#don’t know who’s responsible for the mess part 2 was

[mine-fujiko]

As for the style of the character design I’m under the impression that the manga Shin Lupin and the anime part 2 influenced each other. The manga was released during the airing of part 2, meaning between 1977 and 1980/81.

It’s obvious both the manga and part 2 went into a different style for the characters. Apart from the fact that a huge portion of part 2 was, can I say it? just badly drawn and even worse animated to the point that some panels don’t even seem to have reached the final stage of a drawing but looked like the first raw sketches were directly sent to print, (either they were under pressure and had to go with quantity in place of quality or I have to believe a deliberate bad job in order to obtain… what?) see the difference between the first bunch of episodes up until 100 ca and the better quality from there on, not to mention when A Production aka Miyazaki and co. returned and gave us those final episodes that were masterpieces if compared to the previous episodes and the characters regained their normal look.

As I was saying though it looked like part 2 had an influence on Monkey Punch’s style as well. I’m not sure I actually prefer Shin Lupin to the first series, talking stylewise not storywise.

[littlelamy]

boat scene with rafe

requested by @gibson-g1rl l <3 😘 part 2

credits: oysters png from @saizun , and amazing gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs

The boat rocks beneath you as you step toward where Rafe sits bound against the wall, looking both furious and oddly vulnerable. You catch his eye as you enter the room, holding a small packet of aspirin and a plate of food. His eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, but his cocky smirk returns almost immediately.

“Look who’s here to take care of me,” he drawls, his voice dripping with that familiar teasing tone, though there’s a flicker of genuine relief in his eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to your words. You set the plate down next to him and hand over the aspirin, glancing away to avoid letting him see the small, reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “Thought you’d need this. Can’t have you passing out on us.”

Rafe takes the aspirin from your hand, holding your gaze just a little too long before he swallows it dry. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting room service,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving yours. “Didn’t know you cared this much.”

You scoff, folding your arms. “You should know by now I don’t want you dead, Rafe,” you say with a wry smile. “But don’t expect this to become a habit.”

He chuckles, the sound low and a little smug. “We’ll see about that,” he says, shifting against the ropes, clearly enjoying the attention. He nods toward the plate. “So, what—are you gonna feed me, too?”

You blink, taken aback by his nerve, and then raise an eyebrow, letting sarcasm color your voice. “Would you like me to? Or do you think you can manage?” You narrow your eyes, daring him to keep pushing.

Rafe’s smirk wavers, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink as he quickly looks away. “I can handle it,” he mutters, clearly flustered but trying to play it off. “Don’t get carried away.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning to.” But you can’t help the grin tugging at your lips as you settle back, watching as he tries to pick up a piece of food from the plate with an awkward, fumbling grip, struggling against the restraints.

You stifle a laugh as he tries to eat without making a mess, and he catches you smiling, his jaw tightening. “Something funny?” he snaps, though there’s a hint of embarrassment in his tone.

You shrug, biting back your amusement. “Nothing at all. You look perfectly in control.”

Rafe grumbles under his breath, focusing intently on his food to avoid meeting your eyes. Another wave rocks the boat, causing you to steady yourself against the wall, and you look back to find him watching you, something almost like concern flickering in his gaze.

“Be careful,” he mutters, his voice softer, dropping the bravado for a split second.

For a moment, you just look at each other, the storm outside and the chaos around you fading into the background. His cocky expression softens, and he gives you a small, grateful nod. He won’t say it, but you know he’s thankful.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering on you a beat longer.

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, crossing your arms as you lean back against the wall. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

Rafe grins, his cockiness slipping back into place, but now it’s warmer, less of a wall and more like something shared just between the two of you. As he reaches for another bite, he murmurs, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” And as much as you try to resist, you can’t help the small, reluctant smile that crosses your face in response.

The storm hits hard, the boat rocking violently beneath your feet. You’re barely able to keep your balance as you make your way through the narrow, dimly lit hallway. Waves crash against the hull, each one sending a jolt of panic through your body. But there’s something else clawing at you—something that won’t let you ignore the sound of Rafe’s voice, sharp and desperate, calling from another room.

“Come on! Cut me loose!” His voice cracks, the desperation in it too raw to ignore.

You freeze, breath catching in your throat. Rafe. He’s still tied up. The ropes are holding him in place as the boat teeters precariously on the brink of capsizing. You can hear Pope and Cleo yelling from the kitchen, their voices overlapping, trying to convince you to leave it alone. To save yourself. But you can’t. Not this time.

You grip the knife tighter, your fingers cold and trembling from the anxiety rising in your chest. There’s no time to think. Rafe’s call keeps echoing in your head, and that voice—the urgency, the fear—pushes you forward. You make your way toward the room where you heard him last, the sound of the storm growing louder as it pounds against the sides of the boat.

Before you even get to the door, Cleo’s voice rings out. “No! Y/N, No!”

Pope’s voice follows, sharper. “Y/N, stop don’t let him out!”

But you keep moving. You don’t stop. You can’t. There’s no way you’re going to let Rafe stay there, helpless and bound, when you can do something about it.

When you reach the door, you shove it open, and the sight of Rafe tied up against the far wall hits you with a jolt. He’s slumped slightly, sweat slicking his forehead, his face drawn with exhaustion and frustration. His eyes snap to you, and for a split second, they soften with something almost like relief.

“Cut me loose, come on!” He says again, his voice strained, but louder this time, more insistent.

His hands are bound tightly in thick ropes, his legs spread out uncomfortably beneath him. The ropes seem too thick for him to break on his own. You can see the tension in his body, the way his muscles twitch from the strain, and the panic that flickers behind his gaze. There’s no time to waste. You don’t think twice. You crouch in front of him, the knife in your hand glinting in the low light.

Rafe watches you, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “Don’t make me regret this,” you murmur, feeling your heart beat faster as you cut into the thick rope that’s holding him in place. Your hands are shaking, the knife slipping slightly as the boat tilts again, but you focus on the task at hand.

“Come on, hurry up.” His words are clipped, desperate, and you push aside the nervous tightness in your chest as you work faster, cutting the ropes.

You’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, a stark contrast to the cold, wet air from the storm. The boat groans as another wave slams against it, and Rafe’s eyes flicker to the window, then back to you.

“Please,” he breathes, and it’s that one word that makes everything else fade away—the roaring storm, the panicked shouting from the others, the ticking clock of time slipping away.

The last thread gives way with a sharp cut, and Rafe’s hands are free. His arms immediately reach for you, grabbing hold of your wrist with a surprising amount of force, pulling himself upright.

“Thanks,” he mutters, his voice rough, but there’s something deeper in it, something like a sense of vulnerability you’ve never seen from him before.

You don’t have time to say anything, to wonder if he’s really thankful or if he’s just grateful to be free. The boat shudders violently, and you both stumble as the hull groans beneath you. The wind howls outside, whipping against the windows, and you know there’s not much time before things get worse.

Rafe doesn’t wait for an invitation. He grabs your arm, pulling you toward the narrow hallway. “We need to get to somewhere safer,” he says, his tone not leaving any room for an argument.

You’re both moving quickly, though the boat keeps pitching wildly. The wind screeches, and water sloshes against the floorboards. Every step feels like a risk, like the boat could capsize at any moment. But Rafe doesn’t let go of your arm. He pulls you behind him, guiding you toward a small corner near the engine room, the only place that might offer even the slightest bit of shelter.

You slide into the corner, pressing yourself against the cold wall. It’s not the safest place, but in the madness of the storm, it’s all you have. Rafe follows, wedging himself beside you. There’s barely enough room for the two of you, but you don’t mind. You’re not focused on that right now. All you can think about is how the boat is rocking, how you’re both on the brink of disaster, and how Rafe’s body is so close to yours.

He leans into you, his breathing ragged and uneven. For a moment, he pulls away, but then his hand is at your waist, his grip tightening. It’s almost like he’s afraid you might slip away from him. He presses his body closer, his face now inches from yours, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart.

Rafe places his head on your neck, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder. The warmth of his breath on your skin is both comforting and unsettling, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you place your hand on his back, the pressure of your touch grounding both of you as the storm rages on around you.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to reassure him or yourself.

Rafe doesn’t respond, but you feel his muscles relax, his tense body unwinding little by little. He’s not just holding onto you for stability; it feels like he’s holding onto you for something more. You can’t explain it, but there’s something in the way he leans into you, something raw and vulnerable that you’ve never seen before.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln

[vangelini]

Boyfriend For the Night | Spencer Reid x Reader

Part 2, Finale!!

Summary: During a night out with the team, you and Spencer find yourselves together at the bar. So, when a creep tries to pick you up, he tries his best to defend his best friend (by being MORE than just that…)

Tags: fluff, pining idiots, BAU!Reader, Fem!Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption 🤷‍♀️

Words: 1.4k

|

It was often, after difficult cases, someone on the team would shout out a suggestion of “what’s everyone doing tonight?” or “anyone wanna go get some drinks?” This time, it just so happened to be Penelope.

“Come on, you know it’ll be fun,” she pleaded to the boy genius packing up in the bullpen.

“I don’t know, Garcia. I’m not sure how much fun I’ll be,” Spencer gave a tight-lipped smile, putting another file in his over-the-shoulder bag.

“Pretty Boy, you’re plenty of fun,” Morgan jested, one arm around Garcia. “Plus, I think Pretty Girl is going, too,” he smiled.

Spencer knew that was your nickname, given affectionately by Derek. He mulled over it in his mind. At least, if you were there, he might have someone to talk to about common interests. You were, after all, the only one on the team that could follow along with his ranting, taking the chance to blab about your own latest interests, as well. “Fine, I’ll go,” he came to the conclusion that hanging out with team would probably be more exciting than rereading a scientific journal to the soothing sounds of Vivaldi. Plus, he would get to see you outside of work.

“Yay!” Penelope clapped her hands together, her blonde pigtails bouncing. “This’ll be so much fun!” She grabbed Morgan’s hand and started walking out of the bullpen. “See you guys there!”

—

You spotted him as soon as he walked in, grinning wide with a small wave.

“Spencer!!”

He laughed, waving back, in response. He scooted in next to you in the tight booth, his leg hitting yours. “What did I miss?” He asked, smiling at the team.

“Just hearing about Emily’s worst dates,” you smiled up at him, elbows on the table.

“Captivating,” he joked, a little stiff from the close proximity between the two of you. Spencer couldn’t deny that he was attracted to you. Well, he could, and he has been, ever since he met you. Sure, it earned him some teasing from the team, but you weren’t free from it either. ‘That’s just what happens when a man and woman are friends,’ he rationalized. But your relationship was closer than just friends. (Best friends?) It was hard to ignore the way you turned to him, when in a group, or how you always lit up when someone mentioned his name. And if Spencer was trying to hide how big his smile got when he got to rant to you about his favorite subject, or how much you two laughed about who-knows-what in the bullpen when the team wasn’t around, he wasn’t doing a very good job. And he certainly wasn’t doing a good job now, trying to keep his composure as you giggled next to him, as the conversation went on.

“Well, I’m getting another drink,” you spoke between a laugh. “Spencer, you wanna come with?” He looked up at you, standing with your purse over your shoulder.

“Sure,” he smiled, following you out of the booth and to the bar.

“I’ll have…” you leaned against the bar, tapping your chin in thought. “Whiskey and coke, please,” the bartender nodded. “Spence, you want anything,” he looked down at you, hands in his pockets. He squinted down at the little plastic menu that the bar had printed out.

“Just club soda, please,” he smiled shyly at the bartender. You stood up, leaning your hip on the counter.

“I’m glad you could make it,” you spoke to him, smiling.

“Me too.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love Penelope, but I can’t hear about what she does in the bedroom with Kevin anymore,” you laughed at the end of the sentence. Spencer did, too.

“I know what you mean,” he noticed the way you messed with the zipper on your jacket as you spoke to him, a habit he picked up on quickly, when he first met you. “However, I think listening to Morgan talk about his one night stands is arguably worse,” he laughed.

“It’s SO much worse!” You hit him on his sweater-clad arm, playfully, a wide smile pulling up at your flushed cheeks. He laughed with you, putting his head down a little to hide the blush that bloomed up on his nose.

“Only about fifty percent of first dates result in a second one,” he continued, cracking his knuckles nervously. “there are ways to increase that likelihood, like a good first impression, or establishing shared interests early on,” he gained a little confidence. “actually, over sixty eight percent of successful couples report that they were close friends before dating,” he spoke the last part before he could think about it. After he realized what his words might have suggested, he closed his mouth, turning away shyly. You smiled to yourself, putting your head down a little. “That’s, uh, probably why Morgan hasn’t found someone yet,” he turned back to you, smiling tight-lipped. “At least ONE reason,” he laughed. His lips pursed gently, his chestnut hair dangling around his ears. You looked up at him gently as he loosened his tie, still laughing a little at his joke. Your eyes wandered toward his lips. He licked them nervously, glancing back down at you, eyes scanning your face.

You were snapped out of you Reid-filled daze when an unknown man spoke up next to you.

“Hey, pretty lady,” his voice was gruff and had an inflection that somehow communicated that he had never touched a woman in his life. “Can I buy you a drink?” You turned around to see a man no older than thirty smirking slyly next to you, leaning on the bar. He absolutely REEKED of cigarette smoke.

“I’m okay,” you smiled nervously, subconsciously moving closer to Reid. The doctor narrowed his eyes, a little put off by the advance.

“Come on, pretty girl like you, here all alone?” He advanced. “Let me buy you a drink,” he reached out to put a hand on top of yours, but Spencer stepped in.

“Uhm, actually, she isn’t here alone,” he ran his hand through his hair nervously, giving the man a tight-lipped smile. The man looked between you two, a confused look on his face.

“For real?” His voice came out like gravel, and he scoffed a little bit.

“Yeah, for real,” you grabbed Reid’s hand, squeezing it. “I’m here with my boyfriend,” his heart skipped a beat or two when you called him that. Boyfriend. He couldn’t help but smile proudly at the man.

“You’ve GOTTA be joking,” he slurred, laughing.

“No, she’s not joking,” Reid stood up straight, tucking his hair behind his ear. “And, actually,” he began, his tone changing to how it usually did before he went on a rant. “According to surveys, around seventy percent of women find unsolicited advances in bars to be unwelcome and uncomfortable, rather than flattering,” he pressed his lips together, shrugging a little while squeezing your hand. You couldn’t help but giggle at his attempt to scare the guy off. The man just stood there, confused. “Studies show that people decide within the first seven seconds if they're interested in someone. If you come off as aggressive or disrespectful, your chances plummet, which,” he looked back at you, smiling. “I think is what happened here,” he was proud of himself; you could tell.

“I don’t need your statistics, Einstein, I think-“

“Actually, Einstein had an IQ of about 160; I have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read over twenty thousand words per minute,” this effectively wore the creep off, because he just mumbled an angry ‘whatever’ and walked away toward another group of girls.

You looked up at your friend and broke into laughter. He joined. “I cannot believe that worked,” you squeezed his hand a little, turning to face him.

“Honestly, me either. I figured he would either get bored and leave, or end up punching me,” he laughed out. “I may be in the FBI, but I don’t think I can handle a drunken bar brawl.” The bartender set the drinks on the counter in front of you and you gave him a small smile, grabbing yours. “The team’s probably waiting for us,” Spencer grabbed his drink, dropping your hand. You picked it back up, looking up at him.

“Just in case we come across any other creeps,” you smiled, a warmth running through the both of you.

“Good thinking,” he mused, squeezing your hand tightly, walking back toward the booth.

Morgan spotted the both of you, turning away from his conversation with Hotch.

“Oh? What’s this? Pretty Boy and Pretty Girl holding hands,” he crossed his arms. You rolled your eyes at the comment.

“Some weirdo tried picking me up, so,” you held your intertwined hands up so they could see. “Reid is my boyfriend, for the night,” you smiled, taking a sip of your drink. It was, supposedly, just for the night, but Spencer liked the sound of that.

And, admittedly, so did you.

(‼️💕IF YOU LIKED THIS, REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN💕‼️)

[clockwayswrites]

Mx. Minx - Dinner part 2

masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3 cw:mentions of blood and canon typical violence

He heard Danny move the bathroom and the sink running. Danny’s voice was garbled as he asked, “What sort of medical stuff do you need? Anything more than medication and some bruise cream?”

