#he read me and wore a coat today

[canirove]

[navybrat817]

In a Red Dress

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has to debrief after a mission, so you decide to stop in for a visit. In a red dress.

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Established relationship, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, flirting, teasing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Happy FriYAY! I started this in January for @tumblin-theworldaway and finally finished it today. Love you, Aqua! I hope you can relax soon. Could be considered a follow up to With a Bang. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Your heels clicked along the floor as you left the elevator, reminding yourself for the umpteenth time that it wasn't Bucky’s fault that his team extended their mission for another day. Unforeseen circumstances were to blame, completely out of his control. You also couldn't hold it against him that he had to debrief after he messaged you that he arrived back home safely and unharmed. It was part of the job. Still, you missed him and wanted a bit of attention.

Which was why you showed up at S.H.I.E.L.D. in a silky red dress and Bucky’s dog tags under your coat. No bra, no panties. Which he realized when you walked into the conference room, unannounced, and removed your coat.

It was fun to put the fire in his steel eyes.

“Welcome home, Bucky,” you smiled as the room went silent. “Don’t mind me. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Your burly boyfriend was out of his seat and didn't tear his gaze away from you, the tension thick as you tossed the coat away. Today was a good day for your self confidence. You wore it like a second skin, feeling as beautiful on the outside as you did inside. You knew you looked good enough to eat and you wanted him to devour you.

And as much as you loved him in his black shirt and tactical pants, it hid the wall of muscle you wanted to trace with your hands and tongue.

“Hey, baby. Fancy seeing you here,” he said, his eyes dropping to your chest. Your nipples hardened against the fabric and you wished he’d latch his mouth to them. “And speaking of home, I thought I was going to meet you there.”

Your shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I got impatient since you were late. Plus I wanted to show you my dress,” you said, doing a happy twirl. It was reminiscent of New Years. The soft fabric hugged your body tight like your black dress did, but this one left little to the imagination. “What do you think?”

Steve, ever the good friend, averted his gaze, but a scowl crossed Bucky’s handsome face when you both realized that other agents looked your way. You hadn't expected to be the center of attention for anyone else, but it didn't matter to you if others looked. Why would you want them when Bucky had you under his spell?

At least they were smart enough to look away when Bucky’s metal hand clenched.

“Well? Do you like it? I thought the dog tags were a nice touch,” you added, running a finger along them when he remained silent. “They really do go well with everything.”

“Come here,” he said, beckoning you with a metal finger. You knew he meant business when he didn't use his dominant hand. “Now.”

You maintained an aura of innocence as you walked toward him, watching him his lips as your hips swayed.

“I can see your nipples through your dress,” he said low enough for just the two of you, but poor Steve with his enhanced hearing likely picked up on it. “And I’m pretty sure I didn’t give you permission to wear a dress like that in front of other guys.”

Any other guy who said that to you would've been smacked, but hearing it from him only made your eyes fill with amusement as you tilted your head. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to wear this, Sergeant.”

“Baby,” he whispered. You knew what calling him by his rank did to him.

“I should be able to wear what I want and when I want to. We both know that,” you continued, sliding your finger down his chest instead of poking it like he expected. “But you have my permission to break someone's fingers if they try to touch what belongs to you. Because I do belong to you.”

Your declaration fueled the fire within. There was no hesitation on your part. No doubt. And after being apart for a short time, you wanted him to hear you say you were his girl.

“Yeah, you do. You’re mine,” he said with a raspy touch of confidence that would’ve soaked your panties had you been wearing any. “And I’m all yours, but I still need to debrief.”

You huffed, but the conviction in his tone was admirable. “Fine. I’ll just wait here,” you said when he frowned. Both of you knew the classified information wasn’t meant for your ears, yet no one spoke up for you to leave. Were they afraid of pissing your boyfriend off? “You know, I really do love that grumpy look of yours. It gets me so wet.”

Bucky’s cheek twitched when one of the men coughed. “You're being a fucking tease.”

“Is it teasing if I let you have me?” You asked, tapping your chin. “Teasing you would be letting you go to bed with blue balls.”

Wordlessly, he lifted a hand and clutched the dog tags. He yanked on them hard enough to move you closer, his eyes not leaving yours when you gasped and shivered from the heat-filled look. You considered it a win that you didn’t collapse. Because he was going to destroy you and you’d love every second of it.

“Be very careful what comes out of your mouth next, baby,” he warned.

You smiled, more than ready to give him one more push. “I’m more interested in what’s supposed to go inside my mouth.”

His nostrils flared when you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue and throat. He put a hand on the back of your neck and tilted your head back, lightly nipping at your skin below your jaw. “I should put you on your knees and fuck your throat in front of everyone. Or put you over my knee and spank you ‘til you squirm. Show ‘em that you really are mine.”

You giggled, a soft and tempting sound. “Why fuck my throat when my pussy is nice and wet for you?”

“Gentlemen. I think the Bravo Conference Room is available. Let’s finish this up there,” Steve announced, his chair scraping against the floor and pulling you out of your spell. “Told you that you should’ve just gone home, jerk.”

“Fuck off, punk,” Bucky said, keeping a firm hand on you so you couldn’t look at any of the men filing out. The smirk he gave you was nothing short of predatory once the door clicked shut, leaving the two of you alone. “Since you need my cock so badly that you can’t wait until I get home, bend over that table and let me give it to you.”

Your giggle quickly died in your throat when you realized he was serious. “You’ve never fucked me in one of the debriefing rooms. Someone could walk in,” you reminded him.

Yeah, you showed up wearing what you did. Yeah, you teased him. But it was all in good fun. He wouldn’t actually fuck you on the table.

Right?

Your cheeks grew hot at the next words out of his mouth. “You think I give a shit about if someone walks in?”

He let go of your neck and grabbed your wrist, carefully dragging you to the table. You loved every part of him, but something about his unashamed want of you made your heart soar. Maybe it was because of how much he healed and allowed himself to have a piece of happiness. That some part of him from his past, the man he used to be, surfaced and blended in with who he was now.

Heaven sent and survived the depths of Hell.

“Now, I should spank your ass raw for this little stunt you pulled. Letting them see you in this dress,” he said without any real threat behind his words. “But I won’t do that until we’re home.”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled, expecting him to bend you over. But he brought a hand to your cheek instead. “Bucky?”

His gaze moved to your lips as he murmured, “Not fucking you until I kiss you.”

His mouth met yours not in a frenzy, but with a smile. The kind that told you how happy he was to be back with you. It wasn’t long before he shifted, the hand on your cheek slipping to your chin so he could deepen it. The soft slip of his tongue ignited your entire body, feeling his heart beat faster as you brought a hand to his chest. A reminder that he was alive, home, and loved you.

You loved him, too.

Your eyes stayed shut for a few seconds after he pulled away. “Missed you, Bucky,” you whispered.

“Missed you, too,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “Now bend over.”

The air rushed from your lungs at the switch from want to tenderness to need, your chest pressed against the table as he pushed your dress. Part of you wondered if he would’ve made good on his threat and fuck you in front of the other agents. He liked to toe the line of wanting to show others you were his and not wanting them to see intimate parts of you.

Which made you wonder what he’d do if someone walked in. He said he didn’t give a shit, but would he stop and try to cover your body with his own? Or would he keep fucking you?

You wouldn't mind either way.

“Spread ‘em,” he ordered, which you immediately obeyed. The low whistle made you shut your eyes before he dragged a finger along your exposed slit. “Didn’t even bother covering your pretty pussy with underwear. Probably best since you would’ve ruined them with how wet you are.”

“You’ve ruined all of my panties, Bucky,” you said, the distinct sound of his belt buckle and pants zipper making you moan. “And I’m ready for you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? Your pussy ready to stretch around my cock?” He asked, making you shriek when he unexpectedly brought his flesh hand down hard on your ass. He only used the metal when you were in real trouble. “You better not have fucked yourself with a toy before you got here.”

“I didn’t! I haven’t even touched myself,” you promised before he stretched over your back. “I just need you in me.”

“That’s what I like to hear. And though you interrupted my debriefing and I may need to stab a teammate or two, you’re still my good girl. And good girls deserve rewards,” he growled in your ear, nipping it for good measure as you moaned. The head of his cock teased your entrance, your core clenching in anticipation. “I’ll fuck you and you’ll come all over me, just like you want and just like I need. And you’ll take it ‘til I’m done with you.”

You reveled in being his good girl, even when you were bad. How no one else could take his cock the way you could. How he made you soak your sheets day and night with your essence because being fucked by Bucky Barnes made you gush like a geyser. It was obscene.

“I’m your good girl and I’ll take everything you give me,” you said sweetly, knowing he’d fuck you whether you said it or not. “So let my pussy welcome your cock home, please?”

The soft kiss to your neck was almost like an apology before he pushed into you, both of you moaning. He’d check later to make sure you weren’t sore since he didn’t stretch you at all, but the slight ache when he bottomed out always bordered more on pleasure than pain. The overwhelming sensations of him inside you made your eyes roll back and he hadn’t even started thrusting.

“So fucking warm. And wet,” he grunted in your ear when he finally moved, his pants rubbing against your bare thighs. “Jesus fuck, you’re soaking me.”

Bucky robbed you of your breath when he leaned up and gripped your hips, hammering into you. You tried to grip the table, but all you could do was let him pull you back and forth. He was relentless like this, powerful, dominant. Making you take it, just like he said you would. Funny how minutes ago you were the one confidently teasing him and now you were a whining, needy mess. All because his cock shut your brain off.

You didn’t need to think like this anyway. You could be his doll, just for him to play with and love. In your pretty red dress or nothing at all.

“Harder, Sergeant,” you begged, your moans spurring him on.

“Not hard enough for you? Needy little thing,” he groaned, the sound of him burying himself inside you over and over echoing in your ears. “Missed this cunt. Missed you.”

Your pussy gripped him tight, the heady bliss making your vision blur. “Missed you. M… Missed your cock,” you slurred.

He chuckled, not slowing his pace as he leaned back down to tickle your cheek with his scruff. “So fucking cute when you get drunk on my cock.”

You wondered some days where he learned to talk dirty before you remembered that you had a large hand in that. He loved telling you how greedy your pussy made him. How he loved watching his spend slide out of you so he could fuck it back in. How he’s shocked some days that he can fit inside you, so he must’ve turned you into a perfect cocksleeve.

His cock made your mind numb, but your pussy made him run his mouth.

“Gonna make you sit on it when we get home. Fuck, gonna make you ruin the sheets when I fuck you into the mattress,” he rambled, making you moan louder. You didn’t care who heard. Let them hear what he did to you. What he turned you into: his needy slut. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you moaned, his thrusts pushing your breasts harder against the table, your nipples hard and aching for him to touch them. He would later. You could wait. But you couldn’t wait to fall over the precipice. “‘M gonna come.”

“Do it. Won’t stop you,” he encouraged. He no doubt felt how close you were with how you clenched around him, your back starting to arch. “C’mon, baby. Come all over me.”

Your eyes fluttered as your body tensed, your walls pulsing around him your orgasm surged like a tidal wave. The ripples tore through you, ebbing and flowing as you moaned his name. If you could drown in pleasure, you’d want his name to be the last word that spilled from your lips.

“That’s my girl,” he praised as your limbs went lax.

You throbbed around him until he pulled out, making you whimper since he didn't come. You wanted him to finish inside you. He had you on your back with your legs spread wide before you could beg for it, keeping your dress up as he speared you once again. He thrust fast, needing his release just as badly as you needed yours.

“Need to see your face when you milk my cock,” he grunted, licking his thumb and bringing it to your clit. You whined, jerking underneath him as he rubbed the swollen nub. “Oh, stay still. You can give me one more.”

You almost denied him before you felt the coil tighten within you again. You never thought you could have back-to-back orgasms until you started sleeping with him. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. He played you like his favorite instrument and you were his good girl.

You could give him one more.

“Come with me,” you panted, staring into his darkened eyes as his face twisted in ecstasy only you could provide him. “Please.”

He couldn’t resist that last bit of begging.

The waves crashed again, adding to your first high, as his mouth opened in a groan, filling you in hot spurts. Watching him tip over the edge was a sight to behold, his cheeks tinged as his hips stilled and both of you tried to catch your breath. He laid across you after a moment, the weight of him making you sigh.

“Welcome back,” you smiled as your breathing evened out.

He stayed inside you as he brushed his lips against yours. You were going to make a mess all over the table when he pulled out, but it was worth any grief either of you got. “Good to be back,” he whispered, his hand on your cheek again in a tender display as his eyes scanned your face. “So beautiful.”

“Me fucked out or the dress?” You smiled.

“Both,” he smiled back, your face warm.

“Thank you,” you breathed, your heart still racing fast. You suddenly wished you were in bed so he could properly hold you. But he’d have you home soon enough for that. “Hope I didn't get you into any trouble,” you added. That was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Steve gets it,” he assured you, briefly closing his eyes when you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry we got back late. He’s right. I should've just gone right home.”

Your heart clenched a little at that. Missions were important and not easy on either of you, but it was his job. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you made it home safely,” you said, arching your back. The table wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were too fucked out to care.

You also didn't want to be apart from him since he was back.

He wrapped an arm underneath you to ease some of your strain. “Still teased me by showing up like this. I might fuck your throat and put you over my knee tonight,” he groaned, squeezing a breast through your dress before he straightened out the dog tags. “But then I’m going to hold you after and not let go.”

You smiled, looking forward to it. “Yes, Sergeant.”

And you'd be sure to thank Steve later for clearing out the room so you could welcome your man home.

Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business! Hehe. 😇 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[messenger-of-babel]

Cracks in The Bedroom

Summary: You've never seen Jay crack before, but when he starts it's more broken than you realise. (Arkham Knight! Jason x reader)

Word Count: 2.7K

Notes: RUSHED EDITS. This is a touch late cause of work so I'm a few hours behind (it's like 12:45am rn). I tried to use game Arkham Knight Jason since I am not 100% across knowing all the nuance for this one and didn't have time to pre-read for it. Warnings for manipulation of story and plot to serve my own selfish devices. Otherwise, back to writing Jason again. Enjoy! (Forgive me for the shambles today but I hope it feeds you regardless)

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You couldn’t tell what had drawn you to Jay when you met, or really what had held you together throughout the last year. He was secretive, he was snappy, and he had anger issues through the roof. He’d blow up at the smallest of things, get stressed and crack within a second. You knew he had trauma; you could see it in his eyes. The way that those baby blues burned with a cold fire, a gripping malice keeping him moving each day. It was written over his skin; in the glimpses of scars he wore that he never let you touch. It was imprinted on the J cut into his cheek, and the way he turned his face away whenever he caught you looking at it.

He disappeared every night and came back beaten and blue, shrugging you off angrily when you try to comfort or tend to his injuries. He wouldn’t tell you where he was, pushing past you with a glare to lock himself in the bathroom. His hands would shake as he walked past you, knuckles clenched and fuse lit. His pain was his kindling, and every night you saw him go to burn himself again. 

People told you that you were crazy, and maybe you were. He wasn’t the best partner, hardly able to give you what you gave back. But you didn’t want to give up on him entirely, not when you could hear the soft sniffles coming from the bathroom late at night, the wavering in his eyes when you ask to give him a hug. His eyes flickered with the urge to give in, a bitter longing you knew all too well, but his mouth formed the words ‘don’t you try’ with a venomous tone that had you retracting your arms to your side every time. 

You loved him despite it all, a soft tenderness whenever you looked at him despite how your brain screamed at for you not to. However, you didn’t know if you could continue your life like this. That’s why tonight you were going to break it off, to free yourself from the man who seemed like he’d rather do anything than stay with you. However, when you come home from your restaurant shift, (not that it was much of a shift with the city being evacuated), keys jangling in the stuck lock, your determination falters.

He is shocked to see you as well, eyes widening and pacing coming to a halt when you enter the living room. Like a deer caught in the headlights he stares at you, fingers twitching nervously. You have a sharp intake of breath as your eyes scan across his body, taking in the suit that clung to his skin. His face had a cut and a new black eye forming on his right side, lip split and beginning to scab over. However, what you were more drawn to was the bat like cowl held loosely in his left hand, and the triangle like logo emblazoned on his chest.

It all makes sense to you now, and you step back at the realisation. You miss the wince that flickers over his face when you fall back from him, his eyes narrowing.

"If you tell anyone, you're dead." he hisses. It scared you, breath hitching in your throat. You shake your head, closing the door quietly behind you.

"I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm not going to hurt you." you try to stay calm and approach him, but he begins to pace again.

"Like you could hurt me," he scoffs. "You wouldn't even get a chance."

The sneer he sends your way is coated in venom, digging into your heart with needle-like teeth. "What are you going to do now?" he gestures around. "Now that you know? Do you have questions? demands?" he laughs out, but the sound is dry and angry.

"Are you-" you begin, but he waves the helmet towards you aggressively.

"Am I what? the Arkham Knight? a monster? a killer?" he spits out, eyes burning with rage. "Use your eyes, sweetheart." he sneers, tone mocking. "Of course, I am."

"Are you okay?" you finish softly, trying to reach out your hands for him. He stops for only a moment, tensing with confusion. Then he's back to being the Jay you know, harsh and abrasive. he shakes his head, muttering to himself.

"Like you care, like you care!" he grumbles, throwing the helmet to crash against the wall. "You don't care. You just want something from me. You all want something from me." he hisses, breathing beginning to quicken. You shake your head, trying to keep your body language calm so he knows that you mean no harm. Your fingers burn with the urge to grab him softly before he hurts himself, but you know it would probably end up with you crashing over a table. "I don't want anything from you. I want you to be okay, can we just talk?"

He sighs but doesn’t say anything else, jaw clenched as he turns his head away. You'd been around him long enough that you took it as an invitation to get closer.

You managed to lead the both of you over to the couch, sitting with a space in between you both. "Jay, please tell me what’s going on." you ask softly. Your head feels like it's spinning with the information that your partner (you weren't sure if you two ever really became official) was the Arkham Knight that you had only heard rumours of floating around on the sparsely populated streets. As far as you knew he was going after Batman, but it was all rumours.

"Are you...are you injured cause you're fighting the Batman?" you ask softly, wanting to get answers to those rumours without triggering him further. His fists clench in his lap and for a moment you think you won't get past the stone wall you can see him building, but after he exhales, he nods once. You worry the skin of your lip between your teeth. You never really had a problem with Batman. He was doing more for your city than the corrupt police on the street, and despite him being a vigilante and not bound by the rules of the law, you couldn't deny that his presence made you feel safer in your own home.

"Why?" you press softly, hand hovering out. He flinches the close that you bring your hand, but eventually he lets you place your hand over his. Your skin thrums with the contact, something you had been deprived of for so long. His calloused hand warms under your light touch, and he tilts his hand softly till his palm tilts up. He allows your fingers to creep down lower, until you lightly intertwine your fingers with his.

