#putting this in my back pocket for a rainy day

[anonspiceart]

Just wanted to say that I love your art it's so cool <3

Thank you!!

[mysindividual]

Unknowingly, hers | Aaron Hotchner

MASTERLIST

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem liaison reader

summary: A rainy night in a bar, an undercover task, coquetting with your boss — what else could you wish for? After days of trying to catch the murderer, and one stagnant investigation without any solid leads, the team ultimately uncovers how their unsub targets his victims. You could only think of one strategy: set up an ambush. An ambush that put you and your supervisor in an uncomfortable position, leading in the need to engage in flirtatious interactions.

warning: boss x subordinate, age gap, MUTUAL PINING, pre-established rship, mentions of alcohol, rape, killing.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story!

Aaron Hotchner was not a man who would allow himself to be distracted from a task, much less a man who enjoyed sitting and sipping beer in some smoky bar, flirting with women — even if it was just for show. His work always came first — that was why he agreed on this charade. He was devoted to work more than his own self, always his number one priority, and his now ex-wife could attest. So knowing that fact and knowing himself, there was absolutely nothing that could distract him from work. Or there ought not to be. So what had changed now?

In his line of work distractions were never good. They could be, what one would say, fatal.

Chilly droplets of dew trickled from the glass surface, down into his pocket where he tightly grasped the bottle, giving him the sensation that it was his own cold sweat running down his temples.

He might not have even noticed it was getting overly hot until the moment you sat down beside him. About to ask you for a drink, his what was supposed to be a flitting gaze paused on you and in that agonizing moment he watched as you took off your jacket and draped it over the back of a chair, leaving you in a red t-shirt and jeans that hugged you around your waist and hips.

The taste of his cold beverage was not enough to quench the fire in his throat.

What on earth was the matter with him!

He swallowed, his eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Irritated by the mere idea, with a frown on his face as dark as the weather outside, he looked back at the bottle he was holding. Why was he staring? Why was he even thinking about it? He needed to focus. You were embarking on a mission that held importance for the whole team. The case was put on hold due to a lack of information and leads for days, weeks. Until two days ago when you showed up in his office, with newspaper in your hands and sugary crystals glued to your lips — why did he remember that? — and finally provided him with the first solid lead in a long time. Concluding this case meant a sense of relief and a good night's rest for the team.

God, he didn't even notice or hear when the bartender approached. Or when in the midst the cacophony of noise you ordered your drink, then how could he carry out this task?

He stole a side-glance at you, only then wishing he didn’t.

There was something almost hypnotic about the way your fingers tenderly curled around the glass and brought it up, pressing to your lips. Despite the surrounding and background noise that busted around the bar — clink of bottles, soft music playing, the hum of conversation, the men cheering for their football team playing on the TV — Hotch found himself able to discern the sound of that shot sliding down your throat in a slow motion, just momentarily tingling beneath the sensitive skin on your neck.

While you were not paying attention, he allowed his gaze to move from your face, down the skin of your neck and arm, to the glass held in your fingers, then finally settling on your lips.

“Just one." You made two promises there.

You promised the first time, setting your glass down on the bar counter once you felt his glance on you, disapproving your way of handling. However, much to your shock, he remained silent.

Just one. You promised the second time — but this time to yourself — once you caught a glimpse from the corner of your eye that he was giving you one of those looks that initially shook the earth beneath your feet and then stabilised you.

Just one because one was needed to put you in a right mood — the ideal ambiance in a corner of your mind, not as distant as one might assume. Just one because you were scared to risk how’d you behave yourself in his presence in this atmosphere.

And he let you take just one because he knew the two drinks did the charm for you.

One was absolutely harmless.

Two… made you into a fiddler.

2 days ago

"Advertisement?" He paused in the middle of flipping a page in his file, glancing at you skeptically from beneath his dark eyebrows, weighing the possible veracity behind your words. Then, you watched as his gaze dropped to your lips only then being hyper-aware of how you’d left your office.

You found yourself muttering an apology, glancing sideways, your fingertips ever-so-slightly brushing the sticky sugar away. And offered, "Take a look."

Minutes ago, inside the privacy of your office, surrounded by 4 walls, you were enjoying your lunch break.

To be quite frank, it was not how you typically chose to spend your time off. You would be out or in the cafeteria with the rest of your team, but the situation in the last few days was a little different. Venturing outside — past your office — provided a great opportunity to run into your boss, which you’d been attempting to steer clear of recently. And so you were sitting in the comfort of your chair, your legs crossed on the table, a doughnut in one and the newspaper in the other hand.

Rising fuel prices.

California wildfires.

British police find car bombs in London.

You found it impossible to continue reading. The purpose of a lunch break was a time-out from work. So you flipped through a couple of pages to reach the back section of the newspaper where the advertisements were located. You’d been wanting for quite some time now to find yourself another car. And so, you skimmed through some advertisements, while others you carefully read, until one finally caught your attention.

It was one of the less prominent ads, and the yellow letters and caption were the one that allured you every time. Every 4th of a month.

Find love! Find gay friends! Find you! FIND OUT! If you are looking to find more about sex, love, or relationship with other guys — congratulations! You've just found it!

You sat upright in the chair, the heels of your boots echoing off the tile floor. With the doughnut firmly gripped between your teeth, you held the newspaper with both hands now and brought it closer to your eyes.

An ultimate guide on how gay men get guys.

"Oh, God!" You exclaimed, hastily taking the doughnut out of your mouth and putting it back in the box on the desk, grabbing the newspaper and making your way to Hotch’s office.

“That has to be it.” Leaning back deep in his chair, Derek played with the pencil in his hands. "We have already analyzed and investigated into all the rational methods that the unsub could’ve used to reach the victims.”

"Absolutely." Garcia added and hurriedly continued speaking in a barely understandable manner, as if reluctant she might acknowledge her mistake. "I checked everything: their online activities, credit cards, surveillance footage... Nothing."

"We know that none of these victims used online-blind-dating sites, or whatever. We know they've never set foot in a gay bar before. So how did the killer get to them? Their family and friends never suspected, let alone knew, that they were gay." Rossi explained. "The victims themselves weren't aware of their homosexuality.”

“And this ad right here…” You unfolded your arms and leaned forward on the desk, glancing at Hotch briefly before focusing down where your finger tapped the new, textured paper. "It provides exactly that. To find themselves from within. This has to be it.”

“We also know the profile." Hotch finally replied, not taking his eyes off you. "I want you to find all the previous newspapers in which these ads can be found. The meetings’ location, time and place, must be announced somewhere in there. There’s a possibility the messages will be encrypted, so take Reid with you. And Garcia…” You nodded in agreement, and he stared at you for a minute longer before shifting his focus to Garcia, who stood behind you, picking at her nails. “Find everything you can about this ad and how the victims were able to contact the advertiser."

The murder seemed linked to the ad, and Hotch’s instincts were usually accurate because they were not mere guesses, but predictions based on numerous factors, all considered in light of his experience.

Gathering all the needed information, the team agreed on the strategy.

“We need someone inside. Someone who will play a confused young man, curious, eager..." Rossi didn't even get a word out, and everyone's gaze — some sneakily, some more openly — were fixed on Reid who was ready to protest but decided otherwise. Arguing with all of you was pointless. Besides, he was the only young man around — he’d remember this and gladly rub it on Derek’s nose.

On the other side of the table, Derek and Emily quickly agreed on teaming up.

"I agree. But if possible, I would like to avoid this long-awaited undercover mission, and be the one to stay behind with Garcia. My stomach still hurts." Waving his hand at his stomach, Rossi grimaced.

“Do you realize we are discussing a man who managed to overpower four men, rape them, and then kill them?" Reid objected.

"Y/L/N and I will join." Hotch said expressionlessly, interlocking his gaze with you just for a second.

Join how? You wondered, your elbow on the armrest, your chin resting on your fist. Garcia stood up, placing documents atop each other, muttering under her breath. "Nothing easier… just be the two of you, but together."

Hotch's eyebrows snapped together, meeting your eyes briefly once again before he looked to the side at Garcia with barely tamed fire in his eyes. "I'm sorry?"

“I- um- sir…” Garcia stuttered and you seized the opportunity to leave the office before Hotch unleashed that smoldering fire on all of you.

Glancing behind your shoulder, Garcia ran after you with a swift pace you'd never seen her take before. Together you both hurried down the stairs and rushed through the glass door, cursing each other before parting ways in the hallway — each heading to your own den.

And that was how you got here.

“So… A gay man in a straight people’s bars.” You finally spoke, trying to sound casual even though this meeting wasn’t. “Finds his victims who are also gay and kills them the same night. At first glance it doesn’t make much sense.”

“Without knowing what we know — it doesn’t.” Hotch replied, then took a sip from his bottle. The victims had never before crossed the threshold of the bars in which they met with the unsub. The unsub found them the same night, and then killed them. “But it was a smart move to throw the cops off to a wrong path.”

“Definitely.” You agreed. “In this modern digitalized world who’d even bother to check the newspapers.”

When he didn’t say anything in return, you sighed, leaning towards the bar, pushing the empty glass away.

"You two look like a date gone wrong." Even with the music playing, Derek's amused voice could be heard loud and clear through the small earbud piece. You leaned back slightly to catch sight of Derek and Emily dancing lavishly together.

“Like every date Y/N goes to.” Emily added, smirking at you.

That earned them a reproachful look from their boss.

Nice, now your boss knew how lame your dating life was.

But nonetheless, you laughed, and the warmth of your laughter enveloped Hotch's heart. Looking back at you, he softened and watched as you swirled the ice cubes in your fresh Coke with a small red straw. Then bringing the straw up to your lips, you took a sip. Now it was his jaw that clenched.

“Incorrect…” you playfully remarked, your eyes sparkled as you held his gaze determinedly over the rim of your glass, and that victorious grin on your face transitioned into something affectionate, something intimate. “This one takes the cake."

“Sir! I told you gotta act!”

"Garcia." Aaron warned.

“I can multitask, sir.” She quickly added, with a hint of reverence. “I have a reputation I intend to keep. So no, no developments as of now."

"Could he possibly know we've found out?" You asked.

"I doubt it."

While talking, Aaron usually had the tendency to look around the room, examine the faces and look for any signs of trouble. The bar had an overall sense of amusement, with sporadic bursts of loud chatter and individuals savoring drinks such as beer, neat whiskey, or some mixed drinks and sodas with straws. Couples, friends, loners — everyone was busy either drinking, dancing, or... kissing.

His hand trembled, holding onto the beer tightly as he brought it to his mouth and chugged, grimacing. "What happened with Brad?" He finally asked, taking you aback just a little.

It’d been a few days since that conversation with him about Brad, and it had quite bothered you that he hadn’t asked you anything about your final decision.

"Who is Brad?" You chuckled, your head dropping slightly before looking up at him again, a warm smile forming on your lips that... It stole something from him, something he couldn’t express crisply enough. In this very casual manner, you appeared …beautiful while brushing back the hair that skimmed your cheeks.

He frowned, glancing down, collecting his thoughts. At some point along the way you had become a distraction. Pushing that realization aside with a blink, he couldn’t afford to be distracted now. He looked at the beer he was holding like it was an escape — a safe haven from your gaze. He had nearly consumed all of his drink. Hotch had been refraining from alcohol for some time, now it was starting to affect him. He did drink stronger drinks alone in his apartment or at Rossi’s after his divorce, and even then he noticed he couldn’t keep up with it the way his younger self used to. Yeah. It had to be it.

“Well, I suppose it was the right thing to do.”

“Well, in fact it was you who helped me realize. Some mistakes aren’t worth repeating twice. So cheers to that, sir.” You swivelled sideways and towards him, holding your glass up before taking a sip.

Sir. There that came again. It was not that he hated being called ‘sir’, damn, Garcia called him that too many times and the thought never appalled him. He was just not used to hear you call him ‘sir’. It was mainly ‘Hotch’, sometimes even ‘Hotchner’, or if you were being a little tease then you referred to him as ‘boss’.

“Sir!” Garcia’s voice came through, cutting his thoughts in half. “He’s here!”

