will," you said honestly, giving jason a lazy smile. you turned around on all fours, bending to with your chest pressed against the mattress and your ass in the air. you felt him lining himself up with your entrance and you braced yourself for the initial stretch. you gripped the sheets tightly as he pushed gently himself in. he slipped in easily, thanks to your seemingly infinite wetness.

you felt him press his fingertips on lower back, making you sink down so your hips were against the bed. that was when he tightly gripped them and began fucking you from behind. he rolled his hips into you, his movements slow and deep initially before he picked up the pace.

"you're so tight around me," he praised you, moving his hands to grip your ass.

each thrust was met with a moan from you. you were still very sensitive and it was starting to effect your entire body. jason's shameless fucking wasn't helping. he took a moment to remove his other glove, putting it in his pocket before dragging his hands up your sides, thumbs pressed into your back for better balance and access.

eventually he flipped you over, watching your now exposed breasts bounce while he rolled his hips into yours. you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to feel him deeper inside of you. he obliged, snapping his hips faster and pushing himself deeper.

"you like being fucked by me?" he asked between thrusts.

you nodded sloppily, gasping softly each time his hips slammed back into you. "y-yes. i love being fucked by you, red hood."

the room was filled with a symphony of your shared moans, along with other lewd noises. you weren't sure how much longer you would last with jason's nonstop thrusting. you felt your leg starting to cramp up and give out, the sensations of pain and pleasure starting to blend together to the point where it almost felt good.

"i'm getting close, baby," jason panted, finally slowing down. he rubbed circles into your hips, looking at your blissed out form below him. "so fucking close."

"please, keep going," you begged him, rolling your hips with his slow movements. "i'm almost there."

jason picked you up, taking you back to the chair. he sat down and wrapped his arms around your waist before harshly bucking his hips upward, hitting your sweet spot. you let out a loud string of moans and whines, using the arms of the chair as support as you tried to match jason's wild hip movements. you could feel your release coming, the pressure that had built up inside of you ready to dissipate.

"i'm gonna cum," you choked out, prompting jason to hit you with deep and deliberate thrusts, finally pushing you over the edge. you clenched tightly around him, feeling his cum spill inside of you while you both rode out your highs.

the both of you took a moment to catch your breath, bodies tingling in the afterglow. you felt like you were gonna pass out at any second, but not before you saw jason's face. you refused to lose consciousness before then. you reached out, hands caressing his helmet. you heard a click and sharp hiss, talking it off of jason's head.

"there he is," you said sleepily, setting the helmet on the dresser beside you. you carefully peeled off his domino mask next, tossing it next to the helmet. "my jason."

jason's cheeks were flushed and his sweaty hair was stuck to his forehead. his eyes were shining, just like you had hoped they would. he gave you a lopsided grin, leaning in to finally give you a soft kiss. "i can't believe you cheated on me with red hood."

“the real cheating was when you tickled me,” you laughed against his lips, stealing another kiss as you held his face in your hands. "can you blame me, though? he's really sexy."

"given the opportunity, i would fuck red hood, too," he admitted jokingly, peppering kisses on your cheeks and down your neck. "sorry for scaring you. i didn't mean to."

you looked at him with a worried expression, recalling the events that got you to this place to begin with. you pushed his hair back from his forehead, carding your fingers through his locks. "are you alright? did you have a rough night?"

jason sighed before nodding softly. "yeah, kinda. but i'm alright now."

"we can talk about it. only if you want to," you offered and he shook his head, giving you another kiss.

"tomorrow," he compromised, slowly standing up with you attached to him like a koala. "we need to get cleaned up and go to sleep."

"i had that handled until you came along," you teased him as he headed for the bathroom. "but alright. sounds good to me."

[moral-turpitudes]

For The Family:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Fighting/Arguing, Pregnancy, Fluff.

Word Count: 2,572

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Requested: Yes

Requested by: Anon, it can be found here.

Summary: One argument and a million frazzled nerves sends Y/N running out the doors of Shelby Company Limited, causing Thomas to re-evaluate his plans and think about more than himself for once.

One minute.

One minute was all it took for her to walk out, heels stomping through the shop halls of Shelby Company Limited and to the car. Not caring that she and Thomas rode in together that morning. He was resourceful, so he could surely find another way home, if he could make it home that is.

The morning had started out as usual, her husband calling a family meeting to discuss the days events and the legitimate business. Giving them all a rundown of the numbers and telling her and Lizzie about what papers needed filing. But not long after everyone had been given their tasks, he made one final remark. “I have a plan to discuss though, before you all go.” He said, putting his cigarette out.

“God what is it now?” Polly asked rolling her eyes in Y/N’s direction. She smirked slightly, avoiding her husbands gaze as she clasped her hands in front of her, preparing for whatever it is he’d say next.

“I’m going to go after the men who trashed our pub.” He said, looking at the paper on the table that talked about the recent bombing of the place.

“They’ll just come after us again though. What if they plant bombs here aye Tom? We’ll be fookin’ blown to bits.” Arthur said looking out the window. Paranoia already setting in.

“We’ll be fine. They’re getting what’s coming to them.” Thomas said, noticing his wife tensing up as he looked over towards her, her usual relaxed demeanor long gone. The ring on her finger that she was looking at, disappearing as the tears welled up in her eyes.

Polly sighed and clicked her manicured nails against her teacup, hoping that whatever strategy he had planned was good, knowing he’d go through with it no matter who tried to stop him.

“How do you know?” Y/N asked, wiping away her tears as the thought of bombs surrounding the shop ran through her mind.

“What?” Thomas asked, his voice even and unbothered by his family’s concerns.

“How do you know we’ll be fine huh? You said that three months ago and there I was trying to keep you from bleeding out on our driveway.” She said, cringing at the thought of when he’d come home miraculously after being shot in the abdomen, mere inches away from anything vital.

“That was different. This is a another gang with different ways of doing things.” He said, dismissing her concern as the family grew antsy.

“No it’s not. They all have the same fucking goals in mind, Thomas.” She said quietly, going straight to the bathroom. Not bothering to lock the door as she’d made quite the scene.

“When do we go?” John asked, breaking the awkward silence as Thomas tore his gaze from his wife’s empty seat.

Thomas didn’t answer him as he stormed out after her, not bothering to knock as he waltzed right in. “What were you trying to do back there aye? What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked, an anger to his voice that was usually only reserved for his brothers.

“Why are you in here yelling at me? I was trying to get you to think about your fucking family. You say everything is fine, you say everything will work out but how do you know?...” She asked as he stood there without an answer.

“That’s right. You don’t. But you go along with everything anyways not bothering to think about anyone else other than yourself and your little agenda! I’m tired of it.” She spat, looking at him angrily as she realized that was one of the only times she truly yelled at the man.

“I’m doing this to protect the family!” He said, running a hand over his tired face. Y/N looked at him for a few moments, her warm eyes meeting his ice cold ones.

“You signed up for this Y/N.” He said, inching closer to her.

“The only thing I signed up for was to love you. I didn’t sign up to watch us get blown up or to be pawns in your little games. I’m done.” She said, holding her palm to her stomach, the familiar nauseous feeling returning for the third time that week.

“I won’t let them hurt us.” He said, trying to take her hand in his but feeling her turn away.

“Tommy...you don’t realize how many nights I’ve stayed up for you. How many nights I’ve seen you in your office half alive. How many times I’ve dragged myself in here not wondering if I’d ever see you again. You don’t realize who all needs you, and I’m afraid you may never realize it because we’ll all be dead because of you one day.” She said turning to face him, her face pale and her hands shaking as she wiped her tears away once more.

“Why are you so worried about everything now aye? You know I have to do this or it’ll get worse.” He said, more quietly than before.

“Because....I can’t stand the thought of losing you. I know I can’t do anything to stop that but I can’t sit around here or at the house worrying all day. I have more to think about now...more to protect.” She said, leaning against the counter as he walked over to her, putting his arms around her in a tight hug.

“What are you not telling me aye?” He asked, his voice quiet like before, a hint of genuine concern in his voice.

“I’m pregnant, Tom...Just found out last week while you were gone. I was going to tell you later today but...I couldn’t after that meeting. It made me sick thinking about all the possibilities.” She said, looking down at the tiled floor. Her heart hurt at knowing he’d leave her again when she’d only recently gotten him back from one of his “missions.”

Thomas stood there and sighed, the gears shifting in his mind as he thought about what he could and couldn’t do. All the decisions he could make put them at risk, or more so himself, but this forced him to look at things slightly differently. She needed him there, now more than ever, and blowing himself up or getting himself shot wouldn’t do the family any good. But deep down he knew he had to do something.

“You’re thinking of another plan...I can’t believe you.” She spat, walking out of the shop and towards the car, knowing the safest place to be was probably their house.

Thomas punched the counter, frustrated at the woman he loved, the impact stinging his hand as he went back into his office.

“Get your things ready gentlemen. We’re going this evening. Pol I need you to tell me when you knew.” He said quickly, John quirking an eyebrow as he loaded his shotgun.

“She told me she felt off last week, so I read her tea leaves. She didn’t want to tell you until you came back, and it wasn’t my place to tell her business.” She said.

“What’s our dear sister in law hiding aye? She left here in a hurry after all that.” Arthur said.

“She’s pregnant.” Thomas said lighting a cigarette, an expression on his face that was hard to pin down. Frustration, happiness, fear, sorrow, all of them danced around his head as he thought through his plan.

“Well let’s get this over with then brother. You have some making up to do since she left like she did.” Arthur said.

“My wife is my concern Arthur. Just get the guns, get the grenades, and get in the car.” He said sternly.

“....right.” Arthur said, giving Polly a quick hug and patting John on the back before heading out to his car.

“She’s worried about everyone, about me, about the bombs. Hell she’s the safest of all of us if she’s at home though.” Thomas said, mumbling as Polly watched him.

“Of course she’s worried Tom. You plan this stuff out on a whim and expect everyone to go along. What she needs is support and to know you’ll be okay. You’re her husband and the father of her child for Christ’s sake, at least try to not get yourself killed so you can see the poor thing. God...Planning all these things and throwing bombs whenever ya please will only get ya that much closer to your grave.” She said walking out of the room.

Thomas stood there with a blank stare, his cigarette dangling from his lips as he went over the last hour in his head. For as many things he planned, Y/N always knew how to keep him on his toes, and this by far was the best, yet most frustrating one. He wanted to be there for her, and he never doubted that for a second. But he couldn’t guarantee his safety and he knew she was right about that. So with all his will, he sauntered out to the car, telling the boys the new plan, and hauling off to finish the job, praying to nothing in particular that they’d all make it home.

As the hours passed by, the sunlight soon faded as a grenade was thrown, taking out the last three men that they couldn’t shoot down. It wasn’t his plan to start out, since he wanted to bomb their whole operation, but for Y/N’s sake, he told his brothers to use one bomb to avoid hurting themselves, and innocent people nearby. They had enough ammo to take down the rest, even if they had to take cover behind the rickety barstools and old tables.

“You sure you didn’t want to use those other grenades Tom? Just take down the whole building?” Arthur asked breathlessly as they loaded up the car.

“No. Wasn’t worth it. We can use the others some other time.” He said shortly, not wanting to discuss how he’d stopped himself from throwing the others out of love for her. Thinking it would make him seem weak.

“Alright, well let’s get back. You have some explaining to do at home.” Arthur said driving as fast as he could to Thomas’ manor to drop him off. With a small salute, they drove off, John smoking a cigar out the back as they disappeared into the night.

The house was quiet as Thomas arrived, the only light coming from his study as the door was cracked open. Music was playing lightly as he opened the door, Y/N lying on one of the lounge chairs with a book lazily in her hand. Her eyes closed and a soft snore escaping her lips as she slept by the fire.