"Because..." he chokes out, and you can see the way his throat bobs. Your heart races a little with panic, never seeing this side of Jay before. You never saw him get upset, only angry. The blinking of his eyes to fight away the tears was new, and the way he hung his head in such defeat. It made you feel like you were watching a pitiful boy wearing the skin of a much older man, and your thumb stroked his hand softly. "Because this was all his fault. Everything. He gave me this..." he whispered out, the rage seeping back into his voice and other hand gripping his knee tightly. His gloved finger points to the 'J' carved into his cheek, and his breathing quickens when he looks you in the eye.

"The Batman did that?" you ask softly, but he shakes his head violently.

"No." he snaps. "But he let someone else do that. He lets someone else cut me and-" he cuts himself off, breathing irregular as he stops to take a big heave. His lips tremble and he tries to keep himself together. He hated this. The anger that he fuelled into tormenting Bruce was draining into despair.

He hated the way you looked at him, with those big eyes that begged him to spill all of his deepest fears to you.

He hated the way his name sounded on your lips, even though you didn't realise that it was only a nickname, not his real name.

He hated the way how his body seemed to buzz under your touch, blood rushing under his skin.

He hated it because he felt that if he let himself surrender to it, if he let you in, that he would never be able to go back again.

"Please Jay," you beg, eyes pleading. "Please just tell me what's going on."

"It's not Jay." he croaks out, hanging his head. "It's Jason." he raises his eyes to meet yours, pitifully looking through his hair. "Jason Todd."

Your hands fly to your mouth, unable to stop the short gasp. You feel a chill run through your body, freezing you to the spot on the couch. "You mean the Jason that-"

"Went missing?" he scoffed. "Yeah. That's what they he wants you to believe. It doesn’t change the fact that he left me there." The man you now know as Jason raises his voice, standing to his feet with hands clenched by his side. "Batman abandoned me!" he shouts, voice deepening.

You jump, seeing the way that his eyes darken. "Jay-"

"Jason!" he shouts, whirling to you. "Don't play the perfect life now. I know it's anything but." he hisses at you. "You were planning on leaving me too."

You falter, and that's all it takes for him to bring his hands to his hair and grip at his face. "I knew it." he spits out. "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it."

You jump to your feet too, indignation rising in your tone. "That's because I don't even know what we are!" you protest back. "We live together but we don't speak, we sleep in the same bed, but we don't touch. I'm tired of not knowing if you even like me back!" you yell, beginning to feel the anger in yourself rise up.

"You're just going to abandon me too!" he yells, face growing red and eyes growing panicked. "You're going to leave me, just like my father!" his voice cracks at that, and he almost doubles over as he staggers backwards. You shake your head, confused.

"You don't make any sense, Jay." you groan, tears prickling at your own eyes. Jason lets out a half scream of frustration.

"Bruce! Bruce left me with him in there and never came looking." He cries. You can see the war in his mind as he struggles to get his breath back, pupil’s swallowing his eyes until the pricks of blue disappear. You know it's bad when you hurry to him ang grab his wrist, getting no response from him. he didn't try to push you off, or flinch as your hands circled his trying to hold him still.

"Bruce? you said Batman left you there. Bruce looked for you! I remember the press statements!" you plead, heart beating frantically and unsure what to do to help. You were so used to him being cold and abrasive, so distant and aloof that to see him break down like this was eerie and panic inducing.

"They're the same! it doesn't matter!" he shouts, breathing getting irregular. With a strong push you manhandle him back down onto the couch, tilting his face up so you can ease his quickened breaths. "All that matters," he swallows thickly trying to get his bearings back. "Is that he left me. and you will too. Now that you know. Now that you know all of me."

You feel the heart thudding in your neck, pulse beating against your skin. You sink to your knees, tears finally falling over your lashes. You head drops until your arms are on his knees, forehead pressing into your skin. You sob softly, defeat weighing in on you. You weren't sure if you could pull him out of this hole that he had dug himself into. If the web of lies he had been spinning had been strung too tightly around your heart and had cut off the circulation. You felt tired and overwhelmed with what he had told you, mind feeling fatigued.

He was no better around you as you reached up to grip his hand, squeezing it. You can't get your voice to say what he wants to hear, can't find the words that will take the paranoia away. You don't know how to get close to him when he keeps lashing out and pushing you away.

 He can barely keep air in his lungs, and his mind is unsure where to focus, but he tries to focus on anything but you at the moment.

Rage?

He was good at that. It made him feel alive, like he had a purpose.

Sadness?

He had already spent enough of his life in sadness, wasting away in that cell when he was locked in Arkham.

Pain?

Jason Todd had endured enough pain to last him several lifetimes over already.

His lips tremble as words pass past them, half conscious as he says them. If he had a better control on his emotions, he would have kept them down like usual, traded them for some scathing remark that would make hurt ripple across your expression.

"I used to be Robin."

You just look up at him blurrily, and he can see in your eyes that you’re scared of him and his sudden vulnerability. His heart aches, but he knows it’s a pain he deserves. He did that to you, made a good impression on you at a bar once and then signed you up for hell, refusing to let you go.

He guessed he and Joker were alike in some ways after all. Yet he continues.

"He left me. My father never even came looking."

With each word it's like a catharsis on his soul, chasing away the shadows that were wrapped around him. He had been out tonight, hunting Bruce. He needed to go out again soon, once he had licked his wounds clean and known that the damned Bat hadn't found his hideouts. he had selfishly kept you around despite the evacuation, and only now was he starting to regret it.

As he gazed down at you, he could see more of him in you than her would like, the fragile hope in your eyes already webbed with cracks.

Had he really done this?

Contrarily, you stared up with a soft kind of pity. This was the Jason that you never got to see, the one that got out of bed in the middle of the night to go for a walk and come back with red rimmed eyes. The one who made the quiet sniffles behind the locked bathroom door, the one that hid his scars from you not out of anger, but out of shame and embarrassment. His eyes flicker between your face and the hand that you begin raising, until it strokes along his cheek. He has the urge to pull away, to flinch, but he lets your fingers ghost just barely across the skin. He understands your silent ask for permission and accepts in by gently turning his face into your hand.

A small smile flits across your face then, filling in the cracks that had formed in both of your hearts. "I won't leave if you won't" you whisper, and his breath begins to even out. Maybe you were an idiot. Maybe you were deluded. Maybe you were just dumb in love.

"I don't care about everything that you think is going to scare me off," you say softly. "If you...if you promise to try with me, I'll try with you too. I won't abandon you, Jason," you say, using his full name. It feels foreign on your tongue, but you like the way it makes the corners of his lips twitch upwards. "If you won't leave me behind either."

That night was the first time that you saw Jason Todd smile, and unbeknownst to you, it was the first time in years he had even tried.

[1800-fight-me]

Crybaby

Old Man!Logan Howlett x Female!Reader Rating: M (Mature but as always-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, crying, not much else Word count: A little over 2k Synopsis: Taking care of an ailing Charles and pining after Logan is exhausting and crying about it seems to be the only solution.(Set before the events of Logan) Author’s note: This is just two thousand words of me expressing how much I love Logan.... please enjoy P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Main Masterlist

You were sick of being a crybaby, really - you were. 

But you couldn’t help it as your throat closed up and your eyes filled with hot tears. 

You couldn’t help it as the torrent of emotions within overwhelmed you. 

Rushing into your room and shutting the door behind you- isolation your only solace but also the knife in your heart. But you couldn’t let Logan see or hear you cry. 

It had been a rough day altogether. 

Caring for an ailing Charles was challenging on his best days and miserable on his worst. And today was one of those worst days. 

The disease in his brain turned the normally kind and gentle man into a confused, desperate person who could say the most vicious things to cope with the hell of it all. 

At times, when the medicine wore thin and you frantically practiced barely there patience as you waited for Logan to bring a restock, Charles could read your mind. It wasn’t the way he used to, more like he got flickers of your internal monologue. And he used it against you. 

“You ridiculous girl, he’s never going to love you, you might as well give up,” he said as he glared at you. 

They shouldn’t have, but the words hit you like a dagger in the heart. 

“Charles, please just let me help you get in the bed. Aren’t you tired?” you begged. 

“He resents you, just like I do,” the elderly man said. 

The dagger twisted. 

You took deep breaths but couldn’t prevent the tears that filled your eyes. 

“Charles, that’s okay, let’s just get you to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning,” you coaxed, certain that desperation and pain were evident in your gaze. 

A flicker of the old Charles appeared as you saw regret flash in his eyes. 

He let you assist him in settling into his bed. 

“I hate it here,” he said, his voice petulant in a near childlike way. 

“I know,” you said gently as you pressed a kiss to his forehead and pulled the blankets up to his chin. 

The door behind you opened and you breathed a sigh of relief as you heard the sound of Logan’s shuffling gait. 

“Hey,” you breathed out as you looked over at him. 

Everytime you saw him it took your breath away, like a punch in the gut. He was beautiful in a way that hurt, the kind of beauty that felt too far from reach. 

He walked up and without a word pulled Charles’ medicine out of a bag and handed it to you. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly as you looked up at Logan. He just nodded, lips pursed and brow furrowed. 

Charles looked at you in a knowing pointed way that you ignored. 

“Take these first,” you murmured to Charles. 

You handed Charles the pills and he began to protest but Logan snapped, “Listen to her. Take the damn pills Charles.”

Charles grumbled but then did as he was told. 

You gently reached for his arm, turned it over, and inserted the needle. 

Charles’s breaths soon became slower as his eyes fluttered closed. 

You trailed behind Logan and stared at his broad shoulders as he walked out and made his way to the main living area. 

With a grunt shucked off his coat and sat down at the kitchen table. He tossed the bag he held of additional supplies on the table as he did so. 

“Logan, a-are you okay? Whose blood is that?” you gasped as you took in his blood soaked button-down. 

“M-fine,” he grunted and shook his head. 

You stepped closer and reached for his shirt but he batted your hand away. 

“Logan,” you protested. 

He held onto your hand and your breath caught at the scrape of his callouses as his much larger hand enveloped yours in warmth. 

“I don’t need any help, sweet girl,” he said as his gorgeous hazel eyes met yours. You wanted to rub your thumbs across the wrinkles in his brow. You wanted to run your fingers through his salt and pepper hair. You wanted to trace the curve of his plush bottom lip. 

You took a shuddered breath as you attempted to control the impulsive part of your brain and stop yourself from reaching out and touching his handsome face. 

“Are you hurt?” you asked. 

He sighed deeply. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not your problem.”

He let go of your hand and suddenly it felt so cold. 

“I can help,” you said. 

“Look, you’re here to take care of Charles. I don’t need you to fuckin’ baby me. I’m capable of caring for myself, okay?” he snapped. 

You blinked rapidly and looked down to avoid him seeing your eyes fill up with tears. You really didn’t want to be called a crybaby for the second time in a week- Charles had thrown that insult at you only a couple of days ago. 

“Okay sorry,” you muttered and swiftly made your way to your room. 

You made sure to shut the door behind you. You plopped on your bed and covered your mouth to muffle your sobs. You didn’t want Logan to overhear you, it would be too embarrassing. 

Your heart ached. Your love for Logan had turned into something rotten inside your chest. 

What started as an innocent crush on the older man had transformed into an intense years long ache that sat deep within your soul. There was no resolution, no other man for you, nowhere else to direct your affection and yearning. 

And Logan wouldn’t even let you give it to him. He held you at arms lengths, well- most of the time. Every once in a while, when you could only assume he was feeling particularly vulnerable - he gave you a drop of gentleness. It only fueled the torch you held for him as the ache only became stronger. 

You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t or couldn’t just let you in. At times you felt you saw a glimmer of the real him beneath the gruff exterior, but he always covered it up with even more grumpiness. 

To you, Logan hung the moon. You loved everything about him, even when he frustrated you to the point of wanting to scream, even when his harsh words made you cry, even as you watched him age from poisoning from the metal within his body, even as you watched him work himself to the bone and destroy himself with an extended lifetime of detrimental habits like over-drinking, smoking, and fighting. 

You loved him unconditionally and you didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just let you. 

He worked so hard to care for you and Charles. You just wanted to take care of him for once, to treat him with the gentleness he’d been so starved of for centuries, to drench him in your care. 

But you couldn’t. So you ached, and ached, and ached. 

Charles was right, you decided. Logan would never love you. 

Tears streamed down your face as you choked on your sobs. 

If Charles was right about that then maybe he was right that Logan resented you. Maybe he only kept you around because he couldn’t manage caring for Charles himself. 

Maybe he wished you weren’t around. 

You pressed your hand harder against your mouth as the despair wrapped itself around you like a dark cloak as you wept. 

This unrequited love was becoming more than you could handle. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything different. There was no possible way you could walk away. You would take the scraps you received from Logan because it was better than nothing at all. 

There was no happy ending in this for you, no resolution. 

A knock at your door broke you from your spiraling thoughts. 

You hiccuped and quickly wiped away your tears. 

“Y-yeah?” you called out. 

Logan opened your door and stepped into the room. 

“Didn’t mean to make ya cry,” he grumbled. 

“M’not crying,” you mumbled as you scrubbed away the last of the tears. 

He gave you a deadpan look that made you huff a small laugh. 

“It’s pretty easy to make me cry,” you muttered the joke at your own expense. 

He cracked a small smile. He looked at you expectantly as he waited for you to explain. 

“It was just a tough day,” you explained. “Charles was just… well you know how he gets sometimes. He was pretty mean. I know he didn’t mean it. And then you…” 

You trailed off as you looked up at him. 

He moved from leaning against the wall and sat at the end of your bed. 

He reached over and placed his hand over yours where it sat in your lap. 

You looked at him with wide eyes. 

“I don’t want you to worry about me,” he said, his voice soft and low. 

“I- I can't help it,” you said. 

He sighed. 

“Why does it upset you that I worry about you? That I want to help you? To take care of you?” you asked with more boldness than you’ve ever shown him. 

He pressed his lips together and swallowed. His head ticked to the side as he glanced away from you, clearly uncomfortable with the vulnerability you were asking of him. 

The silence stretched long. 

“It makes me feel old- like less of a man. Makes me feel like you think I can’t take care of you the way a man should,” he finally admitted. 

You were pretty certain your heart made an audible cracking sound. 

You gripped his hand and moved closer to him on the bed, close enough that your knees knocked against his. 

You placed a hand on the side of his face, your sensitive fingers brushed against his coarse beard and marveled at the fact that he let you. 

“I would never think of you that way. You do take care of me. I just worry about the stress that Charles and I put on you. I just want to help. I care about you - so much.” 

He nuzzled his face into your hand. 

“You do help. More than you know,” he murmured. 

Another tear slipped from your eye and he wiped it away. 

“My sweet girl, my little crybaby,” he said with amused affection and you choked on a laugh. 

“Lo-“ 

“You don’t want this- me. You deserve a better life than this old man can give you,” he said. 

You shook your head.

“I don’t want any life that doesn’t have you in it,” you said fervently. 

The hand he had on the side of your face slipped to the back of your head. He moved as he pulled you towards him and then his lips were on yours. 

Your heart pounded and threatened to burst from your chest. 

He kissed you- Logan was kissing you and it was better than you ever imagined. 

The press of his lips against yours was firm and yet gentle, the plush of his lips gave way as you moved your lips against his, as you sunk into the kiss. 

Your eyes filled with tears for what felt like the hundredth time of the day. This time the cause was joy. You felt like you were flying as you finally received the affection from him you’d been so desperate for after years of pining for him. 

The kiss could’ve lasted seconds or it could’ve lasted a lifetime - it didn’t matter, no time with Logan was enough. 

He poured his love into your lips, into the tangle of his tongue with yours as he explored your mouth. All the unspoken words no longer needed as you tasted one another, as your hands gripped each other tightly, as you felt at home in one another’s arms. 

And when you finally broke apart, lips

curved into smiles, tears in both your eyes, it was as if the world had stopped just for the two of you. 

In this little moment with his forehead pressed against yours as your breaths mingled, life was perfect. 

The challenges of today and tomorrow were infinitesimal when you had one another. That kiss sealed your promise - that you would both take care of one another, forever.

[pnghoon]

daddy's in a tutu !!

(🩰) ── 𝓟ARK JONGSEONG [제이] ⁞ ㅤㅤ𝓰. fluff, humor, married auㅤㅤ୨୧ㅤㅤ warnings : est. relationship, not proofread, pet-namesㅤ⟡ㅤ!nonidol hubby !jay 𝔁 wife !reader ᯓ ꒰ wc : 1.3k꒱ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsynopsis .ᐟ in which you come back home to the sight of your husband in a pretty pink tutu (•̪ o •̪) ── 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ᡣ𐭩

juno's note ─ "unfortunately I can imagine him in a tutu if our daughter asked him too" is so jay coded. you will never not catch me yapping about husband jay..bc why is that man so hubby material. if you enjoyed reading this, please be sure to like & reblog !! ♡

the snow was falling heavily outside, blanketing the world in a soft, white layer. inside your cozy home, you were busy getting ready for a day of much-needed errands.

bustling around the house, you pulled on your warmest winter coat and bundled up, ready to brave the icy roads.

before you left, you turned to your husband, jay, and your four year old daughter, yubin, who was sitting on the couch, hugging her favorite pink stuffed bunny.

you stared at your daughter's crestfallen face as she cuddled up beside jay. It was the inevitable that the four year old would be upset right now. due to the icy roads and heavy snow, today's ballet class was canceled, leaving yubin devastated.

“are you sure you'll be okay?” you asked, fixing the scarf around your neck and grabbing your purse.

jay looked up from the couch, where he was busy trying to cheer up yubin, her eyes still a bit puffy from the earlier tears and her nose resembling rudolph.

“we'll be fine,” he reassured with a smile, “right, princess?”

yubin nodded half-heartedly, a cute pout still present on her face as she clutched her bunny.

“you guys call me if you need anything,” you reminded them, pressing a kiss to jay's cheek and ruffling yubin's hair. “i'll be back soon.”

and with one last look at your two favorite people, you braved the snowy outdoors. the cold air nipped at your cheeks, but the promise of hot cocoa and a warm house kept you going.

you made your way to the car, shaking your head with a smile at how cute they looked together. little did you know, an adventure was unfolding inside.

jay and yubin huddled together in the living room, surrounded by the warmth of the heater and the faint sound of delicate snowflakes hitting the window.

yubin wore her little ballet outfit, a mini bun perched on the crown of her head as she practiced her pirouettes.

jay on the other hand, was trying his best to keep up with her, although his ballet skills were definitely less refined.

“okay binnie, let’s try that spin again,” jay said, puffing slightly. “i think i’ve got it now.”

yubin giggled, her cheeks flushed with excitement as he watched her dad try to catch his breath from just a couple twirls.

