#jack nelson imagine

[zablife]

A Visit From Jack

Jack Nelson x OC (Eva Nelson)

A/N: Visits from the dead requested by @evita-shelby. OC belongs to her. Part of my Corrupt a Wish challenge.

Warnings: drinking, supernatural phenomenon, divergence from canon Corrupt a wish reminder: If you think this story has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention. Proceed with caution!

“Here we are again," Jack remarked, wandering about the drawing room of Arrow House to inspect the gaudy paintings and overstuffed furniture with obvious displeasure.

Eva turned away from the bar slowly, jaw clenched despite the dark look of exhaustion in her eyes. “I didn’t ask you to come,” she reminded him as she took a sip of her drink.

Clicking his tongue in rebuke, Jack shook his head at her. “You should never have started drinking again, Evie. Losin’ your looks.” The insult fell flat as she observed the melancholy in his voice, evidence of the pain he still carried.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you,” she stated, fingers unconsciously ghosting over the heart locket he’d gifted her years ago.

A mirthless chuckle echoed over her shoulder, his only attempt at denial. “Don't remember, doll?"

"You won't let me forget," she bit back, swallowing harshly.

"Ten years," he reminisced, gliding his index finger along her spine.

Eva shivered, feeling the chill rush throughout her body. "And I was loyal to you every day," she recounted, cutting her eyes at him sharply.

"All but one," Jack corrected. "The day Michael shot..."

"Do we have to relive it every time you visit?" Eva interrupted impatiently, refilling her glass. "Please, I’m tired of this, Jack."

She wavered momentarily, feeling the force of his heartbeat rocking her where she stood, a potent reminder of the connection they'd once shared. As she attempted to raise the bottle of tequila, an icy hand stopped her.

"Thought I told you to stop,” Jack warned in a low growl. "You're killing yourself," he whispered more tenderly into her ear.

With a toss of her shoulder Eva attempted to banish his touch. "You don't know a damn thing!"

"I know this is no way to go," he countered.

Eva released the bottle and suddenly felt the hand around her relinquish it's hold. Searching the room for her beloved, she whispered, "I’m sorry for what happened...I hoped he'd be more cautious with his lies and his truths."

"Truth from the devil of Small Heath?" Jack retorted.

"You'll always blame me, but he'd already laid his curses," she tried to justify. "He knew..."

"Knew what?" Jack asked, though he was certain of the answer.

"That no one was listening," she gulped.

"A godless man who took matters into his own hands. You should've known he would let his cousin kill me before doing business with me," Jack nodded in understanding but not acceptance, the vision of him fading from sight as he'd done on so many occasions before.

"No, don't go!" Eva shouted into the empty room, slumping against the wall for support. It was the same every year on their anniversary, to be visited by the ghost of her husband. The torture of it, driving her to ruin. And though Tommy Shelby had offered her solace in his exquisite mansion and his waiting arms, she would never forgive herself for Jack's murder.

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

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@theshelbyclan

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@brummiereader

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@mysatnin

[evita-shelby]

National Anthem

Chapter 4

Cw: mentions of pregnancy and childbirth. Mentions of death from childbirth and infant death

Slight Boardwalk Empire crossover

Taglist: @zablife @call-sign-shark @thegreatdragonfruta

Love is not as easy for her as one would think.

The witch likes taking things slowly, so slowly her lovers lose interest and leave.

Or have entire secret relationships with the cousin who you live with in Mexico City and most people assumed you’d marry because consanguinity isn’t still in the past especially in aristocratic families like theirs.

Jack is an attentive husband and keeps her in luxury and lets her revel in the part of her that craves blood and violence from time to time.

Eva is very fond of him and cares a great deal for him and likes the person he is in private, but she just isn’t sure if that is love or love love.

English only has one word for love. Spanish has two, querer and amar. One is stronger than the other and she can confidently say she likes him a lot(querer), the witch cannot have that same feeling to say love as in amar.

The answer to her conundrum comes as they ready the house for their first dinner with the neighbors.

There is a sweet and even tender side to him no one save Gina gets to see here. Here where they live rather richly and yet so simply that she couldn’t have it any other way.

Here where they pretend they are just another suburban couple expecting their first children in an idyllic neighborhood.

Here where they are hosting the couple next door and their son after Jack sprayed him with the gardening hose for looking at Eva’s ass ---or so he said.

Dinner had gone well.

Eva had hit it off with Helen, spoken some of her past and lied when little Bobby asked if had ever killed anyone in Mexico.

Now as they cleaned up ---despite his protests saying Alice, the maid, was hired for this--- the answer to her conundrum comes as he regales her with a childhood anecdote.

She would be lying if she wasn’t enjoying every second of this life in peace. Every second of being with him.

“I love you.” Eva says as the words come unbidden.

Had she taken longer, the twins would’ve been born.

“You’re only saying it to shut me up, darling.” He replies with that confident smile she’s come to adore.

“No, I’m saying it because I mean it.” Eva playfully flicked some soap suds toward him making him laugh.

“Took you long enough, I am fucking charm itself.”

“You don’t have to kill him, Jack.” She says after his new lackey has the audacity to flirt with her while visiting his office in Wall Street.

Really several months pregnant and Owen Sleater keeps thinking about fucking her. Eva would be flattered if it hadn’t come to annoy her.

It had started out as something Eva paid no mind to until the man started be too helpful to her. Then he started touching her, innocently at first and then lingering to the point it would be called a caress.

Jack had noticed it with displeasure, thinking about imaginative ways to rid himself of the man especially after Eva told him about Sleater’s unwanted advances.

“What do you suggest, Evie? Ringing up the Ulster volunteers I keep an eye on and leave the fucker tied with a bow for them?” he is annoyed at having to show mercy to a man who’s blood he wants to bathe in.

“Jersey, to your fellow Irishmen in Atlantic City. The republican you outbid for me.” Eva keeps it vague to make him ask why such a specific person.

Nucky Thompson had a purpose and when that was fulfilled Jack would take his crumbling empire and build up his. Nucky looked like he was on the way to greatness, like he had found a wife and a family he yearned for and as if karma didn’t have him on her list.

Owen Sleater would ruin his marriage by doing what he tried to do with her. Only Margaret Shroeder would be vulnerable enough to be swayed by his charms.

No matter, Enoch Thompson deserved it. That and so much more.

“Tell me why, and I’ll see if I can arrange it.” Jack sat back on his chair as she grew comfortable on his lap.

“He’s gonna fuck his wife.”

And sure enough, Owen Sleater is handed back to John McGarrigle after the Nelsons arrange a little accident on his new bodyguard.

It’s the twenty-ninth of May when Joseph Patrick and John Fitzgerald are born.

The morning had been perfect, and had she not been who she was, she would have used the twin bed in the nursery that had been prepared beforehand to bring these two little angels into the world.

If her new friends and neighbors had known she never planned on making use of it, they would have found it as strange as her and Jack eschewing the use of separate twin beds as all modern couples do.

Eva has a fear of giving birth at home.

Her sister, Felicidad, had died because they lived to far away from town and the doctor could not come quickly when complications arose. The baby had died less than a month after as if sharing her dead mother’s name had cursed her to join her in death

And while Eva had served as a midwife in her time as a nurse, she preferred being where an obstetrician and a surgeon would be a door away and not several miles away. Just as a safety precaution.

Thankfully, there were no complications and by noon their twin boys were sleeping in a bassinet by her bed.

“I would’ve killed them all if they’d stop me from being there with you.” He admits smiling softly at his namesake.

Just a week ago he had killed a man for calling him a potato digging bastard and yet here he was holding the smaller of the twins with such love and gentleness you’d never know his hands were drenched in blood.

“I know.” In her moment of need, Jack had barreled into the hospital room and dared them to pry him off her side.

He had encouraged her, yelled at her when she felt like giving up and promised to never touch her again when she complained about their boys having heads as big as his.

By the time they’d been returned to the maternity ward both witch and gangster had completely forgotten the awfulness of the birth.

“Your eyes rolled to the back of your head during that last bit, doll. Mind telling me what it was about?” He doesn’t beat around the bush; he’s been married to her long enough to know when she has a vision.

Once she fainted dead away in his arms, and one other time she drove his old model-t into a ditch.