“A few scrapes,” he answered after a moment of assessing. He flexed his fingers. “My knuckles are probably bloody.”

“Bandages and ointment it is,” Danny said.

It was a while longer before the water shut off, long enough for Jason to be down to his pants, shirt, gloves, and mask. The rest of his gear made a small pile on the coffee table—an odd thing with cheap, mid-century modern lines covered in at least one full layer of stickers. It felt odd to have his weapons not only off, but just sitting where anyone could grab them. It made his hands itch.

He focused on carefully taking off his gloves.

Danny padded softly around the apartment, just out of Jason’s line of sight, before he set a haphazard collection of things on the coffee table next to Jason’s pile. There where the bandages, rags, wipes, and tubes but also bottles of sports drink, packets of crackers and those cheap powdered donuts.

Danny snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.

“Okay, let’s see to you. We’ll eat after, but if you need something now feel free. And you’re going to drink one of those bottles,” Danny said, tone matter of fact and oddly authoritative.

Not wanting a fight tonight, even just for the sake of being stubborn, Jason cracked open one of the bottles and took a long sip. Then he opened the other and set it purposefully in front of Danny, who rolled his eyes, but took a sip.

The gloves game off first. Jason hissed as the fabric pulled against the raw skin. The sound was harsh through the modulation of the mask, but Danny just made a soothing little sound in response and slowed down. When the gloves were finally off, battered knuckles revealed, Danny ran his thumbs under the mess.

“Lots of punching tonight, huh?” Danny asked.

Jason shrugged. “Lots of people needed to be punched.”

“I’m sorry that I don’t think there’s anyway for this not to hurt,” Danny said picked up the wet rag and pressed it to the knuckles.

It was surprisingly, soothingly, warm.

“I’m used to pain.”

Danny sighed. “I know. But I also know that really doesn’t make it any better.”

Jason could only shrug again. It didn’t, but that was also his life. It had always had pain in it. Still, it was nice of Danny to try and cause as little as possible. His touch was different than Leslie’s or Alfred. It was less clinical. Less numb to it all. Not that Danny seemed squeamish in the least or reacted poorly to the blood and bruises, but there was a sadness to him.

Not wanting to add to it, Jason tried to stay as quiet and still as possible as Danny cleaned and dressed the wounds and bruises. It was almost peaceful, despite the stings of pain, and Jason found the exhaustion pulling himself down into a lull.

“Any bruises on your torso?” Danny asked. His hands were already under Jason’s shirt, pushing the fabric up.

Jason stilled Danny’s hands, catching them in his own bandaged ones. “Not pretty under there.”

“I won’t mind.”

But would Jason?

Danny would see his scars—all of them. The one wasn’t something he could explain away. Worse, it was distinct. Identifying. People just didn’t have autopsy scars across their chest.

Jason thought about the guns and knives already on the coffee table.

His blood on the rags.

He dropped his hands.

[sunshineyuyu]

chained, part 2 (c. jh)

★ summary: after finally confessing to each other, you and jongho enjoy the morning in bed together, until you’re rudely interrupted by his roommate. ★ pairing: jongho x f!reader ★ genre: fluff, smut (mdni!), college ★ word count: 2k ★ tags/warnings: vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), piv sex (with a condom!), reader calls jongho sir, jongho calls reader babygirl/baby, slight dom/sub undertones?, roommate!san ★ notes: i originally had a small epilogue scene written and scrapped it, but since i got some amazing feedback for part 1, i decided to rework it into a this small part 2 as a thank you to everyone!! hope you enjoy :3 ★ masterlist | read on ao3 | part 1

the next morning when you wake up, you’re cuddled into jongho’s side, wearing his old high school football shirt, in his bed. you nose the underside of his jaw. he groans a little and pushes you away from him.

“hey!” you say, a little disoriented by how he shoves you aside like a blanket and not a body.

“my arm is asleep,” he moans in response, massaging his bicep with his other hand. his voice is gruff and low, dripping with sleep, and you feel your pulse drop lower at the velvety sound.

“are you calling me fat?” you say, rolling over to bracket his hips with your knees, your hands pressed into his chest. your hair falls over one shoulder like a curtain.

“nah,” jongho says, smirking a little as his hands fall lower to palm your ass. “but your ass is kinda thick, though.”

you wrinkle your nose. “you don’t talk like that.”

jongho laughs, a deep rumble that’s even sexier with his morning voice.

“so are we doing this?” he says, fondly.

“doing what?” you say, as if you aren’t subtly grinding against his crotch.

his right hand stays on your ass, nudging it slightly to keep going, while the other one slides up your front until he settles it against your jaw, his thumb rubbing at your cheek.

“this,” he murmurs, bucking up suddenly against you. you bounce and shriek, losing your balance and falling forward enough so that he can meet your lips with his. it’s close-mouthed, all lips, probably for the sake of your respective morning breaths, but it’s intimate and sends shivers down your spine.

“i like you,” he mumbles, kissing the corner of your mouth, and then your cheek, your jaw, your neck.

“i like you, too,” you breathe back.

“just making sure last night wasn’t a dream,” jongho says, mouthing at your pulse point.

“no, it wasn’t,” you assure him.

“let’s eat breakfast,” jongho says, pulling back and meeting your gaze with his soft one.

“i thought we were about to have sweet sweet morning sex,” you say, pouting.

he hums. “who says you aren’t breakfast?”

you gape at him, just as he grabs your hips harshly and flips you both over. you thump against the mattress while giggling.

“i like you a lot,” you laugh while he nuzzles your neck.

“good.”

that one syllable word that plagued you for the past week sounds so sweet now when it’s being whispered into your skin.

jongho pushes your shirt up above your chest so that your breasts are exposed. your nipples pebble easily under his hooded gaze, and you arch your back when he fits his mouth around one of them. they’re still tender from last night, and jongho seems to know this, because he’s gentle as he nips and laps at the bud before moving over to the other one.

by the time jongho pulls back, you’re nearly panting with arousal. he sits on his hind legs to admire his handiwork. he’d wrecked you so thoroughly last night that you hadn’t washed off your makeup before falling asleep, so you assume you’re a debauched mess. but the way jongho looks down at you so reverently makes you feel beautiful.

hoping to move things along, you start to take off your—his—shirt, but then jongho growls, “no, keep it on.”

“oh?” you say.

“i’ve seen you wear san’s shirts long enough,” he says. “you’re only allowed to wear mine, now.” he’s being possessive, and you like it, but you can also hear the slight pout in his voice.

“yes, sir,” you say, and you mean it in a joking way, but then you see something flash in jongho’s eyes.

you grin. “you like that? sir?”

“yeah,” he says quietly. “yeah, i like that a lot, baby.”

“yeah? then—would you please hurry up, sir?” this time, you practically purr the word to him, fluttering your eyelashes and trailing your fingers along his forearms.

“fuck,” he breathes. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

he does hurry up, pushing you up the bed while he moves down it. you’d forgone underwear while sleeping since they’d been ruined, and jongho groans when he’s face to face with your cunt.

“so fucking pretty,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

he starts slow, lapping gently at your clit which is still a little sensitive. by the time he properly fits his mouth over you and fucks his tongue into your cunt, you’re a whining, squirming mess. soon, he trades his tongue for two fingers, and he moves back to your clit. while he sucks on it, he finger fucks you, curling them just right to hit the spot that makes you keen.

“nng—! fuck, feels so good, jongho!” you moan.

he pulls back abruptly, and you whimper.

“jongho?” he questions, low and slightly menacing.

you gasp as you remember. “—sir!” you correct.

“mmm.” he smiles as he hums against your pussy. “good girl.”

“pl- please, sir!” you beg as he returns to his ministrations, but all slow like how he started. you moan in frustration because you know that he’s doing it on purpose to tease you. “please, i was so close!”

“i know, babygirl, i know,” jongho coos at you, still working his fingers leisurely in and out of you. his thumb grazes your clit just barely, but it’s enough to make you jolt and whine. “just a little longer—okay? then i’ll make you cum.”

but jongho can’t actually make good on the promise, because you’re unceremoniously interrupted by a knock on the door from san. the sound you make in surprise must be loud, because the knocks pause, and then you hear,

“jongho? was that you?”

you and jongho make eye contact at the same time, both silently panicking. 

“what do we say?” you hiss.

“i don’t know!” jongho returns, curling his fingers in you unintentionally, and you let out a squeak as he brushes against that spot again. jongho claps a hand over your mouth.

“oh! are you—?”

“one second!” jongho calls, finally extracting his fingers from inside you. you scramble under the covers, pulling jongho’s comforter up above your head despite how hot you feel from having an impending orgasm ripped away from you and from the embarrassment of your best friend discovering you in bed with his roommate.

jongho opens the door, and you hear him say: “hey.” you stifle a laugh at his poor attempt at a casual tone.

“morning,” san says, drawing out the o. “you don’t- you don’t usually keep them around for the morning.” he whispers this, but the room is so silent you can hear him.

“shut up,” jongho says, and you hear the door close. you peek up above the covers and see that jongho must’ve stepped outside to continue the conversation. against your better judgement, you push aside the sheets and squat down next to the door so that you can eavesdrop.

you hear dull thud like jongho might’ve punched san in the arm.

“ow,” san says. “am i wrong? you usually always shoo them out at night.”

“this isn’t- this isn’t like those times,” jongho says sheepishly.

“what does that mean?” san says. “is this- is this someone you’re serious about? who is it? don’t you- um- don’t you have a thing for y/n?”

“i- it—” jongho’s at a loss for words. “it is y/n,” jongho finally sighs.

“it’s—!” there’s a pregnant pause, and then you hear loud slaps as san claps jongho on the back. “you motherfucker,” san says, a little amused and a little exasperated. “so that’s why we couldn’t find either of you last night!”

“yeah,” jongho mutters.

“y/n? omygosh–y/n, come out!” san calls. after slipping into a random pair of jongho’s sweats, you oblige by springing out of his room with a grin.

“fucking finally,” san says, as you bound up to hug him.

“right?” you say, laughing.

“why are you two celebrating?” jongho grumbles, but when you turn to look at him, you can tell he’s fighting a smile.

san claps his hands together. “okay! well then, i’m gonna pop down and get us some bagels!” he pulls out his phone to check the time and hums. “i will be back in approximately 30 minutes! that should be enough time for you two to finish, right?” 

“jesus christ,” jongho moans, dragging a hand over his face.

“thanks, san!” you sing, grabbing jongho’s wrist and pulling him towards his bedroom.

“he’s gonna be a menace to us, isn’t he?” jongho asks, as you lay back on the bed and drag him down with you.

“to you, yeah!” you say cheerfully, wiggling out of the sweats. “now, i think i’m owed an orgasm, and we only have 30 minutes!”

“oh, don’t worry, baby,” jongho smiles, his qualms with san forgotten as you spread your legs for him. he crouches down to resume his position between your thighs, hands massaging the meat there and hot breath fanning across your cunt. “that’s plenty of time.”

after that, he makes you cum in record time (“we still have 25 minutes,” he says coyly, making a show of checking the little clock on his nightstand while grabbing a condom). then, he flips you over, presses gently between your shoulder blades so that you arch perfectly for him, and finally finally slips his cock into you.

it’s the perfect size for you—a nice stretch without being painful—and hits all the right spots inside. his thick thighs come in use for maintaining deep and consistent strokes that have you whining and fisting the sheets. you’re glad that san has fully vacated the apartment, because there is nothing quiet about how jongho is fucking you.

“god, you’re perfect,” he says, each syllable punctuated with a toe-curling thrust. 

all you can do is whimper in reply.

“yeah? feel good, babygirl?”

“yes!” you gasp.

he smirks. “yes, what?”

“yes, sir,” you moan.

“good girl.”

eventually, jongho pulls out to turn you onto your back. you’re all limp limbs at this point, deliriously on the brink of another orgasm and so malleable to his touch. he rests your calves against his perfect, broad shoulders and leans down to give you a kiss. his silver chain falls forward with him, and you giggle when it catches in between your lips.

“oh, shit, sorry,” he says, but you chase after the thing with your teeth.

his breath hitches when he sees you grin up at him, still biting onto the chain. “dreamt about this,” you hum.

“oh, yeah?”

and then he pushes back into you. the chain falls out of your mouth as you moan, but it dangles deliciously above you as he finally brings you both to orgasm.

“fuck,” he grunts as he spills into the condom.

“i can’t feel my legs,” you say, chest heaving and body positively buzzing. in the past twelve hours, every orgasm with jongho has been nothing short of phenomenal, and the sheer quantity of them is catching up to you. “i don’t think i can move.”

meanwhile jongho is already standing up and moving around the room to dispose of the condom and clean up. he laughs. “you’re gonna give me an ego.”

“you deserve it,” you say. “sir,” you tack on. 

“oh my god,” jongho says. “don’t act like you’re not into it, too!”

he descends on your sides, poking and prodding you until you both fall into breathless giggles. you love how easy it is with jongho. how you can move from intense sex to joking around to murmuring softly with each other.

it makes everything it took to get to this point feel worth it.

“we should go on a proper date, later,” jongho says, as he helps you into a new clean set of his clothes. 

“okay,” you agree. “where would we go?”

“mm, maybe sushi?” he suggests.

you hear the jangle of keys at the front door, signaling san’s return.

“i’m home!” he calls out, entirely too loud. “i have returned! with food!”

jongho rolls his eyes and you laugh, as the two of you join san in the kitchen for breakfast.

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roomates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: angsty (very minimal), injury(very minimal), john not knowing how to handle certain situation.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3!! - part 4

-----------

That's when it started, the weird energy that set the scene for every interaction between the two of you. He couldn't help but start to see this so-called “tension” gaz had mentioned fulfill its way into your lives. Not only was it your beauty, it was the domesticity that settled in your relationship. You need that lightbulb in your room replaced, you politely knocked on his door, car troubles? Yeah John should know how to do that. But what scared him the most wasn't the attraction he felt towards you, it was your lack thereof. He never seemed to catch you sparing him any extra glances than were necessary. Unlike him he couldn't help but catch his greedy eyes secretly soaking in every inch of you when given the opportunity. 

But he couldn't be further than wrong 

Because at the opposite end of your home your mind seems to be obsessed with the thought of john. What a man he was. He must’ve been getting some back on base and you couldn't even be jealous, aroused though definitely. He's actually all 6 foot something of fine, absolutely climbable. But god does that man often look like he wants not a thing to do with you. Especially most recently you rarely even see him and when you do he barely speaks or spares you a glance.

—-----------------

“Hey, haven't seen you in awhile.” you surprise him extremely early in the kitchen one morning.

“Oh um good morning, I’m fine just been a bit busy. Why are you up so early?” He lies then quickly changes the topic knowing being awake during these hours of the morning  isn’t your forte.

“Scheduled a client for 6AM instead of 6PM and it's too late to cancel.'' He hums in response, willing himself to say something more but his mind comes up blank as it often does in your presence. 

So he leaves without a word and nothing in hand he just leaves. And you stand there absolutely thrown through the loop at the moment that you two just shared. 

—--------------

“We were doing great as roommates. You know I was comfortable and he seemed comfortable but now I swear that man avoids me like the plague.” you say to the longtime client in your chair.

“Maybe he’s just not social.” She chimes in, you concentrate while trying to part her hair before replying.

“I could see that being the case if he hadn’t been so social the previous two weeks you know, we’ve made meals in the kitchen together, watched television in the living room so I don’t understand what changed.” you say applying product to the sectioned hair.

“What if he doesn’t like you?” your hands pause for a second as you ponder the thought.

“Well I guess he doesn’t have to like me to live with me.” you say with very visibly discontent.

“But you on the other hand strive when people like you.” she replies, reading right through you.

“Well yeah I think anybody would.” you shrug.

“Not a military man who’s probably widely hated.” She's always right and you hate it.

“What's not to like about me?” you genuinely couldn't come up with an answer yourself.

“Are you a messy roommate or do you bother him a lot or do you nag him for his mess?” You can’t think of doing any of those but maybe asking for his help from time to time.

“I might be bothering him but nothing I would consider too much , just some help from time to time.” she laughs from her seat and you unenthusiastically spin the chair she's in to face you.