“daddy, you’re doing great! but…”

“but what, sweetheart?” jay asked, glancing down at her with a raised brow.

“i think you need a tutu too!”

jay blinked. he hadn't anticipated that request. “a tu..tu? i don’t know if that’s a good idea honey...”

“pleeease, daddy?” yubin begged, giving him her best puppy eyes. “it’ll be so much fun!”

jay stared at his daughter for a moment, his heart swelling in his chest at the sight of her big round eyes staring up at him.

after a moment of thought, jay reluctantly sighed, giving in to her adorable plea. “alright, alright. if it’ll make you happy, i’ll wear a tutu.”

and with that, jay found himself sporting a frilly tutu that barely fit his hips, his face turning an adorable shade of pink to match the tutu. yubin clapped her hands in delight, twirling around in her own tutu.

“we're matching now daddy!” yubin cheered, jumping around in her ballet slippers.

jay laughed, looking down at the slight new change of wardrobe. it was definitely a combo to say the least, never in his life would he expect sweats to look so good with a tutu.

“isn't that right binnie?” he commented, extending his hand for yubin to take. “now, let's get back to those grand jeté's we were working on earlier eh?”

yubin squealed, immediately accepting his requests with the grasp of her tiny fingers and a wide smile plastered on her face.

“yes please!”

as they continued their ballet practice, the living room had turned into a makeshift stage for the two, with yubin and jay performing a whimsical ballet routine, the sweet melodies of the nutcracker adding the perfect touch to their chaotic performance.

“okay, let’s see your best grand jeté!” yubin called out, her tiny arms reaching out dramatically.

jay attempted a grand jeté, but ended up looking more like an enthusiastic baby goose learning to fly, his arms flailing in the air.

yubin giggled uncontrollably, trying to mimic her dad's moves with even more dramatizing flair.

they pranced around the living room for what seemed like hours, their tutus fluttering in sync with every twirl and leap. for jay’s sake, they would take periodic breaks throughout the practice.

during these breaks, yubin would watch in amusement as her dad rested his hands on his waist, desperately trying to regain his composure. let’s just say, it was like watching a wind-up toy wind down.

after what felt like ages, you were finally heading home. sure, the sweet jingle of christmas music and the warm smell of cinnamon from each errand stop were enduring, but what you were really looking forward to was being wrapped up in a warm, cozy blanket with the two people you love most.

as you pulled into the driveway, the house looked picture perfect against the snowy backdrop. you carried your bags inside, balancing them as you nudged the door open with your hip.

“i'm back!” you called out, kicking off your snowy boots and setting the bags down in the kitchen. “i got all the goodies!”

no response. now you were curious.

you walked further into the house slowly, following the sound of familiar classical music you knew all too well. peeking around the corner, you stopped in your tracks, eyes wide and mouth agape.

there, in the middle of the living room was your husband, in a bright pink tutu that barely fit his athletic build. matching his outfit was your daughter, her own tutu flaring out as she twirled around, her giggles a melody of their own. they were completely in the zone, unaware of your presence.

If you were being frank, the scene was too precious to interrupt. jay was trying to execute an arabesque, but his balance was off, making yubin laugh even more.

“come on, daddy! like this!” she demonstrated with the grace only a child could have, and jay tried again, a bit more successfully this time.

you couldn’t hold back your laughter any longer, and jay’s head practically spun at the sound, his face turning even redder from embarrassment.

“oh- hey honey! um, well, yubin wanted to practice ballet–” he explained, his voice trailing off at the end.

“don't stop on my account,” you teased, revealing yourself from behind the wall as you took in the scene before you in all it’s glory.

yubin ran over to you, her eyes shimmering with excitement.

“mommy, look! daddy's my ballet partner!”

you couldn't help but chuckle, kneeling down to hug your daughter. “i can see that," you commented through giggles, your gaze flickering towards your husband for a moment. “and I must say.. he's doing a pretty fantastic job.”

“why thank you.” jay answered. he tried to pull off a graceful bow, but from the energy he had just exerted to his recent performance with his daughter, he stumbled a bit.

you couldn't stop laughing, tears forming in your eyes. “oh, jay, you're a sight.”

jay grinned, walking over to join you and there daughter. “anything for our little princess. plus, i think i’ve found a new appreciation for tutus.”

later that evening, after yubin was tucked into bed, you and jay found yourselves cuddled on the couch, the soft glow of the christmas tree lights casting a warm glow to the room.

“you really made her day today, y'know,” you murmured, resting your head on jay's chest.

“well, that's what dads are for, right?” he replied, his fingers playing with a strand of your hair.

“i think you might have missed your calling as a ballet dancer,” you teased, nudging his side with your elbow.

jay laughed, pulling you closer. “i'll stick to my day job, thanks. but for yubin, i'd wear a tutu any day.”

you smiled, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. “and that's exactly why you’re so amazing.”

𝓢igning off... @pnghoon

── 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 [OPEN 🗯] @onlyhees @amouriu @greentulip @enhluv1 @samiikeu @hoonwhile @dearrwoni @won4kiss @jakesangel

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Going to the library with Harris is a great way to escape the heat. But with Harris and Hendrix? You just might lose your mind.

TW: pregnant!Reader, mentions of postpartum difficulties, just a ton of fluff

WC: 1.3k

Divider credit to @saradika

August 1999

It’s hot. 

The sun beats down on you the moment you step out of your car and begin walking across the parking lot.  

“Wait for me, Har,” you call out from where you trail behind him. 

You used to spend summers lounging by the public pool—usually with a book in hand. Though being a parent to Harris meant that you found yourself donning a swimsuit and joining him, dodging the water that splashed each time he kicked his feet. 

This summer is different, the heat less tolerable now that you’re six months pregnant. Being anywhere without air conditioning for an extended period of time is akin to torture. Which is why you and Harris spend most of your days at the Hawkins Public Library.

Harris slows to a stop, only walking again once you’ve reached his side. 

“Can we take Baby Brother to the library when he’s born?”

You take his hand in yours. “Of course.” A pause, then the necessary clarification. “Well, not right when he’s born. But once he’s a little older, we can definitely bring him along.”

Harris nods, content with the response, as he bounds towards the doors. He holds it open for you, leaning his whole body up against the frame. It was something he’d learned after watching his dad hold doors open for you. If baby brain doesn’t interfere, you’ll have to tell Eddie about it.

The library hosts various kid-friendly activities, and Harris is no stranger to arts and crafts. Since school let out, your home has become increasingly filled with glitter-coated popsicle picture frames and macaroni necklaces. But there’s nothing on the schedule today, which means an afternoon spent reading.

You find a seat in the children’s section, making yourself as comfortable as you can in the small chairs. Harris flits from shelf to shelf, grabbing every book that catches his eye until he has a pile he can barely hold.

“Okay, Mom,” he grunts behind his stack of books. “I’m ready.”

With a wince, you stand up and help him carry the books to the table. There’s the slew of usuals: Green Eggs and Ham (he insists you read each page in one breath), If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, and The Mitten. But Harris plucks a new one from the stack: Where the Wild Things Are.

“I’m gonna read this one to Baby Brother,” he says, plopping down on the chair next to you. “If I teach him about monsters now, then he won’t grow up to be afraid of ‘em.”

You nod, refusing to argue with his logic. Who knows–he may be right.

Harris opens to the first page, placing one finger on the first word. “The night Max w-w-wore his wolf s-s-s-uh…” He looks up at you, a wrinkle in his brow. “Can you help me? Just with the tricky words.”

His reading has vastly improved thanks to the extra instruction he receives at school, and you’re more than happy to fill in when he needs it. “Suit.”

“Right. Suit.” He starts again. “The night Max wore his wolf suit and mad–made mis-cuh-huh…no, wait, that makes the ch sound…” His little tongue pokes between his lips, another habit he’s picked up from Eddie.

“Mischief.” Your eyes sparkle. “Like what you like to cause.”

He giggles, continuing to read until he gets to the pages where the full pages are illustrations of the wild rumpus. “Is Baby Brother listening?” He peers down at your bump and rests his hand on top. “Hey, are you listening in there?”

You can’t help but laugh at his questioning. “He must be. He hasn’t moved too much since you started reading. And lately he’s been squirming around in there.”

It’s a good enough explanation to Harris, and he picks up where he left off. “Okay, I know you can’t see this, but now the wild things are having, like, a dance party. They’re going stomp, stomp, stomp.” He mimics the monsters’ movements, feet stamping the colorful carpeted floor.

He finishes the book, closing it with a triumphant thwack. “Can you read to me now?” he asks you.

“Of course.” You take Green Eggs and Ham–his favorite. Something about the repetition tickles his brain just right. Before you know it, Harris is doing his jumps, leaning on the table and jumping each time you read a sentence starting with “I do not like…”

It’s the last summer of just you and Harris, and you take an extra moment to cherish it. Next year, you’ll have two sons to read to–what more could you ask for?

August 2000

You’re exhausted. Running on fumes.

Hendrix has been waking up multiple times per night, thanks to the tiny teeth ripping through his gums. Since you’re off of work for the summer, you take the brunt of the night shift. It makes sense, but you still find yourself scowling at a still-sleeping Eddie each time you pad past his side of the bed and into the nursery.

When Hendrix woke up just after 7 A.M., you walked in to find that he’d had a major diaper blowout. How any nine-month-old could produce that much poop was beyond your comprehension.

Once you’d disposed of his soiled pajamas and bathed him, you hit another roadblock: a Harris tantrum. In your sleep deprived state, you had forgotten to pick up his latest go-to cereal at Bradley’s Big Buy. And when Harris opened the pantry and found an absence of Chex, melted down. You finally got him to catch his breath by promising to stop off at the grocery store on the way home from the library–if you ever got there.

Despite the odds, you managed to get both boys into the car. With a baby on your hip and an almost-third-grader by your side, you take a deep breath and push aside the morning’s frustrations. 

Harris places his old books on the return counter and makes a beeline for the children’s section. The moment he’s out of sight, Hendrix begins to wiggle and whine. 

“Okay, buddy,” you murmur, fielding glares from library patrons who had been savoring the silence, “just give Har a second to get some new–”

Hendrix’s shriek pierces the air, filling you with embarrassment and sending you rushing towards Harris to hurry him up.

“Mom, look! It’s the book I read to Hendrix when he was in your tummy!” He holds up Where the Wild Things Are. “I wonder if he remembers it.”

The baby wails again, and you gently shush and bounce him, though your efforts appear futile.

“Maybe. Why don’t you check it out and we can read it to him at home?”

Harris scrunches up his nose. “We’re not gonna read here?”

You shake your head. “Not today. Hendrix isn’t in a very good mood. He’s teething, remember?”

“Yeah, but…” Harris purses his lips. “Can I see something? Can you put him down for a second?”

“Har, he’s gonna crawl–”

“Just for a second, Mom!”

You sigh, defeated, and you place the baby on the carpet. Sure enough, he starts crawling away, under tables and chairs and heading for the bookshelves. But before you can scoop him up, Harris kneels on both knees, book open, and begins scooting after him.  

“The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mis–mischief of one kind,” he reads as he follows his little brother, unbothered at the prospect of being on the move. “And another…”

Hendrix weaves in and out of the aisles, but Harris is right on his tail. Screeching is quickly replaced with baby giggles, and the next time Hendrix peeks his head out from behind the shelves, there’s a smile on his face that shows all five of his teeth.

“C’mon, let’s have a wild rumpus!” Harris glances at you. “Mom, you gotta rumpus with us!”

And who are you to deny your son–and your lifesaver for the day–a wild rumpus?

--

[defututus]

eddie finds you with a migraine and you're stubborn

eddie munson x fem!reader

cw: established relationship, a mix of angst and fluff (you just aren’t feeling well), migraines and talk of past medical experiences, there’s like a hint of a dom/sub relationship but only for a moment I swear

author's note: this is the first fic I've ever posted and it's for the migraine girlies. I have another migraine-related fic idea that I've been thinking about writing so we''ll see what happens. this fic a culmination of my personal experiences with migraines and wishing Eddie could be here and force me to take my medication when I act like I don't need it.

Thank you @munson-blurbs and @corroded-hellfire for reading it and pushing me every time I come up with an idea and yelling at me to write it, love you both <3

The sound of Eddie's boots echo through the hallways of his apartment complex as he finally arrives home from work, pulling his mittens off his hands and stuffing them in his jacket pockets. The weather this week has been horrible, the garage is freezing, and he nearly tripped over a creeper that someone left in the middle of the room. He’s pretty sure the new guy, Gunther, left it there when he went to grab some parts. Everyone in the room, including Wayne, saw the way his arms flailed and he almost fell on his face. The only thing that kept him going was knowing you would be there at home waiting for him at the end of the day. All he wanted to do right now was curl up with you on the couch under some blankets and watch some gory horror movies all night. You had mentioned trying out the new Chinese place down the road, maybe you guys could just have it delivered so neither of you need to leave the comforts of your warm home. He would have been home sooner but you needed a few things for a recipe you wanted to try soon and he offered to pick them up after work.

Eddie finally reaches the door to the apartment and fumbles with the keys, his hands still freezing despite the warm mittens he wore outside. He curses under his breath, eventually grabbing the right key amongst all the identical ones hanging on his keyring. Heaving a huge sigh of relief, Eddie finally unlocks the door and steps inside to find the apartment dark and chilly. The streetlights illuminate part of the living room through the half open blinds. A young chocolate lab runs over to greet Eddie, his nails scraping the floors as he skids across, excitedly jumping up to greet his human after being gone all day. Eddie bends down to give him some scratches and pat his pack. 

“Hey Yogi, did you keep the place safe today? You really are the best dog, aren’t you?” After about 30 seconds of roughhousing with the pup, he stands back up to flick on a light. He goes over to your small kitchen and sets down the small bag of groceries. Eddie takes his time putting everything away, humming to himself as he shelves the chicken stock and adobo. Once all the items are put away, Eddie looks around and takes in the state of the apartment.

The faint scent of a lavender candle wafting through the area and your water bottle is left on the coffee table. His jacket is hung up in the small coat closet and he unties his boots, placing them in front of one of the heat ducts and swearing he’ll put them on the shoe rack once they’re fully dry. There’s no sign of you whatsoever apart from your bottle and the blanket you usually use haphazardly draped across the edge of the couch.

The place is oddly silent for this time of day. Normally if you were home you’d have some sort of music playing, usually a playlist split between the two of you with your preferred music in it. Either that or you would have some tv show on for background noise. The space heater wasn’t on and it didn’t feel like it had been on for some time now. All the heat coming from the heat ducts was leaving through the old windows so those heaters were necessary to prevent the apartment from feeling like a walk-in freezer every winter. Eddie knew you had to be home - your bag was hanging next to your coat and you wouldn’t go anywhere without at least notifying him. He turns around back to Yogi, happily wagging his tail and looking up at him, and whispers, “Hey, where’s mom? Go find mom for me.” He motions for Yogi to go ahead and he happily obliges, trotting towards the closed bedroom door.

It’s not fully shut, open only a crack so Yogi could come inside if he so chooses. The dog sticks his nose inside to open it more and pushes through it. Eddie silently follows behind him. The room is pitch black thanks to the blackout curtains on the window, a gift from your parents when you and Eddie finally found an apartment together. Eddie then realizes what’s going on.

You had struggled with migraines for a majority of your life with them getting progressively worse and more frequent in the last three years. You’re on a few different medications now to make it more manageable but you still have your bad days, and today is looking like one of them. Frankly, he should have known this was going to happen. Bad weather was always a trigger for you and you had commented on the barometer this morning as you both were getting ready for the day. He was stupid to just brush that off as small talk while you both were still half asleep. You knew a migraine was coming. 

Eddie sees you curled up on his side of the bed with a sleep mask over your eyes. You’re grimacing under it in the fetal position and what sounds to be whimpering. Before Eddie goes inside, he tiptoes over to the light switch he just flipped and turns the lights off, the streetlights being the only thing illuminating once more. He sees some movement out of the corner of his eye coming from the bedroom and tiptoes back over to your room. Yogi is taking a step back before jumping up onto the bed, taking his usual spot curled up behind your knees with his head resting on your leg. He even lets out a little sigh when he settles into a comfortable position. Eddie steps inside the room and closes the door behind him. You pick your head up just a little bit and lift the sleep mask, wincing at the shooting pain from behind your eyes to the top of your head and call out a strained, “Ed?” 

Eddie slowly walks over to his side of the bed, trying to keep as quiet as possible so the floor would creak as little as possible. Once he’s close enough, he reaches down and cups your cheek, stroking it with his thumb and replying with a quiet, “Hey bub, how are you feeling?”

You mumble, “Not great, but you’re home now so I’m already feeling a little better.”

His hands are warm in stark contrast with the cold air circulating the apartment. You nuzzle his hand with your cheek which makes Eddie smile. Eddie moves down to kneel in front of you. You look tired, your eyes only half open with no life in them. He had seen you like this countless times before but it still hurt him every single time. Migraines sucked all the life out of you and Eddie wished he could do something to help you. There were countless times you had to cancel plans because you had a migraine attack and felt so much guilt over it, but Eddie didn’t care. He’d rather lay in bed with you until you feel better than go out and do something when you’re obviously in pain.

He remembered an attack you had last year, it left you crying and asking Eddie to take you to the hospital. You were hyperventilating and complaining that your arm had gone numb. No amount of medication was working and you couldn’t take the searing pain any longer. He had to help you out to the car, only wearing one of his worn band shirts that you stole from Eddie a long time ago and a pair of pajama shorts. You two didn’t even make it out of the apartment parking lot when the medication you took finally kicked in all at once. It was one of the scariest times of his life and he swore it would never happen again. 

Eddie nods, already going through his mental list of things that he needs to do to help you feel better, asking, “Have you taken anything today?” You shake your head no before a wave of pain hits you, causing you to shut your eyes again and bury your face in the pillow with a low pained groan. Eddie sits there, worried but also confused. Why didn’t you take anything? He got up and went over to your side of the bed to open your bedside drawer. It was split into two parts, one with the items you used before bed but the other half held all your medications, including every painkiller known to man. There was a giant unopened bottle of Excedrin, a bottle of Advil, and even the migraine medication prescribed by your doctor. You certainly weren’t low on anything. His attention is turned back to you when you roll onto your back, your migraine moving exclusively to the side of your head that was touching the pillow therefore it hurt too much to lay on your side. Unfortunately, you moving meant Yogi wasn’t able to lay on your legs anymore so he huffed and jumped off the bed.

“Sweetheart, why haven’t you taken anything?” Eddie gets onto the bed to sit down next to you, his hand going back to your face. Your eyes open once more, squinting at the minute level of light coming in from behind the curtains. You whine and answer tiredly,

“I don’t need them.”