Thomas plucked the book from her hand gently, putting it back on the bookshelf. Noticing how she shuffled around in her sleep, her brow furrowing almost in worry like a bad dream. Quietly, he walked over to his desk, taking off his coat and everything else work related until he was in his pants and dress shirt, the gun that was nestled in its holster gently placed on the desk as well.

With a swift movement, he gently picked her up, carrying her to their room. The lavish king bed greeting them both as he laid her down, Y/N almost instinctively reaching for him despite their earlier argument.

“Goodnight love. We’ll talk in the morning.” He said as he ran his hand down her back, settling in beside her.

“I love you...” She mumbled before drifting off once again.

“Love you too.” He said quietly knowing she was out. With a small kiss to her head he laid his head back against his pillow, dreams of Y/N and their child filling his mind for once instead of horrid nightmares.

The next morning he awoke to Y/N retching in the bathroom, the morning sickness finally living up to its name as the week went on.

Thomas got up in concern, lightly tapping on the door.

“You alright love? Can I get you anything?” He asked.

“No. I’m fine.” She said shortly, her brain fog from the nights sleep clearing from her mind as she remembered their fight. Her heart aching at his reaction and at his decision he’d made to continue with his plan last night.

After washing up, she finally left the restroom, haphazardly putting her clothes on as she looked at the clock. The time reading dangerously close to when they’d usually leave for work.

“We’re going to be late. Why aren’t you getting ready?” She asked.

“We’re taking the day off.” He said sitting back into the lavish pillows and lighting a cigarette.

Y/N scoffed, and sat next to him, her mind racing to how he’d be up and begging to go to work in less than an hour.

“Tommy Shelby taking a day off? That’s fucking unheard of.” She said, reaching for his hand that was now draped over her leg.

“We need it. Even if it’s only for today.” He said.

“Why?” She asked, messing with the few rings he had on his fingers.

“We need to talk about yesterday. And....I didn’t have the best reaction....so I wanted to apologize. You have me to yourself for the rest of the day.” He said, a slight smirk on his face.

Y/N sighed as she remembered, their heated argument filling the walls of the shop restroom as she tried to get him to see reason, knowing not even she could get him to change his mind, or so she thought.

“I changed my plan last night. I was going to bomb the whole place...but uh...when I looked at them....I saw you. I only used one and we shot the rest.” He said, hating he had to tell her the details but that unfortunately came with the territory of marrying a gang leader.

“Really? Only one?” She asked, her eyes flicking up to his as they laid their on the bed.

“Mhmm. Didn’t want to hurt other people ‘round there. I saw women and their children near the place...and it got me thinking of what you’d said earlier...I couldn’t use more after that.” He said, finally coming to peace with the fact he didn’t have to completely obliterate the place to get his message across, saving innocent lives in the long run.

Y/N smiled as she gazed into his eyes, trying not to drown in the ocean blue orbs as he took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips.

“I know I didn’t have the best reaction yesterday to the news...but I am happy. I can’t wait to see them. And I know you’ll be a wonderful mother. I couldn’t be happier, love.” He said softly, gently resting his hand atop her stomach and kissing her temple.

Y/N nodded, a sense of relief flowing off her as she finally knew he wasn’t upset. Even if she’d had Polly find out before him.

“Thank you...” She said quietly, the sunlight streaming in through windows as she pulled him closer to her, not wanting to let him go anytime soon.

“Are we going to lie in bed all day?” He asked.

“You said I had ya all to myself, I can think of a few other things we could do.” She said, smirking at him as she pulled him in for a kiss. Both of them looking forward to spending the day with each other, even though it was a rare occurrence.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

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[distinctlywhumpthing]

Together 16: A night out.

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CW: Explicit language and content, Whumper POV, torture, long-term captivity, conditioning, dehumanization, collar, noncon (nonsexual) touching, creepy whumper, intimate whumper, manipulation, broken fingers, electrocution, letmeknowifimissedany

“You look perfect,” I tell her because she does.

The color of the shirt warms her complexion and the skirt follows the curves of her waist and hips before flaring out gently. Her legs look impossibly long even though the skirt falls midway down her thighs. I want to chase the sliver of skin that appears between the shirt and skirt at her waist every time she moves.

Maybe it is worth a little extra effort to see her in different clothes.

She furrows her eyebrows, trying to look indignant but her eyes reveal her anxiety.

Well, that can’t be helped. In fact, that’s half the point of this outing. I never intended for her to be kept here exclusively. I want to keep her safe but as a result, she’s grown too fearful.

She keeps fidgeting with the clothes, pulling and smoothing the fabric. Her feet wriggle inside the black high tops and she’s wrapped the laces around her slender ankles once before tying them, just like she used to.

I step closer and sweep her hands away.

She clasps them behind her back and searches my face nervously while I fix the turtleneck of the sleeveless top. I would have considered it acceptable for her to fix it herself but I appreciate her careful discretion so much, I don’t correct her.

I roll it evenly so that it sits neatly over the collar. I slide my arm around her waist, tracing that bare skin and pulling her close as I lead us outside. “Come on, Emmy. I planned this just for you.”

She turns her head to look up at me, brow furrowed, and she dips her eyes from my face down and back again. She’s afraid I’m going to leave her alone, like the last time in the store. She needs to just trust me.

I buckle her into the passenger seat of the car. As soon as I’m in the driver’s seat, she leans over and twines her arms around mine, leaning her head against me. I don’t have a lot of patience for her irrational fear but I never get tired of how clingy it makes her.

She tries to glue herself to my side the moment I let her out of the car. Both hands grip mine and she holds my arm in front of her body, intending to walk half behind me, burying her face in my shirt. She looks like she’s never been outside in her life.

“Emma,” I warn, looking down at her over my shoulder.

She bites her bottom lip but peels off of me and steps a reasonable distance away. She drops one hand off of mine and clutches a fistful of the skirt with it instead.

I can feel her trembling. “Christ, Emma. We’re in public for fuck’s sake. What do you think I’m going to make you do?”

Her eyes drop down. She’s hiding her expression because she knows I hate it. Anger, hatred, sadness, resentment, waryness, fear. All fine. She’s entitled. But I will not tolerate that look of betrayal like she expected anything different from me and somehow I’ve let her down.

“You don’t even freak out half this much before torturing August anymore,” I tell her.

It works.

Her face floods with shame instead.

Once we start walking through the park, her shaking turns to rigid tension. It’s already dark out but there are strings of lights and paper lanterns connected every streetlight on the path. There are plenty of people but I chose a weeknight so there would be fewer. The air is still warm from the heat of the day and Emma fits right in, looking like any of the other twenty-somethings we pass. Her eyes are wider than ever as she takes everything in, expression blank with overwhelm. She can’t help relaxing the longer we walk down this innocuous path, especially when the food trucks start.

“What do you want?” I offer even though I already know the answer. She loves noodles of any kind and we just passed some.

Emma stops and turns her head to look at the truck with pad thai.

“Okay,” I say, taking my hand to get my wallet. I hold out a twenty to her. “Go ahead.”

She gapes at me then shakes her head quickly, stepping closer before realizing I already forbade clinging. Her feet stop short, toes drawing together. She crosses one arm over her waist, shielding herself while her other hand still hasn’t let go of the fistful of skirt. She shakes her head again.

I don’t mind her trepidation. I know she’ll do it in the end. She just needs a little more context first.

“Emma, you have to eat,” I explain calmly, stepping closer. “This is already a lot for you. I won’t have you getting sick again. We don’t want that, right?”

She shakes her head, eyes narrowing. Suspicious because she knows where this is heading.

“You’re worried about having to order from that truck and the attention it might draw.” I pause and lower my voice, leaning toward her. “I think you’re forgetting how much attention it would draw if I had to use the collar. If you drop to the ground, someone might even call an ambulance…”

She pulls back, reactions playing across her face. Her expression settles into the one I wanted. One of my favorites. Perfect dark eyebrows raised, mouth set in a wry line. Daring me. She knows I’d never let her go to the hospital—never let anyone take her.

I hold up my hands, chuckling. “Alright, not that part,” I admit. “But it will be a scene and neither one of us wants that.”

Emma purses her lips and stares me down.

I love when she’s like this. It’s so much better than the vapid, blind panic. Finally, still a little daring, she cocks one eyebrow again and looks up to the right. Half an eye-roll. A perfect white flag I’d never consider punishing. Fuck if she isn’t amazing. Sometimes I swear she plays me as often as I play her. She looks a little smug at my reaction before taking the bill.

Her hesitation returns once she starts toward the truck. I don’t know how she doesn’t realize she has nothing to worry about. Between those huge, wide eyes, her beautiful face, and petite frame, people naturally want to help her. I’ve seen the fondness in the faces of everyone we’ve passed tonight. The food truck worker’s expression is already softening as she sees Emma walking up. One smile and Emma could probably eat for free.

If only she could relax enough to take advantage of it. Well, practice makes perfect. I make her order my food, too, and get us drinks from a third stand.

By the time we sit down, she’s flushed and I can see her heart racing at the base of her throat. I have her drink a few sips of soda so she doesn’t go fainting on me. After she finishes eating, she leans back in the chair, looking up to admire the lights above. Her long legs are crossed at the ankle and wrapped around one leg of the chair and she keeps her arms folded gently over her waist. Still, a small smile plays on her lips.

I wait, watching, until she looks back at me. I pull one of her hands off her waist and bring her fingers to my lips, then place a few more bills in them.

“Go back to that first stand and get us some churros,” I tell her. “Don’t forget the chocolate sauce.”

Her eyes search my face. She’s past questioning me. Now she’s looking for reassurance. Worried I might disappear since I’m giving her so much leeway to be out of sight. I could leave her here as a test or, worse, because I don’t want her anymore. More ridiculous, irrational fear but this particular one softens me.

“I’ll be waiting right here,” I promise her gently.

Relief washes over her features.

I watch her skirt swing as she walks away. Her posture could be better but I don’t think there’s any way to correct that here. She doesn’t even look over her shoulder to check that I’m keeping my word. She trusts me not to lie maybe a little more than she should. Although, I do generally try not to if it can be avoided. It’s better to be consistent and transparent, it avoids so much unnecessary suffering.

There is a noticeable quickness to her stride when she reappears around the curve of the path a few minutes later. Now, she is looking over her shoulder. Her eyes seek mine out immediately and I’m on my feet. I don’t even care that she’s empty-handed. Her face is a mask of panic and her eyes are filling. I hurry to meet her halfway and pull her shaking frame into my arms.

I see what she was trying to avoid—there’s a few guys, paper bag-wrapped bottles in hand, rounding the corner. I turn us around so she’s shielded from their view and move us off the path, through the trees. She clings to the front of my shirt, sobbing. The group passes without noticing us, either already having forgotten about Emma or too drunk to be effective in searching. I tilt her face up and wipe the tears away with my thumb.

“Did they touch you?” I can hear the edge in my own voice.

She shakes her head, tears still running down her cheeks.

“Emma, did they recognize you?”

She nods, looking down.

“Fuck.”

This is the other reason we never go out.

I start walking, holding her fingers tightly while I pull her along. I don’t quite register her other hand, on my wrist. I can’t tell if she is pushing or pulling. It doesn’t matter. My mind is elsewhere. Damage control. I run through the people on my payroll who could be useful. It depends on the band of idiots more than anything. My calm is slipping as my frustration mounts. I want to handle it personally but I have to bring Emma back first.

We reach the car and I finally turn to look at her after I open the door. She’s barely breathing through clenched teeth. I let her go and she gingerly cradles her hand to her chest. My inattentive grip must have broken her smallest two fingers. They’re already swelling.