“What do you think about doing this seven more times?” the witch asked hoping he’d say that was too many.

“Who are we to argue with the big man upstairs?” he answered with a proud smirk.

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Arthurs Sacrifice

[brummiereader]

@novashelby thank you so much for this, Nova! I absolutely loved it 😍.

Jack Nelson...this man's a living icicle. He's so cold towards every one and every circumstance. And yet in this small drabble I did see a small bit of regret from him, even if he couldn't quite see it himself.

How could someone do something over such a small due? It was years ago. She’d been ten. “Do you remember me?” she asked. I feel like this might be where that sliver of guilt came from. She was only ten when she saw her father killed without mercy. And I feel like this is even more reinforced with his parting words towards her..."Happy isn’t what I would call it, kid,” he sighed, nodding to her before putting his hat on and walking out into the Boston winter. Which by the way was just perfection 👌🏼. The image this finishing passage conjured up in mind was like something out of an old Hollywood movie ❤️.

Thank you so much for writing this, Nova! I'd loved to see it turned into a one shot too 😍.

"Dead Man"-Jack Nelson & Reader

Pairing(non-romantically): Jack Nelson & Reader Prompt inspiration Word Count: 316 Warning: Mention of murder, revenge Summary: She saw him kill her father and she swore that one day he'd meet the same fate Thank you @brummiereader I hope you like this :) I actually am inspired to expand this into a one shot where I can get the details and emotions correct.

“Jack Nelson,” a soft, but defiant voice came from behind him. He’d been in the Catholic church just downtown of Boston. She knew that’s where the American-Irishman conducted some less than kosher business. And after that day, she would have, too. The cool gun felt heavy in her hands, she thought as she tucked both away under her sleeve. 

Jack was fixing his suit as he turned and looked at the unfamiliar girl just across the way. No more, no less than eighteen. At first, she looked like nothing more than a random girl from Boston, but it hit him…the warehouse in Fall River just off the bridge. She’d been there, peeking over the heavy doors as her father sat tied in a chair.

The image of his face as he landed the final blow to her father never left her. How could someone do something over such a small due? It was years ago. She’d been ten. “Do you remember me?” she asked. 

He raised his brow, walking towards her. For the first time, he felt as though he had nothing to say. Perhaps it was guilt. Guilt? Remorse? Jack really couldn’t remember the last time he felt either, and therefore, it may have been nothing…he felt nothing. His eyes skimmed over her before studying her face that tried so hard to be brave. He offered a smile, and touched her shoulder, “if you've come here for revenge, you should go home…. You’re too young for any of this. Come back in five years and I’ll let you kill me then.”

When he walked by, she said, “you should have killed me then and therefore neither of us would have to bear this burden. It would have made you happy-”

“Happy isn’t what I would call it, kid,” he sighed, nodding to her before putting his hat on and walking out into the Boston winter.

[call-sign-shark]

The Gentle Art of Terror

summary: Jack and Eva Nelson have an unpleasant encounter during a posh party. Her name? Tina Cacciatore, Luca Changretta's right hand. || Based on the "ask about your OC and mine to receive a one-shot + small moodboard". Also exploring Eva being scared is super cool. (@evita-shelby)

Words: 1.5k

“What are we doing here?” Eva asked, her sly and perfectly manicured hands tightly wrapped around the American’s muscular arm as they navigated in the dim light of the damp wine cellar. Warm but feeble lamps were hanging from the concrete ceiling, softly swinging from left and right at each gust of wind, casting their yellowish hue on the walls. The sumptuous witch’s voice was underlined with a palpable annoyance for she didn’t understand why they should waste their time in this shit hole while one of the most expensive parties ever held in Boston was taking place two stories above them. Jack Nelson‘s only reply was a little “shhh” before he walled himself in silence again, his green eyes surveyed his hostile surroundings with great attention. Even though the letter stipulated that their encounter would be peaceful, only aimed at discussing the terms of territory limits, Jack didn’t trust the man for his life of his. While merciless as an enraged bull and sly as a fox, he knew far too well that Luca Changretta, the most efficient soldier of the Spinetta’s family and the one rapidly climbing the Mafia’s highest ranks, wouldn’t shy away at the idea of slicing his throat at the slightest moment of inattention and Jack couldn’t have that. Even less when his mesmerizing wife, as powerful as him but embodying his only weakness, was with him at this moment.

“Jack.” She called him, her tone firmer as to remind him she wasn’t some kind of docile trophy wife but a Queen who could have almost everyone eating from her cursed hand. The sole power of her voice made him oblige — Nelson pinched his scarred lips in a thin line before replying.

“Remember when I told you Changretta wanted to talk? Well, here we are,” His gaze, usually hard and unyielding, softened at the sight of his wife’s expression, which was a combination of surprise and discontent, “I told you to stay at the party.” 

“And I told you I’m not some meek girl. If you are in trouble so I am, and I won't hesitate to make the fucker atone for the sin of thinking about harming you.” She stated, unbreakable and with the fury of a harpy. To this, Jack couldn’t help but grin: if the situation wasn’t so dangerous he would probably have fucked her right here, right now. With every day passing by, Eva’s reactions comforted him in the decision of belonging to her and only her. 

“Let’s stay careful. I don’t know where Changretta is… Might be as well looming in the dark and waiting to attack—“

“Oh. He’s here.”  She cut him off, one brow raised, her face composed but her gift of Clairvoyance unpleasantly rattling against her bones at the unpleasant sight. In a profound, almost animal instinct, She dug her nails into Jack’s thick sleeve as she felt her husband’s entire body tense when his eyes met with what she saw.

Luca Changretta stood against the wall like he belonged there, a tall and slender figure made of shadows. The swinging lamps of the ceiling threw their warm light at his face, bringing out his sharp traits, accentuating the hard line of his jaw, the predatory gleam in his eye, and the charisma he effortlessly exuded. With an air of casual indifference, the Capo was leaning back, his arms loosely crossed — Surprisingly, his posture was rather relaxed, while still bearing something threatening, like a panther that could spring to action in a blink the moment it smelt blood. A toothpick rolled lazily between his teeth as he carefully watched a third man across him, a man tied to a chair, his form broken and pathetic for he had been reduced to little more than a shell of fear and trembling flesh. 

Eva froze, an imaginary alarm ringing relentlessly in her brain as her genius mind quickly put two and two together —no blood on his face or on his ridiculously pricey tailored suit, a rather long distance from the victim: There was someone else. And that someone was responsible for this twisted scene, probably under Luca’s commands, but if so where was that monster?  Jack should have had the same thought for he quickly checked his surroundings to make sure no one had trapped them but, hopefully, there was no one. However, the echoing footsteps of the powerful couple had drawn the mafioso’s attention for a fleeting second. His piercing green gaze, shining in the dim light, flicked to them and paused just long enough to make sure they understood that he saw them—really saw them. Then, a grin slowly spread across his face in a chilling, knowing smile that curled his lips and reached his eyes in a way that was anything but friendly.

“Good evening, Mr.Nelson. I didn’t expect you to come to our little meeting in such a good company.” He finally said, his smooth voice slightly resounding in the cellar as he nodded at Eva’s direction to acknowledge her presence. Enemy but still a gentleman. As unexpected as it was, Luca wasn’t particularly surprised considering how skillfully manipulative and equally dangerous the new Mrs.Nelson was. Another shiver ran down the Mexican beauty, who couldn’t help but shift their focus from Luca to the tied-up victim, sobbing in muffled and exhausted squeals through the cloth that gagged him. She felt it — this presence, this fourth person hidden somewhere with a stare so burning she almost nervously scratched herself to get rid of the sensation. 

“Luca Changretta.” Jack simply said, spitting the name with so much disgust and disdain it seemed he had just taken a bite of a rotten apple, “I didn’t know you would put on a show in a pathetic attempt to scare me.” Jack stated with a raised brow — if his enemy had the slightest idea about who he was, he would surely know that cruelty didn’t impress Jack Nelson for he himself used to inflect it for business purpose. Ironically, what he loved the most was the Italian way.

“If you think all of this is to impress you let me tell you that you’re wrong,” The mafioso waved off the cutting remark with a elegant movement of the hand, “This unfortunate soul betrayed me so I had to make an example out of him. Nothing to do with you.”