You shared a knowing glance.

And then suddenly, some guy sauntered in, physically placing himself between you and Hotch. The action was unexpected, quite bold. However, you then realized that to most outsiders, the two of you probably didn't appear to be a couple. In this very bar, couples around you were doing…things, and the two of you hardly spoke at all.

“Hey there sunshine.” He drawled, leaning against the bar, looking down at you. The tall man didn’t mind or acknowledge Hotch at all. He had black lush hair, probably devastatingly blue eyes, in his late 20s – early 30s. Closer to your age than Hotch was anyway, he thought to himself. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Finding yourself in this awkward position, before you could even answer, Hotch cleared his throat. The latter turned around peevishly just enough to give Hotch gray glares, and arching an eyebrow, replied disgusted. "I didn't ask you... pal." And he turned to you again, a jolly smirk on his face.

So Hotch was right. The man had devastatingly blue eyes.

Aaron glanced annoyedly at his beer. If he could have, he'd have smashed that bottle on his head. But decided to go with a more rational option and patted the man’s shoulder.

"It's showtime." Derek's voice sang in the bug.

"She's busy... pal." Your boss countered, his voice low and tinged with warning.

"Doesn't seem so..." He now addressed Hotch over his shoulder, choosing not to let your companion bother him or to take his eyes off of you. “…pal.”

The man’s finger made way under your chin and he tilted your head backwards, hovering over you.

“Oh ‘xcuse me…” You scoffed disapprovingly at the boldness of his action, moving your head away from his touch. Bristled.

The crease between Aaron’s eyebrows deepened further, keenly resolute. He felt the bubbles of anger simmer inside him, waiting for the right sign to explode. He smothered a sigh, steeling himself. If he had been on assignment somewhere on the field — any other, or on a real date with you — he'd have handled the situation in a much different way. Instead, he put his hand on the man's shoulder again, but this time firmly, and pushed him away from you.

"I said..." The baleful timbre of Aaron’s voice carried the same threat evident on his face. He reached out and grabbed the stem of your chair. The tiles beneath creaked as he dragged the chair towards himself, closing the gap between the two of you. Your knees accidentally brushed against his leg and the familiar warm sensation returned to your stomach, causing your pulse to quicken. "She's with me." Something ickered in Aaron’s eyes. You were unsure how to interpret it.

"And what could a woman like her want with a grump like you?" You heard the guy say, stepping towards Hotch, his chest puffed out.

You had to stop it before it escalated.

Deliberately, you inched closer, your gaze meeting Aaron’s. Behind your flashing eyes, he could see both — a permission and an apology for what you were bracing yourself to do.

“It’s okay…” You began gently, swallowing as you placed your hands on Aaron’s knees, stroking his legs. You couldn't look away from your boss's eyes, and as you smiled, subtly wrinkling your nose at him, you could have sworn that the muscles under the denim fabric hardened even more than they had just a moment before. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Being in such proximity, it was impossible to ignore all the things Aaron noticed about you — the depth of your bottomless eyes, shiny lips, the peachy scent of your hair was the only scent worthy in this noisome crowd. He was definitely drunk, a bit tempted. Never had he ever been intoxicated solely by the subtle scent of a shampoo.

"Well, if you wanna have real fun, I'll be sitting over there." He winked at you, pointing somewhere behind you.

You both watched as the man walked away, only then ending the charade. An awkward tension set between you two that made you feel every beat of your wilding heart. In a profound quietness, you both swivelled around and towards the bar. In a deafening silence, both of you, reflected on it without acknowledging that you longed for that intimacy.

“I-…”

“Do you see him?” Hotch spoke over you, back to business. You quickly glanced over your shoulder and back to Aaron, nodding.

“Ok. Good.” He pressed the earpiece with his finger. “Morgan?”

“He’s talking to Reid.” Garcia spoke instead.

“It’s definitely him, Aaron.” Rossi confirmed.

“We have a bit of a situation here.” Both of you looked at where you last saw Emily and Derek. You couldn't get the proper view at the two of them sitting in the booth now, but it looked like a group of women stood beside their desk.

Morgan, you rolled your eyes playfully. And then…

"Wait..." You frowned, and Hotch watched as the gears in your head turned before recognition dawned on your face. You looked up at him. “Isn't that Joseph Moetski?"

Hotch glowered, thinking. The newsdealer. He still hadn’t had a chance to look back and see for himself, but it would make perfect sense. After all, Joseph was a newsagent and the team had known about him —you had worked with him in an occasion or two when you first started working for Hotch. He had the access to all the media: magazines, newspapers, television, and so on.

Aaron drew closer towards you, not wanting to blow your cover away, now his whole body facing you. You felt a dangerous flutter in your heart as you looked at him squarely into eyes, never anticipating what he was about to do. He reached forward to move the hair from your face back over your shoulder and then tucked some behind your ear. His gaze was dark and intent — you could see the concentration in there, maybe even slight tenderness, and it sent your mind in wild directions.

Your hair was very silky and soft under his palm, the focus of his vision shifted from the man who was seated beside Reid a few meters behind, to you.

“Garcia?” His spoke coolly, professionally. But there was nothing professional about the way he was watching you. You ducked your head and gently stroked the skin on your neck, a lively red blossom of color rose up your cheeks, a hesitant smile stretched across your face. It was such a small gesture. And then his big hand rested on the side of your neck, using the opportunity to feel your skin — something he’d never admit to himself. Hoping he couldn’t feel your telltale pulse, you had to remind yourself that he was your very professional never-crossing-a-line boss.

It was a dangerous game to even think about something like this, but you couldn’t help yourself. For years you’d been harbouring feelings for him — platonic or not, and this was not going to help.

“Bingo! It’s him!”

“Sorry to interrupt you, birdies.” A bartender interrupted and you both turned around, almost jumping from your seats. “The politics around here are: you have to order another drink… or get the hell out of here. And as I can see, you drank all of yours.” Crossing her arms on her chest, she asked. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

As Hotch took the chance to order new drinks, anxiety creeped up your back, and you looked back over your shoulder just in time to see Spence holding the back of his head as well as the unsub running toward and past the two of you.

Gripping your gun close under your clothes, you reached out and tugged on Hotch's shirt. “Hotch!” You promptly got to your feet and chased after the suspect.

You heard a chair fall onto the dark tiles of the floor somewhere behind you, disgruntled and angry shouts and remarks from people who were bumbed or knocked down by the man you were running after.

Fortunately, the unsub cleared a way for you, allowing you to quickly catch up with him, grab him and push him. His face met the ground, and hastily you sat on top of him, pushing his hands and securing them on his upper back. But to say you were struggling would be an understatement. The unsub was a strong man, twice your size, so when he managed to free one hand from your grasp it was a no surprise. He attempted to pull you upwards and you sat unsteadily on his back, swaying like you were at a rodeo, a quick "whoa" slipping out of your mouth. Hotch rushed to help you, kicking the unsub’s feet, and without a second thought, his chest pressed against your back as he leaned closely from behind you, his arms wrapped around you as he assisted in restraining the suspect before Emily approached and put the handcuffs on.

The third party — Reid, watching it all unfold in front of his eyes, couldn’t help but smile at you both even through the throbbing pain in his head. You were just like Mulder and Scully. Tangled and messy, unable to see it, yet still fantastic as a team.

Now the only thing left was, he concluded, for you two to realize it finally.

In all that rush and adrenaline kicking in, neither of you did have time to process or relish the way your bodies melded together.

But this whole night was something that would keep you both up tonight and wouldn’t let you get that well-deserved good night’s sleep.

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Imagine Retired!Price who has nothing to do in his new found free time

His team was finally able to convince him to put down the gun and rest. He's done more than enough for others.

But after years of constant movement and missions he isn't comfortable with sitting in one place.

He starts to go on long walk in the afternoon to fill his time

Mostly people watching or checking out the local businesses.

One night as chilly afternoon turns into a cold evening he finds himself wondering into retro diner all lit up by neon lights.

He finds a booth and takes a look around at the polished but dated looking restaurant.

it brought him a feeling of comfort he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Hello sir, can I get you a drink to start?" A sweet voice chirps

He turn to meet your sunny smile all dressed up in a baby pink button up dress, waist cinched with a mini apron. Hair pulled back with a matching bow.

"Hello..." John looks down to your name tag. "Bunny?"

"Oh" you laugh, "It's just a nickname. The old timers think it's cute"

"What does that say about me, then?"

"You don't look too old to me."

"Let me get a coffee, bunny"

From that point on John made sure to come by the diner every night.

Rain, sleet, or shine you could bet he would be there.

You weren't there every night of course but it thrilled him to think of the possibility of seeing you again.

Always greeting him with a, "Hey stranger" or "You come here often?"

Always dressed in that little faded pink dress.

Your conversation started to take up more of your shift as time went on.

Evolving from cordial to friendly and occasionally flirty.

"Bunny, what does your boyfriend think of you working all the time?"

"I don't have a boyfriend, John"

"Then what do you do all day when you're not here?"

"Waiting for you to ask me on a date"

Then you both laugh but John knows his time will come and he's a patient man.

He was always a generous tipper, even before the flirting

He loved to watch you run around the place, espically when it was busy.

You handled yourself well under pressure. Never letting a difficult customer get under your skin.

He love to way you look after a long shift with your hair slightly tousled with a pen or two stuck somewhere in your hair or behind your ear.

He'll stack his empty plates up nicely to make it easier for you to pick up.

Pushing them to the edge of the table signaling to you he was finished up.

He made sure they were steady too, especially so after one unlucky afternoon that had you sweeping up the shards of glass under his table with an embarassed blush warming your cheeks.

But seeing you on your knees sweeping up your mess made unpure thoughts flood his mind.

He began thinking about what you wear outside of work.

What you wear when you go out.

What you look like when you don't wear anything at all.

Then one rainy afternoon, John blows in to find his usual booth vacant and waits patiently for your typical sweet greeting.

Instead you rush over and drop his coffee on the table with a thud causing tiny brown droplets to splatter over the thick rim of the diner mug.

"What's crawled up your skirt, little rabbit?" John chuckles.

You frown down at him, pulling your notebook and a pen from your apron pocket. "I'm not in the mood today. What do you want to eat?"

"I know I was a little late but, the it's pouring outside. Don't be upset with me, bunny" He says, refusing to drop his joking tone.

"John" You snip.

He likes the way you say his name when you're angry.

"What's wrong?" He looks up at you with sincerity and you finally drop your arms and sigh.

"It's been a hard day. My boss is just being a total tool. The other waitresses are shit and no one is tipping well. Don't say anything but, I think I'm gonna put in my two weeks" You're words tumble from you in a rush.

"You're going to quit?"

"I can't keep working like this. I hardly make enough for rent and I still have no time to myself," You take a breath and shake your head. "Sorry, I shouldn't talk about money stuff with you. You're just here for dinner."

"Let me help you,"

"No, I don't need help. I'm fine, just a little overworked. I shouldn't have brought it up. Forget it."

"Let me take care of you"

You laugh but he does not.

"Come live with me, you'll never have to work again."

"Okay stop now, this isn't funny."

"Do you see me laughing?"

"You don't even know my real name"

"Aren't you tired? You're far too pretty to be so stressed. This job will always be here if you change your mind. I don't think you will though."

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

A/N: This turned out longer than anticipated but hope you enjoy. I just want a Price to sweep me off my feet and make me a house wife :'-)

ﾒ𝟶

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[nottswitch]

— dreaming about… autumns with theo 🍂

» navigation ; masterlist ; theo m.list ; how to request

༉‧₊˚. chilly but still sunny september days, when you go out for a walk around the courtyard, your hand intertwined with theo’s and safely tucked into the pocket of his jacket. cozy cashmere sweaters that you start stealing from him as soon as you arrive to hogwarts, before he could even unpack his trunk. spending time at the lake, you cuddled up against theo’s chest on the bench, him pressing soft kisses to the top of your head from time to time. the stereotypical ‘throwing autumn leaves into the air’ scene, except he stands there smoking and suddenly, a pile of leaves is blowing up above him. he’s dumbfounded, but then you giggle and he grumbles about the leaves being dirty and dusty while trying to hide an amused smile.