“Was it in the contract that he'd have to help you from ‘time to time’.'' You give her a quizzical look and she just continues.

“Men like to do the bare minimum and that's it. They hate being bothered. Take it from me. I'm married with three sons and they're all the same. Oh they have to do the dishes, sure, but will they dry them, or put them away? No, because that's not what I asked.” you hum understanding her point but still finding it hard to see john really feeling that way.

“So then I shouldn't ask him for anything and maybe he'll come around?” you ask in an unsure tone.

“yup.” she replies blunt, fast and very sure of herself.

—-----------

So you listened, this whole week you've not asked John for a thing which was pretty easy up until now. Your luck never fails to run out at the worst times. A flat tire in the middle of the road on your way home. You pull off to the side contemplating what to do as the sun is beginning to set and there's really only two options.

One, call John and ruin your streak of leaving him be. Two, call the car service company and pay their ridiculous prices to change the tire out. Of course you go with option two cause calling john seems to make you more nervous.

It takes 3 hours for the mechanic to get to where you are, change the tire, and point out other imperfections about your car that you pay no mind to. When you finally make it home you’re bothered, exhausted and broke.

John doesn't miss the unusualness of your late arrival but also doesn't question it, even though he wants to. Your groans of frustration echo through the hallway and he immediately can tell it was a bad day.

You change out of your work clothes and go into the kitchen for a snack as you do your daily phone call to your sister to tell her about the events of your day. John creeks his office door open to hear a little better but nothing noticeable. 

“He charged me six hundred dollars, I mean how is that even legal?” You complain into the phone that’s balanced between your neck and shoulder. 

“It was just my tire that was flat, nothing else.” you follow up while chewing on an apple. You swear you could cry by repeating that monstrosity.

John can't help but feel a bit confused and upset that you hadn't just called him instead of calling whatever dick that charged you that much for something so simple. Changing a tire is an easy 30 minutes that he definitely had on his hands especially for you. You had not hesitated asking for help before so what's changed now?

—-------------

“Okay, unscrew the old bulb and screw in the new bulb, very simple.” you reassure yourself as you stand on top of the tall ladder to replace the porch light. It’s icy outside and cold sweeps under your layers of clothes making your normally shaky hands shakier.

“Okay okay- damn it.” You drop the bulb that burnt out onto the floor watching the glass scatter.

You screw the new one in and step down, closing the latter with frustrated groan, then going to pick up the bigger shards to toss out before sweeping. You should’ve known that bulb glass was insanely thin and sharp but sometimes your brain leaves out the important stuff.

“Ow, fuck fuck fuck.” You cry out at the shard of glass that forms a long clean cut on your palm. You cry as you run into your home holding the cut tightly. Finding the sink you turn the water on and rinse it clean. Your ears don’t comprehend the loud footsteps that make their way towards the kitchen.

“What happened?” A deep voice sighs out behind you.

“Nothing.” Your hiccups escape involuntarily as it continues to bleed dramatically. You squeeze your eyes shut as it begins to burn more and more.

“Let me see.” He tries to grab at your hand genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine, it’s just a cut.” You resist him by keeping your hand under the water.

“Cut from what?” he's a bit frustrated at your refusal of letting his trained mind and hands help.

“I was changing the light bulb outside and one broke.” you admit quietly.

“Why didn’t you ask me to do it?” once again what is with you no longer asking him for his very available help.

“Cause I can handle myself John.” You’re irritated at the obvious evidence that you cannot. Your non wounded hand rips a paper towel from the roll and you hold it to the cut to go bandage it in your room. 

You leave John standing in the kitchen and don’t even look back as you make your way to your room. He stays in that same spot for a second wondering where your random change in attitude is coming from but in the end he comes up blank and goes out to the porch to clean the rest of the glass up.

—----------

You feel terribly guilty when you wake up the next morning to see the porch swept clean and ladder put away from the previous night. You toughen up and put your big girl pants on to go apologize. You knock on his bedroom door and hear ruffling on the other side before he answers.

“hey john i'm really sorry for-” you stop noticing him dressed from head to toe in his military attire and damn.

“For what?” He takes notice of your pause and one up.

“For um the way I acted last night I know you were only trying to help and um why are you dressed like that?” You can’t help but question it.

“I have to go on base for a little bit, maybe a day or two. It shouldn't be too long but who knows, let me grab my check for you.” He walks back into his awfully clean room and grabs something out of a drawer and hands you a white envelope that consists of his monthly rent.

“Oh okay.” You can’t even hide the blush that laces between your features and although he notices it he can’t pinpoint the reasoning.

“Also don’t be sorry we all have our days and I shouldn’t have overstepped.” You nod in response not really knowing what to say. 

“Okay bye then I guess.” You awkwardly wave at him even though you stand mere inches away from his tall frame. 

“Bye doll.” He says before you walk away entirely thrown over whatever conversation that was.

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

comments and reposts and appreicated <3

thankyou for all the love on this story so far.

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01

@arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy

@rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @spyderdoll @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppixie @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22

[apple-kiwi]

Skz Calling you clingy

Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, I.N.

Part 1

Authors note: This was supposed to be out on Tuesday but then I got into K-drama and kinda forgot about. I honestly hate how this turned out but whatever. I tagged everyone who asked for part 2, if you want to be untagged lmk, also if you want to be added to my tag list for this series lmk

Warning: None I think

Taglist: @heaveniseverywhere @straykidslvr @staybychoice @luckymilkshakerebel

Not proof read

Word count: 939

Days passed since your argument and you hadn't gone back to the apartment. You'd been crashing at a friend's place, needing time and space to cool down. Lee Know, on the other hand, started to realize the gravity of his mistake and how much he had messed up.

He hadn’t expected you to just up and leave, leaving him alone in the apartment. He also hadn't considered the fact that you might not come back anytime soon. His initial indifference was gradually replaced by a feeling of regret. He had stood you up, ignored your texts, and then called you clingy. The more he thought about it, the more it dawned on him how much he had screwed up.

Each day that passed, the more he longed to see you, to apologize and make it up to you somehow. And so, after a few days of stewing in his thoughts, he decided to make the first move. He sent you a text.

The text read: 'Can we talk? I messed up and I'm sorry. Please come back.'

You stared at the screen of your phone contemplating whether to respond or not. Your anger was still fresh, but the pang in your heart wouldn’t go away. After debating for a while you decided to type a simple reply.

'Alright, we can talk.'

Your short response surprised Lee Know. He hadn't expected you to agree to meet so easily but his heart slightly leaped with hope. Immediately he texted back.

'Can you come back home? I want to apologize in person.'

‘Ok.’

Lee Know’s anxiety spiked at your simple 'Ok’. Did that mean you'd come back? He waited anxiously for your arrival, pacing around the apartment. He hadn't seen you in days and it was eating him up inside.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the sound of the apartment door opening grabbed his attention and he turned to see you walk in. Your expression was neutral and your eyes were slightly puffy. You avoided eye contact with him, closing the door behind you. A tense silence hung in the air as neither of you knew how to start the conversation. But after a few moments, Lee Know spoke up, his voice laced with remorse, "I'm sorry," he took a few steps forward, still maintaining a small distance between you two. With an apologetic look, he continued, "I shouldn't have stood you up and called you clingy a brat. God, I don’t even know why I said that. I should've been there for our anniversary and I'm sorry I ruined it. I hadn’t realized I hurt you so much."

You remained silent for a while, finally meeting his gaze. He looked genuinely apologetic, his eyes showing genuine remorse. He wanted to come closer and hug you, but he was hesitant, not sure how you would react. He knew he had caused the damage and now he didn't know how to fix it. You let out a shaky exhale, “You really hurt me min…”

Lee Know looked at you, his face a mix of guilt and sadness. As you spoke, his heart felt heavy.

"I know I hurt you, I made a mistake and I'm so sorry.”

"I promise I'll make it up to you," he said softly. That day was a big day for us, and because of my selfishness, I ruined it. I was thoughtless, and I'm sorry.”

He looked at you, his eyes expressing his remorse. He took another step towards you. "I'm sorry. Do you," he hesitated for a moment, "Do you want to break up?"

Lee Know asked nervously, dreading the answer he might get, but he needed to ask, he knew what he did and said was wrong and unforgivable.

“What? No,” you say almost instantly, looking up at him, surprised he would even think that you know the argument was pretty bad and there were words that shouldn’t have been said but it was nothing that couldn't be talked out, and it was not bad enough to throw away a 2-year relationship, though if he hadn’t apologized it would have definitely been over.

He hesitantly closed the distance between you, carefully bringing his arms around you in a gentle embrace. He knew this wasn't enough to win you over but he wanted to feel your presence closer.

"I'm sorry," he repeated as he hugged you, feeling the weight of his mistake.

And he truly meant it. He wanted to fix this, to make things right. He knew it wouldn't be easy but he was ready to try. The thought of losing you had scared him and he realized that he needed to put more effort into being a better boyfriend.

“I know…” you whisper

Lee Know held onto you, not wanting to let go. He knew sorry wasn't enough, he knew he needed to prove it through his actions.

"I love you," he said softly. "Please don't leave me."

“I'm not… I won't…” You say softly, sniffling and trying to wipe your eyes

Your words provided him with some relief, a weight lifted off his shoulders.

"Thank you,” he said softly, letting go to examine your expression. He reached up gently, wiping away the last traces of tears from your cheeks. "I promise I won't mess up like that again.”

"I'll do better," he added. "I'll prioritize you more and make sure we communicate better."

He kept his arms around you, still afraid to let go. He wanted to savor this moment of having you close after days of missing it so badly. You two stay like that for a while before you playfully pinch his side, “You owe me dinner.”

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 2

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: mentions of blood

series masterlist │my masterlist

you wake up slowly, blinking sluggishly at the ceiling. your memories of the previous day come rushing in, and you can’t help but wonder if it was all some kind of fever dream. but when you sit up in bed, that thought is immediately thrown away, because logan is curled up on the floor watching you, staring.

“how long have you been awake?” you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. he just tilts his head, listening but giving you no indication of the answer to your question.

you’d set him up in the guest bedroom last night. he had laid down on top of the covers, the same way he was positioned on your floor now, and though you had wanted to pull the covers over his body, you decided to let him do what was most comfortable, most natural, to him. you had already thrown quite a bit of new his way, best to let him process it all.

you don’t know at what point he’d migrated from the guest room to your floor, but he’s here now. he had been watching you sleep. a wave of anxiety washes over you - what do you look like when you sleep? do you drool? is it unattractive?

(they’re certainly not the thoughts you should be having when a man you hardly know watches you sleep, but he’s hot and oddly endearing.)

he rises up to his feet only seconds after you, and you have to tell him not to follow you into the bathroom, to which he growls.

later, you’re sitting at the table with logan, eating the breakfast you’d cooked up. you had to teach him how to use a fork, which was terribly entertaining, and even now he looks dismayed at not being able to eat with his hands, having to pick up the food with a metal instrument instead. he stabs the fork loudly every time he brings it down, as if to communicate his disapproval, but he doesn’t look truly angry, just pouty.

“are you going to follow me around all day again?” you ask, “because i don’t mind, but i just wanted to let you know that i have quite a few things on my to-do list.”

he stops eating, stares at you for a few seconds, nods, and then continues as if you hadn’t spoken. 

one of your favourite parts of living outside of a city is the nature, the space, the green that surrounds you with your favourite thing: plants. your grandmother had taken care of a gorgeous garden of fruits and vegetables and herbs for as long as you could remember, teaching a starry-eyed child version of you everything she knew. you’re the one left with the responsibility now.

you clean the dishes, humming to yourself, logan behind you, and when you’re done, you lead him outside. you bask in the sunlight of the outdoors, each step in the dewy grass a thrill. there’s a morning chill in the air, the new-day sun having not quite warmed your surroundings yet.

you remind logan to be careful of where he steps, talking him through your long list of things for him not to do, so lost in the one-sided conversation that you don’t even notice when he stops before the garden starts. you look back at him, confused that he’s not trailing you anymore, but he doesn’t leave either, he just sits down on the grass.

a warmth blooms in your chest. you don’t know his thoughts or his intentions, but you want to think he stopped because he could tell how much you didn’t want him messing with the plants, your domain, the happy place of your childhood. 

the best part about assuming these things about logan is that he can’t correct you, so you can create a little version of him in your head that thinks about you and looks at you the way you look at him. it’s been two days - not even, it’s been a day and a half. could you be any more pathetically starved of love and affection?

well, no, you think to yourself.

it doesn’t take you long to finish up the watering and weeding, checking around for any more problems that you might not catch at first glance. you take your time harvesting what you can, placing it all in two cute woven baskets you brought out with you.

you’re already thinking of the food you could make for logan, giddy with excitement at finally getting to feed someone other than yourself. you love taking care of others, it’s one of your love languages, or maybe it’s just a way for you to feel needed in the hopes that people won’t leave you if you do enough for them. either way, you’ve always genuinely enjoyed cooking, but you can’t do it as much when there’s only one person in the house to feed.

and logan had eaten a lot, last night. he’s big, of course, it’s to be expected, but you suppose you haven’t been close enough with anyone to share food in a while, so it’s strange.

when you return to logan’s side, smiling brightly, he smiles back at you. it’s the first smile you’ve seen on his face, the first expression other than a snarl, a look of confusion, or the expressionless stare he directs towards you. and wow, it lights up his features, turns everything soft, like the world has blurred just slightly, the kind of unclear image that tells you you’re in a dream.

“you’re pretty when you smile,” you say without meaning to. but with the way he brightens even more at the praise, purring in contentment, you don’t regret it.

he doesn’t do much the entire day, just follows you as you go through your list of chores. he’s always careful not to get in your way.

by evening, you can feel the pent-up energy and tension inside him, but he’s so good at pretending it isn’t there that you’re sure you wouldn’t have noticed if not for having seen him when he was truly relaxed. you feel guilty, cooping him up inside when there’s clearly some part of him that’s feral, making him act more like an animal than human like you.

you don’t live the most exciting life, it’s not fast-paced and entertaining and it definitely doesn’t keep you on your toes guessing what might happen next. you prefer the quiet, the comfort of a familiar routine, doing domestic chores and reading by the fireplace. it’s monotonous, but it’s something you can rely on, something that won’t change on you.

logan longs for something your life can’t provide.

he’s gazing out the open windows, at the forest from which you’d first seen him emerge, something in his eyes that you can’t decipher. and you realise that maybe you can give him what he needs. you live out in the middle of nowhere, animals roaming free in those woods, far from other people. in between two worlds, just like logan.

“you know you don’t have to follow me all the time,” you say gently, meeting him by the window, “nothing will happen if you go outside for a while. you can go, run free, and i’ll be here when you come back.”

he contemplates for a while and you wait, patient, hoping you come across as reassuring, that he knows you’re being genuine. it’s funny to think that when you first saw him you’d wanted him to leave.

he does go, eventually, after going through the entire house and sniffing around like he was searching for some kind of threat. so you sit on your couch with a book and a cup of tea, reading about silly little characters falling in love.

when logan comes back he’s shirtless, smelling of sweat and musk, chest heaving. he looks the best you’ve ever seen him, and not just because the sweat is making his skin glisten and you can see his perfect abs. something about him has changed, though it's not something physical. he didn’t have to hold back, was able to release all the tension you know must have been clinging to him since yesterday, or even longer. (you still don’t know his backstory.)

he curls up on the other side of the couch to you, and you spend the rest of the night with a hand in his hair, scratching his head occasionally to listen to his pleased purrs.

a week goes by and you fall into somewhat of a routine. logan clings to you less, though he still prefers to be in the same room as you most of the time. he goes out into the forest to run and sometimes to hunt, coming back with blood staining his clothes.

although the first few tries failed miserably, you’ve gotten quite good at removing bloodstains from fabric, which is not a skill you ever imagined yourself perfecting. 

it’s been a while since your last visit to town, and you need to go pick up a few things, not just for yourself but for logan too.

“logan,” you call for him as you’re grabbing a few last things to throw in your bag. he bounds up to you as usual. sometimes he reminds you so much of a cute puppy that you get the urge to pet him and call him “good boy” but you don’t know how he would take that, so you refrain.