That was how the men started to talk and while Eva was aware of it, the rest of their conversation blurred into unintelligible background when she noticed the tied-up man’s sudden agitation. The latter jolted and his breath hitched, muffled behind the ragged and saliva-coated cloth gag stuffed in his mouth. The air suddenly became heavy with a primal, animal fear that suffocated Eva. As her clairvoyant senses urged her to flee, her dark eyes still followed the panicking victim’s gaze until they fell on the slim and rather short frame of a woman. 

“Amore,” Luca called, interrupting his conversation with Jack Nelson due to the annoying noise he heard in the background, “Silence him.” He just ordered in a Sicilian — as a polyglot, Eva understood it — with as many emotions as if he had asked her to close the door, before focusing on his business talk again.  Two words, one command, and the girl moved closer, her steps light, almost graceful, as she entered his line of vision. She was rather small, standing no taller than 5”5, and harmless at first glance with her slender frame and radiant, ever-present smile. But Eva knew more than to trust a smile, especially this one who was nothing but deceptive - a mask to hide the hideous. She had long dark hair that cascaded down her shoulders, framing a cute but bratty face with mismatched eyes — one as dark as night, the other a brilliant, unsettling golden sun — and blood splatters.

“What…” Eva breathed. 

The man’s breathing quickened as she approached, his chest rising and falling in sharp, panicked heaves. He pulled harder at his restraints in a desperate, useless struggle but it only seemed to amuse her. The broken doll-faced woman tilted her head, her smile widening and a look of near delight crossing her face as she took in his terror.  “That’s okay.” She simply said with a fake soothing tone before pulling a sharp knife out and slicing his throat before Eva had the time to bat her eyes. The strong metallic smell of blood came in a wave so strong that Eva took a few steps back with her expensive heels clicking, eyes wide open, and nausea hitting. Jack must have borne witness to the same thing judging by the instant and worried glance he gave to his wife.

“Hm?”  The killer girl said as if she suddenly remembered that other people were in the room. She finally raised her bicolor eyes towards the Mexican beauty and paused, quietly observing Eva’s face whose exquisite color had turned two shades paler with lips parted in shock. The grotesque scene in front of her didn’t make sense — even with blood on her own hands, she could never understand such unleashed cruelty. Such a bright glimmer of pleasure when inflicting pain.  Eva was frozen, but Tina’s reaction to her presence was instant: her bloodied face lit up with gleeful recognition and her wicked grin turned into an innocent smile. She lifted her hand; still dripping with blood, and waved cheerfully.

“Oh, hey!”  She exclaimed in a light and musical voice, as though she'd just bumped into an old friend on the street. There was no malice in her tone, no hint of the brutality she had just shown.

Eva’s heart missed a beat for the first time in a while at the dissonance between her casual, innocent demeanor and the horrors she had just witnessed. It was wrong. Wrong. So fucking wrong, even for her. After all, she wasn’t a good person but she wasn’t…That. 

And “that”  was a whole other level. “That” was the kind of monster who could not be bribed, not be stopped. An abomination that no money nor power could restraint. 

And “that”?

That was Tina. 

tag: @runnning-outof-time, @evita-shelby, @peakyswritings

[writeroutoftime]

marvel

-matt murdock-

Heartbeat - on a lazy day together, you ask for a small peak until Matt’s world

-foggy nelson-

You’re Heart in Exchange for Mine - Foggy has been led to believe it’s the material goods that keep a relationship alive, but you strive to prove to him that all you want is to love him and be loved in return

Feelings Confessed - You like Foggy, Foggy likes you, but neither of you know of the other’s feelings. What could happen when Foggy walks you home from Josie’s one night?

-peter parker-

Not the Same Girl - Before the Blip, Peter would babysit you, but not that he’s back and you’ve grown up, what feelings will come to play? 

Little Fall of Rain - Based on ‘A Little Fall of Rain’ from Les Mis

You're Stunning - When Peter takes your picture unexpectedly, he learns how you feel about yourself and tries to change your mind

Speak Now - When Peter is getting married, you just want to go and make sure he’s happy. but what happens when the officiant asks a very pertinent question?

-jack thompson- 

By Your Side -   “You wanna go save the world with me?”

Undercover Feelings -  You and Jack don’t like each other in the slightest. But when an undercover mission throws the two of you together, what will become of your relationship? (aka - undercover enemies to lovers)  

We’re Okay - When out on the field, you run into a burning building to save a young child, and all Jack can do is pray you’ll be safe

-steve rogers- 

Bail You Out - A midnight call wakes you up, asking you to pick Steve and Bucky up in a less than ideal location 

True Gentleman - After a date with Steve, he wants to make sure that you get home safe, but you reassure him that you’ll be alright

-bucky barnes-

A Secret Language - flower shop au - when Bucky stumbles across your little flower shop, you’re enamored. too bad he keeps coming in to buy flowers for his mystery women (using the prompts “you aren’t over her, are you?/not even close”)

-tony stark- 

The Scoops Troop - It’s Halloween and you want to do a group costume, but Tony isn’t onboard with the idea 

Only Wanna Be With You - It’s yours and Tony’s anniversary but why is he acting so odd?

-druig-

Stop the Tears - Druig finds you crying and can only focus on the pull he feels towards you and taking your tears away

-jack thompson- 

13 Days of Halloween - Day Seven - “I picked it out especially with you in mind. You’re hurting my feelings.” 

-steve rogers-

“you owe me a kiss”

-bucky barnes-

Lost in Love and Time (Ongoing) - Haunted Mansion AU

Prologue Part One || Prologue Part Two || Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four

-peter parker- 

Fools Rush In (Ongoing) - When Peter finds himself claiming to the Avengers that he has a girlfriend, he turns to you for help even though the two of you are class rivals 

Chapter One || Chapter Two

-steve rogers- 

La La Land (Discontinued) - As a struggling actress in the big city, you aren’t sure how you are going to get your big break. Similarly, starving artist, Steve Rogers, doesn’t know how to move on after a deal gone wrong. What happens when you two meet and learn more about yourselves, love, and the power of dreams than you ever though possible? 

Chapter One

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Hai!! I hope that I’m doing this right (correct me if I miss anything! I was unsure as the ask button stated requests closed). For the event~ Full alphabet with Nikolai Gogol if that is applicable. :) Congrats on 3k followers!

Author's Note: Thank you for the reminder that I needed to change my inbox message 😅 One Nikolai alphabet coming up!!

For our 3000 follower celebration! (CLOSED NOW)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Depending on what you did during sex, he'll either need to be babied or he'll be very sweet and loving.

If the sex was particularly rough, or you partook in a CNC scene: Nikolai is normally incoherent and needs to be grounded before he can even think of checking in on you.

If it was not rougher sex: Nikolai will not be able to keep his lips off of you. He's giving you a peck on the lips or cheek every other second, or kissing your neck as you both catch your breath.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I'm going to say that he likes his legs the best. Nikolai is rather flexible, and he keeps his leg strength up to par with the rest of his muscles.

As for you, Nikolai loves your co– *gets shot*

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Average thickness, but when Nikolai cums, he really cums. White ropes splatter on whatever surface he was aiming at, and it sticks to his or your fingers as well.

Nikolai enjoys eating cum too. Doesn't matter if it's yours or his, he'll happily suck your fingers clean either way~

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's into glory holes. Really, he's infatuated with the anonymity of them, and how he can simply be a hole for someone's pleasure — faceless, no strings attached, no chance of catching feelings, no other responsibilities. Just a cock or two that he can service for a time~

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Nikolai has quite some experience under his belt. He's had some hook-ups here and there and some one night stands, so he knows what he's doing.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. May include a visual)

He likes to be on his knees, and he adores being put in a full nelson position. Nikolai also prefers when you're behind him. The feeling of you rubbing up against his back while your cock ravages his insides is too good 🖤

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Goofball for sure. The little shit makes puns in the middle of giving you a bj… he also makes a lot of dirty jokes/innuendos inside and outside of the bedroom.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I'm spreading my fluffy white bush propaganda— His pubic hair is slightly softer than average, and he doesn't even have to do anything special to it. He doesn't bother to trim it either, Nikolai just lets it do its thing.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He's reluctant to bring it up, but Nikolai does value intimacy and wishes you would get more intimate during sex. Sure, he likes it rough, but I think he'd truly melt if you told him how much you love him while you're spanking him or something.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He masturbates maybe a little too much… he uses fleshlights a lot, and he'll hump a pillow or blanket when he has the time. But Nikolai's trusty hand and imagination are all he needs more often than not!