She steps away from me and there it is. The look of betrayal. She’s not even trying to hide it.

“Emma.”

She backs into the door of the car, expression unchanged. Eyes flicking to my hand, the direction we came in, down to the ground.

Instead of making me angrier, her defiance centers me.

I step forward, pinning her against the car door, and take her hand in mine.

She doesn’t try to pull away but she doesn’t wipe that look off her face either.

The next finger breaks so easily, it’s a wonder I only broke two unintentionally.

Emma is crying now which only intensifies her expression. Her eyes are wide as she stares up at me, blinking past tears. Face still a mask of betrayal and disbelief.

Behavior. Consequences. Control.

I hold her gaze and break another finger.

Her face contorts with the magnified pain but it only lasts a moment.

There. Now, she’s slipping into that space. The one she needs and I require. That equally completes and dismantles. Giving us what we both crave.

Her face empties and her eyes clear, not vacant but free.

Free of judgment, pain, or fear. Bare for me to redress. Wholly mine.

My fingers find the remote in my pocket and I hit the last button.

Emma’s eyes widen at the shock but her expression remains a plain of acceptance. She passes out before her body has even gone limp and she falls against me, back still arching for a moment as the current wrings her out.

I lay her on the passenger seat, careful of her broken hand, and lock her in.

I have to keep her safe.

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Taglist: @deluxewhump @no-whump-on-main @whumpy-writings @maracujatangerine

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V2; report xiv 

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, workplace relationships

warnings: none to note

word count: 2.4k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

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Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

“Do you really have to leave me?” you drag the words out as you chew your dinner, one you insisted on having inside Ayoung’s apartment on her last day. You even add a cute little pout afterwards, hoping that Ayoung might reconsider her moving last minute. 

“_________, that was literally the third time you asked me tonight. One more and I think I might change my mind.” 

You sit up straighter, an expectant look on your face. “Really?” 

“I’m afraid not, __________. I’m even surprised you kept asking when you literally helped me pack the last of my stuff. Shouldn’t you have been doing the opposite if you wanted me to stay?” 

You let out a rather unattractive burp and a pretty loud one at that, then you sigh again for the nth time tonight, knowing it’s going to be a while before you find another neighbor that is as unbothered by your poor table etiquette as Ayoung. 

Speaking of neighbors, a coworker’s face pops into your mind and you’re suddenly reminded of your embarrassing encounter with Jungkook just the other day in the very corridor just a door away from where you were seated. “By the way...that guy you brought over the other day…” 

“Oh him?” 

You brace yourself for the bad news, tilting your head towards Ayoung while you wait for her response. “Yeah, I don’t think he’ll be moving in anytime soon.” 

“Oh,” comes your reply, shockingly nonchalant enough to mask the joy of not having Jungkook as your neighbor. Giddy, you prod her on, wanting to hear the rest of the story. “Shame though, he was such a hottie.” 

“How did you even meet him in the first place?” 

“Just last week I went to a cafe to study and partly cure a hangover from the previous night, I checked the post I uploaded for new possible tenants and Jungkook...that’s his name by the way...he was one of the first who sent a message about wanting to see the apartment in person, so we agreed to meet up on a later date.” Ayoung pauses for a moment, stacking a box on top of another. 

“But just a few moments later while I was reading, this boy came up to me and asked if I was...well me and he told me he was Jungkook. Eventually, he asked if I was free because he mentioned that he had nothing else to do that day and he would’ve appreciated it if he got to see the place and have a drink at the same time.” 

There’s a funny look on her face and you raise a brow questioningly. “Have you ever seen a man more attractive in just sweats?” Oh Christ. 

“I mean, most guys would look like a hobo in those, plus he’s probably dumb for just walking around in sweats with only 25 degrees outside but damn.... You know only truly hot men can pull off looks like that. And he surely was packing.” Shocked to the core, you stare at her with your mouth hanging open, not wanting to believe all of these were coming from your sweet sweet Ayoung. Especially not when they’re about Jungkook. 

“So I thought, why not right? I guess the hot chocolate I made wasn’t the only thing that was warm that night…” A suggestive smirk graces her lips and you scoot farther away from her, absolutely scandalized. 

Much to your chagrin, your mind betrays you with rather raunchy images. Goosebumps line the skin on your arms as the embarrassment comes back to you in waves. “Gosh Jungkook, that little fucker.” 

Ayoung creases her brows. “You know Jungkook?” 

Crap. Ayoung wasn’t supposed to end up knowing this. 

“Yeah I know him. Sort of.” 

“Oh, too bad. It would have been great if he moved in so you won’t have to deal with a total stranger for a neighbor. Where do you know Jungkook from?” 

You contemplate for a moment, wanting to weigh if it would be of any benefit having to tell the story of how you met Jungkook. Ultimately, you ended up sharing a brief background, missing out on a few vital points aka Jungkook being a total prick. 

You help Ayoung bring down the rest of her stuff to the lobby, wanting to see her off. “I wanted to bring you to your new apartment but I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, and being late won’t be a good record this early in my job.” 

“It’s alright, silly.” Ayoung leans in for a hug. “We’ll see each other again soon, yeah?” 

“You’re making it sound like I’m moving overseas, stop it!” 

You wait until she gets inside the cab she booked, waving at the car’s rear until it fully disappears from your sight. 

The next day you wake up freezing your ass off, even with you wrapped in a duvet burrito. You take a peek outside your window, grunting as a blanket of snow envelops everything in sight. Everything is white, and the gray trails on the road are the only thing that distinguishes the street from the sidewalk. 

You do your morning routine fairly quickly, spending the rest of your spare time watching people outside your window while you finish your coffee. As a motorbike moves along the length of the street in front of your building, you silently wish the driver a safe trip, hoping he or she didn’t have to use such a vehicle in this weather. 

You take another sip and Jimin instantly enters your scrambled thoughts, remembering how he mentioned he uses a scooter to and from work. There’s a side of you that is assured the Jimin is responsible enough to know how risky it is to use a scooter during the winter. 

The other half of your brain, though, isn’t convinced. Quickly, you set your mug aside, replacing it with your phone and dialing Jimin’s number. He answers after three rings. “_________?” 

“Hey Jimin, I know it’s too early for me to be calling you but I was wondering if you were going to use your scooter on your way to work today?” 

“I was--” 

“Because if you were planning to, don’t. It’s snowing really hard outside and I’m worried you’ll be taking your friend’s scooter on the slippery road….Would you mind if I’ll offer you a ride?” 

You know you were risking a lot, with your own car - your very own Camry which you don’t even trust. It has aged gracefully, and was clearly nearing its end but you knew four wheels was better than two in this snow. 

“I don’t...but I also wouldn’t want you to come all the way here to pick me up when I can just take the subway? Or the bus maybe…” 

“Would you rather pick one that asks for a fare or a free ride?” 

“You’re not exactly giving me a choice here, _________.”

“Great! ‘Cause I’m already on my way to pick you up.” 

“Thank you for the ride, sunbaenim.” Jungkook pulls on the handbrake before setting his hands on the Porsche’s steering wheel for the last time.

‘Someday’, he says to himself, someday he’ll get a car of his own. Someday. 

“Thank you for also letting me drive your car…” 

“She’s a beaut isn’t she?” the younger doctor nods, wanting to rub his palms over the dashboard in fascination, but then he wouldn’t have wanted the senior resident to think he was some sort of lunatic. 

Jungkook decides to keep his hands on his lap instead. 

“You live around the area?” 

“Yeah, just a few blocks from the garage…” 

“Really? Which apartment do you live in? I’m quite familiar with the area.” 

Jungkook is hesitant to mention the name of the building knowing that the apartment complex he stays at most likely has a reputation because it’s the cheapest he could find around the area. 

Before the intern opens his mouth to reply, Seokjin’s phone rings just on time, the sound startling the latter. He opens the car door and alights from the vehicle to get more reception. Jungkook grabs his bag from the back and follows after shortly. Seokjin points to his phone, mouthing that Jungkook doesn’t need to wait for him, so the intern bows to his senior in gratitude, before heading off to the main building. 

As he passes a vending machine, he remembers he wasn’t able to bring his jug with him today so he approaches the machine, scanning other options he could take with his water. He comes across a small carton of banana milk and a thought crosses his mind, a smirk playing on his lips as he adds the beverage to his purchase. 

Jungkook hurries to the on-call room, hoping his tiny plan will fall into place. 

“Thanks for the ride, ________. I owe you so much already. You’re too kind.” 

You wave Jimin off, expressing your worry and how you thought you wouldn’t be able to handle your conscience if you didn’t ask about his mode of transportation to work today. Jimin gives you a warm smile in return. 

“You’re a good friend, _________.” Jimin leans over the center console and gives you an awkward side hug, catching you completely off guard. 

“Woops! Sorry! I didn’t… wasn’t…” Jimin has his hands waving around in the air as he tries to apologize for hugging you out of the blue. “It’s fine, Jimin,” you laugh as you put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it.”

Tilting your head outside, you tell him that you both should get going and that you’ll be heading to the toilet first to get changed. While Jimin heads to the surgery department, you make your way to the parking lot’s toilets, bumping into the one and only banana-milk-thief Jeon Jungkook. 

“Hi _________, good morning!” He chirps, the uncharacteristically wide smile on his face throwing you off for a moment. 

At least somebody woke up on the right side of the bed today. Jungkook chuckles, and you realize you weren’t supposed to say that out loud, but you’re somewhat proud that you did, making your sentiments towards the guy as clear as day. 

“Bit rich coming from you miss grumpypants.” 

Your mouth falls open. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me, darling. See ya later....grumpy.” Before Jungkook leaves, he manages to give you a quick noogie, definitely messing up what’s left of the quick messy bun you made before leaving your apartment. 

Taking in a deep, long breath, you calm your nerves down, deciding today wasn’t going to be the day Jungkook was gonna get to you. 

After your brief encounter at the parking lot, Jungkook heads quickly to the on-call room and looks for a place inconspicuous but visible enough for you to see. He plucks a sticky note from a stack from the shelf just above the table and grabs his pen from his chest pocket. 

Jungkook folds the yellow square into half and writes your name on it, just in case nobody would dare take a carton of milk for someone named after a dwarf from Snow White.  He then sticks the note on the moist packaging, hopeful that the slight sheen of water will help stick the paper onto the carton.

Recognizing Jimin’s voice from the door, Jungkook quickly hides his peace offering behind the files on the table, and pretends he’s reading the patient’s charts before Jimin nears where he’s standing. You and Soomin enter the room shortly afterwards. 

“Just in time!” Namjoon says, adjusting the large frame of his glasses. “Right, as you may already know from the orientation, I’m Kim Namjoon, resident, and specializing in neuro. I’ll be guiding you all throughout admissions and reports this morning while I am waiting for my Chiari decompression scheduled in a few hours.” 

Namjoon gathers the rest of the surgical interns before proceeding to the wards to do rounds with the group. He partners with the head nurse and another doctor from the night shift, updating the patient’s condition before moving on to the others. 

As soon as his rounds are done, he leads the group back to the on-call room to brief the interns on using the EMR system to keep a patient’s chart updated at all times. To speed up the charting, he asks everyone to come up in pairs and update the patient records. 

True to the plan he’d come up with at the spur of the moment, Namjoon and the interns manage to get the job done quicker than expected. With the night shift’s updates already uploaded, the group disperses to carry out the orders and responsibilities.

Jimin, with his throat parched after having come up and down multiple flights of stairs, decides to return to the on-call room to get something to drink. He breathlessly pages Jungkook about it, telling him he’ll get back to his partner after drinking. 