“i need to leave for a bit,” you say, “just like how you leave sometimes. i’ll be back soon, just need to get a few things.”

he grumbles and pouts as you leave but doesn’t stop you. he does stare longingly at you from through the window, you catch the sight as you’re driving out.

the closest town to your house is small, but it has all the necessities. you pick up some groceries, things you can’t make or grow yourself. and then you need to get clothes for logan. you had eyed his measurements, taking note of the size of his body, though you didn’t know them exactly. it’s still better than him continuing to wear clothes that don’t fit him. 

although most days he prefers not to wear a shirt. because he wants to torture you, clearly.

it’s a good kind of torture, the kind that produces butterflies in your stomach and brings heat to your face. you try not to ogle him, not wanting to objectify him or make him uncomfortable, but when he catches you staring he only ever comes closer, pressing up against you.

you could have brought him with you, but you weren’t sure it was a good idea. he’s a mutant, you guessed that pretty quickly on the first night, and people aren’t very kind to mutants. especially small-minded, small-town folks. and though logan’s appearance isn’t damning on its own, his behaviours clearly show the animal side of him.

he doesn’t need to deal with awful people and their awful comments. you want to protect him from that as much as you can.

you normally take your time meandering around the town, stopping at your favourite bookstore to pick up some new reads, grabbing a horribly overpriced coffee as a treat, maybe even sitting on a bench in the park, enjoying your drink and novel as you watch children run around and play, parents shouting after them, dogs barking in excitement. 

but today, you itch to return home. there’s a tight feeling in your chest, a loneliness you haven’t felt in a long time, and it calls out logan’s name, pleading for you to return to him. you still stop by the bookstore, and if you’re more attracted towards the romance novels with a supernatural, animalistic love interest this time around, that’s for you and the cashier who rings you up to know.

you’re beaming when you return home, parking the car and grabbing your bags to bring them inside. your smile falters when logan doesn’t greet you at the door. you peak into the living room to find it empty as well.

it saddens you, but you assume he went out into the forest for a while. it makes sense that he wouldn’t want to stay cooped up in the house with nothing to entertain him while you were gone. you had formed a scenario in your mind where logan would rush towards you when you returned, like a puppy who missed his owner.

when you finish putting away your groceries, you head towards your bedroom. pushing the door open, you freeze, mouth parted and eyes going soft at the sight that greets you.

logan is curled up in your bed, fast asleep in the spot where you always sleep, face buried in your pillow. he’s under the blankets for once, and they curl around his shape to wrap him up in soft warmth.

you tip-toe towards the bed, careful not to wake him. you don’t know how long he’s been sleeping, and you wish you had a way to play back the scene of him crawling into your bed, untucking the sheets to slip under them, sniffing the bed to find the spot where he knew you slept, the place that smelled the most like you.

oh, you adore him.

it’s fast, terribly so, but he’s wormed his way into your heart. it’s not love yet, but you think you could grow to love him someday.

you sit on the bed, moving over until you’re by logan’s side. he looks so peaceful like this, and you bring your hand to his head, intending to give him the scratches he loves so much, when he wakes suddenly.

the next thing you know, you’re on your back, logan on top of you, claws at your neck. you blink up at him, everything happening so quickly that your brain hasn’t had time to catch up and tell you to scream or struggle or anything else one would typically do when you have sharp blades pointed at your throat.

it doesn’t matter, because logan’s eyes meet yours, and his claws retract into his knuckles. you relax into the mattress, leftover fear dissipating because you know he won’t hurt you. he was surprised, that’s all, and really you should know better than to sneak up on someone with clear, obvious trauma.

his lips twitch up for barely a second, not quite reaching a smile, and then his expression darkens as he leans forward to sniff you. he growls, a deep rumble in his throat, shoving his face into your neck.

you can feel the vibrations through your body from the proximity between you and logan. it’s different from when he purrs in your ear and you feel as though the sound penetrates your skin, finding its way into your bloodstream, forcing your heartbeat faster.

something’s wrong, you can tell. you’ve never seen him react to you this way. so you bring your arms up to wrap around his midsection, hands on his back, slow movements not to startle him.

“what’s wrong?” you ask in a gentle whisper, “did something happen while i was away.”

there’s another growl as he sniffs you again. he pushes his body closer to yours, chest to chest, one of his legs between yours. 

“mine,” logan says, followed by him pressing his face in your neck and licking and sucking at the skin. you gasp and squirm under him, but you don’t want him to stop, not really.

your mind is reeling. he spoke. a real word, one you recognise, passing through his lips, floating in the air between you. his voice is smooth, nothing like you expected, and yet it suits him.

you laugh. you can’t help it, you’re giddy. he pulls back when you laugh, still frowning, but you don’t care. the word is repeating in your head. “mine”, he’d called you, staking his claim both verbally as well as physically marking you as his. it’s terrible, you’ve known him only a week, yet you feel all warm and fuzzy, the room around you like a mirage. the only things that exist are you and logan and that word.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff

[imnosuvu]

bounded by business (2)

part one here!

peaky blinders x fem!reader, thomas shelby x fem!reader

type: fluff/angst(?)/smut(ish)

summary: a second class powerful gang in the south of london reaches out too a strong working class gang in the south east of birmingham for a union. Whilst the wedding takes place, unwanted guests break in, causing the newly wedded couple to panic.

timeline: preferably at the start of season 2, maybe even before, but after grace’s betrayal. (Arthur is not married to Linda yet.)

warnings: swearing, gang talk, arranged marriage, weapons, kissing, toxic uncle(?), mention of cheating bf, violence, mentions of blood, reader getting sh, mentions of slight sexual interaction, smoking, drinking, brief mentions of guests getting high,

note: guys i apologise if the wedding isn’t correctly done as i am brown, and i don’t often go to weddings outside my culture, however, i have tried my hardest by following how weddings within the show went including some research. i highly apologise! thank you💗

masterlist.

requests are open❗️

Three days have passed since the meeting with the Peaky Blinders. It’s rather late and you’re at one of the posh pubs your family owns, drinking away the sorrows for the next day. Tomorrow’s the day you’re dreading. Oh how you’d rather get thrown in the cut than marrying some man that threatens to cut people with razor blades - a man you barely know.

“It’ll be alright,” you hear your best friend say, placing her drink down, snapping you out of your little daydream, offering comfort by giving you a little side hug. “He’s probably not as scary as you think.”

“(best friend’s name), He’s feared by the whole of Birmingham.” you speak in an obvious tone, turning your head to face her, raising your brows.

She, smiles, clearly amused. Whilst pressing her lips against the glass of wine, she teases, “Looks like you’ve done your research on your soon-to-be-husband.”

That earned her a wack on her waist.

“Ow!”

“Shush.” you remark, smirking lightly, watching her playfully glare at you from the corner of your eye, whilst sipping on your wine.

“I am NOT doing this!” you yell out, pushing away from your uncle and mother who are practically dragging you into the church.

“y/n you’re marrying him whether you like it or not!” your uncle growls out harshly, anger fueling his eyes, grabbing onto your arm again, harder than before.

“Mum!” you whine out, moving your pissed gaze from your uncle towards your mother.

“y/n, darling, just do this for your dad, you know how bad he wanted you to get married.” she calmly and sympathetically answers with, unlike what your uncle is doing. Your father died in the war, by an unexpected bombing attack from the German troops.

Trying to resist your uncle’s harsh grip, who’s attempting to get you into the church without messing your gorgeous white gown, flawless makeup and hair, you snap a light remark towards your mum, “I’m sure he would have actually wanted me to marry someone I love, not some wannabe gangster who waves his razor around.”

“Well that ‘wannabe gangster who waves his razor around’ provides you protection.” your uncle interrupts your mum from speaking, mocking your words, raising his voice towards you, “My brother- your father, would rather have wanted a man who’d protect you till his last breath than a guy who cheats on his girlfriend with a whore!”

You want to say something back, but the mention of Andrew stung, you thought you’ve drank the pain away, but of course, it’s still there.

“Now you’re going to fucking go into that church and marry him.” he yells in fury, pushing you towards the church harshly, each word being spat with anger, there’d be no surprise if the people inside the church heard, “I don’t want you causing any of your fucking scenes in there, you understand? No fights, no arguments, i don’t want any of that shit!”

When he hears no response, he snaps, scaring you,

“Do you understand?!”

Your mum shoots you a warning look, both of you knowing that if you don’t respond, he’d drag you in by your hair that has been curled gracefully by your older sister.

“I understand.” you softly mutter through gritted teeth.

“Now get in.” he pulls your arm, dragging you towards the church, your mother following behind.

“Tommy there’s still time y’know,” John mutters to his older brother, who’s stood at the alter, “You barely even know the woman! Who knows, she could probably one of those fuckin’ pointless activists?”

“John, listen to me, yeah? We might not know what she’s like, but are we going to drop a really fucking good deal over some woman, aye?” Thomas raises his brows at his younger brother.

“But Tommy-” John starts, however getting stopped when he notices you beginning to walk down the aisle. The younger Shelby sighs, cursing under his breathe, moving himself away from Thomas and towards Esme.

As the ceremony begins, everyone hushes down, watching you and your uncle, who’s masked his irritation, walking down the aisle, your veil coving your face, disguising your fury which you’re trying to stop from releasing, for the sake of the wedding. You keep your eyes low, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

Now stood infront of the Altar, your uncle passes you to the feared brummie gangster you’re forced to marry, you feel his thick, calloused hands taking your slimmer soft ones carefully, as if you’re glass that can be easily shattered. Those same hands now lift your veil up, revealing your neatly done makeup which is applied onto your soft, pretty, gorgeous face. His piercing blue eyes study you, yet keeping a stern expression, making you feel interrogated. Your gaze can’t help but lightly examine Thomas in return, noticing the way his expensive suit decorates his muscular build.

Breaking away from your gaze, both you and Thomas now turn, facing Jeremiah Jesus - a close friend of the Shelby’s.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together in holy matrimony, Thomas Michael Shelby and (reader’s full name).” Jeremiah speaks aloud, “Thomas Micheal Shelby and (reader’s full name), have you come here to enter into a marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?”

“I have.” Tommy replies, beside you, in his usual raspy tone. Jeremiah’s eyes now land on you, as you haven’t said your confirmation.

“I have.” you mutter carelessly, looking away.

Jeremiah then lightly nods, “Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and to honor eachother for as long as you both shall live?”

“I am.” you both now say, you now wanting to get this shit over with.

“Since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church.” Jeremiah continues, watching how both you and Tommy hold hands.

“I, Thomas Micheal Shelby, take you, (reader’s full name), to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. To love you and to honor you all the days of my life.” Tommy states his vows, repeating after Jeremiah, in a stern, cold tone, with his usual brummie accent, staring down at you, his piercing blue eyes glued onto you.

“I, (reader’s full name), take you, Thomas Micheal Shelby, to be my husband. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. To love you and to honor you all the days of my life.” the vows come out your mouth, unwillingly, not wanting to have come out of your plump lips. You return his stern look he gives you.

Jeremiah then continues on with his speech, finishing off with 'Amen'. He then sprinkles the wedding rings, that bound you with Thomas, with holy water, handing one to you and to Thomas.

“(reader’s full name), receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father and the Son, and the holy spirit.” the feared Birmingham gangster announces the vows Jeremiah indicates him to say, as he places the wedding band onto your left, ring finger, sliding it on.

“Thomas Micheal Shelby, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father and the Son, and the holy spirit.” you repeat the words, failing to hide your light annoyance as you place the wedding band onto Thomas’ left, ring finger.

“Now let us humbly invoke God's blessing upon this bride and groom, that in his kindness he may favor with his help those on whom he has bestowed the Sacrament of Matrimony.” Jeremiah states to everyone within the church, “In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife. The husband may now kiss the bride!”

As Jeremiah speaks the last sentence, your now husband, carefully cups your face, bringing his face closer towards yours, pressing a kiss onto your lips, instantly melting into it, you hesitantly place your hands onto the nape of his neck, closing your eyes, the kiss now turning quite intimate. Cheers erupt.

“Alright, calm down you both, no need to eat eachother up, you’ve got a whole house to do that shit in!” a deep, joy fall teasing voice erupts behind Thomas, snapping you both out of eachother’s mouths, seeing the owner of the voice, Arthur, smirk. You pull away from him, your brownish pink shaded lipstick now lightly smudged onto his lips, looking away, moving your gaze around, seeing your uncle nod lightly - in approval - his stern facade still remaining. As you look around, your eyes then land on a couple of Spanish lads, rivals of yours,

they surely weren’t on the wedding list.

“Right everyone, let’s get the fuckin’ family photo done!” Arthur yells aloud, snapping you out of your train of thoughts, making everyone get outside the church, where the wedding photo is meant to be taken.

As both yours and Thomas’ family gather around you both, infront of the camera, Arthur bellows for space to be made, guiding the less important guests away from the camera. You then look towards the field on your right, the same group of unknown Spanish men huddled together, seemingly discussing something suspiciously. Unexpectedly, you get pushed, loosing your balance on your heels, you fall into your husband. He quickly reacts by grabbing your waist, letting the cigar be held with his lips, holding you upright as you regain balance.

“Alright?” you hear him ask you, through the cigar, softly, yet his Birmingham accent present, looking down at you.

“Yeah, thanks...” you mutter, your light London accent contrasting his, as you straighten yourself, avoiding to look at him, still stubbornly furious at this wedding.

The rest of both families now finally find places to stand for the photograph. As the photographer announces the photo will be taken, Thomas snakes his arm around your waist, catching you off guard as he pulls you closer to him, your arm unconsciously resting onto his back, hand placed onto your shoulder. The Spanish men depart, moving away from others, you notice and can’t help but feel a hint of panic growing within you, you weren’t aware of their presence being made at the wedding.

As the photographer states that the photo has been taken, both families now disperse, mingling with each other. You notice how John and your younger brother getting along, having a laugh with one another. Yet your mind is still on those group of lads.

Family and friends now gather around you - same with your husband, you feel arms wrap around you in a friendly hug, you then notice it's your best friend, your chosen bridesmaid.

“I told you it'll be alright.” she mutters into your ear.

Unable to hide your light smile, you step back, letting go of her. “Don't get too full of yourself.” you mutter back, teasingly. She now moves to the side, as your mother embrace you. “Your father would be proud.” your mum states, cupping your face, smiling lightly.

You smile very lightly, placing your hands upon your mothers. “For dad.” you mutter.

Time passes, family and friends congratulate the newly weds. Finally, your uncle approaches, patting Thomas on the back, congratulating him and the rest of the Shelby family, the rest of your family following along on bidding their now in-laws a congrats, the Spanish not to be seen.

After a while, the party makes their way to the Arrow House for the reception. Thomas makes his way towards you, placing his hand on the low of your back, guiding you towards the chariot.

“Let's take you to your new home, aye?” he says as he helps you up into the chariot.

“I can get on it myself.” you snap lightly towards him, refusing his help, causing his corner of his lip to curl upwards into a very tiny smirk.

The ride to the Arrow House was silent. As the chariot approaches your new home, you can't help but notice how gorgeous the victorian house is. You look up mesmerised by the beauty. Thomas notices but doesn't say anything, instead he gets off the carriage and puts his hands out to help you down, which at first you refused to take, until you realised your wedding dress weighs you down, giving you a high chance to face plant the floor. Stepping into the house, you look around, captivated by its stunning decor, looking at the paintings with decorate the walls. The wedding party follows behind, cheering and laughing with one another.

“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Shelby.” you hear an older woman say, you turn your head to where the voice was coming from, realising it was a maid.

“Is everything set, Frances?” he mutters, exhaling smoke.

“Yes, Mr. Shelby.” she replies.

Everyone settles in, music erupts in the hall, couples singing and dancing, getting drunk and high. You observe around the room, figuring out where the Spanish lads have wondered off too.

A woman, seeming a couple of years younger smiles at you, “Welcome to the Family.” she passes you a glass of irish whiskey. “I'm Ada, Ada Thorne, Tommy's younger sister.”

You gladly take the whiskey offered to you, taking a long needed sip, “Thanks, Ada, i'm y/n I/n-”

“Shelby.” Ada corrects, a light smirk plastered on her face as she sips on her own glass of whiskey.