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

What is this lunatic not into, honestly?

Spanking, biting, blood play, knives or guns, CNC, hair pulling, sounding, roleplay, kidnapping, bondage, petplay…

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

In public, usually. The risk of getting discovered adds a little spice to your fun times~

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Nikolai loses his mind when you don't even flinch when he threatens someone else (or you directly). Think of that scene where he tells Fyodor "I missed you, bestie! …… That's why I'm here to kill you." or however it went. You take his craziness in stride, and that display of confidence flips some switch in his brain.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I really don't think Nikolai would be into cucking/cheating kinks at all.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

While Nikolai won't say no to his lover sucking him off, he'd rather be the one between your legs. He loves the taste of cock, and any opportunity to pull yours out and have you in his mouth is fair game in his opinion.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Well, Niko always says he wants it rough, but really he has no strong preference. Sex is sex, and as long as you're willing to entertain him, then he's a happy little clown 🤍🖤

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not opposed to quickies, but if that's all you two can manage for a while, he will get pretty sad :(

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

…To a frightening degree. As mentioned, Nikolai is no stranger to especially dangerous kinks like blood play or using weapons or taxing kinks like CNC, and he's willing to go pretty far for the extra thrill.

You honestly have to reel him back sometimes, lest one of you ends up injured or traumatized for real. The same applies when he suggests extremely public sex. Like… sweetheart, I love you, but we can't just do it in the middle of the fast food place…

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

I do think that Nikolai has high stamina (and a high sex drive to match), so he can go for 2 rounds minimum, though he prefers to keep going usually.

He gets a bit whiny if you need to rest or stop, but he will respect your boundaries.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

As mentioned before, he owns multiple fleshlights, but he has much more than a few basic toys. Nikolai owns quite the collection: a few dildos, a vibrator, anal beads, some rope, a ball gag, and even a puppy mask.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The king of teasing. Nikolai is so unfair, and he loves it too! He's such a giggly mess about it too, you just want to slap that grin right off of his face–

He will do everything in his power to tease you, even during a punishment.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

This man will not shut up, not even if you gag him! He just moans through the gag. Your poor neighbors hear much more than they'd like to…

Nikolai's moans are closer to whines, and when he cums, he makes this sharp high-pitched screech. If you didn't know better, you'd swear that he was in pain. But nope, that's just normal for him.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Nikolai sticks his tongue out during sex. It's completely involuntary, and if you bring it up right after sex, he'll be embarrassed about it. Any other time and he just laughs it off or teases you for noticing.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

5 or 6 inches, not super thick, and uncut as well. There's a small scar just above his pubic hair too, though Nikolai tells a different story every time he explains how he got it.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Very high. Though I think he goes through periods where he's not in the mood for sex at all. They only last about a week before he's right back to his usual horny level.

Z = ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He won't fall asleep right away, but if you're tired and want to take a nap or go right to bed, Nikolai will join you. He prefers to rest with your hands scratching his scalp, or with his hands in your hair :)

[zablife]

Fragile Things

Jack Nelson x female reader

Author's Note: Written from an anon ask I can't find in my inbox anymore, requesting some soft, smutty Jack thru the seasons. It turned angsty at the end as I listened to "Munich" by the Editors, but I hope you still enjoy it! It's short with an open ending, but I thought I'd post it instead of letting it sit in my drafts any longer.

Warnings: hint of smut, mention of cheating

The open window blew a gentle spring breeze into the room along with the scent of lilacs you’d planted in the fall. You’d kept busy those dark months as Jack traveled, trying not to think what might happen if he never returned. It hadn’t been easy to calm yourself in the early days, whispering prayers into the wind. Your unsteady hands craved his touch upon your shoulder tethering you to reality. Without it, you felt as though you might float away. Sometimes you still found it difficult if he went too long without visiting.

But he’s here now, you thought as you gazed up at him, memorizing every golden fleck in his bright green irises. The feeling of his arms caging your upper body protectively was comforting and you dug your heels against the backs of his thighs, urging him nearer to your aching core. He pushed you further into the mattress with a deep stroke of his pelvis, full lips brushing yours before licking into your mouth hungrily. It was the first time your mind had truly quieted in weeks.

As you came down from your high, you whimpered at the loss of him as he withdrew from your body, rolling onto his back with a contented sigh. He reached for you with one arm, beckoning you to his side and you nuzzled into him. His fingers carded through your hair, massaging your scalp and tangling in your disheveled locks. You pressed your cheek against his bare chest to feel the rhythm of his heart, allowing it to lull you to sleep when he suddenly spoke. 

“Gotta go to New York tomorrow, doll,” he whispered on an exhale of breath. Closing your eyes against the tears threatening to fall, you snaked a hand around his waist possessively. It had only been two days since his return and the thought of him leaving again was too much to bear. You glanced at the clock on the bedside table quickly realizing your crushing loneliness was only hours away.

You sat up, clutching the bedsheet to your chest as you stared at Jack in disbelief. “Can't you stay any longer? You just got here,” you protested, hoping to change his mind.

Jack rubbed a hand along your back soothingly. “I know, angel, but it’s business. I have to,” he explained. Despite the softness in his voice, you took no solace in it.

Turning away from him to reach for his jacket, you fumbled in the dark for his cigarettes and lighter, needing something to distract you. “You’ll be a good girl for me, no pouting?,” he asked and without having to look, you could imagine his mouth curling into a charming smile. As your fingertips brushed paper, you frowned slightly. Pulling it from his pocket, you squinted in the light to make out a woman’s name and a New York address. Your heart dropped at the sight of the unfamiliar loopy handwriting and tomorrow's date inside a heart.

“Doll?” he called out when he realized you were softly shaking your head. His large hand came to rest atop your thigh and gave a gentle squeeze to get your attention, but your thoughts had drifted back where he could no longer reach you. You were somewhere in the garden planting flowers while he dined with her, falling asleep in a cold bed as he warmed hers and dreaming of a man who never thought of you.

You stood from the bed and glared down at him with a quiet anger he instantly recognized, the accusation written over your tear stained face. “People are fragile things, Jack,” you mused. “You should be careful what you put them through."

[evita-shelby]

Hunt

Vampire Hunter!Jack Nelson x Vampire!Reader

Cw: murder, blood, seduction, revenge

Gif by @violaobanion

He doesn’t know if it’s the boredom or his impulsive nature that has him following you out the speakeasy with the drunk fool you play like a fiddle.

He's seen you before, always leading men or women out and then they are never seen again.

He’d found some of your victims, despite what you did to dispose of them they all had one thing in common.

They had been drained from their blood.

Jack had heard the tales, of these demons who drank away your soul through your blood.

He had assumed they’d be ugly and deformed like they paint all demons ,but you were stunning, almost shone like a diamond in the lights of the place and shined like ivory under the light of the moon.

So he follows you, watches you bring the man into an empty alley and drain him from his blood before disposing of him like a professional cleaner.

He wants you, as bad of an idea as it was, Jack wants you.

“It’s rude to stare, honey.” You say with a sultry tone he’s always dreamed of hearing.

“Can’t a man admire such a work of art, baby doll?” he asks coming into the abandoned tenement building.

“I bet you say that to all the ladies, Mr. Nelson.” You smile and fall into a fall sense of security thinking he’s easy prey.

“Only the pretty ones, Y/N,” he said coming closer, like a man seeking a lover would.

You are onto him, using all your charms to seduce him into staying and he does a good job of looking like he’s under your spell.

He should give acting a try, he already pretends to be fine with being a wall-street investor and the future president’s friend. And now he has you fooled.

If you hadn’t been so foolish you would’ve seen the crucifix under his shirt, smelled the holy water in his breath and felt the wooden blade hidden under his sleeve.

He pulled you into his arms, and you wrapped your arms around his neck still thinking you’ve won.

He smirks when you taste defeat in his poisoned kiss and find yourself at his mercy.

But he doesn’t got any, nor for you. Not for the woman who killed his brother and made sweet little Gina an orphan a year ago.