Your boyfriend sits up, completely perplexed by your answer. Did he hear you correctly? He takes you in again, noting the noise cancelling earplugs in your ears and how much you keep clenching your jaw, something that he knows will only make the pain worse.

“Wait, what? Honey…,” Eddie stammers, wincing at the volume of his exclamation and watching you do the same. “Listen, I love you. I love you more than everything in the world, but frankly I think you look and sound like shit. You look like you’re in a lot of pain right now.” 

He watches you pout and smiles a little bit, happy to see even a small sign of life in his girlfriend again. “Wow Eddie, rude.”

“Why won’t you take the medication?” he repeats.

“I don’t need it. The pain isn’t that bad, I’ve felt worse.”

“Ok but you have the means to stop the pain NOW so why not do that? Don’t wait until you’re in agony to take something.”

Eddie doesn’t wait for a response. He gets up and leaves the room with your dog following behind like the loyal pet he is. You hear two sets of footsteps walk through the apartment and then the faint sound of running water. You assumed he just left to let you rest so you pulled the blankets up over your head to try and get to sleep. He returns again a minute later, Yogi in tow and your refilled water bottle in hand. There’s a shift in weight on the mattress, which you assume to be from Eddie, followed by Yogi  hopping onto the bed and just standing in the middle of it, as if he’s there just to watch you and make sure you do as you’re told.

Eddie slowly takes the blanket off your head and ignores your protests. He opens up the water bottle and places it on your bedside table. With his other hand he holds out a little pink pill, the medication prescribed by your doctor, as well as two Excedrin. “Cmon, take this,” he asks, moving his hand closer to you when you shake your head no, “Babe, you need to take this. Please.”

There’s no response from you this time. Eddie carefully puts the medication down on the table next to your water. He decides to make it so you can’t ignore him, pulling the covers up and climbs under them next to you. His eyes quickly adjust to the darkness and looks you right in the eye. 

“Listen, I don’t understand why you refuse to take your medication. You have a chronic condition that is easily fixed by a few little pills. Also…” Eddie leans in so your noses are practically touching, maintaining eye contact the entire time. “Think about the creator of that little pill. That nice, strong painkiller. Think about the scientists that made that little pill for you,” he says. You’re looking at him confused as he continues speaking, “Think about how sad he must be that you aren’t taking that pill. He worked so hard to make it for you and you’re being a stubborn little brat.”

You mutter, “I’m not a brat,” and try to roll over, but a hand shoots out and grabs your arm before you could fully turn away from him.

Eddie leans into your ear and you feel his curly fringe tickle your neck. His voice deepens in a way that has always made you squirm and goes, “You’re gonna be a good girl and take your medicine, okay?”

You don’t turn your back to him, but you also don’t fully turn to face him again. The only part of you that turns is your head to look back at him. He’s giving you a look that he only ever gave you in the bedroom, the look he gave you when you were pushing his buttons because you thought it was funny and knew he was going to teach you a lesson when he finally got you alone - in a consensual way, of course. He can see it in your eyes that he got you, that once his demeanor changed you would be more likely to listen to him. To ensure you would really listen to him, he moves his hand from your arm to touch your cheek again and asks, more softly this time, “Take it for me, please.”

Eddie watches you think for a second before sitting up - slowly, because you were still in pain, and takes the covers off of your head. You look over at the dog laying at the end of your bed, now asleep. Eddie takes the covers off his head and turns to the bedside table to hand you the pills and water bottle. He watches you swallow the pills and drink around half of the water in your water bottle. Eddie places his hand on your inner thigh to squeeze it and is finally smiling again. Yogi seems to sense that things are better now so he jumps off the bed and trots over to his doggy bed and lays down there. Once you’re finished with the bottle, he takes it from you and places it back on the table. He asks, “Now, was that so difficult?”

“Extremely difficult.”

“Ok, well we’re gonna stay in bed until everything kicks in. Once you’re better we can take the pup out for a quick—” Eddie leans in to mouth the word walk, so Yogi doesn’t hear him, “—and then we’ll order some take out. Sounds good to you?”

You nod silently, finally smiling at him for the first time since he got home today. He presses a light kiss to your forehead and you flinch away from him.

“Ok, yeah. Forgot to not touch your head when it hurts, sorry.”

Eddie watches you settle back down in bed and reluctantly gets out of the warm bed. The cold is seeping in through the windows and all he wants to do at that moment is just stay under the covers with you, even if it means sleeping in his clothes. You roll over to watch Eddie as he softly treads across the room to the dresser. He starts off by removing his rings one at a time to place them in a little jewelry tray, listening to each piece clink as they hit the ceramic. His hair is taken out of the bun he kept it in all day and he scratches at his head to relieve the tension from having it pulled back all day. 

His shirt comes next, pulling it over his head and revealing the skeleton wings tattooed across his back. You’re stuck there admiring the way his muscles move in the dim light. Eddie complains about how tiring it is being a mechanic but you can’t deny it’s doing wonders for his body. He used to be so lanky but now that he’s been doing this job for a while you’ve noticed how strong he has gotten.

He’s about to put his shirt in the laundry when you wolf whistle at him. Eddie whips his head around to look at you, smirking when he sees you giggling and crawling over to the other side of the bed now wrapping a blanket around yourself to keep warm. He balls his shirt up and throws it in your direction and you swat it away, making him cackle.

“Oh nothings wrong with you, you’re fine!”

You gasp at his accusation and reach down to the floor to grab the shirt so you could throw it back at him. As you’re grasping for it, there’s some shuffling and movement going on as Eddie goes back to getting changed. His work pants are thrown into the laundry basket with his underwear coming off moments later. You’re still watching him, now just admiring his body as a whole while he digs for a comfortable pair of pajama pants, eventually landing on a red pair with reindeer on them that your aunt gave him for Christmas this year. The winds outside from the storm are billowing, meaning more of the frigid outside air is leaking in through your windows. 

Instead of coming back to bed like you thought he would, Eddie leaves the bedroom and goes out to the linen closet. You have a small collection of blankets in there and he pulls out the thickest one in there. He returns seconds later and lays it out on the bed before climbing in beside you. Your eyelids are already getting heavy when he returns to you. You instinctively reach out for him and he pulls you close, allowing you to rest your head on his chest with a hand stroking your hair. You roll over a bit to bury your face in the crook of his neck, mumbling, “I’m sorry for being a brat earlier. Thank you for helping me.” He pecks your forehead again and you don’t flinch this time. 

“Don’t worry about it sweetheart, I don’t mind taking care of you. Now get some sleep, okay?”

You nod against him and Eddie notices your breathing changing a few minutes later when you finally fall asleep. It’s the first time you’ve been able to fall asleep, not that you would tell him. You didn’t want him to worry about you or become a burden, but Eddie would always be there for you if you needed him.

[forslimslime]

Show Me a Good Loser, and I’ll Show You a Loser

JSchlatt x Fem!Reader | N.SFW, mdni | ~1.2k words

derogatory language, humiliation kink, dom!schlatt (kinda), slapping, use of 'sir'

Summary: A new agreement with Schlatt leads to an intense night.

You mentally kicked yourself for coming up with this stupid idea. This is the second time this week you found yourself on your knees for Schlatt. You both are both stubborn people often butting heads in petty arguments neither of you want to back down from. You proposed a solution to let off any residual steam from these minor squabbles -- loser gives head.

On Monday, you and Schlatt fought over how to correctly load bowls in the dishwasher. The stupid manual sided with him, leading to your head pinned between his hips and the kitchen cabinets.

"I could get used to this," he said after coming down your throat. He gave a light slap to your cheek and finished loading the dishwasher.

Tuesday provided a victory.

"I know for a fact it's your turn to do laundry this week," you argued. You reach across the bed to grab your phone and hastily scroll through your texts to find some evidence.

"No, it isn't! I know I did it last because I remember handwashing your lingerie set," Schlatt retorted. He crossed his arms from his position in front of you.

Your eyes catch some movement. "I can see you getting hard, hun. But you're not gonna get any because I know I'm right." You finally find the text laying out the chores for the last two weeks.

"See!" You shove your phone in Schlatt's face with a smile, "You literally said that this week is your turn to do laundry. Also, I wore that lingerie set two weeks ago, not last week."

Schlatt's eyes read over the text and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Fucking hell. Yeah, you're right," he sighs and tugs at your pajama shorts. "Take these fucking things off," he grumbles.

Today, however, was not as rewarding. Another quarrel over a fact about an actor and you're relegated to your knees. You could only manage to glare up at Schlatt as you bob your head up and down his cock. The smug motherfucker isn't even looking at you, eyes focused on the TV while occasionally taking a swig from the bottle of beer in his right hand. The only signal of pleasure you see from him besides his hard cock in your mouth is the hitch in his breath every time you tongue the tip.

Schlatt brings his left hand down to the back of your head, pumping you up and down at his own pace. You will yourself to take him deeper. You snake a hand down between your thighs to feel at your core. The slick instantly coats your fingers and you moan when you brush at your clit.

Immediately, you feel a sting at your scalp as Schlatt grips your hair and pulls you off his cock. You gasp a breath and he jerks your head back, your chin tilting up.

"Are you touching yourself?" he asks with amusement, "I don't think that's part of the agreement, sweetheart."

"No, I-" your sentence is cut off by the light slap of his cock on your face. You wince as he deals a few more, a mixture of your saliva and his precum smears on your skin.

Schlatt laughs at your grimacing face before smacking his tip to your lips. You open your mouth, offering your tongue to him.

"Good girl," he breaths before feeding his cock back into your mouth. "I better not see you touching yourself again, alright?" You nod.

He lets go of your head and leans back into the couch. You continue sucking his cock, swirling your tongue around the head and over the vein that runs along the length. The sounds of the TV are incoherent to your ears as you focus on pleasuring him.

A few taps to your hollowed cheeks snaps you out of your daze.

"Come up here," Schlatt huffs while setting down his beer.

You rise from your position on the floor to sit on his lap, one knee on each side of his hips. You hiss when your pussy touches his slick member. Schlatt wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a deep kiss. One of his hands is still cold from the beer bottle and the chill sends shivers up your spine as he palms at your ass.

He breaks away and maneuvers you to face the other direction. Your back presses against his chest. You can feel his deep breaths rising and falling. Two hands grip the backs of your knees and raise them up and your hands scramble for balance in the couch cushions. You whimper as you're folded against his chest. He shifts you slightly and you feel the tip of his cock poking against your entrance.

"Babe," You whine, "I don't think this is part of the agreement either."

"Shhh... Be my good girl and take it," he whispers into your ear as he sinks you down his length. You mewl as he inches deeper and deeper in you. Schlatt pauses when he is fully in, relishing in the way your walls pulse around his cock. The way your body is folded gives you a clear view of his cock enveloped in your pussy.

Then suddenly, he's bucking up into you and setting a punishing pace. You ragdoll against his torso, unable to do anything against his grip on your thighs or the fast thrusts of his hips.

"Fuck," he mutters against your neck. He kisses your jaw as he thrusts up into you and you clench around him in response.

"God, you're so fucking tight. I bet you said whatever dumb thing came to your head earlier just so I can fuck you stupid like this," Schlatt pants. You only manage a whine in response.

His thrusts slow down and his cock slips out. "Hold your leg," he says and in your stupor, you manage to release your grip on his left arm to obey his instruction.

His free hand slides down to his cock and pushes himself back into you. His hand doesn't move back to your leg. Instead, the pads of his fingers rapidly swipe at your clit, pulling a yelp from your mouth. The sudden friction at your swollen bud brings you close to orgasm and you feel the pressure building at your core. Schlatt, then, lifts his hand away with a chuckle.

"Were you close?" he taunts, "Should I let this pussy cum?" He brings his hand down to deliver a harsh slap at your cunt. The sting almost brings you over the edge. His cock continues to pump in and out of you.

"Please," you cry, "please, please, please."

"Please, what?" He delivers more light smacks in quick succession over your clit and it takes all your energy not to scream.

Tears are streaming down your face. "Please let this pussy cum, sir," you sob.

You feel Schlatt's muscles jerk and his hips stutter in surprise. He didn't expect you to respond like that. He lets out a deep growl before jackhammering up into you.

"You can have whatever you fucking want if you keep calling me that," he rumbles. Schlatt circles your clit again at a dizzying pace. The pressure at your core builds. Every muscle in your body tightens as you feel the white heat of your orgasm envelop you.

You go limp against Schlatt. His cock pumps frantically into you and his hips stutter before he bottoms out one last time into your wet heat. You can feel his cock pulse as his cum coats your walls.

You both relax into the couch, chests heaving.

Schlatt chuckles into your hair, "You have the best fucking ideas, toots."

A/N:

Didn't read it over and edit it like I usually do so if there are glaring mistakes, my B!

Bro, like imagine the couch fucking in this fic to be like the reverse cowgirl section of the Kimmy Granger Likes it Rough video. His choice of porn just shows how much of a sadistic dom he is LMFAO

Thanks for reading! Open to any requests about Charlie Slimecicle and JSchlatt.

[ssahotchnerr]

Reader sending Aaron cute messages when he’s off on cases and him not realizing he’s kinda smiling when reading them? Or they just make him in a much better mood in general and the others let reader know when they’re officially introduced? Idk it sounded cute in my head LOL

all thanks to you

omg that's ADORABLE cw; FLUFF

"you!" you had merely crossed the threshold of dave's foyer, only to be attacked by a sudden, warm embrace.

"me?" you said within a laugh. you caught yourself before penelope's abrupt hug caused you to lose your footing, quick to reciprocate and the butterflies in your stomach somewhat lessening.

it was your very first night meeting the bau team, and you had been beside yourself with nerves for close to a week now - ever since aaron had first mentioned the get-together. as they were the next closest thing to aaron's family than jack, you equally wanted to make a perfect first impression.

you must've shown aaron at least five potential outfits before you had left his apartment, asking him over again if he were sure the time was right for you to meet them, and if he was even more sure they would take to you.

aaron had reassured you, that first, you would look stunning in whatever you wore. and second, they would adore you. he offered the comfort that he himself wasn't worried, because he knew them, and he knew you. "trust me," he had said, chuckling softly as he grabbed his car keys. "i'll be long forgotten once they get to know you."

likewise, aaron had already warned you - penelope was ecstatic to meet you and would not keep that hidden in the slightest. but if she were half of what aaron had already described, you knew the two of you were guaranteed to be instant friends. and her current show, was pure evidence of that.

"it's so nice to finally meet you. you have no idea how long i've been waiting." penelope grinned, buzzing from ear to ear. "like, once hotch opened a text from you while we were all sitting around, y'know, being productive. and boy, i knew he was a goner."

"really?"

"are you kidding? okay," she takes a second, as if she's mentally preparing herself, ready to paint the picture. "we were sitting there, like i said. his phone goes off, and y'know that normal face he makes - eyebrows kinda pinched, mr mcpouty pants? - you know the one. he picks up his phone, reads it and he smiles. full-on smiles, right in front of us. he didn't think we noticed, but we did. didn't he smile?" her hand smacks out onto derek's arm, who happened to be passing by, resulting in a gentle slap.

"yeah babygirl." derek flashed a smile in your direction. "saw it with my own eyes."

"so," penelope's hand now flew onto your arm, resuming her energetic story. "when he realized he smiled, god forbid right - mr grumpy face returns, rather labored this time because again, the world will end if we witness anything otherwise. hotch simply puts down his phone as if it were nothing, but oh my god, he was blushing so hard i thought he was gonna explode. he was so so tickled."

"aww," you laughed, your lips curving into a smile and more love for aaron - if it were possible- swelling in the middle of your chest. "that's so sweet."

"oh honey, and that's one time out of, millions. dare i say, he got used to smiling and was generally in such a better mood all around." she lightly shakes your arm. "earlier nights, later morning starts, no more mr mcpouty pants - well, for the most part. all thanks to you!"

you felt a familiar presence still behind you, a hand finding your back. "you blush when i text you?" you turned your head up towards aaron, blush of your very own tinting your cheeks.

aaron shrugged reservedly, helping you slide your coat off your shoulders and folding it over his arm. "i did mainly at the beginning."

"sir, no." penelope shook her head, a pleased smirk vibrant on her face as her gaze switched between the two of you. "you were blushing today."

[sorrowsofsilence]

Diagnosis • Sebastian

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Smut (18+, fingering, female!receiving), PnV pls wrap it b4 u tap it, male!recieving, choking, doctor x patient (this idea may make you uncomfortable so pls don’t read if it does- in irl it makes me uncomfortable lol- but this is pretend and Dr. Davis is made up.)

Prompt: You had no idea your past highschool school hook-up would be your substitute doctor during your annual check-up; but let's just say you were in desperate need of a physical.

Author note: LOL I AM GOING TO HELLLLL - but also I've seen so many Dr. Davis ideas I had to create one myself; so thank you to especially (@valiantroeagleangel) whose work inspired me. You are wonderful. And shout out to some sexy phrases by @loveisanimaginarydagger3000 - I’m weak

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

+

You picked at your fingernails nervously as you sat in the waiting room, your leg bouncing up and down rapidly.

Something about Doctors’ offices always made you nervous, especially when it involved a doctor that wasn’t your own. You were getting a routine check-up and your first pap smear, scheduled with your regular doctor, but she had a last-minute family emergency. This meant you were going to be inspected by someone else, and that thought made you slightly uneasy.

You played with the mask that covered your nose, pinching at the metal band that rested on the bridge before tugging at the string.

The old woman next to you watched your anxious wading with curious eyes, and you simply shifted in your seat, avoiding her gaze.

Your name was finally called and you followed the nurse, allowing her to check your height, and then leading you into a room located at the end of the hall.

She sat you down, your legs crunching beneath the paper as she placed the blood pressure bump along your arm, squeezing until it tightened and let go.

“Your blood pressure seems to be a little high?” She said, eyebrows furrowing.

You rubbed your hands nervously between your thighs, “I’m just a little anxious.”

Her eyes smiled, indicating a soft grin beneath the mask she wore, “You’ll be just fine. Dr. Davis is a fantastic doctor.”

His name rang off her tongue, piquing your interest. Davis. You knew someone with that last name in high school.

“You can take your mask off in here by the way. Just set it on the side.” She nodded before leaving and you sat there for a few more moments, nervously shifting in your seat.

After a few minutes, you heard a soft knock on the door and you sat up straight, anticipating the man who would be taking care of you today.

The door opened and a man with soft chestnut hair that fell slightly in front of his face walked in, thin-framed glasses sat promptly on top of his nose, covered by a black mask. He hadn’t looked up from the clipboard that was in his hands as he kicked the door closed with his foot gently, tattooed fingers holding up the top page as his eyes skimmed rapidly over the words.

“How’s it going? I’m Dr. Davis.” His voice fell from his lips in a firm but gentle tone and your eyes widened in surprise as you remembered the faint lisp at the end of his ‘s’, and the twang in his accent.