༉‧₊˚. gloomy and cold october days, when every weekend is a trip to hogsmeade, to hide from the weather in coffee shops (and simply shops, bc theo knows you definitely need a new matching scarf and hat set). sitting on a soft couch next to the window, wrapped up in theo’s arms, sipping coffee and laughing when he kisses off the foam stuck to your lips. sneaking in a flask of firewhiskey to put into your drinks and warm up even further. taking a paper bag worth of pastries back to your dorm, because you absolutely need a stash. theo draping his scarf around your neck at the smallest shiver he notices. he also gives you his coat and doesn’t accept any objections, stubbornly shivering himself while you scold him and urge the both of you to the castle. matching halloween costumes that steal the show during the ball, because you enjoy it, and theo would do anything for his lovely girl.

༉‧₊˚. dark and rainy november days that you mostly spend cuddled up in either his dorm or yours. the endless rain rattles against the window, the raindrops trickling paths down the glass and clouding the view. you’re in bed, your limbs tangled together, hiding under warm blankets. you just spending time in each other’s presence, doing homework or reading, feeling calm and content. theo playing guitar just for you in his dorm while you sit in front of the fireplace, the faint crackling of the wood mixing with guitar strings, pliant under his skillful fingers. theo coming back from quidditch practice, sliding under the sheets and wrapping his ice cold limbs all around you. you squeal when his freezing feet touch your warm ones, but he only chuckles and nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing in your comforting scent. taking baths together, testing out new bath bombs and salts that theo got you (he secretly enjoys it and keeps a bottle of your favourite foam in his dorm). you putting up string lights in theo’s dorm and him pretending to be annoyed but turning them on whenever he’s alone, to be reminded of your presence.

bonus: playlist

❥ willow by taylor swift

❥ lost on you by lp

❥ small hands by keaton henson

❥ my love mine all mine by mitski

❥ falling behind by laufey

❥ sono aggrappata a te by angelina mango

❥ golden by zayn

[bahrtofane]

soapy oh soapy

jude looses his lucky charm and looses his mind in the process

word count - 1.5K+

watch it - HAPPY ARPIL FOOLS. the most unserious fic to date ( jk theres one more coming )

p.s. -big shout out to my friends @aloejuicebr for fueling this madness u guys are real ones and even bigger shout to plooki @yayam26 for making soapy missing poster

-----

You end up forcing jude to do skin care with you after begging him for weeks because you just know you can work your magic and make him feel the best he’s ever felt. All you need is a night in. And time. Lots of time 

After some persuasion and begging, pouty lips and puppy eyes, he gives in. 

“Fine.” is all he says while you’re in his living room, legs over his watching a movie that you've long ignored in favor of bothering him. 

But you’re already giggling. Picking out a headband you want him to wear in your head. Pink care bear one it is. The night comes on a rainy day, he has a rare day off the next morning, so you want him to start it on a good note. 

You’re getting ready for bed, in your pjs, jumping about while you get your little baggie full of goodies out. 

“Here,” you hand him the headband,” put this on” pink care bear one just like you envisioned. 

He takes it, feeling the soft material while he hums, “what’s this for?”

“Keeps things out of your hair.” you smile, dragging him to his bathroom. You take about a hundred pictures, and he poses for you for each one. Giggling while you coach him into poses. You think you'll send a few to Jobe for good measure. 

You face the sink and think of a game plan. Eyeing the counter  

It’s here you first lay eyes on soapy. 

“Jude what the hell is that? "You grimace, looking at what looks like a dry stump of white something, sitting on its own little ceramic dish. 

Jude looks away, scratching the back of his neck, mumbling something under his breath. 

You swing your little kit on the sink counter, setting a hand on your hip,”what was that?” 

He sighs dramatically, putting his face in his hands,”it’s my good luck charm. soapy,” he wails. 

You snort, patting his back, “I'm sure he’s very uh lucky,” you give it a small pat. 

“No he is,” Jude brings his head up to face you, “ I know it. I've had him since before dortmund. “ he nods proudly. 

You grimace,”you’ve had a piece of soap for years?”

He only nods harder. 

“Okay jude. Whatever you say. “ 

“I am not getting rid of him,” he points a finger in your face. One that you gently move, pulling his hand into your own. 

“I didn't say get rid of him. Let’s get your skincare started, yeah?”

He nods, following you through the steps like a lost puppy. leaning down while you help him apply the creams and foams just right 

When it’s all set and done, he wiggles into bed happy as can be. Sighing deeply, “that was actually really nice. Thank you. “ 

peck! right on your nose. 

you laugh, “told you it would be nice. “ 

your next plan is to find a way to deal with soapy…

——-

Jude loses soapy. It becomes a whole fiasco. He can’t find him in the usual small little pocket in his duffel bag in the usual ziplock baggie. 

He’s frantic at his hotel, tearing his things apart, looking and relooking at the bottom of his suitcase. His jacket pockets, his pants pockets. 

He tries to think. Did he leave him in his bathroom? No. Can't be it. He remembers putting him inside the familiar zip lock baggie while getting the rest of his things ready. Where in the world did he go. 

His soapy. His poor soapy! How is he supposed to live in these conditions. He’s never. ever missed a single game without soapy. What is he supposed to do now? Loose?? There goes his good luck down the drain. Years of good performance is about to take a nosedive. 

When he’s set to do his routine face time with you pre game, you pick up on his sour mood. But he only brushes it off, blaming it on pre game nerves 

You don’t believe him, but don’t want to press

Jude pends 20 minutes locked inside the bathroom, head in his hands while he scolds himself. It’s a bar of soap he wants to scream, pull yourself together. But he can’t. Soapy has become more than just a silly little joke. He’s become attached to soapy, a part of his routine. He’d rather die than admit it out loud to anyone 

For now he sighs, smoothing his jersey down and getting ready to get on the pitch. 

——-

The only thing that’s been in his mind is getting back home and getting to the bottom of the mystery. Unfortunately for him, soapy is nowhere to be found in the bathroom. Not in the living room. The kitchen. The hallway. He thinks of hiring a cleaning team, but what is he supposed to say ? 

Oh hey guys clean my house and also be on the lookout for a dried out stick of white that looks like a finger haha. 

No. Absolutely not. 

He takes to his own devices and begins to tear apart his house in a desperate search for his beloved soapy. He spends the whole day on his hands and knees looking under places he didn’t even know his house had to begin with, squeezing under and into spaces he’s sure gonna regret tomorrow. 

It’s already dark out when he calls it quits. Nothing but a few bruises to show for it. 

He’s really lost him huh. 

——-

His behavior is soon picked up by teammates, coaches and staff. The usual cheery youthful Jude is replaced by a damp sluggish cranky one.

He’s silent at training, chewing the inside of his cheek while going through the familiar motions of each drill. 

Eduardo comes to him after they hit the showers, squeaky clean and ready to go home. 

“You good?”

Jude gives him a bashful nod, “yeah man. just a little worn out, don't worry.”

He gets a clap on the shoulder in response, and gives a tight lipped smile back. He’s gotta figure this out or it will start to affect more than just his mood. How stupid of him to let an old slice of a soap bar affect him so much. 

A little piece of him can guess why. Soapy is one of the very few stable things in his life. And perhaps the only stable physical thing. something to count on. Something to be able to rely on. Unchanging. 

But now that he’s gone and lost it ? jeez. 

——-

You show up to his house on a cloudy day, his favorite snacks under your arm. He greets you with a kiss, but you see the way his eyes droop and sag. What's wrong with your golden boy? 

He leads you to the living room where you make yourself at home. Plopping down on the couch and handing him his things. 

He takes them gingerly, setting them on the kitchen counter while he takes a seat across from you 

you frown, “Jude. What's wrong? “

He looks away, playing with his hands, knee bouncing. Okay what is going on that’s gotten him so worked up

“Baby…” you try, scooting closer to him. 

He screws his eyes shut, bawling his hands into fists, “I lost soapy,” 

oh. 

Your gaze softens, “You lost him? When?”

He sighs, cracking an eye open, when he sees you aren’t making fun of him he opens both, relaxing. 

“I don't know. when we played villareal away I couldn’t find him. Then i got back and tore this place up and still no luck.” arms falling into his lap. 

You place a hand on his knee. Gentle. Soft. 

“He couldn't have gotten far. I'm sure he’s somewhere obvious. “ 

“I guess,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch. 

You smile, letting him lean against you. He's so cute when he pouts. You like babying him anyway. The rest of the day is spent with his head in your lap while you press occasional kisses to his face, letting keeping up with the kardashians play in the background. 

When it’s time for you to leave, Jude whines, pouting and asking you to stay just a little more.

“It's already late jude, I would if I could you know that. “

He huffs, “I guess. “ 

You forgot about your bags laying on the kitchen counter, might as well put them away before you go. 

Jude gets up to help, sliding against the hardwood and meeting you in the kitchen

He grabs a chair from the island in the middle, bringing it to him and a little baggie falls from it. Is that what he thinks it is ? He picks it up faster than you can turn around and almost screams. He could cry tears of joy 

It’s soapy. 

You were right. It was right in front of him all along 

He holds up the bar for you to see and you smile, “see. told you. “

He nods, “yes you did,” kissing your lips as a thank you 

You hum, patting his head when you pull apart, “glad you found soapy.” 

Maybe soapy isn’t so bad after all. 

[coriihanniee]

Guess WHO! - boynextdoor smau

𓂃۶ৎ SYNOPSIS : When multiple leaked photos ignite a wildfire of speculation, the world is certain—BOYNEXTDOOR'S Y/N is secretly dating one of the members. But who? No one knows, and you refuse to clear the air. Instead, you turn the chaos into a game, scattering cryptic clues and half-truths while every member plays along, deepening the mystery. Every glance, every post, every moment is a riddle waiting to be solved. Is the answer hidden in plain sight, or are you leading everyone in circles? How far can a secret stretch before it unravels? And when it does—will anyone be ready for the truth?

CHAPTER 17 : rainy situation

"You know, I’m starting to think you rig these bets," Taesan grumbles, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.

"You’re just mad because you have bad luck," you retort, shooting him a smug grin. "And honestly? It’s hilarious."

You’re walking back after a long day of filming—the scavenger hunt predictably chaotic. From tripping over random props to getting chased by a very aggressive duck, the day had been one long reel of your personal entertainment at Taesan’s expense.

"You owe me, like, five coffee runs for this," Taesan continues, kicking a pebble along the path. "I lost my dignity and half my sanity."

"I’m keeping track," you say sweetly, tapping your phone screen like you’re really writing it down.

The park is quieter now, most of the staff already gone. The sky overhead is turning an ominous shade of gray, but you barely notice—too busy laughing at the memory of Taesan’s failed attempt to complete a challenge involving rubber chickens and a balance board.

"You were really bad at that," you tease.

"Bold talk from someone who face-planted into a bush," he fires back, shooting you a sideways glance.

"You pushed me!"

"It was a motivational nudge," Taesan corrects, like that makes it better.

A sudden coolness brushes against your cheek. One drop. Then another.

"Uh…" You slow your pace, looking up just as the drizzle thickens into a steady rain. "Did you—?"

"No, I didn’t check the weather," Taesan cuts in, already sounding exasperated.

"You are literally the worst," you groan, tugging your hoodie up. "You’re supposed to be the responsible one."

"Me? Since when?" He snorts. "I thought that was Sungho’s whole thing."

The rain comes down harder, soaking through your clothes as the temperature drops.

"You seriously didn’t bring an umbrella?" you ask, glaring at him like this is somehow his fault.

"Do I look like a walking weather app?"

"You look like someone who’d lose a fight with a traffic cone."

"Bold words for someone who tripped over a plastic duck today," he shoots back, unimpressed.

Without a word, Taesan shrugs off his oversized jacket and throws it over both your heads like a makeshift umbrella.

"What are you—?"