“That was for my brother.”

Once its over, he lights a cigarette and tossed the match at the pile of bodies you now lie on top of.

[ectologia]

The bakugou putting you in a headlock was so fucking filthy... I loved it 😭

i forgot about that one

it’s so hot

like just imagine being put in a choke-hold with bakugou’s massive pumped biceps around your neck and you’re just coughing and heaving into his elbow while he hits it from the back

or a full nelson where he literally just folds you like a deck chair and drills into your pussy from below, feet planted into the mattress, jacking your twat while his fat ball-sack slaps against your clit

or even, a standing full nelson where he bounces you on his cock mid-air

just up and down, up and down

nothin’ you can do about it

and he does that thing guys do when they’re going so fast their grunts and moans sort of quiver in-time with their thrusts

like rr — rr — rr — rr

and he’s gritting his teeth and growling while he humps

literally clenching his ass because he’s going at it so hard

[nanabrainrot]

Leg Lock [Pervert!Miguel]

Miguel isn’t convinced you’re as adept in as many martial arts as you say; he says you can only prove it with a spar.

Warning! NSFW content ahead. DUBIOUS CONSENT - reader is oblivious the way he’s wrestling is to cop a feel and that he cums on himself :/ what a freak

Pervert!Miguel x F!Oblivious!Reader

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You were none the wiser. Your spidey senses just didn’t pick up on the ways of men - you were no mind reader. The definition of book smart but not street smart. It’s unbelievable you accepted his personal “challenge” to spar and no less showed up in this ensemble: the smallest compression shorts that was barely even the size of boyshorts and a form fitting tank with a v that dipped dangerously low to the stretch of skin between your tits.

The fact he turned up the air conditioner and had the fan looming above on full blast only served to sweeten the sight by making your nipples pebble against the polyester mix. If he put enough friction across your chest, if you were sensitive you’d surely moan or at least give him a choked gasp; something to jack off to later.

“You ready to eat your words, Miguel?” you huffed seriously. The comical difference between you two was shown in the shadow cast by the fluorescent overhead light in the spinning fan: he was standing hands on his hips and stone-faced at one end of the personal training room and you at the other, bouncing on the balls of your feet with hands already stiff in front like a boxer. It didn’t help it looked like a yippy chihuahua hounding a rottweiler for a fight.

“Just try to at least land a hit -“

You lunged forward, shin flying up to try and meet his neck only to be blocked by his forearm. His eyes widen at your fast pace, but narrow as he meets your onslaught of moves with defenses. The little wraps around your fists do graze his skin as you batter at him with a flurry of fists like a boxer, though your kicks definitely reminded him of capoeira. The speed of it had to be from mixed martial arts and speedboxing while your grace and precision was karate inspired. And he could tell you did jiu jitsu by the way you tried to get him in a leg lock, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist and use your arms to push at his neck hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

You had to have known that move would have put you in this position: back pressed hard to the mat with no way out. You were incredibly skilled, surprising him with the flurry of fists and kicks fast enough to put him in a position where he could only really use defense but definitely underestimated what he was willing to do to best you.

Miguel had a black belt in jiu jitsu, teaching classes at the dojo Gabby went to back in Nueva York, hard pressed to raise a girl who could handle her own. If you hadn’t overestimated yourself and started off using so much energy, you wouldn’t be panting like this.

Your brows knit, face tense with focus as you gauged your next move but his mind was anywhere but this spar: his cock was against your groin. The sorry excuse of shorts left nothing to the imagination only confirmed that under it was nothing but your bare puffy cunt as his knees drove into the mat to set you in place under him, your wrists pinned under his. “You didn’t land a hit. Too big of an ego can get you -“

A hard impact of your feet hitting his pecs and sending him back from the surprise as you rolled back in a tuck and jumped to your feet back in a boxing stance. Flyaways stuck out from your messy hair from being pinned to the mat as your chest heaved, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“Can get me what?” you snorted in between short breaths.

“Get you -“ Miguel lunged forward, his legs long and strong enough to dart behind you to grab you by the waist and drag you to the floor, “-killed.”

Whines and grunts of struggle left you as you tried to get out of the compromising position: Miguel had you in a nelson on the floor, big hot palms of his hands on your neck and arm pinning back your biceps as you tried to grab at his wrists to apply enough force to get him to have a looser grip.

Too focused is a bad thing, sometimes. The fabric of your volleyball compression shorts that were more like panties rode up as your ass grinded against his groin - cock hard and twitching in his sweatpants as your feet struggled to get enough friction with the mat to be able to do a backbend or tuck and roll to use your flexibility. Dozens of possible routes flit in your mind and zero of them acknowledged you were basically being dry humped by Miguel: his grunts from the friction mistakes for grunts of effort. In reality, you were easy to restrain but the issue was your agility and speed compared to his strength - a given granted his strength based workout regimen versus yours, which focused on flexibility.

“If powers were allowed, I’d have had you pinned in the first minute,” you panted, lip twitching in focus as you continued to roll your hips against his as you struggled to find footing to be able to utilize your flexibility and roll over him. He must be smart, you think (stupidly), as his legs suddenly push against the mat and have him standing: yet you hang there in a full nelson. “That’s not funny, Miguel!” you hissed, as his forearms settled under your thighs during the shift and the palms secured at your neck still. The size difference suddenly made you realize why spars had size and weight classes; but there were no weight classes with the villains and anomalies you regularly encountered, he chastisted as he offered a spar with you.

If you had your powers allowed, you would’ve had him against the ceiling by now. But you shook on it. God, you wish you had a weaker sense of integrity and just said fuck it and blasted him with your power to get out of this humiliating debacle. The only thing left in reach was his fingers.

Your hands fly to the fingers locked behind your neck keeping you mid air as you resorted to a dirty trick: scratching with nails. A low hiss emits as he drops you and loses footing, landing on top of you: groin to ass. The dirty trick leaves him huffing with anger as he suddenly has you in a head lock, your hands batting at him pathetically. You just wanted to tap out, he could tell, but he just needed one thing: to have his way.

His hips roll into your pussy, feigning it as trying to keep you pinned by shifting weight from knee to knee in a side-to-side motion and lurched forward sometimes. The fact you kept bucking your hips to get out of the pin only helped him along; the warmth of your pussy would have been nicer, but next spar. Knowing your competitive nature, you would go along with a naked wrestling competition if it meant coming out on top.

But he’s on top right now, his hot breath fanning your ear as you mewl and bat at the thick forearnms around your neck pinning you. “F-fine…!” you whine out, borderline pornographic in your pleading, “you win!”

His hips roll again, with you still bucking your hips back into him. “Say it again.” He knew your whiny nature, the way when you wanted your way you would do anything: most missions consisted of you pleading and begging to see the sights on other dimensions or stop by food stalls like you were on vacation. He fucking spoiled you but even bratty bitches need discipline.

“You win!”

“Louder!”

“You win, Miguel!”

A hot pant. Fuck, the way you were whining and bucking in this position was getting him close. A few more words and he’d surely cum, wearing the dark sweatpants and a long baggy tee that loomed over where the wet spot would be specifically with this in mind. No powers put you in a disadvantage, the height and mass difference would never let you win. A spar was just a reason to hump you as you stupidly wriggled and cried out. One more sentence, then he’ll cum, cum and stop. The urge will leave and he can go back to being sated and content without distraction; he was too busy to keep entertaining this disgusting fantasy of fucking you every day and night. Just one more sentence to freedom.

A hot puff of air in your ear before a deep raspy voice hisses, “Now tell me I’m big and strong and I’ll let you go.” Your eyes widen as you look in confusion at the mat, his face behind you as you chest was still glued to the mat thanks to his weight.

“T-tell you what?”

“Say ‘you’re too big and strong for me, Miguel.’” A roll of the hips.

“No! I can still win!” you buck back harder, hips shifting hard between his groin and the mat to try and get out. Your nails sink into his forearms but he doesn’t move. You can’t get out until you say it. It’s a shameful dawn of emotion that wounds your pride. But you can get stronger, spar with him more, until you can beat him - powers or no powers.

“Say it and you can go.” The wriggling winds down as time stretches, you finally going limp and panting on the mat with his weight still crushing you.

A gulp.