“Hi,” you whispered as you absorbed his image, eyes skimming over his white coat that draped down his long body. The light-blue button-up sat tightly against his neck. You swallowed gently at the ink that crawled just above the collar, sinched between a black tie traced with binary code as the pattern.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked with a curious tone, gaze immediately leaving the page as his orbs met your own, and your heart raced as his ochre eyes bore into yours.

His professionalism dropped slightly as his eyes skimmed over your face in recognition, and your lips parted slightly. He stood still, frozen in remembrance before he coughed, setting the clipboard on the counter and taking a seat next to his computer.

Noah Sebastian Davis is your doctor.

He immediately avoided your gaze as your face began to warm, and you crossed your legs, feeling vulnerable under his authority as he sat there, distracting himself with his computer.

Your high school hookup is your doctor.

“Well,” He began typing, a soft waver barely evident in his voice, “It’s been a long time.”

“Thirteen years,” You licked your lips quickly, smiling shyly as you stared at your legs, glancing up every so often to steal a look at your doctor. You felt even more nervous than before as the man who sat in front of you eventually turned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he watched you intensely.

“Look, let’s just keep this professional. If you’re more comfortable with someone else I can get another doctor in here.” He said monotonously, leaning over his lap as his elbows rested on his knees.

You mustered a small smile as your chest hammered, eyes grazing across the tattoos embedded into his fingers Memories of the way they used to dance along your skin left your stomach swirling.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind…” Your thoughts trailed off as you looked at the ground, “if you don’t mind?”

Dr. Davis maintained strict eye contact, his voice proper and fixed, “It’s my job to remain professional and competent. I strive for nothing but efficiency, and I’ll have you in and out Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Miss,” You corrected quietly, picking at your nails again.

Something flashed across his eyes at the realization, and your ears flushed as you adjusted yourself on the examination table.

He turned on the chair again, fingers tapping on the keyboard.

“Let’s go through some medical history to clarify things under your files. It seems you usually have Dr. Thomas, am I correct?”

You hummed in confirmation, nodding along.

“Any health concerns to bring up in your visit today?”

You shook your head, “Just a routine check-up and a pap smear.”

Dr. Davis nodded along, shifting in his seat at the mention of a pap, his hand reaching to pull against his collar as if loosening the tension that was building within the room.

“Any issues regarding mental health?”

You shook your head.

“Eating and drinking well?”

You nodded.

“Any allergies?”

You shook your head.

“Sexually active?”

You noticed his voice hither slightly, as he glanced over at you briefly, before fixating his eyes on the computer again.

“Not like, regularly.”

He shifted in his seat, nodding.

“Multiple partners?”

“Uhm,” you began to stutter nervously at his questions, “A few. Not frequently changing.”

It was a routine check-up, you reminded yourself. Doctors asked these questions.

You shrugged, eyes skimming up towards him again as his eyes bore into you once again, your abdomen clenching as his gaze darkened.

“How many since me?”

You coughed, caught off guard as you stared at him in disbelief, “P-pardon?”

He didn’t repeat the question, but instead continued typing, clicking away at your file.

“Three,” You then said, watching him carefully and he hummed in response.

“Anything else you think I should know?” He asked, returning to his cool, professional composure.

You shook your head again, watching as his chest heaved slowly as he stood up. He grabbed the stethoscope that hung around his neck, and you watched as he placed the ends in his ears before standing in front of you, maintaining a distance.

“Let me check your lungs… can you take your jacket off?” He asked, watching you carefully as you peeled off the layer, placing it to the side.

Dr. Davis then sat next to you on the examination table and your heart began to pick up pace at the proximity of his body, his cologne melting into your senses.

His shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned behind you to place the end of the stethoscope on top of your back.

He asked you to take in a deep breath, and you inhaled swiftly, attempting to exhale in a slow, controlled pattern; but the breath that left your lungs was shaky and uneven.

“Sorry,” you whispered, and he ran the stethoscope across your back again, this time placing it underneath your shirt, the cold metal causing a shiver to run down your body.

“Three more,” He asked gently and you obliged, each breath faltering again as your heart raced.

There was no doubt he could hear the thump of your heart pick up as his warm fingers gently skimmed your skin as he controlled the stethoscope; knowing how nervous his proximity made you.

He pulled away, staring at your flushed face before leaning behind you to grab an ear otoscope.

“Just going to check your ears,” he said as his warm hands pulled along your ear, his warm breath creating goosebumps along the skin in your neck as the hairs stood up.

Your stomach butterflied as he then grabbed a wooden popsicle stick, standing in front of you now, placed between your legs.

“open,” he commanded and you obliged, sticking out your tongue and making an ‘ah’ sound.

Dr. Davis held underneath your chin to look up at him as he placed the wood on top of your tongue, pressing down slightly. Your abdomen clenched as a rush of emotions ran through your body, making eye contact with the tattooed doctor as he stared back, not even looking at the back of your throat as your mouth was agape, open widely for him.

You wanted nothing more than to reach up and pull against the fabric of his mask, greedily wanting to expose his lips to see the rest of his face and smile, to see how handsome he had gotten with age.

Your chest heaved as his fingers slid from underneath your chin, trailing down your throat with firm but gentle fingertips, the tension between you building as seconds passed by. He pulled back his hand, along with the popsicle stick, and your mouth closed slowly as he took a step back.

As he turned from you, the way he slid his hand into his pocket to readjust himself didn’t go unnoticed, before he faced you again, nodding curtly.

“I’ll let you get undressed from the waist down. You can place this blanket over yourself, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He averted his gaze as he opened the door, closing it gently behind him.

You let out a breath as your mind began to race. The way your mind kept tracing back to years of messing around with him in high school sent your stomach into a lustful spiral, the warmth of his inked fingers relighting years of memories he engraved into your skin.

Noah had given you years of orgasms, some of the best you ever had. None of your other lovers had compared to him, and your body knew this, sparking complete excitement at his presence once again.

You shifted on your feet embarrassed at this, peeling off your jeans as you folded them neatly on the chair. You slid off your black panties, placing them on top of your pants before lying down on the bed, the cool air causing you to shiver.

Or perhaps, it was the fact Noah was going to be extremely close to your intimate space after so many years of deprivation.

You two hooked up on and off for years during adolescence, never forming a relationship beyond that; even though you always wanted to.

You always had feelings for Noah, but you knew he wanted nothing more than to fuck you senselessly, and then part ways. No strings attached.

After high school graduation, you two parted, never speaking to each other again. You had always wondered what he had gone off and set to do, and being a doctor was honestly the last thing you’d think he’d do. Noah had always been extremely smart, but it still came as a complete shock when he was the one who walked through that wooden door just fifteen minutes prior.

You covered yourself with the thin blanket and a moment later Dr. Davis came through the door again, glancing at your exposed legs before turning to grab a pair of gloves from the counter.

You watched him intensely as he pulled the latex over his fingers, almost drooling at the thought of them running along your folds. You shook away the thought, knowing that you would be completely dripping by the time he would be sitting between your legs, examining you.

The last thing you wanted was for him to know the effect he still had on you, even after all these years.

He made eye contact with you again, tugging at the tie around his neck once again as he took the chair, rolling it to the edge of your feet. Before sitting he pulled out the stirrups.

“You can rest your heels on here,” He pointed to the plastic, and you noticed how his ears began to flush red, his chest rising and falling quickly as he glanced into your eyes once again.

When he looked away you glanced down at his black slacks, swallowing harshly at the bold outline of his erection that was extremely evident, through his tight pants.

You swallowed as you slowly lifted your legs, exposing yourself to the man who now sat at the end of the bed, the thin blanket sliding down your thighs gently, leaving your body on display for Dr. Davis.

“Fuck.”

The word was barely audible. He had whispered it so quietly through gritted teeth, but you still managed to hear the four-letter word, and it sent another rush of warm lust through your body.

“I-I’m just going to examine you before inserting the speculum.” Dr. Davis’ professional tone faltered briefly, and you wanted to look down at him so badly.

You knew that he was aroused, but you had no idea how badly Noah wanted to tear into your pussy right then and there.

For years Noah wondered what happened to you. After years of dedication to med school, he didn’t have much time to form relationships, and he usually had a quick fuck here and there to tie over his cravings. He reminisced frequently about how good you felt wrapped around his cock, all of his past flings never making him feel quite how you did.

This morning when he agreed to substitute at the clinic he had no idea what to expect. You were the last thing he thought would happen, and the second he read your name on that piece of paper as he entered your room he felt his mind begin to spiral.

How was he supposed to remain professional around you?

His biggest regret was never pursuing anything further with you years ago, worried that if feelings got involved he would lose the best thing he ever had. In turn, he fucked himself over in the end, because he had lost you either way; but now, you were right here in front of him, naked and on display.

The second he saw you sitting on the exam table he felt an immediate rush to his pants, his mind racing as he began to sweat, the room suddenly feeling stuffy and tight. He couldn’t help but watch your lips as they parted when you talked, memories of them wrapped around himself as your tongue slid up and down his length leaving him unable to concentrate as he attempted to read your file.

He watched as you shifted nervously in front of him when he checked your lungs, heart racing rapidly under his touch. He wanted to rip your thighs apart, slipping his fingers into you, wanting to leave you begging.

Noah wanted to pull his name from your lips; leaving you worshiping him, needing him.

He kept reminding himself that he was a professional now and that it was unacceptable to push the boundary of client-patient professionalism. There was a code of conduct and ethics he was required to follow; but he wanted to forget years of practice, just to get a taste of you.

You lay there, trying to keep your heavy breathing quiet; but you immediately gasped as one of his covered fingers spread you open, barely touching your skin, afraid to go further.

You closed your mouth tightly, biting the inside of your cheek as you scolded yourself.

Don’t fucking moan, don’t fucking moan. He barely touched you.

“I’m going to insert the speculum now,” He said quietly, and you heard him whisper another sentence to himself, “God, you don’t even need lube…”

You knew that he knew how turned on you were by just his presence alone, and you closed your eyes as Dr. Davis inserted the plastic into your body, the feeling of fullness causing you to chew on your bottom lip.

Dr. Davis clicked the hinges as the speculum opened you up, and you covered your mouth with your hand, something Noah had noticed.

“Are you in pain?” He asked gently, and you shook your head.

“N-no, I-I’m okay.”

He hummed again, and it was quiet for a moment.

There was a lack of movement for a second until you felt a gloved finger brush across your clit slowly, and you furrowed your brows in anticipation.

Fuck, that had to be an accident, right?

You tried to think rationally about the situation, but your thoughts trailed to dirty places, silently pleading that Dr. Davis would press against your intimacy again.

Noah had listened for your reaction as he sat before your legs that held you splayed open for him, his mind battling. He swallowed hungrily.

You felt his fingers brush against you again and your thighs jolted to his touch, before you felt the pad of his finger press firmly against you, tracing small circles as he tried drawing a moan from your lips.

Your mouth fell open in satisfaction as your body clenched, Dr. Davis’ fingers rubbing faster and faster.

You couldn’t help it as a gentle whimper crawled from your chest, and with furrowed brows, you bucked your hips into his touch; giving him the permission he desperately wanted.

You felt the speculum being removed, and seconds later a wet swipe trailed up along your folds.

“Oh my god,” You whispered and Dr. Davis hummed, his lips latching onto your sweet spot before two gloved fingers slid into you, curling upwards.

You began to moan again, pulling the blanket away to see the brunette devouring your body. He looked up at you with lustful eyes, his mask pulled underneath his chin.

You ogled upon seeing his entire face, brows furrowed with desire as he remained stone cold.

“If you moan loudly one more time I’ll stop.” He said as he began licking your body once again, eyes fixated on your own.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?” He said, pulling his mouth away as he continued to pump his fingers in and out rapidly, taking his thin glasses off and placing them on the table.

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised, burying himself between your legs again in famish, devouring you feverishly with complete craving.

Your legs began to shake from his praise and you covered your mouth with your hands as your hips pushed into Dr. Davis’ touch, completely engulfed with euphoria.

You didn’t know that he was palming himself through his slacks as he ate you out, desperate for friction, desperate for you to be the one touching him instead.

“Cum.” He demanded, and in a second his tongue swiped along your folds you felt the knot that he built release, elation washing through you as you choked back a desiring cry.

Your free hand gripped Dr. Davis’ hair as you pulled him closer, rubbing yourself along his face as he ate you until it became too much, pushing him away.

He stood up, mouth agape and wet from your release as you watched him with yearning, both your chests heaving.

He hastily began pulling off his white coat, throwing it to the floor as you watched him loosen his tie. Sitting up you beckoned him over and his fingers gripped your throat, pulling you towards him as his forehead rested against your own.

You looked into each other’s eyes as unspoken words danced between you, both of you needing each other but too afraid to speak.

He held you firmly for a moment before pulling your lips to his own, kissing you completely with need and hunger, forcing you to taste yourself

You groaned quietly into his lips as your tongues ran along each other, your fingers shaky as you began unbuttoning his blue dress shirt.

His fingers tightened around your neck as your hands trailed to the hem of his black pants, tugging at his waistband as you pulled apart his belt, sliding the zipper down slowly.

He moaned softly as your fingers slid along his abdomen, threatening to dip in to grab where he needed you.

“You’re in no position to tease princess, remember that,” He squeezed your neck again as he towered over you in authority, and you smiled.

“This is wrong.”

“So wrong.” He mumbled before kissing you in desperation again, your minds fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.

Dr. Davis’ hands pulled your shirt over your head as he pulled back, taking in the image of your exposed body, ready for him.

His covered fingers found their way to your core once again, slipping in and out as you pulled down his underwear, his body hard and ready to devour you.

You licked your fingers, smiling up at him as he watched with lustful eyes, before grabbing hold of his erection, pumping up and down as he thrust into your hand in eagerness. He pulled his fingers in and out of you quickly, your mouth falling open as you watched each other, pleasing one another.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Dr. Davis pleaded, and you opened your thighs farther.

“That’s it… Wider,” He whispered, before pulling his hands away from you, wrapping them around himself as he positioned his body to yours.

Dr. Davis didn’t hesitate any longer before he pushed into you, a loud whimper leaving you. His eyebrows furrowed angrily as his gloved hand covered your mouth, pushing you back into the wall.

“Be fucking quiet,” He said through gritted teeth, his chest heaving as he continued to thrust into you, filling your body, claiming you as his own.

He tore into your skin with his motions, the feeling of him pulling out before pushing back in deeply causing your legs to clench shut. He pushed them open with the hand that wasn’t covering your mouth.

“I said to spread them,” He scolded, fingers digging into your thigh before he slapped the top of your intimacy, earning a yelp from you as your body jolted from the contact.

He remained cold and composed, attempting to keep up his professional facade that was beginning to crumble before you. His eyes squeezed shut as he pushed your thighs back towards your chest, opening you as he fucked your body with possession.

You watched his head tilt back, exposing the tattoos on his neck as his lips fell open in complete satisfaction.

Your body felt perfectly wrapped around him, years of need ready to release into you.

Dr. Davis wanted to flip you over so you stood in front of him, one leg lifted onto the bed as he gripped your ass and pounded you; but he knew that right now, he needed to watch your face contort in pleasure for him, from him.

Your body clenched around him, “Dr. D-Davis,” You whimpered, still trying to remain quiet so as to not be heard by the rest of the clinic.

“Noah,” the brunette growled, bringing you into a kiss and you nodded, murmuring his name back to him against his lips in a plea.

He was close to his release, but he held back, waiting to pull another orgasm from you before he would bring you to your knees, ready to cum down your throat.

“You can do it, that’s a good girl.” He praised and you melted at his words, letting go as he thrust into you one more time, your body completely enveloping him as your mouth was covered by his hand once again to mask your screams. Your body shook through the orgasm Noah offered you.

He slid in and out slowly, before pulling away. His fingers were threaded through your hair as he guided you to the floor, placing you on your knees.

You took him into your mouth mercilessly, sucking and bobbing along his length before he gripped your face, pulling you closer.

You gagged along him, tears forming as a deep growl rumbled from his chest, signalling he was close.

Seconds later Noah’s release coated the back of your throat, and you swallowed his orgasm, looking up at him in commitment.

“You’ve always been mine to ruin,” He said, panting as he pulled you off of him, and you sat on the ground, smiling up at him.

The two of you got dressed in silence, the hormones lingering in the air as he pulled off the gloves, grabbing his prescription notepad and a pen.

“I wasn’t able to get a good enough sample to send off to the lab,” He said, scribbling away, “I’ll need you to meet me at my office this weekend.”

Dr. Davis handed you the note and you looked at the paper, staring at the phone number and address as he nodded toward you, opening the wooden door and leaving the office.

hshshgsghshghsshgh ok i am a mess

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d  @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch

[fairqves]

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────HOLD ME, CONSOLE ME, AND THEN I’LL LEAVE WITHOUT A TRACE.

(🪽) ── 𝓙EONG JAEHYUN﹙정재현﹚ ꒰ 𝓰. oneshot ៸ heavy angst ៸ ୨୧ㅤㅤ WARNiNGS : not proofread ៸ kissing ៸ suggestive ៸ terminal illness ៸ major character death❞ terminally ill! jaehyun x 𝑓! reader ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ꒰ WC : 3.7K ꒱ SYPNoSiS 𐙚 in which you and jaehyun make the most of his last days, or in which two lovers stick together side by side until his very last breath .ᐟ HEAVILY INSPIRED BY MR. PLANKTON ── LiBRARY

THE FROST-BITTEN AIR GENTLY NIPPED AT YOUR CHEEKS—

painting them a flushed pink that contrasted with the blank white of the world around you.

the sun had barely risen, almost touching the horizon, reflecting the light that painted the snow in soft shades of lavender and blue.

it was early, the world felt untouched, as if the field of snow you stood in had been created just for the two of you.

not a sound interrupted the silence—even the trees seemed to hold their breath denying the chilly wind.

jaehyun stood a few feet away, motionless, with a small smile that pulled at the corners of his lips.

his dark hair, now speckled with tiny flakes of snow, caught the morning glow, making him look almost ethereal. ─ 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

he wore a thick wool coat over layers of sweaters, yet his cheeks were flushed from the cold, the tip of his nose tinted red.

he looked like he was a part of the winter landscape — wild, beautiful, and breathtaking.

his eyes, deep and expressive, held a glimmer of mischief as they met yours—you felt a sudden urge to run to him, to close the space that stretched between you.

the desire wasn’t just physical but also from the knowledge that each moment was precious, each heartbeat more sacred than the last.