“Oh don’t worry, darling, you’ll be hearing ‘Mrs.Shelby’ all the time, it’ll stick.” an older woman speaks, smirking at you, standing next to Ada, sipping on her champagne.

Ada then speaks up, gesturing over to the woman beside her who looks you up and down, “This is Aunt Polly.”

“If Tommy ever lays a finger on you, or even says or does something horrible, you come straight to me.” Aunt Polly added in a strong womanly tone, “I’ll sort the man out.”

You and Ada let out a light chuckle.

“Pol, you’re making him seem like he’s fucking crazy!” Ada states.

As you’re in a commotion with the two shelby’s, drifting the worry caused by the Spanish off your mind, giggling whilst drinking, your older sister and your 5 year old niece, walks over to you. Your niece then smiles up at you, embracing you, you lift her up, and let her nuzzle into you. Your sister leans over and whispers in slight worry into your ear. “y/n, I don’t know where (uncle’s name) is, (younger brother’s name), (older sister’s husband’s name) and (male cousin) is looking for him, Mum’s just told me there’s unwanted guests here, I think it’s the Spanish.”

As she speaks your smile falters, the two Shelby’s notice the change of your dementor and how panicked your older sister seemed. “Is everything alright, loves?” polly asks, her happiness now being replaced with concern.

“I- yeah…” you mutter out, staring at your sister in disbelief, you then look around the hall, downing the rest of the whiskey and putting the glass down, “I saw a couple of them…”

“And you didn’t think of telling us?” your older sister says, in a more lecturing tone, backing up, so she can see your face.

“I-” you try to reason, but judging on the look on her face, you knew there was no point, you look around the room, trying to spot any of the Spanish, or anyone involved with them.

“What's going on?” Polly now questions more seriously, Ada now backing her up.

Your sister turns to face your in-laws, “There's uninvited guests here, some of our enemies...”

Polly's face darkens and Ada's brows rise.

Polly then turns her head looking around and then her gaze lands on 3 young lads. She takes a couple of steps across the room.

“Mum?” one of the younger lads, seeming the eldest out the three, furrows his brows up at polly, and then eyes you and the others around you, “Is everything alright?”

“Micheal, I want you to go to Tommy and let him know there's unwanted Spanish guests here, enemies of the l/n foundation.” Aunt Polly states in an authoritative tone, “Isaiah, Finn, just keep an eye out for the Spanish.”

All three boys nod and does as they're told.

The door to Thomas' office gets swung open, revealing a panicked Micheal, “Tommy!”

The Shelby gangster looks up from the paperwork, a string of smoke releasing his lips, he promised to polly that it would take only a couple of minutes, yet has been stuck in his office for half an hour, “Micheal, what's wrong?”

“Tommy, there's unwanted Spanish guests here, enemies of the l/n foundation.” Micheal walks towards his desk, eyeing the paperwork.

Tommy then stands up from his seat, stubbing his cigar out, placing his pistol into his holster, “Make sure everyone stays put, Micheal.”

Thomas leaves the office, Micheal following behind into the hall.

“John, Arthur!” He motions for the two to come over, joining your sister and niece, your mother, your auntie, polly, Isaiah, Finn ada, esme, Micheal and himself.

As the family has all came together, your mother begins to fill the family in on how no one knows where (uncle’s name) is, (younger brother’s name), (older sister’s husband’s name) and (male cousin) are looking for him as well as the fact there are unwanted Spanish enemies here, as guests.

Tommy looks around the group.

“Is everythin' alright?” Arthur asks his younger brother, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Where the fuck's my wife?” he spits out in protectiveness, his gaze darting around the room for his spouse. You're his wife now, you're his woman now, you're his responsibility.

“She was with us a moment ago.” ada blurts out, worry overtaking her body, worried for her sister in law she just grew a strong bond over.

“Where is she now!?”

“Who's that?” Esme states, motioning over towards an older lad, who's walking at a fast paste, across the dance floor, standing out, like a white crayon in a box full of black ones.

Everyone looks at the guy Esme gestures towards.

“John, Arthur, come with me. Everyone else, keep guarded.” Tommy then follows the older man with his two brothers following behind.

“Mum, she'll be fine, she's capable of anything.” your older sister wraps her arms around your mum's shoulders, assuring her you're fine. Polly passes her a glass of whiskey, knowing how the worry feels, as she felt the same when Tommy, John and Arthur went off to war.

“She's a strong woman.” your auntie adds.

“Auntie y/n the best!” your niece butts in, making the family chuckle.

Your fist meets one of the Spanish men's nose, causing him to stumble back into the wall holding onto his broken, bloody nose, a couple of the enemies lay on the floor, dead, blood covering your white wedding gown.

“You bitch!” a strong Spanish accent is heard behind you, causing you to turn and grab the wrist that was aimed at you, pulling the lad forward, putting him into a headlock, “Oh, I'm the bitch?” you sarcastically spit out, facing him towards the other man, him watching as you shoot the man in the headlock, dropping dead.

The guy with the broken nose looks at you in horror, horrified at what such a pretty, naive-looking woman could do, he clearly underestimated you. You're no naive woman, you're a woman with power and intelligence. In your eyes, no msn can own you, snd you'll make sure that Thomas Shelby's well aware of that.

Another bullet releases from your pistol, piercing the heart. He falls dead. As the bullet was shot, you get pushed to the side, harshly against the wall, getting pinned. You groan at the harsh contact. The man lifts his gun up. Unable to react in time, he wacks the gun across your face, face snapping to the right, pain shoots through, a few cuts begin to let out blood. Without being able to process what just happened, he punches you, your face snapping the other direction. You let out a painful grunt.

A cold, metal barrel meets your chin, face now tilting up, looking at him coldly and with deadly eyes, even though he could end your life in seconds.

“I knew you were sexy, but I didn't think that having you under me, with the ability to end your life in seconds could be sexier.” he growls out in a strong Spanish accent, “What should I do hm, darling? You've killed all the others.”

You stare up at the man as he looks you up and down, checking you out in the bloody white wedding gown with the stained veil decorating your head.

He then grinds his hips into yours, causing you to back yourself more into the wall, you've never felt so vulnerable, “Should I fuck you and then kill you, or just kill you, huh? What would your husband think when he sees you dead, my cum traveling down your legs?”

You close your eyes, not wanting to look at the older man, disgusted, “You dirty fucking bastard.” you mutter out, clearly not wanting to admit how you're in a dead end.

That earned another sack across your face, you whine out in pain, the gun barrel retuning to where it first laid. He clearly didn't like your attitude.

Bang.

part three coming soon!

dm to be added on the taglist!

taglist: @meadowshelby @iceyyycapsicle @lunxrstellx @jbrownta

[help-itrappedmyself]

Crimes and Punishments Part 2: Speedsters

Masterpost

“Why are we all here again?” The Flash asked Batman.  Batman just made a noise in response. Like a hmmph, that somehow insinuated that Flash should know the answer to that question. 

Robin hangs up the phone with this Danny person, and states that he should be arriving shortly. And he does, coming right through the window, gaping the whole way.

“Guys, I can’t thank you enough for hosting this meeting. And setting it up and everything, but mostly for hosting. Because my realm is slightly poisonous to you guys and because you’ve given me the chance to visit space! We’re in space right now, how awesome is that?! Can someone tell me all about this place later?” Danny rambles, as excited as Red said he would be. 

Red gives Bruce a smug look in response.

“You’re welcome, Danny.”

“Now that we’re all here.” Batman grunts and everyone starts taking seats around the table.

Danny sheepishly takes a seat at the middle seat facing the window. The three speedsters sit across from him, Bruce at one head and Nightwing on the other. Red sits next to Bruce and Danny, Robin sits next to Nightwing and Danny. Danny pulls out a few pieces of paper and a pen.

Once everyone is situated, Batman gestures to Danny. “You called this meeting, about some broken laws?”

Danny nodded solemnly, his aura becoming slightly darker and more oppressing. He faces Bruce, “Yes, I have on my council the ancients of time and speed.” He turns to the speedsters. “You have been accused of breaking Clockwork, the ancient of time’s, rules about interfering in the timestream. He has stated many instances that you have left your own time, changed the past, and changed the future. Unfortunately, in doing so you have also corrupted reality and interfered in more laws of my dimension in bringing back the dead.”

“I’m sorry, but who exactly are you to be the authority on time and speed and, what, the dead too? Who are you at all?” Flash asks.

“We were told you were King of an alternate dimension, how does our dimension affect yours at all?” Kid Flash asks.

“I’m not the authority for time and speed, those are members of my council. Clockwork has been bringing complaints to me about all of you for a long time, but it wasn’t until I started investigating the other matter-” He makes a gesture towards Red, who nods, “that I discovered that the main cause of these problems has been your meddling with reality. You have created cracks in reality, caused by the fracture in the space-time continuum, and these cracks opened your realm to mine, which is poisonous to yours by the way. Clockwork has been cleaning up your messes in the timestream, and now I have cleaned up the leaks, and there is patchwork being done on reality right now.” He checks the last few points on his paper, making marks for each correction being made.

“You have control over all of that?” Impulse blurts out.

“More like I have control over the people who control all of that. Mostly. I’m in charge of space!” Danny smiles wide, fangs out and aura glowing for a second. “Your main interference with Space is the fact that you broke holes into your dimension, but I’m not big on punishments. Speed, the one who gave you your powers, she said you’d met with her before?” Danny pauses and glances between the speedsters.

“We’ve met the Speedforce.” Flash states. “We don’t fully understand the Speedforce or how it works though.”

“Yeah, that would be her! Dani doesn’t take the time to explain anything, always places to be, you know? But, she presently doesn’t have any complaints. Which complicates matters for me. Clockwork is demanding that she take the gifts she gave you, your powers, but she is refusing.”

The speedsters, having tensed, all relaxed at that.

“But Clockwork demands reparations for all the damage you have caused, and all the work he has put in to correct your mistakes.” Danny shrugs in a what-can-you-do manner. “And you have each meddled in the timestream correct?”

They each confirm.

“Right. We’re going to have to come to an agreement on repercussions for your violation of time law and space law. Now, I can’t say for sure who did what, or how many times, and what damage in particular it caused, which means unless you want to fess up right now, you’re all going to receive equal punishments, on the assumption you each caused a third of the damage.”

“I did most of it.” Flash says immediately. “I was the first to get my powers, I didn’t know how to use them, or how badly messing with the timestream ends up until I did it multiple times.”

“But we all did it!” Kid Flash argues.

“I’m technically messing with the timestream right now.” Impulse mutters.

“You did it while learning too! At least you figured it out before creating something like Flashpoint.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Danny raises his voice over theirs as they start to argue. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” He rubs his head for a moment. “Now, mistakes are understandable, especially while learning new powers. So, in the future, new speedsters will be given leniency so long as you three take responsibility for teaching them the dangers and the rules. We will not punish those learning unfairly.”

The speedsters settle back down in their chairs.

“We can teach new speedsters.” Flash agrees.

“Wonderful! That burden is now part of your punishment.” Danny makes a note on his paper. “One of the main damages done, raising the dead in your alterations of the timeline, will at this point not be undone. From this moment on, everyone stays how they are. We don’t want to go around killing people for your mistakes.”

The speedsters start glancing at the Bats, not having known that was even an option.

“Thank you.” Red states on behalf of the speedsters. Danny nods.

“With that covered,” He looks back at his papers, shuffling through a few. “Clockwork has made an agreement with Dani, as punishment for abusing your powers they will be taken away-”

All the speedsters start to interject, but Danny lets out some eldritch features and lets his aura become more and more powerful and fear-inducing until they all cower back in their seats. Once they are quiet he continues.

“I have been informed that you are all heroes on this planet, so we have all agreed to call this community service. Based on how long you’ve been helping and a few other factors, we made this decision: you will each lose your powers for a total of two months, and then be placed on probation. If you continue to serve your community and use your powers for good, then we will have no further problems. If any of you mess with the timestream on purpose your powers will be revoked permanently. If it is an accident, your powers will be removed again temporarily, but for a time period yet to be determined, but that will be longer than two months. Do you understand?”

They all nod slowly, but the Kid Flash speaks up.

“What if they need us while our powers are gone? We do help, we have people counting on us, what if our teams need us?”

Danny gives him a smile. “The Bats, when I spoke to them about the situation earlier, were concerned about that as well. If you agree to this plan, and we agree to only take one of your powers away at a time, that way the other two can coordinate and help when needed.”

“Will I be sent back to my own timeline?” Impulse’s voice is small and quiet.

“No. Just like with the dead, what is done is done.” Danny makes sure to have eye contact with Impulse. “This agreement does mean you could never go back though, so if you did want to…” Danny trails off.

Impulse shakes his head.

“Okay then.” Danny checks his papers again. “Were there any more questions?”

He gives it a moment.

“Then I will take this agreement back to my people and make sure everything is set. Then we will need to set up a time frame for the removal periods. For now though, everything is done. Thank you so much for your cooperation!”

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

okay here's part 3! (still no dinner scene sorry, but we're slowly getting there!) (this is a long one heads up)

the post/thread that started this whole au

dinner scene: part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

there's a masterlist now!

*back at the palace*

penelope: i wonder how it went…

penelope: *starts walking toward the entrance for the palace gardens*

penelope: *notices odysseus running through the gardens towards the very same entrance*

penelope: *was concerned until she could clearly see a joyful look on her husband’s face*

odysseus: *sees penelope and heads towards her*

penelope: *notices and opens her arms for an embrace*

odysseus: *grabs penelope by the waist and twirls her around in the air* good morning wife, did you miss me?

penelope: *holding onto odysseus’ shoulders laughing*

penelope: good morning husband *leans down to kiss odysseus*

penelope: *looks him in the eyes with a smile* more than you know.

odysseus: *smiles back with eyes full of adoration*

odysseus: *goes in for another kiss*

*a while later after many more morning kisses between the two*

*penelope & odysseus now walking arm in arm back into the palace*

penelope: so, i’m assuming by the look i saw on your face, your friend agreed to dinner?

odysseus: uh yeah, surprisingly he did. no forcing or threats needed.

penelope: *hums and holds a finger to her chin in slight thought*

odysseus: *wondering what she’s thinking of* penelope?

penelope: *giggles and looks at odysseus* maybe you’re already more friends than you thought?

odysseus: *blinks repeatedly and then shakes his head*

odysseus: my love, trust me… the god of the seas and i are not friends

odysseus: *looks down in thought* after everything that’s happened, i don’t think we could ever be

penelope: *stops walking and turns to odysseus who has also stopped walking*

penelope: *holds her hand to odysseus’ cheek* i thought you said after all these incidents on the sailing trips with our son, that you had put that behind you?

odysseus: *leans into her hand and reaches to hold it with his own*

odysseus: *sighs* i- i have. i admit that while it’s a lot of fun being able to mess with him… all that anger & resentment i held has left me.

penelope: *gives a small smile*  

penelope: how do you know that lord poseidon hasn’t too? maybe he’s learnt to forgive?

odysseus: *thinks back to the moment he held his hand out to poseidon while on his raft, asking him the same question*

odysseus: … *blinks the memory away*

odysseus: yeah… i don’t think so, i tried that once already…

odysseus: *grabs both penelope’s hands* anyway! that doesn’t matter-

odysseus: *lets go of her hands and once again links his arm with hers*  what matters is… what the cooks have planned for breakfast!

penelope: *letting the subject drop for now*

penelope: *smiles* i don’t know about breakfast… but i’m sure that after you and our son’s fishing trip, i would say fish is the plan again for lunch *laughs*

odysseus: *laughs with her* yes, we certainly brought enough back.

odysseus: though speaking of our son. just how excited do you think he’ll be when i tell him the good news?

penelope: oh, i am sure he’ll be delighted! why don’t you go wake him for breakfast and let him know?

penelope: *unlinks their arms, turns and gives odysseus another quick kiss* i shall see you soon my dear husband

odysseus: yes soon, my lovely wife *watches her go down the hall until she out of sight*

odysseus: *turns to head the way to his son’s bedroom*

*odysseus arrives at the door leading to telemachus’ room*

odysseus: *knocks on the door*

odysseus: telemachus? are you awake yet?