Softer than a whisper, “You’re so big and strong, Miguel…”

The cum spurts into his briefs, inevitably ruining them and leaving a wet spot in the pants. You’re too tired, limp, to feel his clothed dick twitch against your pussy through the shorts.

You don’t even feel happy when he clumbers off you; in your universe you were a master of the arts and your powers only enhanced this great feat. Yet, you still lost to your boss. You want a rematch.

No.

You need a rematch.

He clumbers away, slow heavy footfalls and low panting breaths as he strides to the exit of the personal training room. Sitting back on your heels still panting but back to him as he walked away you find enough energy to ask: “Same time next week, Miguel?”

You’ll win. You’ll run a million miles, do a thousand crunches, and eat your weight - no, Miguel’s weight in protein and come out victorious next week as you always do. Just because he’s a man it didn’t mean you had no chance: it only meant you had to work harder.

Quiet. He’s panting though, you hear it, but the strain in his voice isn’t just from the spar: “Same time next week.”

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hope yall likedd feel free to leave requests or anything in my inbox! its p empty rn - I have a hobie fic coming next <3

[sansaorgana]

— WELCOME HOME, DADDY

🚨 This fanfic is a repost from 22 Apr 2022 from my different blog. I kept the Author's Note and everything from the fic the same as it was back then.

PAIRING — Jack Nelson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Little Maggie Nelson can’t wait for her daddy to come back home from his business London trip.

AUTHOR’S NOTE [22 Apr 2022] — Maggie Nelson is absolutely made up by me and she absolutely lives in my head rent free, I have like 100 headcanons with her at this point and I’m going to make it everybody else’s problem! Here's a smutty one-shot that can be treated as Part Two!

WORD COUNT — 2,160

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

WELCOME HOME, DADDY

It was no secret that Jack wanted a boy. When you were pregnant, he was often patting your belly and smirking while commenting on the fact that it had been his son growing there. He seemed to be so fixated on the idea of having a male heir that you started to believe it would be a boy as well – you didn’t even want to imagine not having a son.

When you were giving birth, Jack was in another room, drinking whiskey nervously in an old-fashioned manner while your screams and groans filled the whole house. And then you pushed the baby out and one more voice joined your cries. You sighed with relief when…

“Go tell Mr. Nelson that he’s got a daughter,” the Doctor told the midwife. She nodded and left the room.

You were petrified. He handed you a crying baby still covered in blood and put her on your chest. You looked down with widened eyes and swallowed thickly. She was beautiful – she was your baby girl and you already knew you would die to protect her but… But the sound of Jack’s footsteps made you flinch.

He stormed inside the room rapidly as his eyes immediately found yours. It was difficult to read his facial expression but he was even paler than usual.

“I-I-I’m so sorry, Jack,” you sobbed, instinctively pressing the baby closer to your chest and staining your nightgown even further with blood.

But he looked like he wasn’t even listening to you. Instead, he approached the bed and leaned over your shoulder to take a look at his crying daughter.

“Aw, baby, don’t you cry, daddy’s gotcha,” he cooed to her and his big hands reached out for her. You let him do that, watching him carefully. His steel eyes were set on the newborn girl, though, and on her only. He was mesmerized, didn’t even care about getting his suit dirty.

And she stopped crying the moment she was set in his arms. The midwife approached him to show him how to hold her properly and he adjusted his hands without looking away even for a second.

“Jack, the next one will be a boy,” you whispered.

“Look at you, so beautiful,” he ignored you and cooed to the baby. “My little Princess. Daddy will give you a world, I promise, my little lady.”

You shut your mouth and sighed. That was the day when you lost your husband but you weren't even mad about it.

For now, there wasn’t any other yet, there was still only her – four years old Margaret but everyone called her Maggie. Little Maggie Nelson was a sensation all over Boston and anywhere she’d go, really.

Spoiled but sweet, in her neat dresses and pretty bows in her hair, she looked like a real-life doll. Jack was not the type who would spend all his days at home but whenever he was there, she would occupy his lap. She was so charming that all his business partners adored her and Jack was of course taking advantage of it.

But he hadn’t taken you two to London. He had gone there to buy import licenses but also to do a job for President Roosevelt himself. A job you had no idea of but you didn’t really want to know either. You stayed in Boston with Maggie and waited for your husband’s return, hoping he wouldn’t catch anything contagious while fucking all the whores in London.

That was the way Jack had been but you loved him nevertheless. And you knew that he had loved you, too. When you’re married to a man like Jack, there are some things you just have to accept.

“Mrs. Nelson,” the maid walked inside the living room where you had been laying on the sofa and reading a magazine.

“Yes?” you didn’t even look up.

“It’s about Miss Nelson… She’s throwing a tantrum over the color of the bow in her hair,” she sighed and you chuckled before putting the magazine down and standing up.

“She’s just excited. Jack comes back today,” you reminded the maid with a smile.

“She doesn’t know which color Mr. Nelson would like the most.”

“Oh, silly little Maggie,” you shook your head and went upstairs to her room.

Maggie was sitting on the edge of her bed, her little legs dangling above the floor cutely. Her arms were crossed and she was pouting.

“Maggie, Maggie, Maggie…” you started with a chuckle while leaning on the doorway and she huffed. “Don’t you know, my little dollie, that daddy would love every color on you?”

“And what are you wearing for daddy’s return, mommy?” she asked and raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing special, to be honest…” you admitted and looked down at the dress you were wearing. “Just it, I think.”

“But daddy’s coming back home today!” Maggie gasped. “You have to dress up for him real nice!”

“Alright then, I will,” you smiled kindly and approached the wardrobe to take out the box with all her ribbons. “I’ll wear a blue one, okay?” you handed her a blue ribbon.

“No, not that one,” she shook her head.

“Pink?” you handed her another.

“You’ll wear a pink dress for daddy?”

“Well, if I have to,” you chuckled. “Pink is a pretty color and before you were born I used to wear it more often.”

“Why not anymore?” Maggie asked out of curiosity as the maid approached you to take the pink ribbon out of your hand.

“Because it’s your color now, Maggie.”

“Oh, mommy, I can share!” she gasped and you chuckled before leaning in to peck her cheek.

“Alright, dollie, we will share.”

You left her alone with the maid again and went to your own bedroom to change the dress as you had promised.

Jack was back right before dinner. You were waiting in the hall, squeezing your little girl’s hand. For her those two weeks were like two years and when she heard the sound of Jack’s car parking on the driveway, she ran out of the house.

“Maggie, be careful!” you rushed after her.

She was running and jumping at the same time to be faster, which had been a terrible idea to do while going down the stairs. Thankfully, her daddy’s arms saved her from a spectacular fall.

“Easy, Princess, daddy’s gotcha,” Jack chuckled and you sighed with relief.

“Daddy! Daddy! I missed you! I missed you so much!” she screamed and literally jumped into his arms. Jack laughed at that and put his arms around her.

“Welcome home, Jack,” you greeted him more nonchalantly than your daughter and you leaned in for a kiss. The corners of your mouths touched while giving each other a peck on the cheek.

“My girls all in pink today?” he teased with a grin.

“Oh, daddy, it’s for you!” Maggie cupped his face and started kissing it all over.

“Maggie, that’s enough, daddy’s tired,” you sighed and tried to take her from him but she protested.

“It’s fine,” he nodded and went inside the house. A butler nodded at him and took his car keys to park the car and take the bags out of the trunk. You followed your husband and a daughter.

“The dinner will be served soon,” you told Jack and put your hand on his arm after he had placed Maggie on the floor.

“Good, I’m starving,” he leaned in to kiss your cheek once again. “I bought you lots of pretty things in London,” he whispered into your ear and you chuckled. Then he looked down on Maggie. “Daddy bought you lots of things, too, Princess.”

“Oh, daddy, you didn’t have to!” her eyes widened.

“So… I can send them back to London then?” he teased.

“I didn’t say that!” she huffed and crossed her arms. Jack laughed.

“Of course I won’t, dollie. Now, what have I missed?” He put his hands into his pockets.

“I was writing you letters every day, daddy!” Maggie made puppy eyes. “Mommy said that sending them would be a waste because it’s been only two weeks and you wouldn’t get some of them. But I will give them to you now!” She decided and went upstairs.

“She can write now?” Jack scratched the back of his head.