"Saving your ungrateful ass from pneumonia," he says, deadpan, adjusting the jacket so it covers you better.

The scent of his cologne—clean and faintly sweet—fills the space between you, mingling with the rain. It’s warm under the fabric, even as water drips from his hair and onto his neck.

"You’re gonna freeze," you point out, side-eyeing his now-soaked t-shirt.

"I’m built different," he says, deadpan.

"You’re built stupid," you mutter, but you don’t move away.

The rain falls harder, but under the jacket, it’s at least a little less miserable. Your shoes squelch against the pavement as you walk, the park feeling unusually quiet without the usual chaos.

"You know," you muse, "the fans would lose their minds if they saw this."

Taesan snorts. "Please, they already think Leehan's my life partner. This wouldn’t even crack the top ten weird things I’ve done."

You laugh. "Yeah, fair. You guys do give off ‘married couple’ energy sometimes."

He pretends to shudder. "Don’t put that image in my head."

"You started it."

"You’re impossible," he grumbles, but there’s no real bite to it.

A gust of wind tugs at the jacket, and Taesan shifts closer to keep it from slipping. For a second, his hand brushes yours—warm and steady—but you shove your hands into your hoodie pocket like it never happened.

"You think ducks get cold when it rains?" you ask, because it’s better than acknowledging… whatever that was.

Taesan snorts, shaking his head. "I mean, I’d hope they’re better at handling it than us."

"Yeah, but still, they’re probably just running around thinking, ‘Why is this happening to me?’" You laugh softly, imagining it.

He lets out a small laugh. "Exactly. Poor ducks. No one ever thinks about their feelings."

You glance at him, the faintest of smiles tugging at your lips. "No one’s ever thought about ducks before. We should start a campaign. Ducks deserve more recognition."

Taesan looks at you, eyes glinting with amusement. "You’d be the one to do it. I’d support it, though."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Ducks have to start somewhere. You’d be surprised how far a little support can go."

By the time you reach the van, you’re both drenched—hair dripping, clothes clinging uncomfortably to your skin.

"You look like a wet dog," you say, shaking out your sleeves as you climb in.

"And you look like a drowned rat," he fires back, leaning against the headrest with a tired smile.

As the van pulls away, the rain blurs against the windows, turning the outside world into a soft, gray haze.

For a moment, you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye—head leaned back, eyes half-closed, the usual sharpness in his expression softened by exhaustion. Just Taesan, warm and close(and noisy...and annoying).

previous masterlist next

@coriihanniee 💌

taglist : @lvlyhiyyih @supi-wupi @tinyelfperson @heeheesang @molensworld @opheliaas-stuff @taesanfav @bbyinni @minfolio @mbella607 @cinnamonshuaa @defnotsanni @amarecerasus @enaile23 @nujeskz @janjoonty @imhereonlytoreadxoxo @pumpkg @cosmicwintr @mimimimiaa @hanniehq

[ray-jaykub]

Climbing Floors to Purple Light

This is a little brain worm I've had, for who knows how long, and I finally got it out. I know there isn't much interaction between reader and Donnie but I'm gonna be honest the point of this fic was to give you guys a reader who has the chance to fight for herself. Domestic violence is a rampant and killing oppression that many people face. Some do not have the strength to leave their situations, some may not even know they're in situations to begin with, and some do die. I come from a childhood filled with domestic violence and child abuse, and many years I had laid awake watching out that trailer window not knowing that what I was going through was wrong but knowing I never wanted it for myself. Sadly, that doesn't make me immune to falling into the cycle my mother and grandmother had, we are all at the potential of falling into harmful relationships. Stay aware, stay safe, and stay open to help. You are not alone

Tw: domestic violence, crude language, ugly men, ominous ending for ex

It's a little bit of a rainy night here in New York, drizzling against your umbrella as you walk back to your apartment with a pep in your step. The guy's and April had made the plan to have a fun game night to start off the weekend, and afterward, the guys would head out to do their usual rounds. Hanging with them was always the best, Mikey had a habit of making whatever drink you have coming out your nose with his jokes, but you were more excited about one brother specifically.

You and Donatello had been going steady for… 6 months? You struggled to remember, but he could tell you the exact days, minutes, and hours. He was a total upgrade from your last relationship, kind and attentive, patient, and forgiving. April claimed this should be considered the norm, but your bar had been set kinda, maybe super, low. But that just made everything better in your eyes! And yeah, sometimes when he was nose deep in some business, you can get kind of lonely. But you can't even dwell on it long before he door dashes a treat to your apartment or sends you plans for a date that he'd rolled in his brain for the past couple hours.

Just thinking about him makes you smile, and quickly, you pull your phone out, shooting a quick text to him that you're about to be inside the building. Maybe you were moving too fast with him, falling in so deep, sharing parts of yourself with him that you probably wouldn't have done with any other guy. Yet, it all felt so right.

There was one part you had not shared with him, though.It hadn't helped that your last relationship was so…mean. Being hit hurt more than it looked on TV, and a long time ago, you had convinced yourself that a part of you deserved it. The hair pulling and kicking your knees, gripping you till there were big purple splotches. You lost friends, somehow didn't lose your job, and at this point could feel the look of pity from miles away. Being handed brochures on how to leave dangerous situations by supporting groups or defacs workers and being asked if there was trouble at home by worrying grannies. You would persist that it was fine, would throw away the pamphlets or guiltily shove them in an old coat pocket in the back of your closet.It had taken being beaten down on the bathroom floor just because of how you were "looking at him" to finally realize it'd be best getting out of there. That resulted in a restraining order and moving in with April, which led to meeting the turtles and led to meeting someone who made you so happy. It was the best choice you had made in a long time. It's been nearly 2 years since then, he felt like a distant memory behind you.

You're quick to put your card key to the door panel and swing it open, shoes clicking onto the linoleum when you get in. The elevator was straight across from the main door. All you had to do was get in, and you'd be a hallway away from your apartment. Pressing the button, you wait, watching the numbers above the door dwindle down as they come to the lobby and ding open. Stepping in, the overhead light is dim, having not been changed in who knows how long, and the buttons are worn, but you know which is yours.

You expect the doors to shut, but a hand shoots out and stops them, and in a dark hood and a ball cap, your ex's face pops up.

"Y/n?" He's not even waiting before he wedges himself in through the barely opened doors. Your stomach drops, and a heavy weight makes you nauseous as your tongue feels cemented to the top of your mouth. He's standing on the opposite side of the elevator, at least, but you're thumbing your phone in your pocket. "Hope you don't mind, I followed behind you when you opened the door."

What?

Had you been so careless not to notice him right there??

"You were behind me?" It comes out as even as you can make it, a little breathless from anxiety. He nods like it's the most casual thing in the world, and the elevator doors are sliding shut. Like the heavy gates to some cage, they squeak, and your center of gravity feels off as it lifts."Yeah," He shuffles a bit, hands in his pockets. "I had to wait for you at work and everything to figure out where you were staying. You're pretty hard to find." He double takes when you do, noticing your panicked state and defensively raises his hands. "But it was just so I could talk to you! I really wanna work things out babe…"

"I don't!" Your voice cracks, and he looks stunned, so you gulp a breath down and speak again. "We are done. We have been done, I don't know why, why you at all thought it was okay to come find me li-" He's coming towards you and it makes you flinch, shoulders pressed into the corner of this suddenly very too tiny elevator. He doesn't touch you, just crowds, body blocking your line of sight from the elevator panel and doors.

"Y/n, liten to me…" You're already shaking your head and trembling hands reach up, leaving your phone in your pocket, just in the hopes to maybe keep space between you both. That makes him sneer. A rough hand tries to knock them away, but you yank away, trying to slide past him. "Y/n!"

"No! I don't want to!" You hate that you're getting panicked so easy. But he had been so cruel the last time you had seen him, had left you there to pick yourself up while he went out without you. You couldn't do it anymore. And now that he's in front of you again, it's like you're a rabbit in the jaw of some hunting dog. Raised and bred by their hunting, neglectful fathers, and sad, pushover mothers to be hateful and harmful to women. A cycle that you had repeated onto you, a flower squashed in some book about war, you can't let it happen again.

You try to turn away from him and pull your phone out but freeze as the elevator stops, the emergency alarm beeping from overhead. "I said listen to me, Y/n."You barely get to turn and see that he had pushed it before knuckles meet your face, and you crumple away from him, phone skidding across the small floor. You feel like you're blabbering as you beg for a second to catch yourself. "Wait, wait, please -"

"I don't know why you're acting like such a major bitch." He's crouching down, grabbing your ankles, trying to drag you to him. "I did a lot for you, I was the reason you even had friends, even got your job." You sober up quickly when you feel yourself coming closer to him, fingers digging into the floor to drag and lift yourself. Those few self-defense lessons Leo had given you wouldn't be for naught.You've gotta get to your phone and get out of here.

—

"Hey, where's Y/n? She was supposed to be here a couple of minutes ago, right?" April wonders, leaning against the counter as she watches the queso dip heat in the microwave. The brothers sit in the living room, watching as Raph indecisively scrolls through what movie they'd play in the background. Mikey is stacking the game boxes ridiculously high in one corner while Leo lazily scrolls on his phone. Donnie is the only one to lean back and answer her, though.

"Yeah, she texted me earlier and said she was close, so I'm assuming it'll be another minute or two." A toilet flushes, and Casey walks out from the hall, adjusting his pants.

"What are we talking about?" He comes into the open kitchen with April snuggling up to her side. "Y/n isn't here yet. Did you wash your hands?" He freezes awkwardly and backs up, sheepishly moving to the kitchen sink.

"Eeew, Case C'mon.""I bet if you ask those four, they're not washing their hands." April's face pinches up, but Donnie snorts. "I don't know, Leo is pretty anal about that kind of stuff."

April can hear Mikey and Raph giggling before they even open their mouths, and she can't help but smile herself. "Okay, you guys are officially nasty!"

Everyone laughs, carefree, and floating out the window.

—

You're panting. This elevator feels like a grave to you, buried under cement and hidden from everyone. Your phone sits, cracked in between you both. Your eye feels like it's throbbing, blood drips down your nose, and you taste it in your mouth. He has scratches on his cheek, and a part of his hair is ugily skewed from being pulled. When he had gotten ahold of your ankles, you had kicked out of them, but he was quick to lunge and slam his fists down on you.

You had done everything you could, kicked your knees up into his stomach, and slid yourself away. You had tried picking your phone up again, hands fumbling, but he knocked it from you. Crowding you again, hands going into your hair and yanking to the point it brings tears to your eyes, you take a hand and slash at him, coming up again to pull his own hair. He had a grip on you, though, shaking you violently by your hair and standing you both up. His other hand punched at your face again with no direction. One hit collided with your eye, directly into the lens. You hear your glasses crack, and the plastic pinches your nose and the soft skin of your eyebrow.

"All you had to do was hear me out!" Spittle hits your face, head whooshing, and you can barely hear him with all this sound. The emergency alarm sounds louder than it had before, thrumming in your ears and flooding your senses. And in slow motion, you're colliding with the wall of the elevator, body slammed against metal. "Why are you so fucking dense! You never learn!"

It's like a sleeper agent coming to life when you hear that phrase. The last thing he had said to you the last time he had seen you, what you had hoped was the last time.

"GET OFF ME!"

With a sudden rush, you're awkwardly hiking up your leg and shooting it straight at his gut. Your work shoes must've hurt because he's stumbling back, hand releasing your hair.

This is what leads to you both standing across from each other. Your phone, in the middle, the button to get the elevator moving beside him, nothing beside you. The choice you had to make, the levels of importance. To get this elevator moving brought you closer to home, to get your phone would let your friends know you needed help.You don't even give him a chance to open his mouth before you're jumping for the elevator panel.

You throw yourself against it, crying out as his arms wrap around you, throwing you down onto the floor. You wilt for a second, thinking you had wasted it as he grabs at your clothes, a seam ripping as he drags you again, but victoriously, the alarm stops and the elevator is in motion once more.