He no longer waits for Jungkook’s okay, too thirsty to even think straight. As Jimin goes through his stuff, he realizes he must have forgotten his jug inside your car but having to call you about it would have been too bothersome for you and him both. 

There’s a water dispenser in the room but there are no cups or mugs free for him to use - and too unsanitary as well. Jimin searches the room in desperation and spots a carton of banana milk just behind some of the patient’s charts. 

He makes a grab for the small carton, checking if it’s got any owner. There’s none written on the carton and no note stuck to it to indicate that it belongs to someone. He spots Yoongi on his phone just by the other corner of the room and approaches the senior resident. 

“Excuse me, sunbaenim. Is this yours?” He points to the carton in his hands. Yoongi shakes his head no. “Any name written on it? Some note perhaps?” 

“I couldn't find any.” 

“Well, it’s yours then. All food on the table is communal unless it’s otherwise labeled.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders as he explains, giving Jimin a thumbs up afterwards. 

“Alright. Thanks sunbaenim.” 

Throat as dry as the Sahara, Jimin grabs the drink and punches the straw in as quickly as he could before finishing the drink in a few gulps. ‘Thank god for free banana milk.’ He thinks to himself before throwing the packaging away, now more energized than ever.

© joontier 2021

[mandoalorian]

Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 11

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - references to verbal abuse and a neglectful mother.

Author’s note: After an accidental one month hiatus, I’m back! I’m nervous about posting this because I haven’t updated December Magic since I saw WW84. As you may have noticed, I have rebranded this fic and the name is now called ‘Sugar and Spice’! There is a slight time jump in this chapter, and it’s just a short one as I ween back into it, but I realised I was struggling so much continuing this fic after seeing WW84 because it just didn’t feel like the Max Lord we ended up with was anything like the Max Lord in this fic. This chapter is my attempt to make amends and draw a link between Sugar and Spice and WW84. 

While I’m here I want to give a shout out to my new on-going Max Lord series ‘I Believe In Love’, which you can read here. I Believe In Love is like my baby and I am so so proud of it thus far.  Anyways, enjoy chapter 11 of December Magic!

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He hadn’t come home for Christmas. He hadn’t come home for two months. It was fine at first. He called you as soon as he reached London, just like he promised. He expressed to you how busy he was with work commitments and how difficult it was for him to cope with the timezones. The distance between the UK and USA was devastating. Your hour long phone calls gradually became more spread out and only lasted a few minutes, and honestly? It broke your heart. There you were; living in Lord Manor, and Maxwell had kept his word: “you want for nothing”. You had everything. His weighty black AMEX card, a house staff such as a butler and a chef and your own personal driver to take you wherever you wished to go. Any material possessions you wished for… they were yours. You weren’t even working for the privilege or the money. Max was far away and yet, he made sure you still had a home and a life, and he made sure that you were safe.

But there was still an extreme void in your heart. You were missing Maxwell. You’d try calling him but there was always a dead line. Not even Raquel would answer. You felt like you were drifting apart and your whole body ached with dread as you wondered if Max had forgotten about you. You’d kept in contact with Maxwell’s three assistants at Black Gold and they had no information on the work commitments that Max was supposedly seeing too. The romance you had shared during December may have been a whirlwind, but you knew him better than any other person on the planet and you felt like he was deliberately avoiding you.

There was something not right.

***

“Kitty!” Maxwell cried, his cheeks burning red and his eyes flicking with bewilderment as the child was thrust into his arms. A ghost from his past. Kitty was an ex lover of Maxwell’s, and honestly one of many. He hadn’t thought about her in years.

“I’ve brought him up for the past six years, he’s your problem now!” Kitty spat, an evil smirk crossing her lips. “I see you on the television with all your fame and fortune, if you don’t want him then the least you can do is pay a nanny to watch him. I have nothing Max. A shitty little apartment in the east of London. I’m working for a modelling internship but it’s hard to find luck when I’ve got a six year old kid dragging my heels behind.”

“Dragging your heels?” Maxwell repeated, furiosity burning his lungs. “He’s your son for Christ sake! How can you say that? Right in front of him!” 

Maxwell turned back to the child who was standing as still as ever in the centre of the hotel room, nervously looking at his feet. Everytime Kitty raised her voice, the boy winced, and it crushed Max. This situation was all too familiar to him. 

“He’s your son too!” Kitty glared, her face just as cold as her heart. “I want nothing to do with him. Goodbye.” Kitty said, her voice venomous, before leaving the hotel room and slamming the door behind her.

Maxwell’s knees felt weak and wobbly and he stumbled to his bed, sinking down with an exasperated sigh. Max’s hands cradled his own face and he blinked away unshed tears before sitting back up and looking at the six year old boy. The boy was silent, and his dark eyes matched the sadness of his father’s. How could this have happened?

Maxwell Lord had a son.

Max didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say? He remembered doing work in London back in 1977; it was the start of his big break, and his bachelor persona hadn’t changed much since then. When Kitty found out Maxwell was back in London, she used it as her one final chance to track him down. Turns out, a big name CEO such as Max Lord was hard to get a hold of, especially when he lived on the other side of the world. Kitty never had pure intentions. Of course the pregnancy was unplanned and the sad reality was, Alistair was unwanted by his mother. Kitty was an aspiring model, fueled by ambition and goal, much like Maxwell. She didn’t have a single maternal instinct in her. Only there was a significant difference between Alistair’s parents. Whilst Kitty cared so little about her son, Maxwell knew that from this day forward, Alistair would be his top priority. He would never let his job intervene with his son. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes his own parents did.

Maxwell never thought about children, or considered bringing any into the world. He told himself he’d never want to be a father. He had such a terrible upbringing himself and his mother was wicked, he’d be too afraid. He’d never want to hurt or disappoint a potential child of his the way his own parents had hurt and disappointed him. But when he looked into his son’s eyes he felt nothing but determination. He’d been an absent father and that was not okay. Max just wished he’d known about his son before now. But it’s not like he could turn back time. Max knew he had to make amends and he knew he had to do it now.

Maxwell opened his arms and held Alistair’s hands, bringing him close and holding him tight against his chest. “My son,” he whispered, trying to refrain from crying. “I love you so much. I know you don’t know me, but you will, and I will spend the rest of my life making you proud. You are my everything.”

“You saved me daddy,” Alistair whimpered, tears spilling and dampening his father’s pinstripe shirt. “Thank you.”

***

You waited every day for Maxwell to return, but you never expected him. You were laying on the living room sofa, a blanket wrapped around you, half asleep as the muse from the television drowned out your thoughts. When you heard the lock on the front door click open, you thought you were dreaming. There was no way. No way. Footsteps. Hell, there was more chance of an intruder than it was Max. You rubbed your eyes and cautiously rose to your feet.

Your heart sank when he entered the room. It was him. He was home. Tears filled your eyes and you couldn’t hide the excited grin that painted your lips. “Oh my god Max!” you squealed, running up to him. He looked tired, but he was smiling too. You were inclined to run into his arms, but your focus on his face left you without realizing the small sleeping child he was carrying in his arms.

You blinked in confusion, your gaze flicking between Maxwell and the boy. “This is Alistair, my son.” Maxwell informed you, his voice hoarse and low. At the mention of his name Alistair stirred in his sleep and Maxwell immediately, on instinct, shushed him. 

“You-what?” You were speechless. You knew something was wrong the second Max had distanced himself. The second the phone calls had stopped and he hadn’t come home. You knew something was wrong when his assistants said his work schedule was clear. But never in a million years did you expect your sugar daddy to come home with a son.

“I didn’t know,” Max whispered in avoidance to wake up Alistair. “It’s a long story but I promise I’ll tell you everything. I’m sorry I didn’t come home for Christmas like I promised. I’m so sorry baby. I’ll make up for it.”

You couldn’t even gather words. You swallowed the hard lump in your throat and contemplated everything. You sighed. You believed Max - how could you not? Of course, you were very interested in learning all about his secret son but you supposed that didn’t matter too much right now. All that mattered is that Max was home, and safe. You smiled and rested your hand on Alistair’s forehead, brushing his straight black hair out of his face. Alistair smiled sleepily under your touch. Max’s cheeks grew warm with admiration as you comforted his son. It meant a lot to him that you took a liking to Alistair and that you accepted the fact Alistair was in his life now, and nothing would change that.

After all, Max Lord was still hopelessly devoted and in love with you.

“Come on,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to cup Maxwell’s face. You brushed your thumb over the height of his cheekbone and Max found himself subconsciously leaning into your touch. “Let’s take him to bed and go to bed ourselves. We clearly have a lot to catch up on.”

Max nodded his head in affirmation and you followed him upstairs. He took Alistair to a guest bedroom and gently tucked him under the blankets, pressing a caring kiss into his son’s forehead before turning back to you. As you watched his gentle actions, it was like you were witnessing a whole new side to Maxwell. And it was beautiful.

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[libraryofloveletters]

Outfits

Since Spencer returned from prison, things have changed. One thing that hasn't changed ? His outfits.

Spencer Reid x Reader 

Warnings: fem!reader, cursing, alcohol consumption, allusion of sex, making out

Category: fluff/smut (if you look really hard?) 

Word count: 1.6k

Author's Note: this picture and my love for Spencer in glasses and that pink shirt is the inspiration. #thepinkshirtreturns 

-----

Today was supposed to be a quiet day at home with your boyfriend. Spencer was always on the go, especially since he returned home from prison. He threw himself into work and when he’s not working, he’s teaching. He had promised you that the two of you would spend the day getting wine drunk and cooking dinner, although you both know you’d end up ordering a pizza. That promise was broken when Garica called Spencer not even halfway through your day. 

You were getting ready when you heard the phone ring, Spencer was still in the shower so you answered for him. “Hi Penelope” “oh hello my gorgeous, how are you?” “I was great until you called, you guys have a case don’t you?” Spencer walked into the bedroom, hair wet with a towel wrapped around his waist. Penelope sighed “afraid so, let boy wonder we need him here soon” “will do Penny” you hung up and turned to Spencer. Sighing, you sat on the bed, “I have a case don't I?” you nodded. “I’m so sorry baby, you know I’d stay if I could” “I know, get dressed. I’ll pack some clothes for you” You knew he loved his job, you didn't want to be a bitter girlfriend and make him pick between you and his job. You could never do that to him, it would break his heart. Spencer went off to get ready while you started to take clothes out the closet for him. You had created a pile of clothes on your bed, then you turned to the dresser to get a tie for him. You opened the drawer and started tumbling through it for ties to match. Something pink caught your eye, you knew Spencer didn’t have any pink ties and curiosity got the best of you. You pulled it out and smiled, it was the pink shirt he was wearing the day he met you. 