*after hearing no response & no noise to signal movement*

odysseus: *gently opens the door and heads inside*

odysseus: *looks across the room to the bed and sees his son still fast asleep*

odysseus: *makes his way over, while looking at the walls covered tapestries of monsters, -also seeing ones he himself has faced- all slightly starting to fray from the years they’ve been hanging there*

odysseus: *sees the newest tapestry above telemachus’ bed -one he knows that penelope and athena had weaved together- the tapestry of him, penelope & telemachus also including a owl sitting on telemachus’ shoulder*

odysseus: *smiles* *gently sits down on the edge of his son’s bed*

odysseus: *reaches his hand out to stroke telemachus’ hair, like he would do when he was just a baby*

odysseus: *in a soft voice* telemachus, son it’s time to wake up

telemachus: *makes a small groan at being woken up*

telemachus: *voice heavy with sleep* father?

odysseus: *pulls his hand back & chuckles to himself at his son’s sleepy confusion* yes, it’s me, did you sleep well?

telemachus: *now slightly more awake* yeah, i dreamt of the dolphins we saw a while ago-

telemachus: *sleepiness long gone and now slightly excited* -did you manage to speak to lord poseidon?!

odysseus: *smiling at his son’s excitement* i did indeed

telemachus: annnnnd?

odysseus: he will be at dinner tomorrow

telemachus: *leaps forward at his father and hugs him* yes! thank you for asking him!

odysseus: *hugs his son back* i promised i would didn’t i?

telemachus: *lets his father go and gets ready to get of bed* i need to start planning for tomorrow-

odysseus: *laughs and stops his son from running off* yes you can, but later. first you need to wash yourself up and get down to dining hall

telemachus: how come?

odysseus: it’s morning remember? the cooks have made us breakfast and your mother is waiting for us to join her

telemachus: oh yeah! that makes sense.

telemachus: *gets out of bed more calmly* okay well i’ll wash up quick and be there shortly

odysseus: okay i’ll see you there *watches his son leave*

odysseus: *to himself* i guess i’d better make my way there mysel-

*a small breeze hits him and then a soft hoot of an owl sounds out*

odysseus: *turns to see athena in owl form sitting on the perch by the balcony, that odysseus had made for telemachus’ room*

odysseus: *hands on hips* so how come when i was young, you had me up for training everyday before sunrise, yet my son gets to lay in?

athena: *turns back into her normal appearance* good morning to you too odysseus

odysseus: don’t change the subject ‘thena

athena: *shrugs* what can i say? times have changed

odysseus: *drops his arms and laughs*

odysseus: *looks back to the (family photo) tapestry* indeed they have

odysseus: *looks back to athena* so, breakfast?

athena: *smiles* let’s go.. my friend

odysseus: *smiles back and then heads out telemachus’ room with athena*

[usomads]

Finisher // Roman Reigns x Reader (Pin Me Pt. 2)

Author’s Note -> Hiiii everyone! So many of you requested a part two to Pin Me, which again thank you so much for all the love on the first part. I honestly didn’t think of making it multiple parts when I first wrote this, but here we are and here it is lol! Happy reading!

Plot -> After pinning the Smackdown Women’s Champion in your mixed tag-team match with Roman Reigns, you gained popularity and with that your first singles title opportunity. You’ve never been more nervous for anything in your life, so your Tribal Chief helps ease your nerves before your match…

Pairings -> Roman Reigns x Fem!Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Cursing, Oral Sex (Fem!Receiving), Fingering, Gagging, Implied Smut, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.0k

(time skip to the first Smackdown episode after Saturday Night’s Main Event)

“I’ve been your Smackdown Women’s Champion for nearly five months now, and since becoming your champion I have proved that I am the irresistible force and nobody can take this title from me. Not Bayley, not Naomi, not Tiffany, and esp-” Nia’s promo was cut short by your entrance music hitting, the crowd rising to their feet and popping loudly for your theme. Since pinning Nia at Saturday Night’s Main Event, you had taken the WWE Universe by storm; your social media following went up, more and more people were recognizing you in public, you had gotten exactly the recognition you wanted all along- and it was all thanks to Roman Reigns.

Since last Saturday and your “celebration” post-match, you’ve grown closer to Joe. You were getting to know each other better, spending more time together, and what you initially thought was a one-time thing in the heat of the moment was clearly not. Joe got his hands on you every chance he could, it didn’t matter where or when, if he wanted you he was going to have you. And who were you to turn down your Tribal Chief? 

Now, you two hadn’t defined your “relationship” just yet but you both were perfectly fine with the way things were at the moment- taking things slow and really getting to know each other (among other things) before making anything official. You were doing pretty well for yourself; you were gaining more traction than before and you had a fine ass man to go home to- you had zero complaints with how your life and career were going at the moment.

You emerged from backstage, microphone in hand, as the crowd roared at your entrance. You signaled for production to cut your music, walking confidently to the ring as you spoke. “Now, Nia, I know damn well you didn’t come in the ring to talk all this mess about ‘no one can beat me’ after last week… did you hit your head too hard during our match or something because I,” you paused, signaling to the crowd filling the arena, “as well as the entire WWE universe remember very clearly that I pinned you last week at Main Event.” The crowd cheered in response, boosting your already high confidence as you smirked at Nia. “If you’re soooo confident you can beat me one-on-one, then do it. Put your title on the line next week and let’s see how much of a ‘force’ you really are.”

“Oh, Y/N…” Nia mocked you, “it’s so adorable that you think you’re a threat to me and my title. That win you got last week, pinning me? Was pure luck.” Nia stepped to you, with little distance between you too as she glared down at you, “But unlike you, at least I don’t have to sleep with anyone to get my main event spots, I work hard for what I have. Do that first, then come talk to me.” That wasn’t in the fucking script, is she serious right now? Oh, if she wants to improv, best believe I can too. You swung without thinking twice, using the microphone in your hand to hit her on the side of the head. It was time for a fight. 

You and Nia took turns trying to go at each other, both of you countering the other until she blindsided you out of nowhere with a hit that made you see double for a second. You knew you were done after that, feeling blood trickle from a cut on your head created by her. She continued to attack you while you were down, the crowd booing with every hit she delivered. After your body had slumped in the center of the ring she grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up, showing your beaten and bloody face to the crowd and cameras. “This isn’t fantasy, Y/N, stop playing pretend with Roman and go back to catering where you fucking belong.” She threw your head back onto the mat and exited the ring as security and medical personnel rushed to the ring. You dragged your fatigued body out of the ring and backstage, refusing treatment from medical despite their protests. You walked into the locker room Joe and you now shared, while Joe was screaming at someone on the phone.

“Nick, are you fucking kidding me? There’s gotta be some form of punish- I don’t give a shit what the higher ups thought about it, she could’ve seriously injured Y/N, I-,” Joe paused, turning around and seeing you enter the locker room, “I gotta go. This conversation isn’t over.” Joe hung up on the GM and rushed over to you. “Baby, are you okay? Did she hurt you? Have you gotten looked at by-”

“No, Joe, and I’m not going to. Just please, drop it. I’m over it.”

“Well, I’m not. Why the fuck would she even say something like that? How would she have known about us?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, Joe! Now leave it alone, seriously, I’m not in the goddamn mood.” You went silent, thinking about what you were going to do about Nia. You needed to do something different, something she would never see coming. Your priorities shifted completely after that segment, you now no longer wanted just the title. Your biggest priority, maybe even more than wanting the belt, was to beat the shit outta Nia Jax, no matter what it took.

“Babe, c’mon, you need to sit down. You’re gonna stress yourself into a heart attack if you don’t quit pacing around the room like that,” Joe was currently attempting to calm you down, you had been completely fine this past week you were training and promoting the match, but now that the show had officially started your overwhelming amount of confidence had completely vanished.

“Easy for you to say, title matches are second nature to you. Muscle memory. I  have never competed for a title before, I have every right to be freaking the fuck out right now, Joe,” you sighed. “It feels like everything just did a 180 degree turn, like I have so many eyes on me now and they all want me to beat Nia’s ass, and I just don’t know if I-”

“Hey, none of that. Y/N, look at me,” you slowly brought your head up to meet his eyes, the same ones that completely captivated your being just a couple weeks ago. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. That crowd out there knows exactly what you’re capable of, you know what you’re capable of, and I know what you’re capable of. I believe in you, baby, and if you can’t find it in you to believe in yourself then I’ll believe enough for the both of us. You got this, Y/N, I know you do.” Your heart melted at his words, the soothing and reassuring tone in his voice providing you some much needed comfort. 

“You still nervous, baby?” You nodded your head, looking down at your lap as he scooted closer to you on the couch. “I think I have an idea on how we can fix that. Do you trust me?”

“A-always, Joe.”

“Good girl.” He lifts your chin with his finger and passionately presses his lips to yours, resting his palm on the side of your face as you moan into the kiss. Your stomach flutters at his soft demeanor, feeling some of your nerves dissipate as his lips caress yours. He lays you down on the couch, hovering over you as he deepens the kiss. Breathless, he pulls away, leaning his forehead against yours and looking lovingly into your eyes. “You still feelin’ nervous, baby?”

“Y-yeah,” you breathed out, “a little less, but still pretty nervous.”

“I guess I’ll have to keep going then, don’t I?” His lips find their way back to yours, resting there for a moment before trailing along your jawbone and down your neck, leaving a few wet kisses at the base of your throat before continuing his path downward. Your breathing had picked up, and you were now looking down at him as his lips left a trail down your abdomen.

“A-are you sure we should… now? I mean, I have my match later and I-”

“Shhh, I promise I’ll be quick. Just wanna take care of you, help my baby out,” he muttered against your hip bone as he teased the lining of your ring gear you had been wearing. You sighed contently, leaning your head back against the arm of the couch and allowing yourself to relax into his touch. His fingers interlock in the lining of your bottoms as he looks up for you, asking for permission to remove them. You lift your hips off the couch, allowing him to slowly drag the material down your legs and throw them to the side. He snakes both hands up your legs, kneading the soft flesh of your thighs before splitting them apart and exposing you to him. Your body was so reactive to him- Joe loved how goosebumps would scatter across your skin at the brush of his lips or how your eyes would flutter closed and your eyebrows would scrunch together with just his touch, but most of all, he loved how how wet he made you without doing a thing to you. 

“Fuck, ma, always so ready for me,” you moaned loudly and bucked your hips, desperate for any sort of friction, “you gon’ have to be quiet for me, don’t want nobody to hear us, right baby?” You nodded and bit your lip, trying to hold in your cries and his fingers danced up the smooth skin of your inner thighs and through your folds, leaning down to make his face level with your core and presses a soft kiss on your clit before wrapping his lips around the swollen bud, nipping and sucking while he continues to drag his fingers along your slit before pushing a finger inside. His thrusts are slow, putting his focus on his mouth as he eats you with a burning intensity. His tongue works itself in ways that set your body on fire, the scruff of his beard along with it only adding to the sensation he’s giving you. The lip you’re biting to keep quiet is nearly drawing blood. You want to cry out, you want to moan his praises loud enough for the crowd inside the arena to hear, but you know you can’t so you continue to restrain yourself despite wanting to do the complete opposite.

He replaces his fingers with his tongue now, pumping it inside of you and using one to pin your hips down and the other to draw slow circles into your clit. This time you can’t help yourself; your clit is so sensitive that the second his fingers brushed it, you were done for. He pauses for a moment to remove his t-shirt he was wearing and you whine from the loss of contact, watching as he morphs the cotton material into a ball and hands it over to you, bringing his hand back down to your clit. “Bite down on this, since you can’t keep yourself quiet, I’ll make you.” You hesitate for a moment and look down at him, his features darkening and giving you a sly smirk before nodding his head. You bring the material to your lips before biting down on it, your senses being completely filled by Joe. He goes back to eating you as you moan into the cloth, the material successfully muffling your cries. Joe’s movements become more and more desperate, moving his tongue and fingers faster as he can sense you’re close. You can’t stop your moans now, saliva drooling from the corner of your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer to your release. Your legs begin to shake and Joe, noticing you were close, dives his head deeper into your pussy, trapping you with his mouth. Your eyes squeeze shut as you inhale, breathing in his scent and cologne you were using as a gag, triggering your own orgasm. You came on his tongue hard, shaking and moaning into the fabric of his shirt as he laps up your juices like an animal deprived of water. You even your breathing and throw his shirt back at him, the both of you laughing as he crawls on top of you.

“Oh, you wanna throw things at me do you? I might just have to teach you a le-”

Joe was interrupted by someone knocking on the door to his locker room. “Excuse me, Ms. Y/N? It’s almost time for your match, we need to head to Gorilla to finalize some things real quick.” You both sigh, him getting off of you as you put your bottoms back on in a rush. You make a run for the door to hurry and get to your position, but he grabs your arm to stop you. “You still feeling nervous?” You smiled at him and shook your head, going to thank him but getting cut off. “Good luck out there, baby. I’ll be waiting for you in Gorilla for you to show me that new title,” he kisses your cheek and you blush.

“Thank you, Joe, for everything. I mean it, I wouldn’t be doing this without you.” He gives you a soft smile and ushers you out the door, as you prepare yourself for possibly the biggest match of your entire career.

“Ughhh,” you groaned as Nia dragged you from the center of the ring to the corner, preparing to give you an Annihilator and win this match. From the jump Nia had punished you, much to the crowd’s distaste. It seemed like everybody in the arena had been behind you and you felt it, right up until the bell rang and she started throwing heavy combinations your way. You managed to sneak in a couple pieces of offense but none were convincing enough to give you any sort of edge. Nia got on the ropes, and performed the move. She remained seated on you, trying to get the pin. 1… 2… kick out. You pushed her off of you and sat on your heels, gripping your side. Jesus, my fuckin’ ribs. 

Finally to your feet, you unload on Nia as she laid on the ground. Kicks, punches, springboard moves, you threw the whole arsenal but each pin attempt gave a 1 or 2 count, and never close calls. You knew deep down you were going to have to do something completely insane to get this win, so you start stringing things together to get it done. You start by giving her a drop kick to send her to the outside, following her out, then throwing her into the steel steps. You dragged her by the hair to the announce table, laying her on it as you ran to the ring and climbed to the top rope. You made sure everyone near the table had cleared before crossing your heart and doing a senton, landing on Nia as the table and collapsing along with it. You could tell that Nia was nearly to the breaking point, so you mustered all the energy and strength you could to drag her back into the ring and climbed to the top rope once more. You hit your finisher, but wasn’t satisfied. You wanted no doubts, so you climbed up and hit it again, straddling her shoulders and hooking your arms around her legs. The arena was so loud you could barely hear the ref’s count. 1… 2… 3… ‘Here is your winner, and the NEW… WWE Women’s Champion… Y/N!’

You couldn’t even process what had just happened, all you wanted to do was get the hell out of that ring so you snatched the title from the ref and escaped. You slowed down when you made it to the stage, clutching the title in your arms and looking down at it with tears brimming your eyes. Your knees felt weak, and your heart was beating out of your chest. You did it. You triumphantly raised the title in the air, tears starting to fall as you smiled and took the moment in. After the cameras had cut and you had taken a few pictures with fans, you walked backstage only to be greeted with cheers. You made your way to everyone, getting pictures, hugs, and everything else in between before locking eyes with the man you wanted to see ever since your hand was raised. Joe. You practically ran to him, jumping into his arms and wrapping yours around his neck, hugging him tightly. He spun you around and smiled from ear to ear. 

“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, baby. You had a helluva match out there, I knew you had it in you,” he kissed you sweetly right there, not caring who was watching as you grinned widely. “Now, let’s get you home,” he winked at you, setting you down before whispering low in your ear.

“We’ve got some more celebrating to do tonight.”

[gingersxng]

Who’s Afraid Of The Big Bad Wolf pt.2

Pairing: f!reader x Mingi (ft. Yunho)

Genre: smut 18+, angst

WARNING: this contains abusive and inappropriate stuff that may be triggering or disturbing for some people. if you decide to read further then you’ve been warned!!

Notes: consensual until the end, sub!reader, mean rough dom!Mingi, big dick!Mingi, Mingi is violent, soft!Yunho, Yunho isn’t Mingi’s friend anymore, abusive relationship, possessiveness, lots of crying, cutting, mentions of SA, lying, pussy play, fingering, taking pictures, drunk!Mingi, breeding kink, perverted actions, blood, bruises, hickeys, unprotected sex (don’t), abusing, manhandling, Mingi calls reader whore, lamb & slut, slapping, dacryphilia, kissing, anxiety, depression, self harm, eating disorders, cum cum cum, degrading, spitting, slapping, may have forgot something!

a/n: finally able to post something, I may have went a little hard on this one but messed up minds creates messed up stories..

part one here!!