“come here,” he called out, his voice low but filled with admiration, cutting through the cold and reaching you as if it were a lifeline.

the way he looked at you made warmth bloom deep inside, a contrast to the chill that clung to your skin.

you took a step forward, then another, the snow beneath your boots crunching softly with each movement.

the air was so crisp that it felt like the world around you would shatter if touched too roughly.

as you closed the distance, he reached out, fingers gloved and trembling slightly, whether from the cold or something else, you weren’t sure.

the second his hands met your waist, he pulled you into him, and the rest of the world went quiet.

the familiar scent of pine and the faint trace of cedarwood from his cologne enveloped you, grounding you in the moment.

his embrace was firm, as if he could shield you from everything—from time, from fate, from the cruel inevitability that loomed over you both.

his heartbeat, steady and rhythmic, beat against your ear where your head rested on his chest.

for a moment, you closed your eyes, letting the pleasant sound seep into your bones, memorizing the way it felt to be held by him, as if it was the only thing that mattered.

“you always feel so warm,” you murmured, voice muffled by the layers of fabric between you.

he chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through his chest.

“it’s because you’re always freezing,” he teased, his breath ghosting against your temple—there was an emphasis in his tone that made you smile despite the tightness in your throat.

he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, the laughter fading as an intensity took its place.

his gloved hands came up to cup your face, the soft wool as gentle as the way he touched you.

his gaze searched yours, as if trying to read the silent words hidden there, the fear neither of you spoke aloud.

“don’t,” you started, but he shook his head, a sad smile crossing his features.

he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead that felt like a promise and a farewell wrapped in one.

“just for today, let’s forget,” he whispered, the plea in his voice striking a chord deep within you.

it was the same thing you’d been doing—pretending that each moment wasn’t a step closer to the inevitable.

but today, in this silent, untouched world of white, you nodded.

“yes. just for today.”

snowflakes fell lazily from the sky, each one catching the dim light and twirling in the breeze.

you watched as jaehyun scooped up a handful of snow, his eyes sparkling with a playfulness that sent a burst of warmth through your chest.

before you could react, a snowball hit your arm, shattering into a dust of cold that made you gasp.

“jaehyun!” you laughed, the sound cutting through the stillness, going along with his own—it was an easy sound, one you hadn’t made in what felt like ages.

the worry and heaviness that constantly took place in your chest loosened, replaced by this moment of pure, reckless joy.

he grinned at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he threw another snowball, this time aiming for your shoulder.

you ducked and retaliated, grabbing a handful of snow and launching it at him—it hit his chest, and he staggered back dramatically, one hand going to his heart as if wounded.

“you got me,” he said, pretending to collapse into the snow—he laid there for a second, staring up at the sky, the flakes of snow settling onto his lashes and the dark hair splayed around his head like a halo.

something tightened in your chest at the sight of him so still, eyes closed as if he were surrendering to some invisible force.

“hey,” you whispered, moving closer and kneeling by his side—the concern must have shown on your face because his eyes fluttered open, and he reached up to take your hand.

“i’m here,” he said softly, squeezing your fingers, his eyes searched yours—filled with something unspoken, something heavy.

you squeezed back, the weight of it pressing down on you as you sat there, the cold seeping through your clothes but failing to reach your heart, which burned in pain.

“i know,” you replied, voice barely a breath—it was all you could say, the words you wanted to utter caught in the back of your throat, tangled with the ache that never seemed to leave.

suddenly, he sat up, pulling you into his lap with a laugh that eased the tension—his arms came around you, solid and warm, and he buried his face in your neck, sighing as if he could inhale you whole and keep you with him forever.

“you’re my everything,” he said, voice muffled against your skin.

you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his words seep into the broken places within you.

“you always say that, jae.” you teased lightly, trying to mask the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes.

he pulled back, the mischievous glint returning as he brushed his nose against yours, his eyelashes kissing your skin, making you giggle.

“and i’ll keep saying it until you believe me,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

it was gentle and soft— as if savoring the moment.

all the love, fear, and desperation you both held spilled into it—his warm hands cupped your face, his breath coming in warm puffs against your mouth as he kissed you like it was the only thing keeping him tied to this world.

when he pulled away, the both of you were giggling, faces inches apart.

the snow continued to fall around you, blanketing the world in silence, as if it, too, were holding its breath for you.

the warmth of the cabin enveloped you as soon as you walked in, its wooden walls creaking under the weight of snow settling on the roof.

a fire crackled, the flames reflecting flickering shadows that displayed across the cozy space.

you shrugged off your coat, the chill clinging stubbornly to your clothes as jaehyun closed the door behind you with a soft thud.

he leaned against it for a moment, watching you with an unreadable expression.

the air was filled with a familiar scent—pine, cedar, and something unmistakably jaehyun—it wrapped around you like a second skin, grounding you in the reality of the moment.

he stepped forward, each movement deliberate, until he was close enough that you could see the glimmer of gold in his dark eyes.

he reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear, the back of his fingers brushing against your skin and sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

his touch lingered, and then he traced the curve of your jaw, down to your chin, before tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

the firelight cast warm hues across his face, illuminating the soft details of his face.

“are you warm enough?” he asked, his voice quiet and soft, each word dripping with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

you nodded, unable to look away as his thumb brushed across your cheek.

“i am now,” you whispered, the words coming out like a confession—the corner of his mouth pointed up in a half smile, and before you could say anything else, he leaned in.

his lips found yours, warm and firm, and the world around you shrank to the small space you shared.

the kiss was slow, as if he were memorizing the feel of you all over again—his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies.

you responded in kind, fingers finding their way into his hair, tugging gently as the kiss deepened.

the sensation was intoxicating, a mix of fire and ice as the warmth from his touch battled the remnants of cold still clinging to your skin.

he broke away just enough to press his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow puffs that matched your own.

his eyes fluttered open, dark and smoldering, searching yours with an intensity that made your pulse race.

“i wish i could make time stop,” he murmured, his voice a quiet whisper that sent an overload of love for the boy through you. “just for us.”

for a moment, the weight of that statement settled between you, heavy and unspoken.

you didn’t have to say anything—the unshed tears in your eyes were enough.

he kissed you again, this time with a quiet desperation that spoke of things left unsaid and time slipping away too fast.

his hands traced the curve of your back, fingers pressing into the fabric of your sweater as if he were anchoring himself to you.

the world outside could have disappeared, and you wouldn’t have noticed—there was only the warmth of the fire, the steady beat of jaehyun’s heart against yours, and the quiet promise held in the way his lips moved with yours—that for now, this moment was enough.

he led you to the edge of the rug in front of the fire, the heat from the flames painting a soft glow over your intertwined forms.

the quiet crackle of burning wood provided a rhythm as he eased you down, the weight of him pressing you into the plush surface.

his hands were everywhere, sliding down your arms, brushing over your sides, the touch both comforting and electrifying.

every inch of you felt alive, hyper aware of him—the way his breath hitched when your fingers traced the edges of his jaw, the slight shiver that ran through him when your lips found the sensitive spot just below his ear.

you let yourself get lost in him, in the way he whispered your name like a prayer, in the way his eyes never left yours as he mapped out the curves of your face, memorizing each detail.

it was as if he were imprinting the memory of you onto his soul, a keepsake for the moments when memories would be all that remained.

“i’m here,” he said, voice breaking the silence, and for the first time, it felt as though those words carried a different meaning.

a promise not just for now but for all the moments he wished he could see but knew he might not.

you cupped his face, feeling the softness and warmth of his skin against your palms, and drew him down into another kiss.

it was slow, soft, and laced with emotions too heavy for words.

the crackle of the fire faded, the world outside ceased to exist, and there was only this—the touch of his hands, the warmth of his skin, and the unspoken understanding between you that this was both everything and never enough.

later, as the fire burned lower and the cabin was bathed in a dim, golden glow, you lay side by side, limbs tangled, listening to the quiet sound of his breathing.

his arm was draped over your waist, fingers absently tracing patterns along your hip.

you tilted your head to look at him, studying the profile that had become more familiar than your own reflection.

the curve of his nose, the tips of his lashes, the subtle curve of his lips—all committed to your memory.

he suddenly opened his eyes—catching you looking, a soft smile making its way to his mouth as he turned his head.

“what are you thinking about now?” he asked, voice barely above a murmur.

you hesitated, the truth lodged in your throat like a stone. “about you,” you admitted finally. his smile faltered, just for a moment, and you knew he understood what you really meant.

“i’m still here,” he said again, his voice a touch firmer as if willing it to be true for longer than either of you dared to hope.

you reached out and threaded your fingers through his, squeezing gently.

“i know,” you said, and this time, the silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable—it was full, rich with all the things you wanted to say but didn’t have to.

the fire crackled again, a log splitting and sending a brief shower of sparks into the air, and he winced, a small frown on his brow.

“jaehyun?” concern sharpened your voice as you propped yourself up on one elbow—his eyes met yours, the flicker of pain replaced by an apology so quick you might have missed it if you hadn’t been looking.

“just tired,” he said, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes—you didn’t press, but your heart squeezed painfully in your chest.

the cabin seemed to shrink, the warmth suffocating now as the weight of reality settled back in.

you lay back down, pressing closer to him as if proximity alone could live off what you both knew was coming.

his arm tightened around you, and you felt the soft press of his lips against your temple, the slight tremor in his hand where it rested on your hip.

“sleep,” he whispered, though you knew sleep was the farthest thing from either of your minds.

the sun went up bright and startlingly clear, the sunlight bouncing off the snow and turning the field into a magical expanse of white.

it was almost blinding, the kind of brightness that forced you to squint, making everything around you look dreamlike.

you and jaehyun had wandered out to this quiet place, drawn by the beauty of the morning, its serenity a thin veil over the tension neither of you spoke of.

jaehyun’s laughter rang out, a sound so free and uninhibited that it stirred something in your chest, a bittersweet ache that you tried to push away.

he reached down and scooped up a handful of snow, rolling it between his palms until it formed a perfect ball.

the playfulness in his eyes made your heart skip, and you found yourself grinning despite the unease that sat heavy in your stomach.

before you could react, he tossed the snowball your way—it hit your shoulder, exploding into a flurry of ice crystals that shimmered in the sunlight.

you gasped, more in surprise than shock, and bent down to retaliate, your gloved hands packing the snow with practiced ease.

the chase was on—two lovers running through the snow, laughter mingling with the cold, crisp air as if you were children and nothing else mattered.

“come and catch me,” he called, his breath visible in the icy air, voice full of mischief.

he moved with a grace that belied the truth you both carried, the secret that had stolen his strength in so many moments.

but today, he was radiant, a force that seemed to defy the frailty you knew he felt.

you lunged forward, grabbing his arm, and he spun, taking you down with him into the snow.

you landed in a tangle of limbs, breathless and laughing, the cold seeping through your clothes.

you looked up at him, and for a second, the world fell away—his eyes met yours, dark and warm, filled with a kind of determination filled with love that made you shiver.

then, as quickly as the moment came, something changed—a flicker of pain passed across his face, barely perceptible, but you saw it.

his smile faltered, and his eyes squeezed shut for a heartbeat too long.

“jaehyun?” your voice, once playful, now edged with panic.

you pushed yourself up on your elbows, the snow crunching beneath you as he slumped forward, one hand clutching his temple.

he opened his eyes, and there was a new kind of fear there, one that mirrored your own—he tried to smile, a wry, defeated curve of his lips.

“i’m okay,” he managed, the words thin, as if the air had been sucked from his lungs.

“no, no you’re not,” you whispered, a tremor of anxiety and brokenness in your voice.

you reached for him as he dropped to his knees, the snow beneath him stained with the shadow of a moment you both dreaded.

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you.

his skin was cold, too cold, and you could feel the tremor in his jaw.

he looked at you then, really looked, as if he were trying to memorize your face—his eyes softened, and a tear slipped down his cheek, catching the light like a fragile piece of glass.

“i’m sorry,” he said, the words sad and broken. “i wanted more time.”

the world froze as you shook your head, tears falling freely now. “no, don’t say that. we’re not done yet. we’re not, please jae…” your voice cracked, and you felt as if you were falling apart from the inside out.

his hand, trembling but warm, cupped your face.

the pressure was gentle, but it anchored you, it kept you from falling apart.

he pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closed as he drew in a shaky breath. “i want to live. i want to love you for longer,” he whispered, and the way he said it, so full of longing and regret, shattered you.

“i love you, so so much—” you choked out, gripping his coat as if that alone could hold him here, keep him with you for eternity.

snowflakes landed on his lashes, melting as they met the heat of his tears.

he opened his eyes, and the smile he gave you was soft, tender, and heartbreaking.

“i know,” he whispered, and then, as if the weight of it all was too much, he crumpled forward into your arms.

“no, no, no,” you cried, the sound raw and jagged, cutting through the silence.

the snow seemed to grow colder, biting at your skin as you held him, your hands shaking as you brushed the hair back from his forehead.

his eyes were closed, face peaceful in a way that made everything inside you scream.

the sky, once so bright, seemed to dim as a new wave of snow began to fall, soft and silent.

it covered you both, a gentle blanket that felt cruel in its calmness—you rocked him, whispered his name, and begged for the world to stop, to turn back, to give you just one more minute, one more breath.

but the snow fell, the wind grew harsher, and the silence pressed down, unyielding.

time lost meaning as you sat there, cradling him, your fingers numb and trembling as they traced the contours of his face.

his lashes, dark and damp, lay against his skin like ink on snow—you pressed your lips to his forehead, the touch lingering as if you could breathe life back into him.

“i’m here,” you whispered, echoing the words he always said—but now, they were hollow, empty promises that couldn’t change the truth.

when you finally looked up, the world felt different, smaller.

the trees stood as silent witnesses, their branches heavy with snow, bowing under the weight as if mourning with you.

the sky was pale, washed out, and endless, a contrast to the vibrant life that had just been there minutes ago.

your chest heaved with sobs you couldn’t hold back, each one tearing through you as you clutched jaehyun’s still form.

the world blurred through your tears, and all you could do was sit there, the warmth seeping from his body, replaced by the relentless cold of the snow.

and then, in the quiet, a memory surfaced—his voice, soft and teasing, the way he’d once laughed and said that the snow was beautiful because it made everything look new, untouched.

the memory cut through you, sharp and painful, but it was all you had left to hold onto.

“i love you,” you whispered one last time, the words lost in the wind as the snow continued to fall.

© FAIRQVES 2024 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

NOTE. i’m so sorry for the angst guys but like mr plankton fr got me fucked up. idk how im gonna sit through class tmrw without thinking about them or go to taylors concert next month and listen to all too well IM IN SHAMBLESSS T-T

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft @ancnymcnzjy : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

[piedinthepiper]

Your girl pt. 2 ☆

Yandere!Jungkook x Namjoons gf!reader

Summary: After the horrific stay at the resort you find it hard to forgive and forget. But when one thing leads to another you end up in the same position, but now without your boyfriends helping hand.

Warnings: noncon!, he’s waaaay crazier in this one, swearing, mention of mm, angst

Wc: 3.2k

| pt. 1 |

A/n: I’ve been so bad at writing lately, I’ve taken a little break so I really just needed to get this out. I’m working here and there on your reqs I just have no motivation. Hope you enjoy this tho, cause I do!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

“Have a good day, sweetheart.”

Namjoon said and kissed your forehead. You smiled at him. It was a calm Saturday morning. All you wanted was to cuddle up to your new fiancé, watch a few movies and eat snacks. But Namjoon was called into work for an emergency, so it looked like you would be watching and eating alone.

“Do you have to leave?”

You pouted at him as he started putting on his shoes. He smiled at you and kissed you softly on the lips, cupping your face.

“I really don’t want to.”

You nodded understandingly. He turned around to reach for his jacket, but found that the jacket he usually wore wasn’t were it was supposed to be. He reached for another one.

“By the way, do you think you can stop by Jungkooks place today? I left my jacket there last week and I need it for tonight.”

You looked at him, not sure what to answer. It was a year since the incident at the resort. But you still felt uncomfortable around Jungkook sometimes. Especially when you were alone with him.

“Baby, it’s been a year.”

“I know.”

You answered quickly, wiping your tired face with your hands.

“And he apologised. You were the one that told me to forgive him.”

You bit your lip, zoning out and focusing on the floor instead of replying.

“It’s fine, if you don’t want to you don’t have to. I’ll wear another coat tonight.”

He reassured you, before kissing your forehead yet again and opening the door.

“I’ll see you tonight, love you.”

He said before stepping outside and closing the door. You stood there for a few seconds. Still zoned out. Why were you so afraid of Jungkook? Like Namjoon said, he apologised. He told you he would never do it again. He would still be the same Jungkook you remembered from middle school. Right?

“I’m so sorry, y/n! Please- I don’t know what came over me!”

Jungkook was on the floor crying his eyes out, bowing at your feet. You had just told the guys what he had done after they had overheard parts of the conversation. Namjoon did not take it lightly, grabbing Jungkook and pushing him against the wall. He had screamed in his face, told him to say sorry to you, and to never get near you again. Once that was over Jungkook fell to his feet, and now he was on the floor, crying and begging.

“Please forgive me! I’m so stupid! I never meant for this to happen!”

You looked down at him. Still in only his wet bathing shorts. You sighed.

“Get up, Jungkook.”

You told him, and he finally looked up at you. His eyes were red and his eyelashes had started sticking together from all the tears. But he did listen, and he got up.

“Do you mind giving us some privacy?”

You asked kindly, and looked over at the three guys standing by the door. All were still in shock. Namjoon, who was standing in front of them with his arms crossed, looked back at them with a strict look. The guys trembled and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

“Come here.”

You said to Jungkook and opened your arms with a towel. He let you drape him in it, covering up his naked torso. You made him sit down on the bed, trying to calm him down.

“I forgive you, ok?”

“I don’t!”

Namjoon interrupted with his deep voice. You looked over at him.

“Namjoon please, he’s crying his eyes out.”

You told your boyfriend strictly.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. You know I would never do anything to ruin our friendship. But I was still stupid enough to do so.”

He bowed his head down, starting to cry even more. You sat down on the bed beside him.

“I promise this will be in the past. We can continue our friendship like this never happened, ok?”

His eyes lit up. How great.

You were outside Jungkooks apartment. You decided that this was the time you healed your relationship with him. You couldn’t keep running away from it. Either you followed your promise, or you would have to cut him out completely. One last chance. You rang his doorbell. It took a few seconds before his voice came through the speakers.

“Who is it?”

You turned towards the voice and went up to the camera.

“It’s me.”

You said and went really close to the little camera, trying to joke with him like the two of you always did. He didn’t laugh, he sounded surprised instead. But not in a good way.

“Y/n?! What are you doing here?”

He asked shocked. You took a step back.

“Can you just let me in? It’s raining!”

“Give me a second!”