*Flashback to 8 years ago* 

You worked in a small coffee shop outside of the F.B.I head office. Most of your day was spent making coffee for snobby agents who were way over dressed for your coffee shop. You were about to close for the day, you were sweeping with your back to the door, which a handsome Agent Morgan had warned you about many times. “You never know who could be coming in sweets, pay attention” is what he had said after he scared you one afternoon. When you heard the chime on the door ring, you mentally groaned. “We’re closed” you turned around to see someone you had never seen before. He was tall and skinny, wearing a baby pink shirt and brown slacks, converses on his feet and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. You noticed the F.B.I badge attached to his bag, he didn't look like the other agents, let alone old enough to be one. “Do you need something?” “oh um, yes please. My friend said you make really good coffee, I”m sure it’s better than what we have at the office” you chuckled “ oh yeah? who's your friend?” “Derek, uh Derek Morgan. He says he comes here all the time” You made a large for him and continued talking to him “you know Agent Morgan ? Are you his computer tech or something ?” “Actually, no. My name is Dr. Spencer Reid, I'm Derek’s partner. We work together at the Behavioural Analysis Unit” he told you proudly. You turned around and looked at him “Really? so you catch serial killers too?” “yes I do” “hm interesting” you picked a pen and scribbled something down on his cup, he watched you as you wrote. Handing his cup, he looked down to see you had written your number and your name on his cup. “Call me sometime Dr. Reid” 

*End of Flashback*

You folded the shirt and slipped into his bag along with his other clothes, you grabbed his glasses from his nightstand and slipped it into the case and into his bag. He rarely ever wears them but you always pack them on the off chance that he might need them. When you came down with his bag, he was putting on his shoes “did you eat?” “yes, I had cereal and some coffee” you took his bag with you to the kitchen to check that he had actually eaten. Knowing if you had left the bag, he’d grab it and run out, shouting a goodbye to you. Seeing the dirty bowl and mug in the sink, you walked back handing him his bag “there you go doctor, all packed and ready to go” He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, your arms around his neck. He leaned down and kissed you, you kissed him back and smiled “you know I don't want to leave you” “yes, but I also know your job comes first” you ran your hands through his messy curls. “It’s okay my love, I’ll be here when you get back. Just promise me that you’ll be safe” you stuck your pinky out, he wrapped his pinky around yours “I promise” He kissed you once more, this time was different. This wasn't a goodbye kiss, like the one he had given you the time you visited him in prison. This was a “I'll be back” kiss, you both pulled away, smiling at each other. “Be safe Spencer” “I will” he let go of you and headed out, turning back once more to give you a smile. 

*A week later*

An empty bottle of wine and a half eaten box of pizza was sitting on your coffee table in front of you, you were wearing shorts and Spencer’s old Caltech sweater. He called earlier to let you know that the case is taking a little longer than expected and that he won’t be home for another few days. You were disappointed but there was nothing you could do but wait for him to come home and hope he doesn't get called off to another case. Flipping aimlessly through the channels, you heard the lock to the front door click. Unsure as to who it could be, seeing that Spencer is still away for a few more days, all the possibilities started running through your mind. You froze, watching the door as the lock opened and the door flung open. 

Spencer stood there smiling at you “Surprise!” you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. “Christ Spence, you scared the fuck out of me” He laughed and walked in shutting the door behind him. He gave you a hug, picking you up and spinning you around. You giggled and made him put you down, you stepped back looking at him to make sure he didn't have any bruises or bumps anywhere. You took in his appearance, he was wearing the exact same outfit he had on the day he met you. The same baby pink shirt, the brown slacks, converses and even his glasses. You couldn't help but smile at him, he probably thought you were crazy for standing there just smiling at him. He looked down at himself “what is it? is something wrong?” “You were wearing that exact outfit the day we met” “I know, I found it in my bag and I thought I'd surprise you” Smiling, you kissed him, pulling him closer to you. 

You ended up on the couch, straddling Spencer and making out like horny teenager who hadn't seen each other for months. You tugged on his hair and he moaned into your mouth. He pulled off your sweater, smirking at you, you knew he had some naughty idea in his head. His hands grabbed your ass as he stood up and walked towards your bedroom. “Tell me doctor, what dirty idea is roaming your head right now?” Laughing, he dropped you on the bed “Just wait and see” You looked at him, he looked like he wanted this but you could tell his mind wasn’t fully there. “Spence, are you okay?” you sat up on the bed, looking at him. He was holding back a yawn “I’m fine babe” “are you sure-” he cut you off with a kiss. He got on top of you and made himself comfortable between your legs. He started kissing down your neck, sucking on your pulse point “mhm babe” your hands found their way to his hair. You felt him smile against your neck, he continued down to your chest. Barely touching your skin, he glanced up at you 

“please Spence” 

“please what ?” 

“touch me” 

Spencer came back up to kiss you and began to move down your neck again. Moving down again, he kissed down your belly to your thighs. Tugging your shorts down your legs. He looked up at you with hunger in his eyes, he kissed your thighs. After a while he stopped moving, you glanced down to see Spencer was asleep. Chuckling, you slid out from under him and rolled him onto his back. Unbuttoning his shirt, you slowly pulled it off and took off his glasses. “Baby, come back” “one second bubba” you turned around to put his shirt in the laundry and by time you got back, he was asleep. 

You got into bed and pulled the blanket over the both of you. Spencer rolled into your side and rested his head on your belly, nuzzling his head into you. You played with his hair as he cuddled you, a satisfied hum left his mouth. The love of your life was in your arms and you couldn’t be happier, you drifted to sleep, head full of happy thoughts. 

[redemptionbaby]

Make It Up| Arthur/Reader

Summary: Part 2 of A Favor

Pairing: Arthur/Reader

Wordcount: 1216

“She’ll be back soon, son, she’ll be back.”

“How’d ya mess up this time, lover boy? Maybe she needs a real man to treat ‘er right!”

“She’s probably fine, Arthur. Maybe she just needs some time alone?”

“What’re you worried about? She does this sorta thing all the time. Like you got any room to talk!”

‘All the time’.

All the time?

All the time!?

… Had he really paid so little attention? Was he so wrapped up in everyone else’s affairs and desires that he hadn’t noticed how often you were gone?

“She likes to go on these little sojourns from time to time. Truth be told, if she didn’t have you to come home to, I worry sometimes that she wouldn’t come back. But I have a feeling there’s trouble in paradise, isn’t there?”

Ouch, Hosea. Fucking ouch. As if Arthur didn’t feel bad enough about being such a shitty boyfriend. 

“Well, knowing her, you’ll only find her when she wants to be found. Awful squirrely, that one. Give her some time.”

Waiting was a lot worse than spending every waking hour looking. Arthur felt like an impotent fool, waiting, but he’d already exhausted himself beyond the threshold of being at all productive. Dutch even ordered him to take some time to himself, time to calm down. Dutch didn’t usually have to make orders like that, especially not with Arthur, and he didn’t like to either. 

It was only when Arthur was trying to empty his mind, deep in the Heartlands, that he saw you again. Camp set up at the edge of a forest a stone’s throw from a sizable stream. It had been nearly a week since that night in Saint Denis. The night where he messed up. You were in your underclothes, sat at the banks and shaded by trees, feet in the water while you fiddled in a journal. Your little cylinder of wax crayons lay in the sandy soil beside you. 

The outlaw watched you for a few moments, transfixed. Arthur really only knew how to draw from life, as he saw it, but you were different. He had always admired your ability to seemingly draw images from only your imagination, to alter reality as you saw it and run it through your own personal filter to make it uniquely yours. It was something you did with everything, really. Nothing he ever saw you do was wholly familiar. It was part of what drew him to you in the first place. He felt you had a sense of spontaneity and identity that he didn’t, and it fascinated him to no end. From the way you folded and packed your clothes to what you kept in your satchel bag, from how you did your hair to how you fought, it was all marvelous to him. 

You once told him, rather somberly, that the very strangeness he admired in you was one that had kept the attentions of men, and most everyone else, from you for most of your life. He had never really understood that, or why you had told him, not until very recently. 

You had been trying, in your own way, to tell him that you had been alone for a very long time. That you saw yourself as unwanted. Really, you were telling him to be careful with you. That you were inexperienced and afraid, and without confidence in this realm, the same realm where his reputation preceded him. 

In your own way, you had begged him to be gentle with you. And instead he felt as if he treated you as carelessly as a rag doll. 

You looked up from your ministrations, right at him. He could almost feel his horse try to rear at the intensity of your gaze. He looked at you, hoping to see the ire that he deserved, but he could not find any. Your eyes were hollow. Like two predators at a clearing, you both stared, waiting for a move to be made. Arthur moved first, dismounting. 

And you just returned to what you were doing. Not quite ignoring him, though it did sting just as bad, you just figured if he had something to say he’d say it with or without your visual attention. And for as much as Arthur thought about finding you, he hadn’t really thought about what he’d say once he did find you. Another slick fuckin’ move from the world’s best boyfriend. 

“Hey…”

“Hey.”

“I been lookin’ for ya. Ever since that night.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I’m sorry ‘bout what I said t’you.”

“Ok.”

Jesus Christ you were not gonna make this easy for him, were you? Not that he deserved it. No, he deserved to be worked like a racehorse. He cursed under his breath at his lack of speaking skills. Here, right before him, was probably the most important thing in his goddamn life. The person he damn well loved. Not often had Arthur actually wished to be a better spoken man, he’d seemed to do just fine without all them flowery words to help him get by, but that was back when all he ever thought he’d be doing was killing and robbing with the occasional lustful liaison in between. Right now, he’d trade just about all his skill with a revolver just for you to understand how he felt and how sorry he really was. 

“I’m sorry about more than that, though. And you deserve better’n the words I’m goin’ to give you.”

He could hear the scrape of wax against the paper slow dramatically. He had captured your attention. Hopefully that had been the hard part. He took a deep breath. 

“I ain’t been good to you. I sincerely regret that. I’ve been so wrapped up in other people’s problems that I wasn’t paying any attention t’you, and on top of that I got suckered into helping someone I know don’t really give a damn about me— not like you do.” He sighed. He felt stupid, undeserving, and inarticulate. But whether or not he deserved to be forgiven, you deserved to know that none of it was your fault. “Wouldn’t blame ya if you never wanted to see my face again. I did somethin’ awful. But if you’ll still have me, I’m willin’ t’do whatever it takes to make you look at me like you used to.”

The last part spilled out of his mouth in a way he was not expecting. 

Arthur Morgan was a sight, that much was for sure. Hair mussed, shirt wrinkled and dusty, bags beneath his eyes, his facial hair unkempt. One of the buttons on his shirt was even in the wrong hole. 

You figured he had suffered enough. 

You leaned into him in a way that made him flinch. The cowboy had fully expected some choice expletives from you, and to have to leave empty handed and broken hearted. You huffed a sigh. Arthur didn’t smell fresh, this occurred to the both of you at once as your cheek met his shoulder, but it wasn’t so bad. At least he smelled like him, which you liked. 

“Stay here for a few days.” 

“With you?” 

“With me.”

“And what’ll we be doin’, sweetheart?”

“You’ll be making it up to me.”

He could hardly wait. 

[cherryrogers]

➸ call me baby {3/3}

BROOKLYN

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | biker au

warnings: Swearing, smoking.

word count: 8k

synopsis: Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker. And when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either. That was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

series masterlist

a/n: jfc,,, i can’t believe i’ve finally finished writing this lmao i’m sorry it took so long my dudes. thank you to everyone who has shown support for this fic, and i hope you all enjoy the final part !!💛

“I’m going to miss having you around, _____. It’s been nice having another girl here who isn’t afraid to put a shitty customer in their place.” Wanda smiled, handing you a white envelope with your final salary enclosed inside.

Folding the envelope and tucking it into your jean pocket, you chuckled heartily. “I think you and your pistol will do just fine without me. Thanks for having me here for the summer, Wan. I wouldn’t even be leaving if it wasn’t for this job.”

Her grin widened as she pulled you into a warm hug. “There’ll always be a job here for you — summer, winter, any time you need it.”

After you’d said one final thanks and goodbye to Wanda, you exited the bar doors for the last time and crossed the sidewalk to where Peggy was waiting in her car for you. In a matter of hours, you’d be spending the night in Brooklyn one last time, and your summer would be over.