Words: 2.4k

This freaky toxic roller coaster had went on for a few months now, everything was the same as it always had been, it was part of your daily life now.

But not for everyone. Your friends got concerned when you kept disappearing all the time when they’d invited you to parties, dinners, shopping dates etc. Mingi always had his grip on you even though he wasn’t there, he always texted or called you when you were doing something that didn’t involve him.

Your friends followed you home one day. Mingi was gone for the weekend and you were all alone. Since they knew Mingi wasn’t there they wanted to talk about your so called “situation” but it only made you roll your eyes at them. You were tired of everyone having an opinion but yourself, everyone else’s opinions mattered but yours don’t, like it’s always been. That’s a reason you’re in this mess, because no matter how hard you’d try, you’d never received love, understanding or respect.

“Pls y/n, you have to understand he isn’t good for you.” Your friend Ella said. “I mean look at you! You’re bruised up, you’ve got fresh cuts on your thighs and you’ve become thinner again.” Your other friend Belle said and put a hand on your shoulder. You looked down at your bruised knees, you almost couldn’t hear what they were telling you, the noise in your head was being too loud.

“I love him…” you sniffed, a little tear rolled down your cheek. Anger was beginning to fill your body up, that was your response to everything, ever since your early traumatic experiences began. “We just wanna help you, we care so much about you and we’re worried” Belle said. You got up from the bed and looked at them both with teary eyes, your fists were curled up along your sides. “If you take him away from me… the only person I’ve felt loved and respected by, I’m ending this friendship right here!!” Your voice trembled and the tears flowed. The two friends looked at each other and then at you who once again disappeared right in front of them, you went out to get some fresh air and to clear your mind.

Before Belle and Ella went home they told you one last thing, they didn’t want to hurt you but they knew you had to find out yourself one day. “I think he should be arrested y/n…I’m not sure what he’s doing to you but it’s not okay” Ella said with a lump in her throat knowing it would hurt you more to hear that.

You spent the whole weekend locked up alone in your room crying, the pillows were stained from all the tears. It all felt hopeless, and yet no one cared about you being all alone 48 hours without getting out, not even your mom.

A buzzing sound from your phone woke you up after you’d cried yourself to sleep, it was Yunho, another good friend of yours but why did he try to reach you?

Yunho: Hi y/n! You alright? :)

You hadn’t been in contact with him for super long, and now all of a sudden he texts..

Me: Hi, I’m fine thanks :)

Yunho: Really?? I heard you weren’t.

Me: Who told you that, I’ve never been better.

Yunho: Belle and Ella texted me and said you’ve been spending too much time with Mingi and they wanted me to check on you.

Me: I’m fine, really! Don’t worry about me okay!

Yunho: Okay, just know that I’m here, deal?

Me: Thank you, deal!

“Of course they had told someone else, why drag in more people into this” you thought to yourself as you yet again began to cry.

Next day you got startled by a knock on your bedroom door. Your first guess was your mom who finally would come to visit you but instead you were met by a tall muscular, black spiky haired man. He looked at you with the same lust filled eyes and a smirk on his face, just like he always do.

Gasping, you looked up at him, but before you could get out a word he slammed his lips onto yours and forced you down on your bed again, he roamed your tiny body and placed his knee between your legs. Mingi nibbled on your earlobe and whispered “I heard you’ve told your friends about me..” your heart dropped to your stomach and you turned cold.

“It’s not what you think Mingi” you cried out. “Oh really, I heard I was gonna be arrested for SA?!” He growled in your ear, the words cut through you like a knife. The two of you stared at each other for what felt like eternity, it was almost as if your whole life flashed before your eyes, every experience you’ve been through. Mingi pushed his knee harder against your heat, waiting for you to say something, explain to him.

His eyes spotted the red lines on your thighs. “I see you’ve been playing with the razor again, my little slut” he caressed your fresh cuts. “Not talking huh? Maybe I have to fuck the words out of you, how about that” he growled, his cross necklace dangled inches from your face, you gently grabbed it and looked him straight into his dark eyes. “If you promise to change.. like they said” you softly spoke with a lump in your throat. “They wanna have you arrested Mingi..” you cried. If you only knew how much anger and rage was buried inside that man, he was about to boil over at this point. He was scared for getting caught but most of all he was scared of loosing you the most, sure he never showed his affection in any other form than rough sex but deep down he actually loved you. You’re the only girl he’d been with the longest, other girls were nothing more than air the morning after. Mingi bit his inner cheek and let go of you, he stood at the end of your bed and just stared down at you. You sat up, a little shocked by his sudden act, you dried your tears and fixed your top. “If you want me to change.. I will” he said with pain in his deep voice. “I don’t want you to change, they want it”.

A smirk slowly formed on his face, the hot blood pumping through his veins rushed down to his dick, it strained uncomfortably against his pants. He pushed you gently down onto your back and hovered over you again, making your heart skip a beat. One of his hands went down to cup your heat while the other one held him up so he wouldn’t collapse on you, he put some pressure on your pussy and you let out a moan. Just what he wanted to hear. Slowly he began to rub your clit through your sleeping shorts, he loved the way you closed your eyes and bit your lip.

“Right, you don’t want me to change” Mingi teased as his speed increased on your clit. “No I don’t mmh” you moaned. You laid spread out in the bed like a doll as Mingi abused your sensitive nub, the heat in your stomach was building up fast and you were almost at your peak of pleasure. He plunged two fingers into your pussy, his thumb continued rubbing your clit. Mingi absolutely loved watching you fall apart under him, no matter what nasty stuff he did to you, it always got his dick rock hard.

“Haha.. are you gonna cum for me, my little lamb?” He purred, smirking at you. “Pls Mingi I’m so close” you whined, you squirmed. He gave your thigh a hard stinging slap making you jolt, his big hand grabbed your chin and brought you in for a rough sloppy kiss, his long thick fingers pumping max speed into your gushy hole, curling them up to hit your spot. You moaned and cried into his mouth as you finally came on his fingers, a deep chuckle escaped his mouth when he felt your juices coat his digits.

After he was done with you he gave you a peck in your lips and went for a towel to get you all cleaned up, he never did something like that, he would never stop after he’d been fingering you. “What‘s all this?” You asked raising your eyebrows. He held the towel in his hands and gave you a smile, “Didn’t I say I would change?” He let out a small laugh. You couldn’t really believe your ears, someone couldn’t possibly change in just one day could they?

He got you cleaned up and even stayed for some cuddles afterwards, this night was really something new and special since you’d never get this kind of affection from your boyfriend, it almost felt fake..

It was past midnight when you’d fallen asleep in Mingis arms, he slowly rolled you over so you could lay down comfortably in your bed. Only when you landed down on your back your pyjamas top had rid up revealing your tits, he gulped and palmed his dick through his pants. All he wanted was to rip your shorts off and fuck you until you got knocked out but since he’d promised you he would change.. he couldn’t do that to you. Instead he took a pic of your naked sleeping form and tucked you under the covers before he headed back home.

Mingi told you he would get better for you only but your friends kept on telling you he was still an asshole to you and even his friends, you also knew it was all just a bunch of lies. His friends were nice to you, you loved them all. Especially Yunho, he always cared about you in the beginning of yours and Mingis “situationship”, but Mingi soon noticed you were getting texts from Yunho a little “too” often and forced you to cut the contact with him.

Mingi had kept his promise for about two weeks now and you still couldn’t believe it, it felt so different, it felt wrong yet right. Everything had been a dance on roses until one night when he went too far. It was a party like always but it was your first since a while because of your health and Mingi was drunk as hell and started quickly to get rough with you. You didn't know what to do, it was so sudden. He’d dragged you along with him to an empty room and threw you down on a dusty couch. He had a different look on his face this time and you actually got scared, as he gripped you harshly, placed marks all over your tiny body you began to cry. He lifted your legs up and pulled down your panties in a quick motion, he then unbuckled his belt and pulled out his leaking big cock.

He parted your pussy lips and spat down a big lump of saliva, he brought his aching cock to your entrance and didn’t give you time to adjust at all. “Take my cock you dirty whore!” He slurred, he began his abuse on your cunt and cervix. You couldn't push him off, your whole body felt light like you were non existent. You just laid there crying. He was yelling at you for no reason, he spit out all the bad and mean things about you he could possibly think about and for a second it felt like you died. What lasted 15 minutes felt like hours. You felt numb and used, you felt so stupid..maybe your friends were right after all.

Mingi came hard leaving a big load inside your pussy, it poured out down your ass cheeks, he slapped you across the face. “Look at your pretty pussy” he swept a hand across your clit. You cried more. “You’re only a fucktoy for me to use, to breed”.

Mingi fixed his pants and left the room to go party some more, leaving you full and bruised on the disgusting couch.

Everything went through your head as you laid there, how could you be so stupid, how could you accept this behaviour after all this time. He was lying…

You managed to grab your phone. You dialed the first number that came to mind.

You felt a tear fall down your face.

"Hello?"

"H-hey Yunho..."

"Hey y/n! How are you?"

"I- I'm fine..."

"Are you sure? You sound a little upset."

"Yeah I'm ok."

"Ok, if you say so. So what's up?"

"Uh I- well... can you come get me? Please?"

"Oh yeah sure! Are you at the party right now?"

"Y-yeah..."

"Ok give me like 10 minutes and I'll be there."

"Thank you Yunho..."

"No worries y/n. Bye."

"Bye."

You hung up and couldn’t hold in your tears any longer. It just flowed now. You waited a little longer, then you heard a knock on the door. Your heart dropped, he’s back.

"Mingi! Its open!"

The door opened.

"Y/n? What's going on?" Yunho asked with a worried look, watching you lay in front of him with your bottom half completely naked.

"Yunho help me please. Please!" You cried.

"W-what?"

Yunho rushed over and saw the bruises and marks on your body. He couldn’t stop looking at your cum covered pussy, his ears turned a dark shade of red.. but enough of that.

"Shit! Are you ok?!" His voice were soft.

"It hurts. I don't wanna do this anymore." You looked at him with red eyes, trying to cover yourself up with your shaky hands.

"Ok. Ok. Let's get you out of here."

Yunho wrapped his hoodie around your waist and picked you up bridal style and walked out of there. He put you in the car and drove away.

You woke up the next day with a terrible headache. You looked around and realized you were in a room you didn't recognize.

"Morning"

You turned to the door and saw Yunho.

"Yunho..."

"Y/n Please. Why are you with him? He is bad news."

"I- I... he said he'd get better."

"He won't."

You looked down.

"How long has this been going on?"

"4 months..."

Your voice trembled.

"Why didn't you tell us? Tell me?"

Yunho sat down on your bed and caressed your hand.

"I- I thought he could change." You sniffled.

"He won't."

"Yunho. Please. Can I stay with you for a while? I can't go home."

"Of course. Stay here." He smiled.

"Thank you."

[traffytaffy]

OP Men and “confessing”

Ft. Law, Kid, Zoro

Hey! I was not expecting how the last post was going to go. So thank you so much! As promised, i made a follow up. Im sorry it took so long as well….i hit a writers block😙

So consider this part 2 to this post!⤵️

OP Men and being “told” they are in love with you

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Law;

This was an accident. An accident in which he wanted to throw Shachi, Penguin, Ikakku, and Bepo overboard.

You were ordered to organize medical supplies in the closet that was connected to the room he was in. You kept the lights off cause the light of the room Law was in lit up the closet so you could see just fine.

The group barges in.

“Captain, we dont know where your little crush is at. Have you seen them?” Penguin teases while asking curiously.

Law’s face goes cold. His eyes widen and his mouth opens and he does a “knock it off” motion with his hands.

“What? Your hands fell asleep?”

Law sighed.

“They’re right there.” He pointed at the closet door where you slowly walked out, a blush spreading to your ears at what Penguin had said.

Bepo, who was behind the rest slowly backed away. Law scowls at them. They knew where this was going. They have no chance to defend themselves before his fingers go up.

“Shambles”

~

You are left alone with Law. His eyes couldnt dare to meet yours.

“Dont listen to what they sa-“

“Is it true?” You interrupted him with slight hesitation.

His eyes finally met yours. He didnt have to say anything for you to understand what those yellow orbs were saying to you. And most of all, he knew he couldn’t lie to you at this point.

“Yes…” he says softly.

“Like….wise?”

He gasps softly and immediately looks up. His feet move on their own as he was no longer in his chair, but instead right in front of you.

“You mean that?”

You nod. More sure than anything.

Law leans close to you… he didnt know if what he was thinking was the right choice. Every little thing he did was thought for. It all had a plan, no matter how small it was. But there were rare occasions of impulsiveness…this was that occasion…He decided to take that risk.

His hand cups your cheek, your lips were caressed by back and forth swipes of his thumb.

“May I?” He asks, you can hear the boost of confidence in his voice behind the loud beats of your heart.

You don’t hesitate for once and nod. When your lips go crashing into one another, you can feel a few pair of eyes watching at the edge of the doorframe. They had somehow ran all the way from where they were sent so they didn’t miss the show. Law doesn’t pull away from this moment. A moment he waited ages for. But he does lift his hand up.

“Uh oh”

“Shambles”

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Kid;

“Huh?” You raise your eyebrows at his declaration towards Killer. “What did Killer do?”

You had a soft look in your eyes. You were worried that you had done something or that you were unwanted in his workshop right now. “I can leave..”

“No,no. Stay.” Kid said with his usual rough voice but it had a hint of softness in it.

“What did you need me here for?”

“For nothing.” He said bluntly.

His lack of answers and short responses was making you feel stupid. Did he want you here or not? Frankly, you were starting to get a bit annoyed.

“Are you trying to mess with me or something?”

“What? Why would i do that?” He says as he turns back and does sketches for an upcoming design for some new machinery.

“I don’t know. You’re busy right now and killer sends me in here just for you to say you don’t need me! Did you want company?”

“No.”

You scoff. Kid notices his behavior and decides to tone it down.

“I-i mean yes. Company… sure”

You roll your eyes.

“Im leaving.”

But before you can walk off, a calloused and warm hand catches your wrist. A calloused and warm hand lifts your chin to meet his gaze. A calloused and warm hand cups your cheek. A calloused and warm hand goes behind your head and pulls you closer.

He studies your face. Making sure you were aware of what he was going to do. Making sure you were comfortable enough for him to proceed. When you give a slight nod, his red lips crash into yours… it was soft… testing-out-the-waters kind of soft until he decided to really get into it.

It isnt when he pulls away and you look up at him in shock that he gives you a smug smile.

“You can go now.”

You smile and begin to walk away, but before you do, you look at your face in a nearby reflection. Your lips had his lipstick stains and you look back at him.

“Damn. You need some kiss-proof lipstick”

You wipe the red smears off your lip.

“And you need to go to hell.”

But he did what you suggested. He bought kiss-proof lipstick…for you.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Zoro;

The crew was all gathered at the table for breakfast. A usual routine in the morning. But….everyone was at the table except you and Zoro.

Nami thought she hit jackpot with your late appearances. She leaned over towards Sanji and whispered in his ear. Sanji listened intently and did multiple “uh huh”’s in agreement before his eyes widened.

“HE’S WHAT!? ZORO’S IN LOVE WITH-“ He shouted out in which Nami quickly covered his mouth just in time.

“Shut up idiot! Thats why we’re asking for your help!”

“I’ll do it. Just to see y/n reject him” he smirked devilishly.

Nami face palmed and Robin giggled.

Soon enough, the plan was whispered to the entire table, and as soon as she sat back down, you walked in with Zoro right behind.

You sit down, Zoro right next to you as Sanji served breakfast. But just like Nami’s plan… and a touch of his self. He swooned over you. Every compliment in the book was thrown at you. You couldn’t help but blush and thank him.

Zoro on the other hand? He was fed up.

He could only take so much. But once he saw that Sanji was getting to you? He slammed his fist on the table, stood up, and faced Sanji, face to face.

“You trying to do something cook?”