Jungkook wasn’t expecting you. He wasn’t expecting anyone, but definitely not you. He knew what happened at the resort a year ago made you question him, even if you told him it was ok. So when you asked to come in he quickly found his abandoned sweatpants on the floor. He had definitely not been jerking off to your Instagram just minutes before you were outside his door. He placed the dishes hurriedly in the sink to hide them, before he ran over to the door and pressed the button. He straightened the pillows on the sofa while waiting for you to reach his apartment. A knock at the door. He combed his fingers through his hair before taking a deep breath.

“Hi!”

You went in for a hug, and he was honestly caught off guard. Something inside him felt like you hated him since the incident. He at least hated himself for revealing everything to you so quickly. If he could’ve just taken you out for a nice dinner and told you about his feelings in a romantic way, you would probably be his fiancé now, not Namjoons.

“Y/n, it’s nice to see you again.”

He said once you broke off the short hug, that he honestly wanted to last forever. You smelled so good, and only you could manage to look good in yoga pants and a hoodie. Namjoon’s hoodie he noted. You would look even better in his own.

“I brought you an iced americano.”

You said and handed him the drink. You were always so considerate.

“Such an angel.”

You laughed awkwardly at his statement and he mentally cursed himself.

“I just came to get Namjoon’s jacket. He said he left it here a week ago.”

He knew exactly what jacket you were talking about, but he gave you a puzzled look regardless.

“I don’t remember seeing a jacket.”

He told you as if he was completely clueless.

“Why don’t you come in? I’ll look for it after I’ve had the americano.”

You smiled at him and started removing your shoes.

“Great!”

The two of you sat down on his sofa. You took a sip of your iced tea before placing it on the table.

“So, why didn’t Namjoon come for his own jacket? Lazy move to send his own girlfriend for the job.”

He laughed. You laughed back before crossing your legs and getting more comfortable.

“Job emergency I’m afraid. He won’t be home until 8.”

He could tell it upset you.

“I’m more than just his girlfriend now you know.”

The disappointment on your face turned into giddiness as you looked at your hand, carrying a gorgeous ring.

“As his fiancé I’ll have to take the shit jobs as well.”

You said and laughed. You looked so good, Jungkook couldn’t help but look at you. It’s like he fell in love all over again every time you laughed.

“Wow, thanks y/n.”

He said sarcastically. You laughed even more.

“Let me see it.”

You stretched your arm towards him, letting him take your hand in his to inspect the expensive ring.

“Damn, that’s a nice ring.”

He pretended to inspect it for just a second longer. He liked the feeling of your soft hand in his.

“Well since you won’t be busy until 8, why don’t you stay here for a while? We can play video games and order some food later. Like back in the day.”

He saw a flash of doubt in your eyes. Was he too forward too soon? He was expecting a no, he was ready to go back to his room and jerk off to you yet again.

“Sure.”

You said and shrugged.

“But only if you cook me something. I’ve missed your food so much.”

He couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t understand how you do it? Everything you make is so good!”

You said and closed your eyes letting out a small satisfied moan. He let out a small laugh, adjusting his sweatpants after he felt them get tighter at your praise.

“What your fiancé can’t cook for you?”

He smirked. He knew Namjoon couldn’t cook, he just said it to tease you. And with the tilt of your head and upset eyes he knew he succeeded.

“Namjoon has many talents, cooking is not one of them.”

You laughed a little at your comment before taking another spoonful.

“If you were my fiancé I would’ve cooked for you every day.”

He tested the waters. Making sure to mumble, so that maybe you couldn’t even hear his remark. But you did. Of course you did. You were always so bright.

“Well you’re not.”

You answered bluntly. Jungkook felt his heart shatter at your words. He felt his blood boil. He made you dinner, how about a little gratitude?

“Could be.”

He quickly spit back, looking you deep in the eyes. You shook your head.

“We both know that’s not going to happen.”

Your eyes didn’t back down, winning his little game as he broke the eye contact and grabbed your plate.

“Why don’t we play Mario kart? Still think you can beat me?”

He said while washing the dishes. He knew he couldn’t get too upset with you, cause then you’d leave. And maybe never come back.

“We both know you’re the one that needs to beat me. I win ever single time.”

He looked back at you, a competitive smile plastered on your face.

“You won’t win this time.”

Time passed, and you had successfully beaten him five times. You jumped up from the sofa once you saw the results, cheering loudly at your victory.

“Who won? Huh? Tell me, Jungkook!”

You teased him, as you sat back down again. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m just letting you win so you won’t feel bad.”

He said as he started looking through the maps for the next round. You didn’t answer him, in fact you went completely quiet. He looked over at you. You were focused on your phone, your nails tapping against the screen as you were texting.

“Which map do you want to do next?”

He asked a little louder, slightly annoyed that your attention wasn’t on him. You didn’t look up from your phone.

“Hmm.”

Was the only answer you gave him. He put his controller down on the table and took a sip from his glass of wine. He was clearly upset now that you were ignoring him. He looked back at you.

“Who are you texting?”

He asked in almost a sour tone. You looked briefly up at him, before looking back down at your phone.

“Just my mom.”

Relief washed over his body, thankfully you weren’t texting your fiancé. Of course he would let you text her. He would love your parents as his in-laws.

“Let’s play.”

He said playfully before stealing your phone out of your hands. You looked confused at him, before you understood what he did.

“Jungkook, give it back!”

You laughed as your arms stretched out for your phone. He laughed back as he moved his arm further away.

“Then get it.”

You shook your head but crawled closer to him, tickling his side. He moved his upper body even further away from you. You sighed, but continued the fight. Unconsciously placing one of your hands on his thigh for support, as you stretched out over him. Even if you didn’t notice, he noticed. He moved his hand even further away, wanting to see if you would touch him more.

“Oh my god, just give me the phone!”

And within a second you were basically straddling his lap. Your hand got ahold of your phone, and you were about to retreat. But Jungkook was quicker. In the heat of the moment, he let go of the phone and used both his hands to push you down into his crotch. A small hiss escaped his mouth as he felt your heat touch his clothed dick.

“What are you doing?”

You asked him, still with a playful tone as if you thought it was an accident. Your hand found his that was tightly holding your hips as if they would run away if he let go. He knew you might run away if he let you go now.

“Jungkook, let go of me.”

The playfulness in your tone had started to fade. You started wiggling, trying to get out of his grasp. But stopped quickly once a moan escaped his lips.

“What the fuck!”

He didn’t know what to do, he had done it again and you were about to leave yet again.

“I won’t let you go, y/n! Not this time.”

You jumped as he rapidly stood up. His strong arms lifted you swiftly over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. It took a few seconds for you to comprehend what he was saying, but you quickly started to protest when you caught up.

“Let me down!”

You banged your fists against his large back. Wiggling the best you could. It was starting to freak you out that he seemed so serious, and that he was carrying you towards his bedroom.

“Jungkook, seriously! It’s not funny anymore.”

You said as he opened the door to his bedroom. It took maximum two seconds for him to throw you harshly down onto his bed. The bed creaked loudly at the impact.

“It was never a joke, y/n. I’m sick of pretending like I don’t fucking need you to be my girl!”

The last time you saw him this upset was at the resort.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood to argue with you right now.”

You started scooting towards the end of the bed. When Jungkook moved quickly towards the door you stopped in confusion.

“I’m not letting you leave.”

Your blood ran cold as you realised you could not be saved by Namjoon anymore. You didn’t tell him, or anyone for that matter, that you were going to Jungkook’s. Your breathing got heavier by the second as it dawned on you. You were fucked.

“You’re not leaving here until you understand that we’re meant for each other!”

He raised his voice even more now. Yelling at you in a way that made you look away. He scared you.

“I- I can’t fucking stand seeing you with him anymore. I’m sorry, y/n but I hate Namjoon for stealing you away from me. I hate that he made this so complicated. We were always meant to be. I’m sorry-“

“It’s ok, Jungkook. No need to get upset.”

You tried to calm him. Your fear speaking for you. His eyes met yours.

“Really?”

He asked, his eyes were glossy. You swallowed thickly, but nodded.

“It’s ok.”

Was all you could mutter. You practically jumped out of your skin as he crawled onto the bed. Your entire body stiffened as he sat down beside you. His arm swung around you like it belonged there. Uncomfortable silence filled the room for a beat.

“So we can be together now? You and me? Is that what you’re saying?”

He pulled you closer and closer, forcing you to lean into him. You looked down at the bed, simply not daring to answer the question truthfully. It didn’t help when you noticed the very visible tent in his grey sweatpants. You had to run.

“Of course.”

You managed to say, using all your willpower to look up at him and smile.

“I just really have to pee, ok?”

The panic in your voice was almost nowhere to be heard. You tried moving off the bed, but his grip was too strong.

“You’re being honest, right?”

He asked. You nodded yet again. Your focus turned to your nails. You had to look away from either his face or his hard on.

“Prove it.”

He almost whispered in your ear.

“Kiss me.”

His words were simple, but enough to send shivers down your spine.

“I’m sorry, I really have to-“

He grabbed your face and crashed his lips onto yours. You realised that you had no other choice but to kiss back passionately, and so you did. You placed your hand on his chest and deepened the kiss. Putting on your best performance. He moaned into the kiss. Finally he thought to himself. You tried pulling away, but were only met with a hand at the back of your head. Your heart was beating out of your chest for all the wrong reasons. You needed to convince him to let you leave the room. And with that you dreaded slowly moving your hands down his torso. Another moan escaped his lips when you placed a firm hand over his erection. That was the signal for his hands to start roaming as well, and once he tried to push you over his lap you finally got to pull away. You had never considered yourself an actress, but in that moment every instinct in your body told you to give the best performance of your life.

“I really want to fuck you, kookie.”

You whispered to him seductively. He started nodding hysterically.

“Do it, please just do it baby!”

You pouted at him.

“I just really have to go first. I won’t be able to enjoy our first time fully if I can’t use the toilet first.”

He pushed a strand of hair out of your face and smiled warmly towards you. To an outsider the two of you looked like nothing but lovers.

“Be quick, I want you so bad.”

You smiled and voluntarily pecked him on the lips to lay it on thick. You swayed your hips as you walked towards the door.

“Leave the bedroom door open.”

He said behind you. His lovey-dovey voice was suddenly really strict. He could see the bathroom door from the bed, he didn’t completely trust you. But you did as he said. Your heart was beating fast as you realised you could reach the front door if you just ran for it. And so you did.

“Y/n!”

An infuriated voice yelled after you. You heard his heavy footsteps hit the floor, sprinting closer. But you didn’t look back, you couldn’t do that now.

“You fucking bitch!”

A wave of relief washed over you as you reached for the door handle. You managed to pull it down and open it slightly before two large arms wrapped around you, slamming you against the door. You were able to reach the door, but not able to step outside the door.

“You fucking liar! You lied to me!”

He was beyond pissed off now. There was no calming him now, you had never seen him like this.

“I showed you my love and you just fucking used it to get away from me.”

He pressed you further and further against the cold door.

“I’ll show you y/n. I’ll fucking show you that you belong to me and me only. You’re my girl!”

——————————————————————————

Tag list:

@m7omo @vkjmjjk @insertsomethingaboutanimehere @darkuni63 @kimedicii @luvaryu @aenishas @milajeon @zera10

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[gremlin-girly]

Busy Morning

Pairing: Steve Rogers x gn!reader

Tags/Warnings: FLUFF, a meet cute of sorts, Steve being a little shit, but it's okay, it's cute, promise

Summary: No morning coffee means you are extra sleepy. Thankfully a kind stranger let's you sleep :)

Word count: 512

Not beta'd and I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or put through an AI machine.

A/N: totally not inspired by me almost falling asleep on the train to work this morning

Just a lil drabble from today. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Collection

You fought tooth and nail to stay awake.

You'd never been awake this early and what was worse, you'd missed your chance to grab a coffee for that extra dose of caffeine to stop yourself falling asleep on the train.

Swaying slightly in your seat, your heavy eyelids closing just for a moment. Sweet dreams of cotton wool and cosiness filled your sleepy brain as you drifted to sleep, your body betraying your brain and tricking it into a gentle snooze.

Just five minutes came the Dissonant voice of your conscience. You'll be fine.

What you didn't consider, however, was your unlucky seat neighbour who didn't know what to do when your head bumped his shoulder and opted to let you sleep for the duration of his journey.

You looked tired, sleep deprived even, and the cute expression you wore in your sleep made him smile to himself as he read his paper. Somehow, a stranger falling asleep on him wasn't the weirdest thing that had happened in his life, and the thought of your shocked face when you woke up made his heart skip with mischievious anticipation.

When your eyes fluttered open half an hour later, grumbling slightly at the disruption before having your heart drop to your feet thinking you'd missed your stop, you sat up straight. You wiped a small amount of drool on your chin away and looked wide eyed over at your seat neighbour and wished you could disappear.

It was Captain America.

You fell asleep on Captain America.

You drooled on America's hero.

"Omigosh," You gasp, clasping a hand over your mouth. "I'm so sorry."

The horror on your face was worth the wait, and Steve grinned over at you. "It's no problem. It's not everyday a pretty thing like you falls asleep on me. It actually makes a nice difference."

You squeak and cover your reddening face. "This is so embarassing."

"Busy night?" Steve asks folding his paper, tactfully ignoring your embarassment.

"Busy morning actually." You murmur, finally dropping your hands. "I forgot to get my coffee this morning."

"Ah, well, now it all makes sense." Steve chuckles, looking back to you and you fight the urge to hide in your coat. The annoying announcent calls put for the next stop and Steve points towards the doors. "This is me."

"Me too," you shrug bashfully. Steve stands, towering above you and offers you a hand up out of the narrow seats.

"If you're not too busy," he says casually as the doors beep and a small line of people begin to file out of the train car. "We could get that coffee now?"

"I feel like I owe you for drooling on you." You say with a smile.

"That does seem like a fair compromise." Steve nods, steeping onto the platform and offering you his hand again as you follow suit onto the platform.

Surely your boss wouldn't mind if you were a little late. After all, you owe Captain America a coffee and who are you to deny America's sweetheart a dose of caffeine?

[kurokawaia]

❛ The Balance ❜ ─ 01

Yandere!JugramHaschwalth X Fem!Quincy!Reader

WC; 2.6k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; yandere themes, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, kidnapping, coercion, reader is a virgin, reader acts dumb/oblivious, kind of an airhead guys so if you don't like that then don't read it, she's shy and timid!

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯; Yandere!Jugram kidnaps the reader with the help of the Bambies. The reader becomes pregnant with Jugram's child but wants to abort due to the circumstances and tries to keep it a secret. Jugram finds out, becomes furious, and insists on a coerced marriage. The reader escapes to the human world, but Jugram tracks her down, discovers her plan to abort the child, and forcibly takes her back - @sahara-solaris-solace

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 - m.list | bleach m.list

That day stands clear in my memory.

It's all many years past, but today, it comes home to me most sweetly, for I was at work in my flower shop, putting half-finished bouquets in their vases, when disaster struck our quiet, small town, which now contained but a few of the last holdout Quincies. The peace was shattered, people taken. but it was nobody but me. It was just my bad luck that it happened to be me that was kidnapped at that time.

This will forever be in my mind. Five women-strong, unstoppable-entered my store. Their faces were grim, the intentions obvious to the point of glaring. They took me against my will, the hold not letting up.

I cried out for help, yet not a soul replied to my call. The fear that gushed within me as I yelled for help—none of the villagers came to my rescue. It felt like the world had frozen me.

The first to catch my eyes were the uniforms the five ladies wore. They all had immaculate white trench coats, trimmed with gold. What I saw in those clothes brought out haunting familiarity in my mind. It was the same attire worn by a man who appeared in my shop not so long before this occurred.

Tall, curling lines of blonde hair loosely down over his shoulders. He looked every bit the part of strong authority. He was also in a white trench coat, dark green fur from his left collar going down the front, a dark green belt, and a golden belt buckle.

I couldn't help thinking that he must be of the same group as those women, not otherwise than having inherited the membership from them. But if so, why didn't he just take me himself where and when he would have had a chance? Why send these women after me?

-

I turned back to the gentle tinkle of a bell heralding a would-be customer. My eyes met a man's—tall, pretty, handsome.

He did have chiseled features—eyes of mixed blue-green, almost catching the eye, like gazing at the still sea on a sunny day. With that odd kind of fashion look, I could not take my eyes off him.

I greeted him warmly, with a small smile and a clutch close to my chest where a bouquet was held, almost too carefully arranged.

HIS eyes roved over the scarlet anemones. He began quietly, watchfully look at the bouquet I am holding. But under the surface of that quiet front, just below the call, appeared to me a thin kind of leavening of uncertainty, a flicker of something I could not at once define.

And that was just when I thought I caught a flicker of what had been vulnerability in his eyes, and my heart went out to the man. Surprising was the fact that already I was forming a sense of pity for this stranger who was so obviously mysterious to me.

"Mister, if you would not think me prying," my voice was both soft and genuinely concerned, automatically tilting my head, "but you look lost. Any way I could help?"

The words had fallen gently, laced with true warmth.

He just remained silent, continuing to look at me sharply, as if in search of something.

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, a wave of unease passing through me at his intentness. Curiosity, suspicion, or something else of the sort—that powered this stare, I didn't know.

I mustered up every droplet of courage and made a suggestion. "If you fall ill," I slowly spoke in a very soft and almost hushed but extremely sincere tone, "my way of herbal and natural remedies and medicine stuff—it may be that I often make stuff that could ease your discomfort."

Then, it was as though my words fell into some uncertain silence as his eyes held mine, an inscrutable look still in the gaze. Nervously, I pressed my mouth closed; the only sound was my held breath, waiting for him to speak.

"What I guess I'd like is some herbal tea," he said, and for just a second, I was taken aback by his request.

"Oh, sure," I said, just slightly dazed. "Sorry, it's just that it's kind of rare when someone asks quite this directly."

I began to unfasten his cape. I focused on what was underneath—the white trenchcoat, equally well-mended, and equally clean, featuring the dark green fur, and the glinting gold belt-buckle which had been the first thing that had attracted my attention.

His uniform was so familiar, but still, I could not place it.

He slightly nodded in response, no expression on his face, but his eyes were dark, which all of a sudden gave me the chills. "The one who says himself that he sure is an exceptional chap at herbs and natural healing technique.", he asked back, his voice now low and measured.

I caught myself swallowing and nodding firmly, taking a brief moment to work very hard at keeping my cool. "Yes, that's right," I replied. "And what ails you? The more specific you can be with your details, the better I shall be able to mix up something that will serve you well."

"Clouded mind," he replied.

"I see," I nodded, with a half-smile reassuringly, though feeling quite ill at ease right now with a gnawing sensation in my stomach. "Please, sit there at that table and chair—and I will mix something up that will help you think more clearly."

I felt his eyes still burning on my back as I turned away and headed towards the store's back room, watching every move I made with an intensity bordering on creepy.