Initially, you were expecting a couple of months solely spent with your best friend. Lounging on shimmering sandy beaches, drinking wine and laughing till dusk in your backyard, listening to her harp on about her dreamy new boyfriend while you rambled about all the places you’d visited. You couldn’t have imagined it to be more different than it was. Sure, you had done all of that with Peggy, but she wasn’t the only one that’d shaped your summer. Following the motorcycle ride at five in the morning with a certain biker, you’d only grown more attached to each other. He couldn’t ever keep his hands off you, and you couldn’t ever bring yourself to leave the clubhouse after a day spent with him. If the rest of the club ever caught on to yours and Bucky’s affair, then they never mentioned it. You were sure that was because of Peggy. She knew it was better to leave you be, considering Bucky was the first person you’d opened your heart to in a long time.

Some days were spent simply in his bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of underwear under his silk sheets, constantly switching between telling one another about your lives, your childhoods, passions, fears, and stripping out of your little clothing and letting yourselves completely give into each other. Some days were spent wandering the streets of Brooklyn hand in hand, Bucky showing you all the alleys and parks he’d found Steve attempting to fight guys twice the size of him, you pointing out the diners and stores you used to drag Peggy to on the weekends in high school. Every day was spent getting to know one another though, and every day spent with Bucky was never a day wasted. The only down side to every moment your were with him was that they’d only add up to it hurting even more when you inevitably left, and that time was arriving very soon.

Peggy drove you home from the bar to collect your packed backpack and suitcase before bringing you down to the clubhouse for the rest of the night. She teased you about going soft since you’d gotten close to Bucky, wanting to spend your last night with your summer love as she called him. The girl received an unimpressed glare for the comment, but what she said wasn’t exactly untrue. If you’d told yourself a year ago that your summer in Brooklyn would find you all starry-eyed for a biker you’d only just met in June, you would’ve likely pushed aside any plan to return to the place at all. Peggy would forced your ass back to Brooklyn, of course; perhaps there would’ve always been something that led you back to your hometown, to him. Christ, you were getting soft.

There was a crease between your brows as you retrieved the envelope of cash from your pocket and gently ripped it open in your lap. It felt a little... thicker than it usually was — more than what you normally earned from a week’s worth of work. As your eyes met the wad of green bills inside, they widened in shock. Yep, definitely more than your usual salary. Way more to just be a mistake on Wanda’s part.

The large sum of cash even caught Peggy’s eye from her place in the driver’s seat. “Wanda must’ve really taken a liking to you. Perhaps doubling your salary is a plea to make you stay.”

A breathless laugh escaped your lips as you ran your thumb over the edges of the bills. “If it is, that girl knows exactly what she’s doing. Maybe travelling isn’t my true calling after all.”

While they was a playfulness to your tone, you couldn’t help but notice the brunette’s smile falter at your words. Peggy was like you in a way; she wasn’t soft, often being as upfront and stubborn as you were. However, she didn’t like opening up to people about herself all that much. Not that you were necessarily thriving in that department either, but when it came to Steve, she’d said it’d took her a while to even mention her brother’s passing to him. He hadn’t known she even had a brother before Peggy brought it up a long while after they’d began dating. Peggy possessed a lot of self confidence, and she had every right to do so. Being vulnerable and open just tended to put her at unease, and when you caught her acting a little off, it took some gentle coaxing to get her to open up.

“Are you okay?” You offered her a comforting smile, to which she didn’t quite return.

“Peachy,” She replied half-heartedly, hands tightening on the steering wheel. Glancing briefly at you, she spotted the crinkle in your brows and your pursed lips. Seeing as you never took your eyes off her, she sighed. “What is it?”

“Peggy, I don’t know how long it’s gonna be before I see you again. If something’s up, please tell me.”

Her tongue hesitantly ran across her bottom lip, fingers readjusting on the steering wheel. “It’s nothing, really. It’s just... I didn’t realise how much I’d missed having you here. I know it’s selfish, but I’d be lying if I said I was excited to see you off tomorrow.”

You shuffled in your seat, turning to face your friend more directly. “It’s not selfish, Pegs. Of course you don’t want me to go, I’m the shining light of your life—”

“_____...”

“Sorry, I know I’m annoying. Can’t help it,” You apologised, internally cursing yourself out. One serious conversation. You can have one serious conversation, come on. “I mean it, though; I don’t think it’s selfish. If you were jetting off to London tomorrow, I’d feel the same— oh, red light!”

The car came to an abrupt stop in front of the traffic lights, your seatbelt pressing tightly against you chest. Before you could reprimand your friend and tell her that putting you in hospital isn’t a viable way to stop you from leaving, she was turning to you with a surprised stare.

“You’re going to London? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I mean, I actually just made the decision five minutes ago, but yeah, I’m going to London.”

Peggy let out a disbelieving laugh. “You haven’t even booked your flight yet?”

“I didn’t even have the money to go an hour ago!” You exclaimed. “But with all this cash from Wanda, I think I’ll be able to make it there. I’ve been travelling the US for a year now, Pegs. I wanna go somewhere new. Somewhere fresh, the land of milky tea and buttery crumpets. I can go to the Queens house—”

“You have a lot of nerve saying all of this to someone who was born in England.” She glared softly, pressing her foot down on the gas when the green light appeared.

An amused smile crept onto your lips. “Hm, I will need someone to Facetime twenty four-seven to tell me all the places I need to visit, preferably English and born in London...”

“So you’ll talk to me solely because my nationality is of use to you?”

You rolled your eyes. “I might miss you a little bit too.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s hard being without you too, you know,” You spoke more seriously, catching Peggy slightly off guard. “Travelling is great and all, but some days I do wake up in my motel room and wish I was back home, spending the day with my best friend.”

While her eyes were still focused on the road, a warm smile was clearly pulling at the brunette’s lips. “Just... don’t stay away for too long this time, okay?”

“You’ll see me again before next summer, I promise.”

“Hm, I’m going to need that in writing.”

“I’ll even record a video for you; I’ll buy a tripod, get some good lighting, one of those fluffy microphones—”

Peggy cut you off with a hearty chuckle, dark, conditioned curls bouncing as she shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m actually going to miss your ability to make a joke out of everything.”

You scoffed, placing a hand on your chest in mock shock. “Christ, now that is something that needs to be in writing. I’m hiring us a lawyer, he can draw us both up contracts.”

“Dont forget to book your flight first.” Peggy chimed in.

“Right, I have a lot of things I need to do today. Bucky’s gonna have to give me a minute before he can have me to himself... and I’ll need to lend his computer.”

As your gaze averted to the passing by buildings out of the car window, Peggy grinned contentedly to herself. She could see exactly why you’d been the one Bucky had really fallen for, though she couldn’t help but wonder how he’d handle your departure to a whole other continent.

However, you’d promised you were coming back soon, and there wasn’t a doubt in Peggy’s mind that he’d be counting down the hours once you stepped onto your flight.

* * *

“London, huh?” Bucky’s voice caught your attention as he entered the office, a beer bottle in each hand.

As you confirmed the booking of your flight for the next morning, you swirled around in the cushioned desk chair, taking one of the bottles once the man had approached you. “Did Peggy spill the beans already?”

“Heard her talkin’ to Steve in the garage,” He pressed his own bottle to his lips, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Doesn’t seem like five minutes since you first arrived, when you came into the backyard in those little black and white shorts.”

Standing up, you shot him an eye roll. “I’m sure that’s all you can remember from that day, perv.”

“What do you remember then?”

You hummed, leaning into Bucky as you let his arms envelop your waist. “I remember wondering why everyone was wearing leather jackets in eighty degree weather. Oh, and that I thought you were a dick.”

The biker didn’t seem offended in the slightest at your statement, only grinning and pulling you closer. “Hm, and what about the day at the carnival? Wasn’t that a good day?”

“No, I had to endure you flirting with those girls in front of us in the drop tower line. I was almost sick before we even got on the ride.”

“Oh, that?” He let out a laugh, cheeks faintly tinting pink. “I was only trying to make you a little jealous. Seems like it worked.”

You scoffed. “It did not work,” It definitely had worked.

“You liked when I held your hand on the ride though, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“You know what? Fine. I did,” You admitted, eliciting a smug smile from Bucky. “But I’m only admitting that ‘cause I’m leaving tomorrow. Don’t think I’m going soft on you.”

He ran his tongue along his lower lip, leaning closer to speak against your lips. “Wouldn’t be stupid enough to dream of it.”

Smiling in satisfaction, you moved an inch closer and let his lips meet yours, a warm feeling emerging in your chest. The kiss remained gentle as your fingers pushed some of his hair away from his face, before you pulled back reluctantly to breathe. Blue eyes pierced into yours after fluttering open almost hazily.

“Would it be stupid to ask you to stay?” Bucky asked quietly, though he knew the answer already.

A weak nod and an empathetic smile; you pecked the corner of his lips before stepping back completely as if you suddenly felt you’d been standing too close. Bucky had never seen you holding your tongue, but that seemed to be what you were doing as you put some distance between the two of you.

There was an uncomfortable silence, the warmth from your body dissipated and replaced with an aching coldness. Perhaps telling yourself all summer that you could worry about yours and Bucky’s future at the end of August was a terribly bad idea, because now it was hitting you — maybe there’s wasn’t a future for the two of you at all.

“I’ll wait for you, you know.” The biker’s voice broke the quiet, the words slicing through you.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, Bucky. I don’t think I can ask you to do that.” You breathed, meeting his eyes hesitantly.

“You’re not asking me to, I want to,” He stated, worrying his teeth over his bottom lip. “Unless... that’s not what you really want?”

Truthfully, the idea of Bucky seeing anyone else once you’d left made your stomach turn. In an ideal world, you’d like it if he was just yours. Only yours, because you guaranteed that there wasn’t anybody else that could make you feel the way that he did. But you couldn’t force him to wait for a girl that strayed away from their hometown for longer than they stayed, no matter how much it’d end up hurting you.

“It wouldn’t be fair, Bucky, to either of us. We can’t really be together when I’m only gonna come back for the holidays—”

“Was this just a summer thing to you?” He questioned, a mix of regret and frustration flashing in his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t have asked that, but some part of him was oddly curious to.

Your previously calm expression turned sour as you furrowed your brows and scoffed. “You’re—you’re kidding, right? Did you just— of course it wasn’t just a summer thing to me, you asshole.”

Admittedly, it hurt that he’d even had the nerve to think that. You’d asked him if you shouldn’t have started something together that inevitably was going to end and he said he didn’t regret it. While being together could technically only last for the summer months, it wasn’t just a fling. There were feelings there that you weren’t going to be able to shake off, memories that were going to be carved into your mind forever. Did he seriously think that it was all just temporary on your part?

“Then would staying really be so bad?” Bucky retorted. What he was saying was only making you angrier, but he couldn’t help but be honest. Perhaps it just hadn’t hit him that you were really leaving in less than twenty four hours until that very moment, and everything that left him mouth was coming from a deep place of, well, sadness.

You shook your head in disbelief. “You’re being selfish.”

“Aren’t I allowed to be? We’ve spent a whole summer together and this time tomorrow you’re gonna be thousands of miles away from here—”

“And you don’t think I’ll be hurt either?” You intervened, cocking a brow. “You think I’ll be skipping through the airport utterly thrilled to be leaving you?”

Bucky was silent, too silent for too long. You scoffed, ignoring the way he was biting down in his cheek and the faint glossiness of his eyes in your annoyance. “You knew I was gonna have to leave eventually, Bucky. If you knew weren’t going to be able to accept that... then you never should’ve asked me to stay that night.”

That night; no further explanation was needed to identify which of the many nights spent together you were talking about. It was that night when you fell inexplicably hard for Bucky, when you decided that you might never have the chance to fall in the way you’d fallen for him ever again and that you’d only regret not staying the night. Not letting him strip you of your clothes and shed his own, not letting him make love to you, not letting him wake up to you admiring his every feature. If he knew he wouldn’t be able to let you go so easily, then having you stay that night was purely unwise of him.