"You bitch!" He's staggering to get up and press it again, the elevator moving throws him off balance. And you, with vindication,kick the back of his knee and watch him stumble nose-first into the railing.

"Siri!" You shout, and the chime rings, cutting the moment of silence, and he's whipping around. The first name that comes out of your mouth, the one you had waited for all day, your purple light in that dark tunnel. "Call Donatello!"

…

"Calling Michelangelo!" Good enough!Your phone is ringing when a punch lands on your ribs. The pain makes your whole torso ache. You still have to fight, to shout, you wouldn't lie down again, and this time you wouldn't be alone picking up pieces of yourself, you were not gonna be left broken. You hear the phone pick up, Mikey's happy 'Sup Gurl!' Murmurs from the phone, and you gasp, gathering the air in this little space…And scream.

—

Things had started getting set up, Leo insisting they pull out a game so when Y/n got here, the ball would be rolling. They're all sitting around the coffee table, clue is set up, and everyone is picking pieces.

"I just don't understand why you won't let me have Mrs. Peacock." Leo fusses, looking sourly at the Reverand Greene pawn he's holding.

"The only reason is because Y/n likes her," Donnie insists and cutely makes Professor Plum and Mrs. Peacock touch faces, his oldest brother stares the action down, unamused. "It'd be unfair to leave her with leftover characters just because she's running a little late."

"Uh huh, sure," Mikey teases, fiddling with his own pawn. "Definitely not because you're thinking that's you two in another life."

"That's not plausible," Donnie snarks, "We're far more compatible than Professor Plum and Mrs. Peacock. We just like these two.

"My Bubblegum by Rasheeda starts up, coming from Mikey's pocket.

"There is no way that's your ringtone!" April giggles, watching as Casey dances in his seat to the music. Mikey is cheesing, glad it's getting recognized.

"Well, duh! It's trending right now," Taking a quick peek at his phone has him sitting up, though. "Uh oh Don, it's your snookums, think she changed her mind on which brother is the best?" He's waggling his brows for show as Donnie rolls his eyes, big hands still pressing Mrs. Peacock and Professor Plum together. Mikey answers the phone on speaker phone and with a quick "Sup Gurl!" And before he can follow up asking where she's at, her scream cuts through the speaker, shrill and frantic.

Everyone is suddenly standing, the air tenses as some man is shouting profanities at her, and dull thuds can be heard.

"Where the hell is she?" Raphael asks, but Donnie is already looking concerned at a screen with a dot flashing on it."She's here." He tries, eyes roving over nothing, trying to think of any spaces there are, but a ding reaches over her struggling, and the dots connect.

"The elevator!" April confirms, having heard the ding every day coming home. It was hard to miss. Leo starts to grab his sheathed katanas, already thinking of how to get access."Alright, we need to find a way to get into the elevator shaft, if we can get the dro- "

He doesn't even get to finish before Donnie is racing right out the front door and into the hallway. His brother's call behind him, warning him of the risk he's taking, but they don't deny following after him, Casey tailing to watch any doors that may open.

He can see before he touches the door that the elevator has reached its floor, but before the doors slide open, there's a thud, and the emergency alarm blares from it again. Donnie gives it no time before he's taking both his hands and wedging his fingers through the elevator door. What would've taken two or three men to open only took him, with barely any strain, and the sight before him makes his vision spotty.

—

That call had been your saving grace. The silence on his end showed you they had understood. The pain is nothing to the relief in that moment, his hand around your neck as the other reaches behind him and slams into the emergency button again. This time, the lights go off, and the strain on the elevator makes the overhead bulbs pop.

You fear the fight you'd have to put up in the dark, weakly kicking your feet, his hand trying to tighten around your neck, but then you hear this loud groan. A sliver of light peaks through where the doors are, and in a sense of urgency, your ex pushes off of you and separates himself. He's already stammering out some excuse as you lie there trying to catch your breath, but whatever he sees has him gasping.

"Wh, what the fuck!" His voice goes up an octave, face drained of color, the scratch marks on his face now starkly red. Your head feels heavy, flat on your back knees still hiked up in defense, you try with the last bit of your strength and turn to see.

Donnie, with the hall lights shining on his back, looks objectively terrifying and threatening. To anyone, he would be considered a monster, but to you, it was, again, that purple light in the dark tunnel.

He doesn't even pay mind to the other person in there with you, crouching down to gently lift you to your knees and beckon over some of his brothers.

"You did so good," He gently murmurs, brushing back your hair and fretting over your broken glasses, taking them off your face and pocketing them. Michelangelo comes behind him, hands reaching to guide you out, but you feel hesitant leaving Donnie, your body still shaking. "I'll handle the rest, Dove. They've got you."

That gentle nudge convinces you to move into Michelangelo's arms, being lifted and carried past a rather calm Leonardo, Raphael, and Casey, who almost look like they're holding post in the hallway. April meets you at her door, rushing Mikey in and racing for her first aid kit. You feel numb, like the energy was sucked from you, but Mikey still fidgets with your clothes, trying to imitate the way Donnie had pet your hair back.

"Don't worry, angel, it's gonna get handled, your ol' Donnie's on it." And all you can do is nod and breathe, the pain slowly growing as that adrenaline and fear fade away. April is coming back with a mess of a box when you see it, beyond the open doorway. An old man is shutting his door.

—

He watches as Michelangelo takes her back down the hall and doesn't turn back until they're both out of sight. He looks at his two older brothers, at Casey, who all nod."Do what you've gotta do." Raphael, ever the one to encourage a fight. But Leonardo looks like he's ready to agree.

He's about to speak, but a door creaks open, the one across from April's, where an old man peeks out to see what the noise is about. He freezes for a second, seeing this scuffed up guy in the elevator, but then he sees Y/n crying, sitting in sight of the doorway of April's apartment, looking worse.It doesn't take a man long to understand what's happening here. He knows Casey and April, knows their good character, and whatever they let happen with these men must be for good reason

."Have a good evening, boys, yeah?" And he shuts the door, doesn't even bother to lock the door, and it's just them again.

That was his cue.

Donnie stands to his full height, looking down at this shaking leaf, and takes a looming step onto the elevator. It creaks a little under his weight, dipping just an inch past being level with the floor, and reverently, Donnie leans over to the panel and turns the emergency alarm off. The Guy must realize what he's trying to do, and scrambles, trying to bolt out, but he's snatched up by Donatello, harshly gagging as the collar of his shirt chokes him. The elevator dings, yet the light doesn't come on, and as the doors are shutting, Donnie brings this guy right to the front of him, peering down. "Let's see if you can last as many floors as she did."

Darkness envelopes both of them.

[tartppola]

mx tartppola do you read twst fanfics,, and if so do you have any good ace fic recs,,

omg... it shames me to say this but... not as much... bcs these days all i read r google translated fics of crowley & the yuulis fics i commission from my mutuals 😭😭😭 IM SORRY GHGHHGG i will!! also i mostly stick to x reader... rarely do i go for canon/canon fics for twst... but !! i'll still give recomendations! of fics i rlly like ( it's all one shots 😭 )

oomf nepotism + writers i think r rlly cool!

@traumxrei-archive

@stormgardenscurse

@spadecentral

@ceruleancattail

@fluffle-writes

tumblr fics i rlly like ( mixed so some headcanons, some oneshots, all x reader )

otome isekai au villainess reader ( ft ♠️ )

encouragement from beyond ( ft ♠️ 🐺 🍎 🐊 )

blanket hog ( ft ♠️)

rainy day ( ft ♠️)

ace doing your makeup

ace and deuce having the same crush ( ft ♠️ )

firsties slipping to a sleepover that fem reader is in ( ft ♠️ 🐺 🍎 🐊 )

pomefiore!ace

basketball club w s/o who eeps on their chest ( ft 🦈 🐍 )

and there was ONE bed 😳

undisclosed passion

ace patching you up

adeuce walking with you ( ft ♠️ )

heartslabyul jealousy headcanons ( ft 🌹 ♠️ ♦️ ♣️ )

angel ace

adeuyuu hcs ( ft ♠️ )

cuddling with ace

kissing adeuce when they ask ur lipbalm flavor ( ft ♠️ )

how adeuce fantasize abt their crush ( ft ♠️ )

adeuce bday kisses ( ft ♠️ )

adeuce fighting to confess first ( ft ♠️ )

things you do that make adeuce fall harder ( ft ♠️ )

model ace

aceyuu ramble

another aceyuu ramble

lovestruck ace

ring in orange proposal

adeuce period comfort hcs ( ft ♠️ )

ace jealous of others falling for you

hot things ace does

housewarden ace

streamer ace getting a gf

you're what's missing in my life ( ft 🦈 🐍 )

when you know you know

love beyond words ( ft 🐺 🐙 )

shenanigans ( ft ♠️ 😼 )

sweet sleep ( ft ♠️ )

ace with knight reader

traitor ace ( cw yandere )

good luck kiss before match ( ft ♠️ )

tropes to lovers ( ft all nrc boys )

best friend ace

"someone" decides to ask you for your opinion about "their friend" and you decide to tease them. ( ft ♠️ ⚔️ )

cupid is so dumb

soft mornings

devotion of a contrarian

airheaded s/o ( ft 🌹 ♠️ )

another beautiful day ( ft ♠️ 🐺 🍎 🐊 )

"what outfit should i wear for the date?"

oooo you wanna kiss me so bad ( ft ♠️ 🐺 🍎 🐊 )

it's definitely, absolutely, not love

you wish to kiss me? ( ft 🌹 ♠️ ♦️ ♣️, genderbend )

red and blue ( ft ♠️ ) ( cw yandere )

falling too deep too fast ( ft ♦️ 👑 🐊 🐍 ) ( cw yandere?? )

the joker and the queen ( ft ♠️ )

behind the teacher's back

heart-shaped kisses

tell it to my heart

"i'm losing my appetite" ( cw hurt/comfort )

nightfall ace

ace + sun

movie night

haunted house date with ace

you doing ace's makeup

amuse me ( ft ♠️ 🐺 🍎 🐊 )

what made your friends think you're dating him ( ft 🦁 )

high school romance with ace

how he says i love you

he's absolutely smitten with you ( ft 🍩 )

poly with adeuce ( ft ♠️ )

fooling no one

heartshackle relationship analysis ( ft ♠️ 😼 )

stay by my side ( ft ♠️ ) ( cw yandere )

christmas with poly adeuce ( ft ♠️ )

cuddle pile! ( ft ♠️ 🐺 🍎 🐊 )

^sequel to the cuddle pile ( ft ♠️ 🐺 🍎 )

stars by the pocketful ( ft 🌹 ♠️ ♦️ ♣️ )

poly adeuce with affectionate s/o ( ft ♠️ )

waking ace up in the morning

adeuce yan teamup ( ft ♠️ ) ( cw yandere )

sending your crush a survey form ( ft ♠️ 🐺 🍎 🐊 )

can i go where you go? ( ft ♠️ 🐺 🍎 )

come close, i won't bite

unrealized feelings

foxboy ace

your speckled face

reader confesses and immediately runs away embarrassed ( ft ♦️ 🦈 ☀️ )

competition ( ft ♠️ )

come inside of my heart!

longform fics/series

a reverie until recently ( i commed this! poly oysterjuice post nrc au i put it here bcs it's my list!!!!! u dont have to read it )

hearts held out of harm's way ( same author! reccing the tumblr version instead bcs cool logo :D poly adeuyuu )

three people, who share one soul ( fic series, will they won't day adeuyuu )

how to get the boy : a guide by yuu & ace ( first adeuyuu fic i downloaded on my phone aside from my comms and nath's sebek one shots!!! i love it sm even after all this time GRAHHHHH i liked it even during my malleus phase bcs it was so cute! )

[twodogs-twocats]

The Maskmaker and the Masked (Sleep Token’s III x fem reader) 18+, NSFW

You are hired by Sleep Token to design new masks for the band. But you quickly realize your relationship with III is more than professional.

Warnings: SMUT - 18+, MINORS DNI. Oral, penetration

I did my best to maintain members being masked while making this somewhat realistic. This is the first fanfic I’ve ever written, so please be kind! I hope you enjoy!