“She’s slowly learning how to. I was the hand,” you chuckled and led him to the living room. “How was the business?”

“Good. I got licenses, “ he nodded and sat down on the sofa in a lazy manner.

“And… And the job for The President?” you lowered your voice nervously.

“It’s done, don’t you worry, doll. Told you not to worry about anything.”

“I’m sorry… I… I seem to worry even more now…” you sighed and sat down next to him.

“That’s bad. You don’t have to worry at all anymore, (Y/N),” he put his arm around you and kissed your temple. “You hear me? Worrying days are over for you, baby.”

“Yes, Jack, I understand,” you nodded. “Did Gina have fun?” you rolled your eyes. You didn’t like his niece much.

“Gina’s always having fun,” he chuckled. “She was all over the society. Upper class, you know.”

“Oh.”

“Next time I’ll take you with me,” he caressed your cheek and you hugged him tight. “You’ll show them bastards some class.”

“Me? Class?!” you laughed.

“Baby, once you’ll meet their ladies, you’ll understand that you’re a real class indeed.”

“Jack, you’re being too sweet! Makes me want to eat you up!” you teased.

“You gotta wait for the evening with that, doll.”

“Daddy!” Maggie ran inside the living room with a small box in her hand. You smiled at the sight and moved away to let her sit on her father’s lap.

“What is it?” Jack asked.

“My letters!” she reminded him.

“Ah, yes,” he nodded and opened the box. There were 14 pastel pink envelopes, all tied with a red thread.

“They’re all addressed to you! Mommy helped me with that,” Maggie added and grabbed Jack’s pinky finger to play with his ring.

“Should I read them all now?” Jack tried to sound enthusiastic.

“Mr. and Mrs. Nelson,” the maid walked in with a smile, “I’m about to serve dinner.”

“Excellent!” you stood up and moved the magazine away to put the box down on the table. “Maggie, we will read the letters to daddy after dinner. He’s hungry after the trip and he must eat.”

“Alright then,” she sighed and left Jack’s lap to hold your hand. “But after we read letters, we will also show daddy the new song I have learnt, okay?”

“Of course,” you nodded and caressed her head. She ran out of the living room to follow the maid.

You smiled to yourself and turned around but then you froze at the sight of Jack. He suddenly had a very serious expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“What is this?” he handed you a familiar card and you swallowed thickly. “It was laying on the carpet. Fell out of your magazine.”

“It’s a card… With a doctor’s name,” you approached him to take the card from him.

“I don’t know this doctor,” he pointed out and squinted his eyes at the printed name once again. “What’s going on?”

“Jack, I just wanted a new doctor, that’s it.”

“What did you need one for?” He kept being suspicious.

“I needed a checkup,” you sighed and then you hung your head. “Fuck, you ruined it.”

“Ruined what?”

“A surprise. I wanted to tell you when we’d be alone in the evening… I’m pregnant,” you muttered and put the card back into the magazine. It was your bookmark.

“Wait, you’re… You really are?” Jack’s eyes sparkled and you looked up to meet his gaze. You nodded.

“Got my blood test’s results over the phone two days ago. I am,” you nodded.

“Does Maggie know?”

“For God’s sake, of course she doesn’t! She’d tell you straight away!” you chuckled. “But… I’m also scared.”

“Scared of what, doll?” Jack furrowed his brow and approached you to put his hands around your waist.

“That she’s gonna be jealous. You know what she’s like.”

“Yeah, I know what she’s like. She’s just like her mommy,” Jack teased. “Adorable, beautiful, smart and very fucking jealous,” he leaned in to kiss you but once again you got interrupted by the irritated voice of your daughter.

“Are you two coming or not?!”

“We’re coming,” you chuckled and turned around to face her. “The faster we eat, the faster we get our presents, am I right, Maggie?”

“Oh, mommy, unbelievable!” she exclaimed. “You’re sooooo spoiled! Daddy, you should do something about it!”

MASTERLIST

[call-sign-shark]

Bird of A Feather || Peaky Blinders x OCs

A short story for the wonderful @evita-shelby inspired by her moodboard gift Bird of A Feather.

Words: less than 1k

TW: Tommy and Heaven together (this is real warning for any HYE reader😂), allusions to drugs, overdose and sex. Ethical slur because of the show. Also this is not proof read, we die like men.

Notes: Reference to this chapter of HYE.

None of this was supposed to happen.

It was what Heaven thought when she watched her own reflection in the mirror of the ridiculously expensive suite's bathroom Mr. Shelby had booked for their stay in Boston. As she reflected on her new life, her slender fingers nervously tried to untangle the long gold and diamond earring chain Tommy had gifted her prior the trip. The vortex of her raging thoughts was so wild that she didn't hear the door opening, nor the husky and charming voice that called her name. Her body suddenly jerked when she felt one strong yet warm hand resting on her shoulder — She turned around in one vivid movement, the angelic complexions of her face only relaxing when they met with familiar turquoise eyes.

"Are you ready?" Tommy asked, one of his brow slightly arched as his piercing and ice-cold iris carefully observed the white-haired woman's features.

"Almost, but I can't seem to get rid out of this damn knot."

"Let me check." Three words again, said with the same collected tone whose deep and sultry voice sent shivers down her spine. Without wasting more saliva, Tommy brought his hands to the jewel and started to untangle it. "Don't you like it?" He broke the silence, "You always wear gold, but diamonds make a delightful echo to your crystal eyes." The thought of Tommy noticing such trivial details about her still felt odd considering how profound their mutual hatred had been for years. But Lizzie taking the kids had given them a little push.

"I do." She reassured, offering him a faint smile. They were so close that she could feel the heat radiating off him, as well as the elegant fragrances of his cologne tingling her nostrils.

"So why do you look so unhappy, ay?" He finally succeed in rearranging her earring, his calloused fingers gently grazing her reddened earlobe before finding rest on one of her cold cheeks. Tenderly. Lovingly.

"I'm just a bit anxious. I always hated big gatherings, let alone when the whole crowd is made of political figures, rich heirs and nobs." The way her lips pouted and her expression turned into a childish one as she pressed her face harder against his comforting palm snatched an amused snort from him, and yet… Tommy understood — her wild soul belonged to the forest and mountains no matter the expensive jewels and finest, seductive dresses. Heaven was not cut for this hypocritical world. The gangster leaned over her dainty frame and brought his face closer until their fiery breathe mixed and their nose touched.

“Think of them as your stupid little preys, just like you did in the forest. You might be on their territory but you are the predator here, and they should be the ones quivering with fear. Not you.” He pronounced this in intoxicating whispers that manage to lull her anxiety — or maybe it was because she was focusing on how his breath had quickened now that their mouths were so close. Batting her eyelashes, the white witch slowly nodded: they would be the real menace of the whole ballroom. Tommy drowned himself in the frost desert of her eyes for a bit, his thumb slightly pulling her fleshy lower lip down, “And if it is not enough, remember that I’ll stay by your side and keep you out of sorrow.” As he concluded, his placid face split in a wide and fierce grin that showcased his teeth. A genuine Tommy Shelby’s smile, scarcer than the rarest gem.

“And I’ll keep you out of it too.” She replied, mirroring his smile but with a more moderate one.

“That’s it, Devil.” He affectionately called the petite witch before his sweet liquored lips crashed against hers, the whisky taste blinding all her other senses and making the world outside fade to black. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, surges of electricity cursing through her body as the infamous gangster deepened the embrace. Amidst the chaos they had left behind in Birmingham they stood, his free hand pressing on her lower back to pull her closer until his strong chest flattened her small breast and every of their curves fit snugly altogether. After all that separated them, Tommy had finally won: his brother’s beloved angel belonged to him and only him… Conquered and with her wings pinned, Heaven forgot how wrong it felt and gave in, her tongue shyly waltzing with her old enemy’s. With that wicked brother-in-law she wished to see dead not that long ago. When their mouth parted and Heaven tried to break the embrace to go back dolling herself up, Tommy grabbed her wrist firmly, pupils dilated with pride and lust.

“No. Kiss me again.” His husky voice ordered.