When Bucky didn’t you respond one again after a few moments, you sighed deeply, crossing your arms over your chest. Though your expression had softened, your tone was still rather cold. “It’s never been just a fling with you, and if after all the damn time we’ve been spending together you thought there was a chance I might’ve thought that, then maybe you don’t feel the way I thought you felt about me at all.”

The biker’s features fell as he watched you chew your bottom lip and stalk towards the door — doubting his feelings for you was the last thing he wanted you to do. He let his boot collide with the bottom of his desk in frustration as you shut the office door behind you.

He hadn’t meant to start a dispute. It was your last god damn night in Brooklyn, of course he didn’t want to spend it receiving the cold shoulder from you. You’d probably gone out and found the rest of the guys, perhaps even went to drag Peggy aside to tell her how much of a dick he’d just been, which he’d understand. He had a feeling you wouldn’t do that though; instead you’d go out and pretend everything was fine because you wouldn’t dare let anyone know that he’d managed to hurt your feelings — always so stubborn.

Relationships were not Bucky’s forte. It’s not like he’d ever been looking for one; he was still young, he had still wanted to have fun for a little while before finally settling down like his mother had been bugging him to since he’d moved out. While he wasn’t the type to sleep with a girl and never call them again, he wasn’t exactly the type to, well... sleep with a girl and do anything else with them. He hated the talking stages of a relationship, despised them with all his being. Everyone he knew insisted that he had to get through them to actually have a deeper relationship with someone, but he really just couldn’t will himself to do it. So when there didn’t seem to be a weird talking stage with you, he was pretty happy about it.

It wasn’t like he was forcing himself to try and develop a connection with you, he’d hardly been interested in dating anyone when you’d first arrived. But then it all happened so naturally and now look at the two of you — well, you were mad at him and he was standing in the office alone like an idiot.

He knew better than to follow you outside and try to play friendly with you in front of everyone else. Giving you and himself a bit of time to cool off and think, Bucky took a shower upstairs in his bathroom. The longer the hot water pelted his skin, the more he felt like an asshole for what he’d said to you. He couldn’t just ask you to stay for him, that was wrong for a start. That was definitely selfish. Accusing you of thinking it was just a fling too? Christ, what was he thinking? He didn’t actually think that you thought of him as a fling, he just stupidly asked that in the heat of the moment when he was frustrated that you one hundred percent didn’t want to stay.

Maybe he ought to get out of the shower before he steamed up the whole clubhouse and make things right.

As Bucky neared the bottom of the staircase after putting on some clothes and towel-drying his hair, he bumped into Steve, who seemed to be heading towards the living room.

“Hey, Buck. We’re starting a movie soon. _____’s just finishin’ her cigarette out back; you two joining us?”

Bucky plastered on a smile, shaking his head. Perhaps he sounded selfish, but watching a movie with everyone wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to spend his last night with you. “I don’t think so, man. Another night.”

“Suit yourself.” The blond patted his friend’s shoulder before allowing him to scoot past him and head outside.

The sky was a deep blue, the sparse, grey clouds almost bleeding into the dark hue as the stars began to peek through the dusky blanket. A single garden lamp lit up the area, just about showing your figure sitting on the picnic bench that’d never been replaced since they’d moved into the clubhouse. Between your parted lips rested the remains of a cigarette, smoke twirling through the slight breeze that’d picked up once the sun went down.

You didn’t flinch as Bucky slid onto the bench next to you, and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to when the two of you had met. At that time, he was sat in your spot exhaling clouds of smoke, not knowing who you were when you first walked outside. Fast forward to now and you were exactly where he was all those weeks ago, except now he wasn’t sure what he was going to do without you.

“You mind if I take a drag of that?” He spoke up suddenly, suppressing a smile at the way you paused in your actions.

While you didn’t offer him the stick between your fingers, your loosened grip on it silently gave Bucky the permission to pluck it out of your hand into his own, which he did. After taking a long drag of the cigarette, he stubbed it out on the ashtray to his right before turning his attention to you.

“I know we aren’t a summer fling to you. I- I know how you feel about me, because I feel the same way.”

Bucky felt himself relax a little as you faced him, no longer staring off into the night. A slight frown pulled at your lips; he didn’t like the sight. “If I was going to stay for anything, or anyone, it’d be you, you know.”

Not sure what to say, the biker only gave you a nod of acknowledgment, taken aback by the statement. He wasn’t sure whether it was a compliment or something he shouldn’t be happy with.

“There’s a difference between me wanting to stay and wanting to be with you,” You bit down on your bottom lip. “I don’t wanna stay, but if you asked me... if you asked me to stay again to be with you, I probably wouldn’t get on my flight tomorrow.”

Breath hitching, Bucky narrowed his eyes. “You’d stay if I asked you to again?”

The look in your eyes was enough of an answer. If he asked you to stay, you’d say yes. Yes to waking up beside him during the colder fall mornings. Yes to motorcycle rides to anywhere and everywhere. Yes to never having to worry about how much time you have left together, because you’d stayed; you weren’t leaving Brooklyn anymore.

Saying yes to that however, would mean saying goodbye London, to travelling. Exploring different cultures, trying new food, experiencing a part of the world you never thought you could reach as a child. No more reading in motel rooms until midnight. No more tours around cities with a camera wrapped around your neck. No more living the life you’d been dreaming of since you’d barely started middle school — you weren’t ready to let go of that just yet, and Bucky didn’t have to read your mind to know that.

“I’m not gonna ask you to stay again,” He declared, prompting you to raise a brow. “I’m not gonna be a jackass and make you stay if that’s not what you wanna do.”

To his joy, your frown slowly curled into a soft smile. “I know your heart’s in the right place, Buck. That you weren’t trying to start an argument. And— and I can’t stop you from waiting for me if that’s what you wanna do. I’ll be back at some point, but I just don’t want you to put your life on hold for me, you know?”

“I wouldn’t be puttin’ it on hold. I wasn’t planning on finding someone I— I liked so much ever, really. I don’t know if it’ll happen again,”

Your heart — it was going to explode. Who knew you’d ever meet someone that had the power to make you feel so... disgustingly lovesick.

“...unless you happen to take a liking to a London boy while you’re there...?”

You chuckled, a warm sound amid the cool night. “London, Paris, Berlin... none of those boys will ever come close to the one I have in Brooklyn.”

A wide grin spread across the biker’s lips. “Who’s the sap now, huh?”

With a playful eye roll, you couldn’t help but place your hand on Bucky’s jaw, caressing it with your thumb as you leaned in and captured his lips.

He reacted immediately, putting a hand on your outer thigh to pull you closer to his side.

Wherever you were in the world, you’d always have Bucky in Brooklyn — he hoped that you didn’t doubt that.

* * *

Too many mornings spent lazing in Bucky’s bed meant that reality hadn’t yet set in after a few minutes of being awake. It was so natural at this point, to wake up and feel the warmth of him next to you, to have your legs tangled with his and to feel his nose grazing against the back of your neck.

Turning around in his arms, you leaned in and laid a kiss on his nose, smirking at the way he scrunched it in response before pinching at your bare hip. You smacked his hand away before settling your head back against the pillow, gazing at him through your lashes.

“Have I ever told you beautiful you are?” You asked without a second thought.

Heat evidently pooled in Bucky’s cheeks, and you rested a hand on the side of his face before he could roll himself over to hide his embarrassment.

“I’m serious.” You pressed.

“I know,” He grinned, voice raspy with sleep; he knew you never lied to him, you were as honest as they got. “And no, you haven’t told me.”

“Well, now I have. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

“Shut up.”

“Never.”

Bucky sighed, tracing a hand down the curve of your back. He could keep you there forever, laying so close to him and calling him beautiful. If someone would’ve told him at the start of the summer that this was where he’d be by the end of it, he would’ve laughed in their face. “Where’d that come from, huh? You’re being scarily nice.”

“I’m trying to be sentimental, jerk.”

“Oh, right,” He smirked. “Just like last night when you told me to fuck—”

You interrupted him with a finger pressed to his lips. “I think that was pretty sentimental in its own way, actually.”

“Uh-huh,” Bucky kissed your fingertip gently. He had a feeling you were being a little softer than usual since the circumstances of the day were different. You weren’t sure when your next moment like this would be, if there ever would be one. Truthfully, there was an ache in his heart that was caused by that thought too. He sighed, almost sadly. “What time’s your flight?”

“Eleven.”

“Well, I think that leaves us enough time for me to show you how beautiful I think you are...” He trailed his hand lower down your spine and followed the curve of your ass.

You smirked, glancing over your shoulder to the small clock sat on the bedside table. It was nearly nine. There was just over an hour until you had to be at the airport...

“Thirty minutes, then we have to get up. Peggy will be up and banging on the door for us otherwise.”

“More than enough time, baby.”

That was a lie, however. It wasn’t nearly enough time, because once the two of you finally pried yourselves out from underneath the sheets, it hit you that that was the last time in a long time that you’d wake up in Bucky’s bed. The last time you’d be able to have him so close to you. It made you wonder what life would’ve been like if you met him before you first left to travel. If you’d fallen for him that hard so long ago, would you even have left Brooklyn in the first place?

You both took your time getting dressed, you tossing on a tank top and some leggings from your packed suitcase while Bucky put on his signature biker attire. He smugly asked if he could keep a pair of your underwear as a memoir; you told him to go fuck himself before planting a kiss on his lips. It was amazing how quickly he could switch between acting like a dick and being a sweetheart. You’d miss that, admittedly.

Everyone was eating breakfast in the kitchen when the two of you made it downstairs, the sound of your suitcase thumping against the steps signalling your presence. It was rare that you and Bucky ever saw the morning outside of his bedroom in the clubhouse, and that was proved by the raised brows and mock gasps you recieved when you entered into the room. You rested the suitcase against the doorframe as Bucky strided towards the counter, clearly eyeing the half-full pack of cigarettes placed on there.

As he reached for them, Steve looked up from his bacon and eggs, a frown pulling at his lips. “Hey, you can’t just smoke and call it breakfast.”

“I haven’t had breakfast for months,” The brunet snorted. “Don’t think it matters that much.”

“Have some coffee at least?” Steve pushed.

Cocking his brow, Bucky glanced over to you in hope of you having his back. It wasn’t like you’d had breakfast since before summer either, but you weren’t going to let the guy smoke for breakfast. Not when everyone else had a hot meal and the scent alone was making your mouth water.

“How about we get something at the airport?” You offered, strolling over to the seat next to Peggy and sitting down.

“You’re not going the airport so soon, are you?” She asked, sipping her coffee.

“Well, my flight leaves in two hours—”

The brunette almost choked on her coffee, prompting Steve to gently pat her back as she recovered. “Two hours? Oh my— why are you sitting down? We need to go—”

“Would you calm down?” You chuckled, placing a hand on Peggy’s forearm as she started to rise from her seat. She was right, though. You were cutting it very short by still being at the clubhouse when you wanted to grab some breakfast too. You moved your gaze to Bucky. “I mean, maybe we should go now...”

While he looked reluctant to nod, Bucky did so anyway, grabbing the keys to his motorcycle from his designated hook on the the wall next to the light switch.

“Hey genius, how am I gonna put my suitcase on your bike?” You furrowed your brows, grinning as the realisation hit him.

“Uh...”

“Bucky can take you on his bike,” The blond perked up, standing next to his girlfriend. “Peg and I can take the jeep with your suitcase.”

Looking to your best friend for permission, you smiled when she gave you a sure nod. She knew how much it would mean to you if your were able to ride with Bucky one more time. “Go on, we’ll be right behind you.”