Part II

London was cold and rainy. Your head was steadily throbbing after 10 hours on an airplane, your hair frizzing out from the two buns you had carefully arranged just that morning. You felt sticky and tired.

And yet, you couldn’t help the tingle of excitement that coursed through your body. From the back seat of the taxi, you watched the rain splatter the windows as you twirled your thumbs. Excited, yes, but also incredibly nervous.

You had been hired by one of your favorite bands, Sleep Token, to design new masks for the band members. Apparently, the members of the band had found your Instagram and had fallen in love with your work. After several emails and phone calls with their manager and a couple of signed NDAs, you were emailed plane tickets and and address. And now, in just a matter of hours, you would be meeting the members to take measurements.

It had all happened so quickly, and while you felt confident in your work and thrilled by the opportunity, you were stressed about making a good impression.

A few hours later, feeling a bit more well-rested and certainly much cleaner, you followed the band’s manager through the winding corridors of an old house. It wasn’t quite where you were expecting to meet the members, but you were pleased by the aesthetic as it matched the mysterious vibe of the band itself. You made polite chit-chat with the manager, following them down a dimly lit hallway with red walls and ornate chandeliers.

Soon you heard the low thrum of male voices coming from a room ahead. You fiddled with the large tote bag that held your art supplies. The butterflies in your belly that had been softly fluttering all day long now grew into a frantic swarm.

The band manager stopped just before the door and turned towards you.

“Just remember, the band members will be masked, and you have signed NDAs that prevent you from releasing any sort of information about your time spent here with the band. I just want to reiterate that it is extremely important to the members that their privacy is respected”

You nodded. “Of course, I understand. I’m just honored to be here. I would never want to be disrespectful.” You meant this with all your heart. You appreciated the band’s desire to put their music first. You would never want them to lose that.

The manager offered you a genuine smile, and beckoned you into the room. “Right this way then.”

Taking careful steps and a few swipes at your hair (still frizzy - damn the rain), your eyes were met by the most beautiful sight.

All four members lay sprawled around a small, but gorgeously decorated room. Vessel lay stretched along a red leather couch, his legs so long that his feet (no shoes, just black socks with cat faces on them) dangled off the edge of the armrest. II was seated cross legged on the floor, clad in a thick black hoodie, reading what appeared to be a drummer’s magazine. IV stood by a window, sipping at a beer with his hands shoved in the pockets of his baggy black jeans. It was like staring at a piece of art far more spectacular than anything that lined the walls of this old manor. You weren’t even sure if you were still breathing.

Yet it was III that really caught your eye. He lounged casually in an overstuffed chair at the back corner of the room, long legs pulled up into his chest. His hair hung loosely around his mask. He wore a dark blazer and his trademark checkered socks. In a split second, you felt your body tune into his intense energy. He was incredibly attractive.

You had only a few moments to take them in like this, glorious in their peacefulness, before they realized you were there. Then it was all hugs and handshakes, smiles and questions.

“How was your flight? Not too dreadful, I hope.” Vessel asked you, taking your hands in his, their warmth welcome after the chilly weather. You were caught off guard by his voice at first, as you realized you had never heard any of them speak.

“Lovely to meet you, Y/N. I’ve admired your work for so long,” II offered, gazing at you rather intensely from piercing blue eyes.

“Come, sit.” IV said, clearing pillows off of the couch. You could see his eyes crinkled in a smile behind the fabric of his black mask. “We ordered pizza!”

It was at this very moment that your stomach grumbled loudly. You hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

This was received with gregarious laughter, but it was a quiet chuckle just behind you that made the hairs stand up on your neck. While you were being fretted over by the other members, III had managed to come up behind you.

“My my, we can’t have our girl so tired and hungry,” he spoke gently into your ear, his voice causing a shiver down your spine. Placing his large hand on the small of your back, he guided you firmly toward the couch. As you made to sit, his hands gently pulled the tote you carried from your shoulders. Everywhere III touched he left a burning imprint on your body.

“What else can I get for you, love?” he asked, kneeling before you and resting a hand on your knee. “You have come such a long way for us. I want to make sure you are well taken care of.”

Hot. He was so stupidly hot.

“I’m alright III, thank you.” You replied, trying to stay professional, even as his hand was burning a hole through your jeans. “Some food sounds lovely.”

“Good,” chimed in Vessel. “No work now. Tonight, we would just like to relax and get to know you.”

Soon the pizza arrived, and you spent the rest of your night immersed in delightful conversation. You talked about everything, from favorite foods to childhood pets, even playing a round of Never Have I Ever that left you laughing until your belly ached. Little by little, you felt yourself ease into their presence, becoming more comfortable and more capable of being yourself.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice the way III continued to look at you, his eyes always focused on you, lingering, assessing. You felt a knot in the deep parts of your gut. Was he checking you out? You felt like it was possible, but you didn’t want to read into it. You had a job to do. So instead, you continued to relax into the joyful company until the late hours of the night.

The next day was measuring day. You had everything you needed ready to go in your tote, and your head was swimming with ideas. The fact that your work was going to be worn by such talented musicians still felt unreal. Even more unreal after the incredible night you had just had. You couldn’t believe how sweet they all were, and they seemed just as in love with your art as you were with their music. The entire opportunity was a dream come true.

You arrived at the same manor as the night before, but this time you were led to a small sitting room flooded with natural light. Starting with Vessel, you met with each member one-by-one, having them sit on a stool in front of you while you gathered the data you needed.

While you worked, you chatted with them. They asked you questions about your art, and you asked similar questions back about their music. You listened intently, knowing that understanding their music on a deeper level would help you create better masks. Each interaction left you joyful and smiling. You still could not believe you were here with them, and how readily they welcomed you into their world.

The final member to measure was III. You could not lie to yourself, you had been the most excited to meet with him. You had spent your nighttime hours thinking about him, wondering what it would feel like to have him hold you, touch you, kiss you…

“Good morning Y/N.” IIIs voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Could he hear how loud your heart was beating?

“Good morning III,” you greeted him, plastering what you hoped was a nonchalant smile on your face. He looked ethereal, wearing a long-sleeve black button-down, and black jeans that perfectly accentuated his long legs. Just be professional, you reminded yourself. “Take a seat please, and we can get started.”

“Yes ma’am,” he quipped. Even as he sat, he still towered over you.

You pulled out your measuring tape and a pen and paper. Starting with his forehead, you drew the tape along the various planes of his face. Your fingers tickled with electricity as they studied the contours of his features under the black fabric of his mask.

The whole time, III gazed up at you with blue-grey eyes.

“Does it make it more difficult that we are masked while you’re doing this?” he asked you.

“Actually, it’s a bit easier,” you replied. “I can use the dimensions of your existing mask, rather than having to create complete new ones.”

He hummed with understanding. “Tell me more about your art. Why do you make masks?”

God, just him talking to you was getting you worked up.

“I’ve always been interested in the idea of losing oneself to one’s appearance. Whether it is a costume, makeup, tattoos, I often wonder if we use these things to hide ourselves, or to express ourselves more truly.” Your hands now measured the strong bridge of his nose. “Masks seem like the penultimate of this question. When we hide our faces, are we really hiding, or does the anonymity allow us to more fully be who we are?”

“How beautifully put.” Now you guided the tape along his jawline, feeling its sharpness under the fabric mask. Your fingers lightly traced the exposed skin of his neck, and you felt him stiffen. “A beautiful mind, beautiful art, a beautiful woman,” he said softly.

Your breath caught at his words and you shifted slightly. As you moved, your foot caught on his and you lost your balance, starting to fall backwards. But before you hit the ground, III’s strong arms wrapped around your waist pulling you towards his chest. His warmth, the strong muscles of his body, the musky smell of his cologne — all of it came crashing into you.

“Woah there love. I’ve got you.” He murmured into your hair as he continued holding you close. “I don’t need you getting hurt now. I’m not sure I could live with myself if you got hurt on my watch.”

You chuckled softly, but made no motion to pull away. “Thank you III. You just caught me off guard I guess.”

“Come now, I’m sure you’re used to such compliments.”

You felt yourself becoming braver now that you knew what he was trying to tell you. Now that his hands were starting to explore your waist, thumbs running small circles just under your breasts. “Ah, but I’ve never received such compliments from someone so…”

“Devilishly handsome?” he pulled back slightly, smirking down at you.

“So incredibly fucking hot.”

Two seconds. You felt him pause for two seconds while he registered what you said. By the third second, he had pulled the fabric of his mask up to his nose, wrapped his hands in your hair, and brought his lips down to meet yours.

The intensity of his kiss was ferocious. His teeth clattered into yours before he spread your lips with his tongue, sliding it in to meet your own. You kissed him back fiercely, as your hands explored his chest, his back, and finally ventured down to his ass.

That touch seemed to light him up even more, as suddenly he was picking you up to carry you towards the couch. He laid you on your back, spread your legs apart with his knee, and then proceeded to kiss you again as he knelt over you. This time, his kiss was more measured, slow and sensual. Your attention drifted to his knee pressing up against your core. He bit your lip gently. “Y/N, my love, you tell me when to stop, alright?”

“Alright,” you replied, gazing up into those stunning eyes, lids now heavy with lust.

You continued to kiss passionately while his hands explored your body, and then traveled up under your shirt. He took your breast in his large hand, thumb circling your nipple. “You are just perfect, aren’t you?”

You bucked to his touch, as your own hands worked to remove the buttons of his shirt. As he poised above you, now shirtless, his hair beginning to shine with sweat, you felt as though you were looking at a god.

“III?” You said softly, tracing a finger down his chest.

“Yes, my love?”

“Let me worship you.”

He growled at your words. You gently guided him off of you, until he was standing before you. Getting down on your knees, you started to unbutton his pants while his hands circled through your hair.

When he was fully unclothed, his massive length sprung out towards you. You were going to spend every second treating him like the god he was, you thought to yourself, as you took him in your mouth.

“Y/N,” he groaned. “That feels so fucking good.” His fingers in your hair tightened, and you welcome the little bite of sensation. You continued to pleasure him, savoring his taste, enjoying the way his breath sped up at your touch.

After you had taken your time with him, you felt a soft touch at your chin. “My love,” he said, taking your face to look up at him. “It is my turn to worship you.”

III guided you up to stand before him, and began to undress you. He took his time, letting his fingers caress your skin, kissing you along your collarbones, your shoulders, and down your chest. Once you were fully naked, he took a step back to admire you. Your body burned beneath his gaze.

“You, my love, are a work of art.”

And then his hands were everywhere. They wrapped around you, pulling you close. You felt his cock, still wet from your spit, pressing into your belly. His hands grabbed your ass, your waist, and then began drifting towards your center until his long fingers landed softly on your clit.

You let out a soft gasp, realizing how much you had needed him to touch you there. He traced lazy circles around your clit as he kissed your neck. You knees began to tremble at his touch.

Seeming to sense your inability to keep yourself upright, he guided you back to the couch and laid you down, fingers never leaving the wetness between your legs.

“I love how wet I’m making you,” he whispered, smirking. “My girl deserves nothing but absolute pleasure.”

You whimpered at his words as your hips arched towards him, wanting more.

“Tell me what you want, my love,” he breathed into your ear. “Tell me how to pleasure you.”

You looked into his eyes, meeting those cool blue depths. “I want all of you III. I want to feel you in me.”

It was like your words had released the final thread. III kissed you again, claiming your lips in his, as he pushed himself inside you.

It felt like heaven. His body in yours, your lips in his, the heat of your bodies like a fire between you. He rocked his hips in a steady rhythm, hitting you deep in your center every time, filling your eyes with stars.

Eden.

His fingers worked their way into your mouth, flooding you with your own taste. Your eyes met, locked together while III pounded into you, deeper with every stroke.

You came together, your body catapulting into a realm of intense pleasure as his fingers gripped the soft flesh of your hips, his head falling back as he reached his own climax. You relished in the warmth, the sense of fullness within you.

Slowly, your breathing softened. III pulled you close, and you both spent a few quiet moments settled in each other’s presence. The rain had started up again, spattering the windows and softening the daylight.