I closed the door to the back room behind me. I slid back against the door and let out a soft sigh that freed my tension from my body, before I then had sunk to the floor in one movement. Still, I held the bouquet against my chest.

That stare of his had been so intimidating—one might even have gone so far as to say a tad creepy—that it had left behind an impression. Shivers went down my spine just from that thought.

I shook my head to rid it of the remains of his overpowering aura and squared myself in preparation for the task at hand. He needed help and it was my duty to provide him with precisely that. I walked toward the shelves that carried the plethora of dried flowers and herbs, each of them selected for explicit healing properties.

Lavender, peppermint, sage, rosemary, holy basil, gotu kola—the only purpose they had now was to come together under my hands. Their smells fanned the room, where I worked in silence. Each herb had its own peculiarity, and in a mighty combination of nature's cure.

Turning my steady hand, herbs got ground into fine powder, and the required amount was put into the pot, which held a little hot water. I could see them swirling in this steaming liquid. It had already settled from boiling in the blink of an eye, and bright colors of the herbs were now laid asleep on the bottom of the pot.

The tea made, I poured it carefully into the fragile porcelain cup, whose brim I raised hot to the touch. And looking into the saucer, with a new cup of brewed tea, I sipped cautiously to check the temperature. It was just right for the man whose return I was getting ready for.

I balanced the tea cup, full of herbal tea on the saucer, into the front region of the shop. Wordlessly, his body relaxed into the chair, although his face was shut down, and I felt a sort of fluttery little tickle in my chest.

I set the cup down in front of him with a gentle clink, giving a small smile that I hoped would seem kind. "Here you go," I offered softly, almost whispering. "I hope this helps."

He nodded a bit, finally looking up to meet my eyes, his features softened. "Thanks," he rumbled in a low.

I sat down beside him and watched, riveted, as he tipped the cup to his lips, the rising steam soft and curly around his face. He himself was expressionless following a small sip, the face focused with narrowed eyes in his effort to sort out all the flavors.

I waited, my heart practically thudding outside my ribcage as he neared the end. Agonizingly silent seconds ticked past, each dragging into eternity as I waited to see if there was any sign of approval or disdain.

Finally, he set the cup back onto its saucer, and his fingers made only light contact with the porcelain when he handed me a warning look. "This is good," he announced, "Thank you."

I felt completely relaxed at that moment for the first time since his arrival. "You're welcome," I replied.

Just as the bell rang, I frowned because of the disturbance at the door. The air had changed slightly, a sure sign that another had entered.

"Sorry," I whispered and lamely smiled before getting up from sitting down— a futile attempt to swallow the discomfort that lived inside me. Though he had nodded in understanding, I still felt the heaviness of his eyes pinned on me.

I had made it behind the counter, trying to distance myself from this newcomer. "{Y/n}!" a voice called out, too familiar, as I found myself forcefully pushing down the rising annoyance.

"Hello," I said, my voice strained as I tried to pretend that everything he did didn't bother me in the least.

Ayame flirted shamelessly, leaning much too casually against the counter, his eyes all aglow with this dreamy look. He was yet another of my regular customers—well, apart from the fact that he didn't come in for flowers half the time.

"I haven't seen you in so long," he replied, his voice smeared with lust, I feel neausious.

"You saw me yesterday," I said, pushing the words at him a little hard because I knew he was going to insist on another round of his insufferable advances, and I was running short on patience.

"Did I really?" he mused, words trailing off into thought with the severity of a self-absorbed hum - grating on my nerves.

"Yes, you did," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper, instinctively stepping back as my eyes were careful to not be too close.

I gasped sharply and was surprised when his hand closed around mine, his grip firm and surprisingly pulling me close to him. My pounding heart raced wild in my chest, but the sudden contact left me speechless.

I nibbled at my bottom lip, torn between pushing him away and not really knowing how to react. Ayame had never been this touchy-feely with me before.

Coming toward us, came the blond one, whose name I forgot, his huge shadow shading the scene.

Ayame's grip on my hand faltered. He let go of me with a sudden bashful apology and laughter that erupted from his face. In exactly the same manner he quickly retreated from that place, rubbing the back of his head nervously, atrocity from his part since he was intimidated by the blonde guy.

I felt relief. He gave me a look that pierced me, unreadable, leaving him in an intimidating air. It was as if he saw through me..

As Ayame ducked out the door, I swallowed a lump in my throat, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited, just waited, for whatever would come next.

"Thank you," I muttered in conclusion.

He whirled away to leave, his figure swallowed up by the sweep of his cloak, and a pang shot through me—a regret that I would never know his name.

"Tea was good, it helped a lot," he said.

"You're welcome," I called after him, even though I couldn't shake the feeling my words were lost in the rush of the wind when the door swung shut behind him.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc.Relogs and like are appreciated.

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[once-in-a-blood-moon]

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

Solomon x GN! reader

Summary: When Solomon comes down with an illness on his birthday, you are determined to make his day a special one.

AN: It's Solomon day!! Thank you to the anon that gave me some ideas for what to do for Solomon's birthday. This is inspired by one of those prompts! :) I hope everyone enjoys and everyone wish Solomon the sweetest birthday of all time 💜

Warnings: light mentions of sickness (fever and coughing)

“I’m sorry you have to look after me tonight,” Solomon starts, his voice muffled as he tries to talk around the thermometer in his mouth.

You had originally come over to Purgatory Hall to take Solomon out for his birthday. Though the moment you stepped foot into his room, you had instantly noticed his flushed face, the sickly yellowed circles under his eyes, and his slowed movements as he attempted to shrug his oversized starry coat on. You knew something was wrong despite his lukewarm reassurances. And his gravelly excuses of being “fine” and “just tired” wore off once he was thrown into a coughing fit.

Now he was in cozy pajamas and laying in bed, per your insistence, as you both wait for the results of the thermometer. He wants to continue his apology, but before he can say more, you quickly shush him.

“Don’t talk or else the thermometer won’t read correctly. And also don’t apologize.” The device beeps and you gently take it out of his mouth to check it. “I’m happy to spend time with you even if it that means taking care of you.” Reading the number you purse your lips. It’s what you expected, but there’s still a pang of concern seeing just how high his temperature is. Solomon doesn’t need you spell it out for him either. He can tell just from the wrinkling of your face that his temperature must be bad. Still, he finds himself nodding along to your previous sentiment.

“I feel similarly about spending time with you. I just wish it wasn’t when I’m not at my best,” he glances down solemnly at the bedsheets tucked snuggly around him, “or on my birthday, of all days... I know you were looking forward to treating me this evening.”

You step towards the nightstand to wipe the thermometer with a tissue, giving him a sideways glance as you do. “Do you have any idea what caused it? It’s not like you to get sick.”

“I spilled the contents of a partially finished potion on myself yesterday. I thought I cleaned myself up well enough, but I must be having a reaction to it.”

“Ah...well, we can always go out another day to celebrate.” After you dispose of the dirty tissue and set the thermometer down, you reach out to caress his cheek, trying to comfort him. It’s obvious he’s feeling a little bad about himself. “Just because you’re sick doesn’t mean we can’t make the day special in other ways.”

Solomon leans into your touch, even cupping his hand over yours to make the feeling linger. A smile softly curls on his lips as he hums in thought of all the pleasant things you could have planned for him. “And how does my adorable apprentice plan to spoil me today?”

Your thumb rubs little circles into the apples of his cheeks, feeling the heat of his fever on his skin. “The usual sick day activities: movie marathon, drinking hot beverages, and, of course, lots of cuddling.”

Everything Solomon wanted, no, needed, and more. His gaze flickers over your features, just appreciating you and silently hoping you know how much a simple day in with you means to him. Once he realizes he’s been staring, he clears his throat awkwardly. “Yes. That all sounds wonderful. Especially the cuddling...” he wiggles his eyebrows which causes you to laugh at his silliness.

“But that’s not all!” You retract your hand from his face and take a few steps back away from his bed. “I need you to close your eyes please.”

You seem to have something up your sleeve, and Solomon all but obliges just so to see what you’re plotting. His eyes flutter closed and begins listening intently to try and guess what you might be up to. The room is quiet except for your soft voice that whispers incantations that he can’t quite make out. His head is so stopped up from the sickness that it’s distracts him. But he doesn’t miss the heaviness in the air from your magic.

After a few more moments, you finally break the agonizing silence. “Okay. Open them.”

He doesn’t delay his curiosities any longer and cracks his eyes back open, blinking a few times to readjust to the light. During his rapid blinking, he thinks he sees balloons until the room comes into full view and he finds that his mind isn’t just playing tricks on him. Dotting around his room are different colored balloons with what looks to be sparkly, starry string that hangs where he could reach them. Though when he gives a harder look, he notices there’s no strings attached at all and the trail of stars and sparkles he originally thought was string is part of the spell to keep them floating. There’s also a large banner suspended in the air by the same means near the furthest wall that reads “happy birthday!”

Solomon sits in his bed stunned as he takes in all the spell work you did just to make a fun and memorable atmosphere for him. He slowly glances to you standing off to the side, your hands behind your back with a giddy smile. You are too adorable for your own good.

“You did all this for me?” he asks astounded.

“Of course I did. And I have one more thing…” You advance to the side of his bed before revealing a bowl of hot soup you’d been hiding behind your back. You present it to him and whisper with a playful lilt. “Look.”

Solomon gives you an inquisitive look, not quite understanding, but going along with this anyway. Inside the soup are some lettered noodles that don’t seem to be in any particular order...until the letters begin to shift and move around in the piping hot broth. The phrase is very obvious from the get-go, but he continues to wait patiently for your magic to move the letters around to finally spell out the words “I love you.” It’s a silly way to say it, but it’s one of the sweetest things that he’s ever experienced. Your effort shows how much care and thought you put into making this day a happy one despite the circumstances. You’re giving him a birthday he won’t soon forget.

Solomon lifts his head to meet your eyes, not hesitating to relay the same. “I love you too. This is an amazing gift,” he takes another quick glance around the room to admire all the decorations before adding, “and I’m very proud of your show of magic. You never cease to amaze me.”

“I’m glad you like your surprise. As I said, I wanted today to be special to you in spite of your illness.” As you speak, he notes the fluster you struggle to hide. He lets out a soft huff of laughter, reveling in the fact that he made you feel that way just from some simple praise.

“It was already special – because you’re here with me.” He reaches out to take the bowl of soup, placing it carefully in his lap with one hand securing it while his other captures yours. “Thank you for always being the gift that keeps on giving.”

[suckerforlovesblog]

Pretty little thing

Pretty little thing Masterlist

Series summary: All Mr. Shelby wanted was to remarry. He had to find himself another wife after the death of Grace, not just to take care of his son Charlie but also to grant him access to the finer society of Birmingham. All he wanted the girl to be was a pretty little thing on his arm who simply submitted, obeyed and followed his orders.

And he did find the perfect girl - young, very good looking, of a good upbringing, smart but little did he expect her to have such a strong mind of her own…

All he wanted to do was break her in, like a horse had to be, and his new wife put up a good fight but eventually he is sure, he will break her and make her his completely.

Series warning: Dark!Tommy, toxic relationship, abuse, rape, non consensual intercourse, rough sex, age gap, Sir kink, choking - all the things that come with rough smut

Chapter 1: The perfect girl

Summary: Thomas Shelby is out searching for a wife. Most young women in Birmingham throw themselves at him but he doesn’t like that and goes out further to search for the perfect girl to be on his arm whilst hanging on his lips.

Chapter Warning: age gap, swearing, mentions of sex

Word count: 1.5k

~ tag list: @ncoleys , @amberpanda99 , @priyajoyy @tommyshelbywhore @swordofawriter @goth-cowgirl-03 @thenattitude @sheun-555 @meetmeatyourworst @bruher @frazie99 @blvebanisters @jessimay89 ~

I‘m very intrigued to hear your thoughts!

Also: please let me know what you would like to read! My requests are OPEN!

End of 1925:

Thomas Shelby was still grieving the death of his beloved wife Grace, even after an entire year, and everyone around him knew. He did blame himself for her death because he gave her the bewitched jewel to wear and even put it onto her himself. And she wore it that night, like a target painted on her forehead. But business had to keep going and Charlie desperately needed a mother figure in his life. Frances, the maid, was doing her best and Ada and Polly came to help out from time the time but it just wasn’t the same. He had even hired a governess, a very pretty thing, blonde and petite and at least fifteen years younger then him, to attend to his son’s needs because he couldn’t always be there for him. Thomas who was now nearing forty, also really enjoyed the governess presence, at least when he bend her over a table, fucked her from behind and she didn’t talk. Other than that he avoided her most of the time and let her do her work.

She fulfilled his needs but it didn’t help him with business.

So, Thomas Shelby called a family meeting at Arrow House and now everyone was sitting in front of him in the drawing room: Arthur and Linda, John and Esme, Polly and Michael, Ada, Finn, Charlie, Curly, Jeremia and his son, and Lizzie, of course. Sometimes he still slept with her but she would never be good enough to be his wife. He did like her but Lizzie’s social standing was beneath his new position as a business man.

“Thank you everyone for coming, eh!”, Tommy’s voice boomed: “I have an important announcement to make and I think I need everyone’s help.” All the people in the small room looked at him. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath and then said: “I decided that it’s time for me to remarry. It will be good for business.” Lizzie looked at him with wide sad eyes, knowing he would never share the feelings she had for him. Arthur stood up, smiling and went up to give Thomas a small hug, “Proud of you, Tom. Linda will help for sure.” Everyone else looked reassuring and Curly started babbling something no one was able to make out. “May I ask what kind of business you think of concluding?”, Polly said. “Yes but I will not tell just yet ‘eh.”, Tommy says, wetting his lip, “I just think a wife will open up new branches for us and make the company more respectable.” He then puts a cigarette between his lips, after fishing it out of the gold case from the pocket of his coat: “Anyways today is a day to celebrate and I invite you all to dinner. Now, Michael, John and Arthur stay, everyone else I see at dinner.” Thomas lights his cigarette whilst everyone leaves the room except for his brothers and Michael. He sits back down and explains the guys what he’s looking for in his future wife, mostly talking to Michael because the girl should be around his age, a very desirable age in his opinion. The four men make a plan to start the search for his wife tomorrow, starting with all the respectable families in Birmingham and then toast to their success with Irish whiskey, of course.

Early spring of 1926:

Thomas and Michael looked at all the young women in Birmingham, from a respectable upbringing at least. John joked that the two of them fucked their way through Birmingham and that was true to some extent. None of the girls satisfied Thomas’ needs however and Michael was growing tired. “If you keep going like that Tom, we will never find a girl for you. One is not tall enough, the next one doesn’t have enough tits, another one is too stupid, then she is pretty but not gorgeous. This is exhausting.”, Michael says looking at him from the drivers seat of the new Bentley Thomas got. The car was extremely luxurious and expensive.

“Well Michael, we gotta find the perfect girl for me, eh.”, he answered, taking a puff of his cigarette, “She needs to be smart and eloquent for me to be able to bring her around business partners. But she ought to be gorgeous as well because then negotiations will be even easier because men are dumbstruck if they’re accompanied by beautiful women.” Michael also lights a cigarette: “I get that Tom but if we keep going at that speed my dick won’t work anymore with the girl I may marry in the future because I emptied everything I have into some girls” They both laughed and kept driving to meet Alfie Solomons in Camden Town for business.

After driving past the first couple of buildings, he barks at Michael to stop the car and Thomas basically jumps out. He brushes his coat down, fishes a cigarette out of its case and puts it into it mouth leaving Michael more than puzzled. Thomas started walking towards a building, lighting the cigarette with a match and then enters a shop, a tailoring shop it appears. Michael still sits in the car, smoking a cigarette as well and waiting for him to come back.

Thomas looks around the shop, searching for the woman he just saw. He only saw her side profile but Tommy knew she was the one, now on his way to make her his, willing to do whatever it might take and hoping she wasn’t already married. Fuck, even if she was, he were to make her his for sure.

He was so occupied with his thoughts that he didn’t even hear the little bell ring as he entered through the door and then the people inside the shop turning to him. The pretty woman he searched for was sitting behind a desk to his right and he made his way towards her but was stopped abruptly in his step by the owner of the shop. “Sir”, the small man called out, “how may I help you?” “Aye, I need a new suit please and may I have a word with the young lady at the desk?”, Thomas answers. “For sure”, the man says in a low purr, scarred of the dominance in his voice, “we will leave you to it, Sir.” Tommy nods and the man leaves the shop through the back door, pulling a women behind him.

Thomas approaches the woman. She was already looking at him through her Y/E/C eyes, smiling lightly. “Hello miss, my name is Thomas Shelby, owner of the Shelby Company Limited. I saw you out in the street and you caught my eye”, he said and smiled an earnest smile. “My name is Y/N, my farther is the owner of the shop.”, the girl answered. He looked at her thoroughly and she got even more prettier the longer he looked at her. Although Thomas didn’t feel any affection towards her but she was very pretty for sure and he knew that she would be the perfect wife: young, a pretty face and fine features, nice hair, a slim figure. Her voice was very calm and had a pretty sound to it. He knew she would be the perfect little thing on his arm. He looks at her with his icy blue eyes, “Tell me sweetheart, how old are you?” “I just turned 18, Sir”, she said. The obedience and innocence in her voice made him hard, without help anyways, for the first time since Grace died. His heart ached for his lost love but he needed this to work and pushed the face of his dead wife out of his thoughts. “You’re not married, eh?”, he asked the girl more nearly twenty years younger then him. She shook his head, seemingly submitting him to, scarred of his booming figure. He really liked that and smiled: “Please get your farther to me, I need to speak with him. In private. And take the measurements for the suit I ordered, will you sweetheart?” She got up, nodding and getting her farther at first, afterwards measuring him and writing all the details down for his order. She was sent out shortly after, leaving her farther with the unknown man with the pretty blue eyes.

“Tell me Sir, is everything to your liking so far”, the old man asked Thomas. “Yes, indeed”, he answered with his thick Birmingham accent, “I would like to marry your daughter. I know this sounds rushed but she immediately caught my eye and I can provide for her very well.” The older man, the girls farther, looked at him reserved and averse. Thomas looked at him with his blue piercing eyes, radiating pride and dominance and the older man submitted. “Listen, eh, I give you a great deal for her and promise to provide and care for the girl.”, Thomas says, putting another cigarette between his lips, letting it dangle for a little while before lightning it with a match.

He pursued the conversation for a little while longer, settling everything important, like the wedding date and the money the family will receive. After it was all settled Thomas went outside of the shop, calling Michael to set up and then seal the document.

The girl came back into the shop, Thomas walked over to her and put his hand on her waist. She looked up at him confused but he just smiled at Michael: “Meet my darling fiancé, Y/N. We will be married in two weeks time and she will be Mrs. Shelby.”