“Like what? Serve my fellow crewmate?”

“You know damn well-“

“Why are you so mad anyways? You in love or something?” Sanji snapped back with a mocking tone at the end.

“Oh im going to end you!” Zoro unsheathes one of his swords.

“Try me!”

Zoro and Sanji both position themselves to fight each other. You stand up and get in between them.

“Enough! Sanji! Zoro! What has gotten into you?”

Zoro walks out the room with a huff. Everyone is left silent. You look around,a bit embarrassed before dashing out the door to catch up with Zoro. The cool breeze of the wind hits you as your eyes dart around the ship. He wasn’t in the crows nest. Not at the railings. Where was he?

But suddenly you can hear the sounds of knives sharpening. You turn the corner and see the green-haired man you had come to admire and love. You see him sitting in a corner, sharpening his blades. He can feel your presence and he immediately turns away.

You walk up to him and sit down.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Don’t play dumb”

He sighs, knowing he couldn’t run away from this. He literally couldn’t run away, considering they were in the middle of the ocean and he was too tired to throw himself overboard at this point.

“Why were you so defensive of me over Sanji?”

“Don’t play dumb” he repeats the words you had told him just a minute ago.

He places a hand on his heart and then with that same hand reaches to your chest and touches your heart. He gives you a look that says “do i have to say it out loud?”

Your eyes widen in realization. Was he saying that… he was in love with you? There was no doubt about it.

“Oh i see.”

Your short response made him scoff.

“Just forget it”

You notice that your reaction was getting to him. You had to fix this. You had to let him know that this wasn’t something to easily dismiss. Your hands instinctively reached out to his heart. His shoulder became a resting spot for your head. And his ear was all you needed to voice through to him.

“Im not.”

He softly gasps as he looks down at you. His face revealing a blush of a tomato.

“Shut up”

And all you do is giggle. Cause you..only you knew there was alot more care and heart in those words.

[moralesluvr]

IDFC 2 | BILLIE EILISH.

୧ ‧₊˚ part one is posted !!

pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. happy ending this time | kissing | angst & fluff author's note. hello this was request by a few peeps so here it is !! word count. 1.3k ish ?!

tomorrow has come. and if you were being honest with yourself, you felt like a mess.

the mid day sun cracks through the open blinds when you’re awoken to the sound of birds chirping and your music softly playing from your alexa. your bedroom is tranquil— but it’s cold and quiet. you have goosebumps running up and down your exposed skin when you look at the clock realize it’s already three in the afternoon.

usually billie would be awake, slithering into your room like usual to sit on the foot of your bed and sing to you or rant about any and everything. and of course— you’d prop your head in your hands and listen attentively as you talked for hours on end. but she doesn’t come, and it’s abnormal, so you wrap yourself in a blanket and sneak through the door, “billie?”

her name hangs in the air like it’s a burden, and there’s no response. it’s pin-drop quiet in your apartment and it makes you cringe, because it’s never this silent. and even if billie wasn’t home, she’d always tell you where she was going.

confused, and a little downhearted, you slide your feet against the hardwood floors and enter your kitchen, popping a pod of hot cocoa into the keurig when your eyes rest on a sticky note that’s plastered onto your favorite mug.

“needed to clear my head. i’m hungover as FUCK!

love you. be back soon. — billie.”

you nodded even though she wasn’t there, folding the sticky note and placing it in your hoodie pocket. your lazy eyes watch as the hot cocoa dispenses into your cup— the warm, chocolatey liquid nearly filling your pink mug to the brim.

it was only your favorite because billie bought it. just like everything else you owned that you took a special liking to. it made your stomach twist when you realized that your whole life was encompassed by her. everything you did was for her gaze, you longed for her, ached for her, and it was sick and twisted and crazy but you were crazy for her, and it just felt so damn right.

you’re curled up on the couch now, sipping at your drink, even though it burns your tongue everytime you swallow.

it reminds you of billie. you can’t help but bask in her presence everytime you see her, and even though it burns to love her— it hurts you so bad, you’re addicted to her. and it’s not her fault necessarily, because she doesn’t even know, but you’re not sure you can do this anymore.

it’s been years, what could possibly go wrong?

you’re stuck, that’s the issue. you haven’t even told anyone about this not-so-little crush, and you feel like there’s only one person on this entire planet who’s close enough to billie to give you raw advice, but also has been in love with the same person for years and years on end.

it’s so stupid, you think, and your hands start to shake when you pick up your phone and open your contacts app, your thumb hovering over the number.

finneas.

but you feel like there’s nothing else that you can do, so you click the ‘call’ button and it rings out a couple of times, and you almost pray and home that he doesn’t answer the phone. but of course, finn being finn, he picks up. and speak of the devil, claudia’s in the background.

“hello?”

“hi y/n!”

“that’s claudia.” finneas’ laughs echoes through the phone, “what’s up, kid?”

you suck in a breath before adjusting your position on the couch to get more comfortable, “hey…i just really need some advice right now, because there’s some shit i’ve been dealing with for so long and i feel like i’ll explode if i don’t say something.”

finneas makes a little “mhm” sound to acknowledge your statement, and there’s a moment of comfortable silence on the phone when he begins to speak.

“i’m listening. well— me and claudia, is that alright? if not, i’ll kick her out.” his tone is joking, and you giggle across the line, “no dude it’s alright.”

“okay, we’re all ears!” claudia laughs, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i…i think i’m losing my mind,” you admit lowly, but laughing bitterly to play it off. “it’s about billie.”

“billie?” finneas questions, his tone more serious now, and there’s a little bit of surprise laced with worry in his voice. claudia’s gasp is audible through the phone and you squeeze your eyes shut, already regretting saying a single word.

you can’t even respond, you just bite your lip as your eyes flood with tears. you let out a quiet sob and claudia and finneas say nothing, but you can’t even blame them because the situation just slapped them in the face.

but when she finally speaks, claudia’s voice is gentle, yet coaxing. “what happened, y/n?”

“she came home drunk last night.” you whisper, your eyes stinging with more vulnerable, unshed tears. “she apologized for being a mess, for making me deal with her shit, and all i wanted to do was grab her and tell her she’s not a mess, that she’s perfect, that i don’t care about anything else as long as she’s in my life. but i couldn’t. i didn’t. and now i’m just sitting here, losing my mind because i don’t know what to do anymore.”

“how long has it been?” finneas inquires this time, and you throw your head back and let out a dragged groan when the realization hits you.

“it’s been almost six years of this shit, dude.”

“six?!” claudia and finneas speak in unison, sharing a loving giggle afterwards. but they know that this is serious and very upsetting to you, so their laughs quickly subside and they leave you with a second of silence before finn speaks.

finneas sighs. “y/n, have you ever considered…telling her?”

you let out a harsh laugh, wiping at your wet eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie, “and risk ruining everything? yeah, no thanks. i’d rather suffer in silence than ever tell her.”

“but what if she feels the same way?” claudia offers gently, her smooth voice soothing to your nerves, “you won’t know unless you talk to her.”

“i know she doesn’t,” you respond quickly, shaking your head even though they can’t see you. “she doesn’t feel the same way. she’s billie. she flirts with everyone. she kisses people like it’s nothing. i’m just…i’m just her best friend.”

you’re so caught up in your spiral that you don’t hear the front door open. you don’t hear the soft creak of billie’s jordan’s against the hardwood floors. you don’t notice her until she’s standing in the doorway of the living room, her face pale, her eyes wider than saucers.

“holy shit.” billie says, her voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t think i was supposed to hear that…but um…y/n?”

your heart stops.

everything feels so surreal right now that you’re not even sure you’re breathing. you want to cry, but no tears come. you want to scream, but your mouth hangs agape, lacking sound.

you don’t even move, you just stare hard at billie like she’s foreign to you— because she is now. the secret that you’ve kept from her for so long is now out, and she didn’t hear the watered down, bullshit version that you would’ve told her yourself— she heard the words raw, and there was nothing that you could do to make her forget.

she takes a step closer, her hands trembling as she shoves them into the pockets of her hoodie. you can tell she’s nervous too, and her face is so discolored she looks like she could throw up. she picks at the skin on her lips before she speaks softly, so softly you can hardly hear it. “are you… in love with me?”

you glance at the phone, still connected to finneas and claudia, and without another word, you reach over and end the call. they’ll understand— and claudia already texts you before you shut your phone completely off, your hands are shaking as you stand up, your knees threatening to buckle under you.

there’s no point in lying now.

“i— um…yeah.” you breathe, silent tears falling down your cheeks as your eyes bore into anything but billie. but billie stares at you, her chest rising and falling like she’s trying to catch her breath. “y/n…i— w-why didn’t you tell me?”

you laugh, but the sound comes out bitter and sharp, “well…because you’re you, billie. you’re the most important person in my life, and i didn’t want to risk losing you. i thought…i thought you’d never feel the same way, so i just ignored it.”

she’s quiet for a moment, her gaze dropping to the floor. when she looks back up at you, her eyes are glassy, her voice trembling, like she’s scared too.

“but i do.”

your breath catches in your throat, and you feel like you’re gonna puke when billie speaks. your heart sinks but not in a bad way— it’s just so surreal to you. she felt the same way?

“w-what?” you stumble over your words, in disbelief, “are you sure?”

“i do.” she repeats, taking another baby step closer to you, eyes locking with yours, “and i’m sure. i’ve loved you for so long, y/n. i just…I didn’t know how to deal with it. i thought i was too much, that you deserved better than…this.” she gestures to herself, her voice breaking. “so i drank. i flirted with other people. i tried to hide it, but it never worked. it just made everything worse.”

tears are streaming down your face now, and you take a shaky step toward her. “billie…”

she closes the distance between you in an instant, her hands cupping your face, her thumbs brushing away your tears. “i love you,” she whispers, her voice raw. “i’m sorry it took me so long to say it. unironically…years.”

you giggle, but you don’t have time to respond before her lips are on yours, soft and urgent, and it’s like everything finally falls into place. her hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer as you kiss her back with everything you’ve been holding in for what felt like eternity’s.

when you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, her forehead resting against yours. “you’re not a mess,” you murmur, your hands tangling in her hoodie. “you’re perfect, billie. you always have been.”

she smiles through her tears, her arms wrapping around you like she’s afraid to let go. “i’m so sorry,” she says softly. “for everything. please, don’t ever let me let you go.”

you let out a small chuckle as she holds you,

“don’t worry, i won’t.”

[nicholaschavezobsessed]

I Need a Doctor

dr. charlie mayhew x plus size f! reader

18+ MDNI

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, patient in coma, not proofread.

word count: 1,219

should i write a part 2?????? ( i have started on pt. 2 it was supposed to be finished today but i have to delay due to a pet emergency. but it will be out this week ! )

pt 2 here ^^

————————————————————————

As soon as you received the call, you hurried to the hospital, pushing past the nurses who were trying to stop you from storming into the patient's room. Your hand immediately catches hers as you fall beside her bed, tears streaming down your cheeks. All eyes were on you, a mess on the floor beside your sister's bed, the room falling silent except the beeping of the monitor.

After a few seconds past, seconds really feeling like minutes, you glance up at the curious eyes focused on you. You stand up, clearing your throat, wiping the mess of tears off your face. “How is my sister doing?” you mumble quietly as you look at the doctor.

He sighs softly to himself as he runs his hands through his hair and looks down at the ground to avoid your focused stare. "Since someone dumped her off here last night, she hasn't progressed. The bright side is that we were fortunate to reach her at that time, or otherwise." You glance at your sister's condition again, your body churning with rage as she lies there, unconscious.

You move from her side to stand in front of the doctor, your finger accusingly piercing his chest, glaring at him as his words reverberate in your mind. "What are you not doing more of? Is there nothing else you can do? Your tone a mixture of sadness and anger.

You are brought back down a level by his powerful hands gripping your shoulders. "Y/n, we are doing everything we can, I promise.” You were shaken out of your thoughts by his gentle yet firm tone. Your finger slides off his chest as you let out a sigh. “I'm sorry, but she's all I have. I can’t lose her too.” You shake your head as your hands rub against your face, pushing your glasses slightly up.

————————————————————————

An hour later

After gathering your composure, you find yourself sitting in the cafeteria, eyes bloodshot red as you sip the coffee you don’t even remember fixing. Ever since the hospital called you, everything has been a blur, you’re not even entirely sure how you managed to drive here. Your eyes flutter shut, thoughts erratically running through your head, wondering how this even happened. There’s no way your sister just fell and hit her head.

You're startled out of your thoughts by the sound coming from the chair opposite from you. The physician who was responsible for your sister's treatment ended up across from you. You eventually glance him over, no longer consumed by rage. His eyes are piercing brown, and his hair is unkempt and deep brown. He clasps his hands together in front of you, a smile spreading across his lips.

“How are you feeling y/n?” a solemn tone to his voice as his eyes never once leave yours. You look into the now-cold coffee in your hands and shrug your shoulders. “I don't know if my sister will ever come out of her coma. So, tell me, Dr. Mayhew, how do you think I’m feeling." You scowl at him, the sarcasm leaking from your lips.

He throws up his hands, a laugh escaping his lips. “Sorry, I was just checking on you…” he utters softly, causing you to slightly crack a smile. “My apologies, Dr. Mayhew” you mumble the last part as you inspect his name badge. “It’s just…. hard to know that the only person you have left is in that state.” You take a deep breath and run your unsteady fingers over your hair. With a comforting hand on your shoulder, he pulls his chair closer. His eyes are fixed on you as he fades off, "I understand, I wish there was more I could do for you." You swiftly shuffle in your chair, turning your body to his.

"Not to burden you with all of this." Holding a hand between you, he interrupts you. "Go ahead; this is just a part of the job." His tone of voice has a tinge of sincerity mixed with sternness. "Well, my brother, sister, and I were the only ones growing up. It's terrible that my brother no longer speaks with us, but that isn't the point. Despite our age difference, my sister and I have always been close. The idea of her leaving my life is unbearable; we've been through everything together, so I never really envisioned it. Was she perfect? God no. But she’s all I have, and I’ll be damned if she leaves me.” You finally glance up, his eyes locked on you, causing your cheeks to flush.

His hand squeezes your shoulder, a soft smile placed on his lips. “I promise you; she’ll be okay. I will do everything I can.”

————————————————————————

Days turn into weeks, your sister still not showing any sign of getting better, but no sign of getting worse either. Each day without fail, Dr. Mayhew was there to comfort you in the cafeteria, always turning your sad days into bearable ones.

"So, Dr. Mayhew, tell me." He swiftly cuts you off. "Please, call me Charlie." You clear your throat, your voice slightly wavering. "So Charlie, tell me, do you do this with all your patients loved ones?" He leans back in the chair, glancing you over carefully, paying extra attention to the way your pants cling to your thick thighs. "Only the ones I think deserve the consoling."

"Oh? So, you think I'm worthy, Charlie?" As you see him observing you, you draw closer to him, your breath catching in your throat. His gaze gently moves up your body, taking in your voluptuous, thick waist. "Yeah, I think your worthy." You stand up and tug at the cloth that is stuck to your thighs as the room seems suddenly heated. "Excuse me." Without even glancing back at him, you dash to the closest restroom. You try to cool yourself by splashing water on your face while resting your glasses on the sink's edge. Wondering what the fuck is wrong with you, your hands resting on your plump cheeks. "He's your sister's doctor; you can't think like this." You place your glasses back on, images of him hovering over you, white shirt unbuttoned, that gold cross necklace dangling from him. You push those thoughts in the back of your mind as your swing the door open and step out, the cool air hitting you suddenly blocked as you connect with someone's body.

"Fuck, I am so sorry." You scramble over your apologetic words before a hand comes to rest under your chin, lifting your head to look at them. "If you wanted to be against me, all you had to do was ask." Charlie, smirked down at you, watching the color rise to your cheeks.

You stammer, over your words before backing up, gently pressing yourself against the bathroom door. "Charlie...." With cautious approach, he places his hands on either side of your head to stop you from moving. He leans down, lips grazing against your cheeks, causing everything else to fade away leaving only him and you in this moment. "Say the word and I'll leave right now, because I won't be able to control myself around you if you keep looking at me like that." His words send shivers down your spine, your breathing quickening as you consider his words. Fuck it.