III’s fingers traced soft circles on your back as he held you. “Y/N, my love, I could do that forever.”

You knew in your heart you felt the same. So you pulled III closer and held on tight.

[carolmunson]

carol is at the laundromat.

(reader references being formally catholic as a child.)

New guy, you think, when you shuffle through your apartment door and down the hall — spotting him at the end of it. You’d seen him once or twice before in very brief passing. You’re sure he’d never noticed, you barely noticed him. Only that mop of curly brown hair and the clink of his wallet chain.

“Oh here,” he smiles, holding the door open for you that leads into the stairs to the basement.

“I’m actually not going to the laundry room,” you smile politely but tightly.

“You sure?” his brows quirk behind his curly bangs, brown eyes landing on the laundry in your arm.

“I’m sure,” you nod, “I’m going up the street.”

“Why?” he asks, lifting his full laundry bag higher up his shoulder, “There’s laundry in the building.”

“Eh, when your panties start going missing you stop wanting to use the amenity,” you shrug, “Plus, you’re not gonna find one washer open down there right now.”

“And you are? It’s Sunday — peak laundry day,” he counters. You chuckle, shaking your head — it only makes him more intrigued.

“Maybe downstairs,” you shrug, “You new to the neighborhood or something?”

“Seven months.”

“Hmm,” you nod, “Well, if you didn’t notice yet - lot of churches over here. And if time serves me right, church starts around 9 and runs until 10; sometimes 11.”

Your head tilts toward the clock on the yellowed walls of the hallway, “So, 9:15 is the perfect time to go.”

“No way,” he grins, “I don’t know if I buy it.”

“Don’t take my word for it. Everyone’s at church and everyone who isn’t is probably hung over,” you explain, “You wanna come and see for yourself? Washers are weirdly better over there anyway.”

He looks at the stairs and then at you, then at the clock, and the rainy weather outside. The elevator dings, two people walking by with laundry bags to head down the stairs.

With a sigh, he accepts the fate, “Alright, you got me.”

You both venture out into the soft mist of a dark gray Sunday morning, your IKEA bag of dirty laundry weighing heavy on your shoulder.

“Seventh months, huh? Welcome.”

“Thanks. What about you?”

“Ten years,” you laugh, “Not in this building, this is year three. But I’ve been in the area a while.”

“Cool,” he smiles, “I never see you around.”

“I live on the first floor, so our chances of an elevator meet cute are pretty slim,” you pull at the bag again while you turn the corner, he follows suit.

“Oh true, I’m on four.”

“Jealous. Good sun?”

“Yeah,” he smirks bashfully, “Like, really good.”

“That’s good. Though, it’s a good compromise for sharing a floor with Mrs. Slattery.”

“I really thought I was on her good side,” he turns back when he realizes he’s a few steps ahead, “Three weeks in she saw me in a Dio shirt, came home to a cross on my door.”

“She is…” you roll your eyes, crossing the street to the laundromat on the corner, “Easily the most god fearing Catholic I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot.”

You both make your way through the door, loose on its hinges. It’s a dilapidated place, and there’s a better laundromat two more blocks down, but you’re used to this now. The owner in the corner with her earbuds in, listening to gospel while she works on wash and folds. An older man with four bags of clothing on the other side, bedding for the family.

“You weren’t kidding,” he observes the emptiness, putting his laundry over an unused washing machine. There were plenty available for the taking.

“I know,” you murmur while you load your own machine - your favorite one. Row three, four washers down. Medium sized.

He gets to work too, the hardware on his wallet chain and leather jacket jingle like change in the pockets he pulls out of his jeans and sweatpants before he tosses them in to be washed.

Locked and loaded, he stands next to you, “Do you just go back home and come back to switch?”

“I stay for the wash,” you explain, “And then once I switch, there’s a café another block over that I’ve been going to for a while. Normally get breakfast while I wait for my clothes to dry. They have the best fucking biscuits.”

“Okay, okay, I hear that,” he grins, lower lip tucking into his teeth while he pulls his frizzing curls up into a bun at the back of his head, “Mind if I join you?”

“Nah, I don’t mind,” you take a seat on one of the cracked plastic chairs against the windows walls where he follows suit, “Been here almost a year…have you like, explored the neighborhood at all?”

“Honestly?” he holds his shoulders up by his ears with a hint of embarrassment, “Not really. Hate doing shit like that alone.”

“Do you not have friends?” you ask, realizing how accidentally mean it sounds as it comes out. He laughs anyway, heartily.

“Some, not around this area though,” he finishes out with a chuckle.

“Well, I’ll show you the café, there’s a lot of stuff over there that’s pretty cool,” you assure, checking the clock.

“I believe you. I’m not in a position to be saying no to friends in the neighborhood.”

“Good,” you smile, not even caring that you look exactly how you did when you rolled out of bed this morning.

“But if the biscuits are bad, it’s over,” he teases in faux seriousness. Denim leg crossing over the other, Vans now a grey and black from the weather outside.

“You’re gonna be more mad at me over how good they are,” you cross your legging’d legs to match his posture.

“You better hope so,” he huffs playfully, “I’m Eddie by the way.”

“Eddie,” you repeat back, introducing yourself, “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m glad we didn’t have our meet cute on the elevator,” Eddie smiles, “This is much more fun.”

“Also,” he turns, “If you ever wanna see how good the sunlight is upstairs, you can come over if you want.”

[choism]

Lost Puppy | j.s

Bulgae Hybrid!Jake x gn!Reader

Genre: Fantasy AU, smut, angst, hurt comfort

Word Count: 4.8k

Synopsis: While waiting out a storm, you find a battered spirit hybrid in need of help

General Warnings: heavy angst, mentions of physical and emotional abuse, mentions of forced sexual suppression

Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, impreg (kinda?), hybrid rut, face sitting, blowjob, bottom!jake, sub!jake, mommy kink, top!reader, pet name baby

A/N: Hello everynyan! This is my first ever jake fic finally and I'm proud to say that it's part of a collab hosted by @svngcore! I'm so glad I was apart of this collab and even though it's very late I hope you enjoy <33333

Bulgae are strong and fierce dogs or hairy dogs which are likely to be the indigenous Korean dog breed sasari, which means "ghost chasing dog".

It was a really stormy day in the city. You were on your way home from work once the storm hit, so now not only was it dark, the lights on the sidewalk flickering and only dimly lighting your path, but it was pouring rain. Luckily you always keep your travel umbrella with you, but it can only shield you so much from the fat droplets of water pounding the thin material. 

You decide it's not worth the 4 block walk to your apartment after you make it about halfway there and everything you own is soaked, so you duck into a covered alleyway, expecting to only be there for a maximum of 15 minutes. Was it dangerous to be in an alleyway at night on a rainy day? Yeah probably, but you're a risk taker. You close your umbrella and shake it off a bit, and attempt to dry yourself off as much as you can.

You spot a wooden box and figure you can sit while you wait out the rain, and plop yourself on the surprisingly sturdy wood. You take off your jacket and wring it out, a puddle of rainwater forming beneath it. Slicking back your hair and sighing, you try to take your mind off things by fiddling with your phone but squeal when you realize it was in your back pocket, so now it’s probably soaked. With bated breath you take it out of your pocket and attempt to turn it on, but the screen flickers a few times before displaying ‘WATER HAS ENTERED YOUR DEVICE, PLEASE DRY’ in all caps.

“Well shit,” you mutter under your breath, putting it back into your bag which has dried off a bit and decide to just stare off into the distance at the storm in front of you.

It’s let up a bit but definitely not enough for you to go out just yet. Running your hands through your hair again in frustration, you hear something move behind you. It was a small noise, like paper moving, so you just assume it’s a small rodent and thinking nothing of it, until you hear a louder shuffle.

You don’t dare turn around and decide to stay ignorant, hoping it’s some animal trying to find food and not interested in a human. Then again, it could be a malicious spirit, or worse, a malicious hybrid. No it couldn’t be, There is no way there are just stray spirit hybrids in the city… right? You startle when you hear a small whimper that sounds kind of like… a dog? Oh, that’s right, it could just be a stray dog or cat. Silly you, jumping to conclusions. You hear a small whimper again and you decide to investigate; if it’s an animal maybe you can help. 

You get up from your box and turn around to scan the alleyway. You don’t see anything immediately and just assume it could be hiding, probably to protect itself. 

“Hey… it’s okay I won’t harm you,” you say quietly in an attempt to soothe the potentially hurt animal, but you get no response except a whimper. The animal doesn’t make itself physically known, so you inch yourself further into the alley. It whimpers once more and your eyes track where the sound is coming from. There is a large green dumpster on the left wall of the alley so you approach slowly, thinking it is probably either inside or behind it. “It’s alright sweetie, I promise I just wanna help,” you say again as you reach the front of the dumpster. You peek inside but see nothing. As you are looking around, you see the tips of what look like light brown furry ears, a small cut on the left one, and a fluffy light brown and white tail peeking behind.

You walk to the side of the smelly dumpster, fully expecting to see a dogs body attached to the adorable appendages, but what you find honestly makes you jump. A dog hybrid, it looks like, probably a Bulgae spirit, one of the many friendly spirit hybrids people own as pets, friends, and in some cases, lovers. You have met a few, most of them owned by your friends such as a Gumiho or a Haetae, but you have never seen one be a stray. It’s rare they don’t have owners or don’t live out in their packs on conserved land. The hybrid winces away from you, clearly scared. Upon closer inspection, the hybrid is near soaked in rain, and cuts litter his body, the only thing shielding him from the harsh weather being a thin t shirt, tattered and dirty jeans as well as worn out vans. 

“Hey, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you. I’m just a bit startled to find a hybrid here,” you say honestly, not wanting to scare him further. The Bulgae looks at you and you nearly melt. He is beautiful and his doe eyes are captivating. Who would hurt this poor baby? “Can you speak? What’s your name?” you ask sheepishly. 

If he is a Bulgae, then you are still a bit frightened. Spirit hybrids are friendly for the most part, but Bulgae in particular are known for being prideful and a bit rough. Back in the day, Bulgae were kept to ward off evil spirits and malicious spirits, as they are known for their ferocity and loyalty to their owners. Nowadays, they are friendly, a bit more domesticated if you will, but they have been known to be fierce towards strangers and other hybrids.

“J- Jake…” he says shyly, his puppy dog eyes immediately making you forget how dangerous he could potentially be.

“Are you hurt, Jake? Do you need help? You look like you’ve been beat up.” His eyes light up and he nods quickly, inching a bit closer to you now, indicating you have earned a point of his trust. “Okay, let’s just…” You look back at the side of the alleyway you came in, the rain has finally stopped. “My apartment is only two blocks down. Do you want to come with me just for a bit to dry yourself off and maybe get you something to eat?” You reach out your hand as a friendly gesture, and to see if he accepts your offer. Wait. Why the hell did you just offer him your apartment? You don’t even know this guy and you're just helping him? Have you gone insane? Nevermind that, you’re in too deep now.

He takes your hand in acceptance and you lift him up onto his feet. He isn’t very tall, you notice, and it makes him appear cuter. Cute? Wow you really need to set your mind straight. He brushes himself off a bit, “Thank you, for helping me,” he says a bit awkwardly with a small smile. He even has a cute smile. You shake that thought off quickly.

“It’s not far, just follow me,” you say and turn away from him, trying to turn away the strange thoughts in your head. He trails after you as you walk out of the alley and in the direction of your apartment. “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, what happened? Why were you in an alleyway all beat up?” You are a bit hesitant to ask but your curiosity gets the best of you. Also, walking in silence for two whole blocks would probably kill you.

“Ah, my old owner kicked me out, he didn’t like me much.” He chuckles a bit but that doesn’t dull the new ache in your heart. What kind of person just throws out their hybrid?

“What? Why? You’re so cu- I mean, you don’t seem like a bad Bulgae?” You cough to cover up your slip up. Embarrassing.