After thanking her, you grabbed your suitcase and said your goodbyes to those sitting around the table. Though you didn’t speak to them as much as you’d wished you had, you’d still miss them. You all shared the same sense of humour, having a laugh with them was easy when you spent the day with the group, even when you were all simply lazing around the clubhouse. You gave each of them a quick hug, rolling your eyes when Clint told you to ‘have a right good time in London’ with a horrible English accent.

Bucky lead you out of the house, handing you a helmet and kissing the crown of your head quickly before climbing onto the bike. He didn’t say anything as you got on behind him, enveloping his waist and comfortably setting your chin on his shoulder. With every passing moment, you could tell that he wasn’t looking forward to finally waving you off at the airport. Usually when he was getting grumpy, you’d make a stupid comment about it and it seemed to cheer him up; it didn’t feel right to do so in this instance.

So as the the bike roared to life, you turned to look at the clubhouse. The place where you’d spent the majority of your summer, where you’d met everyone, where you’d met Bucky, where you’d kissed him for the first time, done other things for the first time. It’d become another home to you in a way, like a place you’d always be welcome back to. You hoped you’d always be welcome there anyway, even after being gone for months on end once you stepped onto your flight.

It’d barely taken thirty minutes to get to JFK Airport, Peggy’s jeep only a few cars behind you as you wound through the streets of New York. Bucky noticed when you didn’t start cussing out the bad drivers that were practically skimming the side of his bike like always, your head never leaving its place against his back. It was unlike you, but he didn’t mind. Perhaps like him you were just savouring the moment, the last ride you’d have for a while. Christ, Bucky had never felt so many emotions at once. He didn’t know whether to fall to his knees and beg you not to forget him or to kiss you passionately and tell you he’d be waiting for your return. To maintain his dignity, he decided against the former option.

Almost too fast for your liking, you arrived just outside of the entrance, climbing off the motorcycle reluctantly and spying the jeep just coming to park behind you. It wouldn’t be able to stay parked there for long, and you felt an ache in your chest as you saw Peggy stepping out of her car, Steve not far behind her pulling your suitcase along.

He handed it to you with a smile which you returned as you took it from him. Setting it beside you, you let out a sad chuckle upon realising how glazed over Peggy’s eyes were.

“I’m not about to cry, before you say anything,” She stated, plastering on a grin. “It’s just allergies.”

“Allergies my ass,” You smirked, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around her neck, grinning into her shoulder as she hugged you back tightly. You spoke again, this time more quietly next to her ear. “I love you, okay? And I won’t hesitate to fly back here and beat Steve’s ass if he does anything, I swear.”

Truthfully, you didn’t think Steve was capable of hurting a fly, never mind the smartest, kindest, most gorgeous woman you knew. However, Jay-Z was capable of cheating on Beyoncé — Beyoncé, so being a little sceptical of any man you met wasn’t unreasonable, in your opinion.

“I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” She chuckled. “You just focus on looking after yourself, alright?”

“Right,” You responded. “And... you’ll keep an eye on Bucky for me, won’t you?”

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Bucky, or that you wanted a daily report of what he was up to while you were gone. You just wanted to know that he was going to be okay. Being apart would be hard on both of you, but you’d been doing the ‘being alone’ thing for over a year now, and you had a feeling that there was more to how he felt about you leaving than he was letting on. Even when he said he wasn’t going to ask you to stay again, you still felt like he wasn’t as okay with the situation as he was acting to be.

“Of course I will, Steve too,” The brunette assured you, giving you a final squeeze before beginning to pull back. “I love you too,” She sighed, returning to her place stood next to Steve. “Right, you know where you’re going after you arrive, yes? If not, you can call me and I’ll give you directions to the motel. If you’re hungry I know there’s a takeaway place just outside of the airport—”

“Pegs, I’ll be fine. I’m going to London, not Narnia.”

“Just— just be safe, okay?”

“Can’t make any promises.”

“_____—”

“I’m kidding! How about you learn to take a joke while I’m gone, huh?”

You smiled as Peggy rolled her eyes in amusement. Perhaps she wouldn’t be as amused if she knew about what happened with Brock Rumlow at the bar. You decided you’d tell her in London when you were in a whole other continent, otherwise she might not have let you leave in fear that you’d be getting into more trouble at English bars with assholes like Brock. Even if you did, Peggy knew you weren’t soft, you could handle yourself. She just worried that you were a little too unafraid of confrontation.

Turning to Bucky and picking your suitcase back up, you have him a slight tug on his hand. “We should probably go for breakfast now, I’ll be boarding soon.”

He nodded, offering to take your suitcase and rolling his eyes when you made a comment about him being ‘such a gentlemen’. You gave the blond a quick hug, warning him to take care of Peggy and grinning as he teased you about being more like her mother than her best friend, before saying a final goodbye to the two of them, giving your friend’s hand a final squeeze and turning away to head into the airport.

There was just over an hour until you had to be on the plane, so you and Bucky decided to head into cafe near the entrance and get a proper breakfast. Two steaming black coffees sat opposite each other on the small booth in the corner you were sat at, complimenting the stacks of pancakes dripping in syrup and sugar that you’d impulsively ordered and that Bucky had insisted on paying for, saying that you should save all your cash for exploring London.

“I’ll probably come back for Christmas.” You said in repsonse to him asking how long you’d be travelling for this time, stuffing a sliced bit of pancake into your mouth.

Bucky furrowed his brows. “Really? You’re not staying away until summer again?”

You cocked your brow, looking at him in the corner of your eye. “Why, do you want me to?”

“Course not,” He smirked, reaching out to swipe a drop of syrup from your lip with his thumb. “I hope that means you’re getting me a Christmas present then.”

A chuckle left your lips. “My return will be your Christmas present, how about that?”

The biker scoffed. “Okay... getting to kiss me when you get back will be your present then.”

“Eh... can’t you think of something better?”

He glared at you playfully, though you felt a little bad making the joke. You knew from the argument the night before that he wasn’t still one hundred percent okay with you leaving. Comfortingly, you placed a hand above his knee over his dark jeans.

“In all seriousness, though— I shouldn’t have told you not to wait for me to come back. If that’s what you really want, I can’t stop you from waiting for me. In fact, just seeing you again will be the best thing I’ll get on Christmas; I know it. Well, unless someone gets me some rollerblades. I always wanted them as a kid but my mom refused since I have issues with ‘being careful’—”

Bucky’s laugh cut you off, rolling his eyes at your attempt at covering up your sappy words with sarcasm. He could definitely understand why you never got rollerskates, however — you did have a tendency to be a little reckless. God knows what you were like as a kid.

“I’d have to agree with her on that one,” He smiled, sipping his coffee. “You have been punched in the face more times than the average person. You never told me about the other time you got punched, actually.”

A chuckle fell from your lips. “You remember me mentioning that?”

“Uh-huh.”

You sighed melodramatically. “I guess we have some time to kill — fine. So I was, surprise-surprise, in some random bar in Chicago...”

The hour you had left before your flight finished soon after you’d told Bucky enough stories from your travels to last him in your absence, and before you knew it, you’d reached the flight terminal.

There was an invisible force tugging at your heartstrings. While you were bubbling with excitement to get on your flight, to explore a whole new place outside of what you’ve always known, you hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to leave what you did know behind. The thought of depending on somebody else, allowing yourself to let their feelings come into play with your decisions, had practically disgusted you only a few months ago. But with Bucky, it only felt wrong to cast his feelings aside.

The biker noticed the change in your demeanour as you neared the terminal, and a smile crept onto his lips. “C’mon, _____ — don’t tell me you’re gonna pussy out on leaving now.”

“Shut up,” You scoffed, elbowing his ribs. “I’m just... thinking.”

“About what?”

It took you a moment to come up with an answer. “About how everything has changed, and how everything is going to keep changing.”

You turned to look at Bucky, whose brows were furrowed. The corners of your lips upturned. “Bucky, nothing in my life is consistent. I’ve always liked travelling because where I am changes all the time, and I never feel stuck anywhere; I always feel free. And with you, I don’t feel stuck either. I want you to be a constant in my life, no matter where I am in the world or whatever else changes in it. I always wanted to get out of Brooklyn ‘cause it never felt like where I was supposed to be forever, but now I know that you’re here... well, maybe Brooklyn is where I’m supposed to end up...”

“...and I swear to God if you call me a sap for that—”

To your delight, you’re not teased for the most heartfelt thing you’d ever said to him, or anyone for that matter, but cut off with a intense kiss. Savouring the feeling, you placed a hand on the back of Bucky’s neck, letting yourself melt into him for one last time that summer. You’d found that Bucky wasn’t necessarily vocal in expressing his feelings, but that didn’t matter. The way he kissed you said more than a thousand words ever could.

After reluctantly pulling away from the kiss, Bucky didn’t let you go just yet. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you to his chest, an affectionate action that he didn’t necessarily do so often. Nevertheless, you leaned into him and let your arms encircle his waist, your cheek resting comfortably against his shoulder. This wasn’t the last time you’d be so close to him, you had to keep reminding yourself of that. But you’d never felt so hesitant to leave someone behind since you’d left Peggy the first time you left New York. You found your way back to her, though, and you were sure you’d do the same with Bucky.

“On second thought, I’d be fine if you pussied out of leaving now...” He spoke into your ear, making you chuckle against his chest.

“I’m no wuss, Bucky Barnes,” You moved back from his embrace, patting his jacket. “You’ll see me again soon, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

The feminine voice over the intercom informing you that your direct flight to London was departing soon cut your final moments with Bucky short, enabling the both of you to let out a disheartened sigh.

You leaned forward once more, pressing a soft but fleeting kiss to his lips, before giving his hand a squeeze. “Stay out of trouble, will you? At least until I get back?”

“I think I should be the one tellin’ you that,” Bucky laughed, his eyes taking in the curve of your nose and your cheekbones, the colour of your eyes and the softness of your lips; the features he’d had the luxury of waking up to every day for the past two months. Not that he could ever forget how beautiful you are, but he’d be a fool not to take advantage of looking at you properly in the flesh for the last time for a while. “Running away from a fight isn’t a bad thing, you know.”

“Practise what you preach, pal — does that mean you won’t be socking Brock Rumlow in the face next time you run into him?”

“...touché.”

A grin graced your lips as you clasped your fingers around the handle of your suitcase. “Mhm, that’s what I thought. Now, I’ve gotta get going. There might be a fight waiting for me on the plane already — a forty-five year old lady named ‘Karen’ that’s upset she didn’t get the window seat, perhaps?”

“Well, I can’t keep you waiting, can I?” Bucky stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, watching as you began to walk in the opposite direction to him, the opposite direction to the summer you’d forever hold dear to your heart.

The smile on your face widened, your last words to him falling from your lips before you turned around and headed towards the next part of your journey, which would eventually, hopefully, lead you back to him in the end.

“I’ll see you when I’m back home.”

Home. Where you belonged. Where you’d circle back to when you’d travelled across the world and back. With him, in Brooklyn.

“See you when you’re back home, baby.”

There was a time when you didn’t believe in love. When you thought that those who did were only fooling themselves, and when you once told your best friend that you’d never fall in love. Maybe you’d proved yourself wrong with Bucky.

The reason you’d always told yourself that love wasn’t real was because you never knew what it was, how it felt. However, if it felt like gliding through a sunlit sky with all the time in the world to spare, with all the space around you to explore; if it felt like finding home in more than just four walls and a roof, but in two bright blue eyes and a soul just as carefree as yours (...and a worn out leather jacket...), then maybe you had fallen in love with Bucky.

Perhaps when you returned home, you’d let him know.

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