The whole party was probably the most boring one she had ever attended and to make her evening worst, Americans proved that their awful tastes also encompassed alcohol. Not the smallest bottle of red wine had been put on tables, only dry and bitter champagne they were proud to show off as if it was the pinnacle of the French culture. Heaven winced after the first sip and immediately put the glass back where she had taken it, hoping no one had notice her bad manners — she definitely wasn’t one of them, and navigating among the upper-class crowd was not as easy as Tommy made it look. Her mind started to form the words “Arthur would never…” but soon her heart tightened in her chest and she forced herself to chase away the thought of her beloved former husband. “Arthur is not here anymore.” Tommy’s voice echoed in her head. In truth, the lanky gangster had stopped being there the moment he relapsed in drug again, trading cocaine for opium. It had been too much and, loyal to her principles, Heaven left. Never ever she would have imagined that Arthur would be found months later in the Chinese quarters with a syringe in his arm, devoid of life. And while she was spitefully musing over and over again on these cursed memories, two vicious pair of eyes stared at her.

“She looks like she’s about to murder everyone here.” A bewitching feminine voice resounded, catching the attention of the tall American man standing next to her, “I like that.” Eva added, bringing the fine crystal of her glass to her blood-red lips to sip the fancy cocktail she had ordered. At her words, Jack’s mouth curled in a shark-like smile, the scar on his upper lip stretching as he did.

“And she’s hot.” He said, the couple giving each other a conspiratorial glance, “That’s what you were about to say, weren’t you, Goddess?” His manly hand discreetly slipped from her lower back to her ass, grabbing one of her cheeks firmly. Eva snort in reply, side-eying her cheeky husband before focusing her attention on the delicate but wild angel that was impatiently waiting for Tommy to come back from his smoke outside. Lost in her contemplation for a short while, the Mexican witch wondered how such a seraph-looking creature could wear a stare that cold. How could she radiate off something that… Unsettling? Anxiety-inducing? Threatening? She couldn’t even find the right word.

“Feeling sinful, Daddy?” The Mexican beauty, sublimed by an overtly expensive red dress, cooed with a sultry tone that would have turned the meanest man to a brainless drooling dog.

“With you? Always, Goddess.” He winked at her before leaning for a kiss on her temple but a few seconds later the two future presidential couple saw their new associate coming back to the ballroom and heading straight to the lonely white-haired brat, “So you were right, she’s Thomas Shelby’s sweetheart. The Gypsie bastard got himself a fucking pretty pussy.”

“A witch.” Eva corrected, her tone stricter as she pronounced the word, “And he’s rather handsome too. Both are highly fuckable.” She mused, her dark eyes never leaving the newlyweds.

“Well, let me introduce you to them then! After all, we’re in business together now.” Jack suggested, burying his nose in his wife’s long dark hair to relish on her enchanting perfume. Fuck — if they weren’t that busy he would have ruined her cunt in another room right now.

“Excellent idea, Jack. Introduce me to them.” Eva emphasizes on the word, finally looking at the tall American with the flames of sin dancing in her evil eyes. It was all it took for Jack to understand his wife’s intentions… And they were in total harmony with his. “I hope we could officialize our partnership with them in a more intimate and fun way than just a handshake.” As possessive as they were together — as possessive as the English and French mirror facing them — Eva foresaw their agreement about her perverse suggestion, but the truth was there was no need to be a clairvoyant witch for guessing right.

The four of them were all sinners.

[angelic--kitty]

I’m making an educated guess based on the abs poll that you also like ripped Genshin women and honestly who would be more jacked than the god of war herself? There’s even a bulletin board post in the arena that the weights she uses for training in her personal chambers are so heavy that when she puts them down they are mistaken for small earthquakes. Like I can’t be the only one finding that insanely hot right??? I can just imagine watching her work out and marveling at her and your staring just turning her on so much that she stops and just takes you on the floor of her chambers 🫣

oh my god this made me gasp

SHE IS 100% JACKED!!! ABS AND ALL I KNOW IT I KNOW IT IDC

on my knees for her tbh... teehee

i want her to pick me up and fuck me full nelson i mean what who said that what

also anon this was so well articulated where have you been in my life 😼💍

[thatthirdtriplet]

Relationships:

Batfamily Members & Alfred Pennyworth Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne Batfamily Members & Bruce Wayne Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson Martha Wayne/Thomas Wayne Bruce Wayne & Martha Wayne & Thomas Wayne Janet Drake/Jack Drake John Constantine/Zatanna Zatara

Characters:

Tim Drake Cassandra Cain Bruce Wayne Jason Todd Dick Grayson duke Thomas Damian Wayne Alfred Pennyworth Stephanie Brown Barbara Gordon Jim Gordon Jack Drake Janet Drake Ra's al Ghul Leslie Tompkins prudence Wood Zeddmore WashingtonOwens (DCU) David Cain original Characters John Constantine Zatanna ZataraKent Nelson Harvey Dent Edward Nygma Roman Sionis The Joker Hal Jordan (Green Lantern) J'onn J'onzz

Additional Tags:

BAMF Tim Drake BAMF Batfamily (DCU) BAMF Alfred Pennyworth I don't write slash or incest fanfiction so if that's your thing this is not for you alternate Universe - Time Travel possession mild Language implied Sexual Content Dark Character Implied/Referenced Character Death BAMF Cassandra Cain

Summary:

Tim and Cass must journey into the past to save the future. The rest of their family must battle a present evil that seeks to destroy everything. They all learn there is much more to their lives than they ever imagined.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Jamie and Keeley fell back in love with each other on Keeley’s doorstep in 3x08. In this essay, I will—

Ah. You know what? I will, actually.

Ahem. Ever since Jamie came back to Richmond, him and Keeley have had an amicable and mutually affectionate relationship (always greeting one another, etc), but I don’t think there’s anything to suggest that they spend a lot of time together socially after Jamie’s return. Then there’s the funeral business and the fallout of that and the next time we see them interact it’s a whole new season, and given the slight awkwardness of otherwise fond encounter, I’d argue it’s likely the first time (or at least one of the relatively few times) they’ve talked in a bit. Not because they’ve been avoiding each other as such, but I imagine things got a little bit weird after Jamie’s profession of love. Once that was somewhat sorted (and in my heart I imagine some small conversation between them after Jamie and Roy have it all out, Keeley getting in touch like “I hear you apologized to Roy”) it’s the off-season, so there’s few chances of them bumping into each other at Nelson Road – and I do think that maybe Jamie was keen to maintain a respectful distance for a while, just to make it very clear that he’s not trying to woo her. As for Keeley, she was busy with her new company, so yeah, for all of those reasons, they didn’t see much of each other. Don’t really for two thirds of season 3 either.

But they never stop being fond of each other, yeah? They never stop caring. They’re just both all up in their own lives, Keeley with KJPR and her heartbreak and later her girlfriend, and Jamie with striving to be the best player and the best person he can be, the Zava of it all, and Roy. We know Keeley takes note of the changes in Jamie, but she’s got other priorities.

Then: the leak, and Jamie showing up on her doorstep, and the hug. And yes, of course it’s nothing but a headcanon, but to me that marks the moment when that old spark is quietly but undeniably rekindled.  

It’s pretty obvious in Jamie’s case. We know he never stopped loving Keeley: he accepted that their future was friendship and he focused on other things, but he never stopped loving her. And once he stood there, holding her, held by her, enveloped in her kindness and affection and with that familiar press of her body against his, her scent, everything he felt for her roared right back into full and flaming life: it’s not only loving her, it’s being in love with her. It’s arguably this (and the belief that her and Roy are well and truly over) that leads to him putting the moves on in 3x12.

For Keeley, I think it’s a bit more muted – more a realization of ‘I really like who this person has become and I’m so proud of how he’s grown and I could see something between us again’. (Also, holding him, being held. It’s Pavlovian.) It’s not really something she particularly plans to act on: she’s still reeling from the video leak and the Jack of it all, and she’s busy with her company. Still, it’s there.

For both of them, it’s there. Not grand or sweeping or all-consuming, not something that must lead to anything, but… Jamie and Keeley fell back in love with each other on that doorstep, and even if that doesn’t necessarily mean that things immediately or ever turn romantic between them again, they slowly but surely start hanging out properly again after that, just because they’ve been reminded of how much they truly like each other. How glad they are of one another. (Which does not in any way lessen or change the love they both have for Roy, by the way. The heart has infinite room.)