“He didn’t say, but he had multiple hybrids and would frequent the protective service office often because he was...I don’t know how to put it lightly, but he abused us a lot. Both physically and emotionally. It’s why I have all of these cuts.” Jake whines a bit at that last part as his smile fades and his shoulders slouch.

You can feel the rage build in you. What kind of sick person has multiple hybrids and abuses them to the point he kicks them out? You hope he gets caught one day. Hell, maybe when you get the chance, you’ll do something about it yourself. “Well, I’ll take better care of you. I mean, until you find a new home that is.” You quickly correct yourself but you realize you implied you are gonna let him stay longer than a day. Fuck.

Jake’s eyes light up and his smile comes back. “Really? You’ll let me stay until then?” His tail wags behind him furiously. 

“Yeah, of course!” You smile back and continue walking.

After a while of chatting, you walk past a convenience store and stop dead in your tracks, causing Jake to bump into you suddenly.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stop suddenly. It’s just that I saw the convenience store and realized I don’t have much food at home right now. Do you wanna go in and grab some things?” His tail wags once again in interest and he nods his head, so the two of you enter the store. It’s pretty empty, probably because of how late it is. “Go pick out whatever you want, I’m gonna go grab some essentials.” You figured letting him choose his own snacks and food won’t harm your wallet too much.

“Okay! I’ll meet you at the counter when I’m done.” He smiles a full smile this time, and you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks, the heat bearing feelings you don’t need to be feeling.

“Alright I’ll just, erm, be over here.” You try to act cool but it doesn’t work very well. Ever the oblivious he struts over to the sweets section. You are about to head over to the instant food when you spot a rack with various mens clothing. Clothing? In a convenience store? How convenient.

You grab a couple of cheap shirts and shorts, eyeballing the sizes and hoping they fit the hybrid. You also grab some instant noodles and various other groceries and saunter up to the counter. What you don’t expect, however, is the Bulgae to have arms filled with snacks and sweets. 

“Oh wow that’s… a lot,” you say with a giggle. He probably doesn’t have a good concept of money considering how his owner was and after probably have been given nothing a majority of his life, he got excited seeing so much. It’s endearing, so you decide to overlook the price.

“Is it too much? I can put some back!” he says and is about to head back to the aisles when you stop him.

“No it’s fine, I did say get whatever you want after all.” 

The cashier rings up your unusual amount of items for the time of night and the both of you head back on your way to your apartment. 

About 10 minutes later you finally arrive and enter your humble space, groceries in tow. “You don’t have to unload anything, I’ll do it, but here.” You hand him the bag of the clothes you bought. “It’s not much, but I don’t think I have any clothes that will fit you, so I hope these fit.”

His eyes sparkle with appreciation. “Thank you so much for this, and for letting me stay here for a bit, you’re really too kind.” He smiles brighter than ever and without thinking, he bumps his head onto your shoulder with affection. You find it cute and you instinctively pat his head.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you like that I just… did it,” you say.

He quickly says, “No it’s fine I shouldn’t have nudged you in the first place.”

After an awkward pause you guide him to the bathroom.

“Here, you can take a shower, and if you are able to, you can dress your wounds. There is a first aid kit in the cabinet, I don’t want them to leave scars. Also sorry I don’t have any hybrid shampoo, I’ll pick some up tomorrow.” He thanks you briefly again before heading into the bathroom and shutting the door.

You head back into the kitchen and put away your groceries and make a small dinner for the both of you. You cook more than two people would need but if he doesn’t eat it all it can become leftovers. After plating some food and setting it on the coffee table in front of the TV, you hear him exit the bathroom. “Hey Jake I made fo- OH MY GOD.” 

You cover your eyes quickly because when you turn around to face him he is completely naked. No towel. Nothing.

“Why are you naked?! Oh my god, please cover yourself up!” 

Visibly confused, Jake walks a single step closer and tilts his head but you put your hand out. “What? I’m not dirty or wet any more,” he whimpers, He starts to think maybe the reason you’re shunning him is because he still smells bad, or because of all the covered wounds on his body. “Do I still smell? I used your shampoo. I should smell like you.” He, very comedically, sniffs himself and perks his ears up.

“No no that’s not- In a normal household you’re supposed to wear clothes unless- un- just put on some clothes please.” You plead and he retreats back into the bathroom with his new clothes in hand, doing as you say, albeit confused. He comes back out of the bathroom a moment later, this time fully dressed. 

“I’m sorry about earlier, my owner only made us wear clothes when we went out so I thought that’s what was normal.” He pouts sadly and your head wonders out loud.

“He didn’t… do anything inappropriate to you in that state?” you ask with a worried tone. God, you hate this owner guy.

“No! Nothing like that! He never went that far, he just thought that animals are naked, so we have to be naked too, but I guess he realized that people would question him, so we wore clothes only when outside, or when services showed up.” You couldn’t help but take his hand into yours.

“I won’t let anybody treat you like that anymore, okay? You’re safe here.” You smile. You can tell he has the urge to give physical affection, which you assume is alright. “You don’t have to be serious around me, I don’t mind affection.” Almost instantly he rubs his head and ears against your shoulder again, and wags his tail excitedly. 

“Thank you, again.” He says and licks an innocent stripe onto your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You decide not to say anything.

“It’s okay. Um, anyway, this couch is a pullout so this is where you will sleep but we can eat and watch a movie first to settle in a bit.” You pet his head affectionately. You take his silence as a yes and you settle onto the couch with him as you pull up a movie and he starts to eat his plate of food.

“This is delicious!” he mumbles, his mouth full of food. You giggle at how adorable he is and press play for some random movie you chose. Jake eats his food fairly quick and settles onto your lap, his tail brushing your leg. You try to pay no mind to the new warm body on your lap, but it’s kind of hard. You’ve been alone in your apartment for so long it’s weird to suddenly have an affectionate hybrid occupy your space, but it’s a nice kind of weird.

Jake falls asleep in your lap and after an emotionally draining day, you too find yourself dozing off when you start to hear him… moan? What kind of sound is he making? He is twitching a bit in his sleep and you can’t really tell what he is doing. He moans, this time a bit louder and it shocks you still. Is he… humping your leg? His hips start to twitch almost incessantly and you feel your face get very very hot. Oh my god, you have a hybrid, in your lap, having a wet dream.

What are you supposed to do in this situation? Wake him up? You don’t want to embarrass the poor guy. While contemplating what to do he stirs awake and lifts his head. There is a small pool of drool on your thigh where he was resting his head and all of a sudden, he shoots up.

“I’m- I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He starts rambling and panicking and you're about to tell him it’s okay when he runs off the couch and into the bathroom. You follow after him and you hear small sobs from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Jake? It’s okay, you’re okay, it happens!” It in fact, does not happen. But he is a Bulgae and all hybrids have sexual instincts they can’t help, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

“I’m so sorry I-” He chokes through a sob, “It won’t happen again, I won’t do it again, never again, I’m sorry.” He sounds so panicked it sends a rush of guilt and worry through you. How much did that owner fuck him up?

“Jake, it’s okay. It’s normal, I promise. Are you okay? Can I come in?” After a few seconds of silence you hear the lock on the door click, and you slowly enter the bathroom to see Jake on the floor in tears. “Hey shhh it’s okay, you’re okay.” You are about to touch him when he backs away.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… your scent is so strong here and my rut wasn’t supposed to happen for a while. Usually I suppress it because it’s a bad thing but-” 

You shop him. “Bad thing? Sexual instincts are not a bad thing, Jake. Did your owner tell you that too?” He nods his head and wipes the snot and tears from his face. “You’re okay, what you're going through is normal, okay?” 

“H-hurts…” he says quietly and you see his hips buck a bit onto the floor. You didn’t notice earlier, trying to focus on his face but you look down and you see his problem, very prominent in his shorts. “I can’t- it hurts,” he says again.

You’re now visibly flustered. How do you help a hybrid in this situation? “What, uh, what can I do?” You ask, feeling like you know the answer but too afraid to say it. You want to help him but you just met him, and don’t want to take advantage of him in any way.

He thrusts his hips onto the ground, chasing the friction. “Please help…me.” He says shyly, his face flushed red and his ears furrowed back in frustration.

“Jake, I don’t know… Are you sure?” You chew on your lip nervously, if he really wants to, you are more than willing to help. You can already feel your arousal building and dampening your underwear. “If you really want me to help you I will baby.” You don’t know where the pet name comes from but he doesn’t seem to mind, the blush on his cheeks deepening to a shade of red. You didn’t even think his face could get any redder.

Morally, you should say no. You should stop where you are but you have honestly felt a deep attraction to him since meeting. You want to help Jake, take care of him, and if that means getting fucked by him literally the first day of meeting then so be it. You grab his hand and lead him to stand up, you see his very visible hard on, straining against his pants, aching to be freed.

“Thank you.” He says a bit sheepishly, obviously he didn’t think this would happen either but he is grateful for you helping him out. You have provided a home, albeit a temporary one, and now you are taking care of his rut. This is the most attention he has ever gotten in his life. He wants to tell you that it’s okay, you aren’t taking advantage of him, that he feels something a bit deeper developing in his heart for your kindness, but his brain is too closed with lust and the need to fill you with his pups.

You gently guide Jake into your bedroom, leading him to the bed and sitting him down. “Okay so… how do you want this?” Jake very cutely tilts his head to the side and perks up his ears in confusion like a real dog and you feel your heart explode with cute aggression. All of a sudden you want to throw him around like a ragdoll, but in a hot, sexual way, not in a ‘I want to hurt you’ way. Jake almost as quickly realizes what you mean and regains his composure,

“I like uh, if you don’t mind, I’d like to be on the receiving end…” He trails off, his face and tone clearly showing his embarassment. With the way heat rushes straight to your core, you don’t mind this idea one bit. You want to take care of him, but you don’t want the awkward tension to last any longer so you decide to take charge.

“You want me to make you feel better? Does puppy want to be taken care of?” You very slowly sink to your knees in between his own, placing your hands gently a top his thighs and rubbing soothing circles, letting him know it’s okay, that this is okay. His eyes darken as he tilts his chin down to look at you. Jake can feel his cock throbbing in his pants, straining against the harsh material and aching to be touched.

You lean your head against his knee, just inches away from where he wants you most. It’s not to tease him but to calm his nerves a bit and yet he can feel his cock jump at the closeness. “Want you… mommy…” He says it under his breath, barely even a whisper and yet it sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. You have to be dripping by now. “Please mommy, want your mouth on my cock, wanna fill your mouth.” The Bulgae juts his hips a bit, beckoning for your face to come closer, or anything to come closer to where he needs you the most.

You lift one of your hands from his thigh and brush over his sensitive bulge, stroking it softly. You inch a little bit closer, your breath now fanning over his sweatpants and now you see it. He isn’t wearing underwear. You didn’t even realize you had none to give him, but it’s visible he isn’t wearing any at all due to the small stain of precum adorning the spot where his head is. You brush your thumb over the spot and Jake shudders in pleasure. You mouth over the area, suckling lightly over his clothed shaft. “S- stop teasing. Need you please.” The urgency and voice crack causes you to moan and Jake involuntarily bucks his hips against your mouth.

You pull away and wrap your fingertips around his waistband, gently tugging the material down his hips. Jake lifts his pelvis to accommodate you and finally his cock springs free. You honestly gasp. He isn’t very big, but he more than makes up for it in girth. You take his heavy length into your hand and he gasps, his angry red tip leaking precum and doubling as a nice lube. You waste no time, not wanting to prolong his pain any longer so you lick from the bottom of his shaft up to his head, taking it into your mouth. Jake sighs, relieved that the pain from his rut is going away and now turning into pure bliss, your hot tongue gliding through his slit and lapping up his precum nicely.

Taking him in deeper, you start to hollow out your cheeks to enhance his pleasure, bobbing up and down slowly and carefully maneuvering your tongue along his veins. Jake slowly starts bucking his hips into your mouth and a hand reaches to grip your hair. It’s not a harsh tug but it’s enough to send you reeling with arousal. You can tell he is close, his cock is throbbing and his balls are swollen with cum, but he pulls you off of him.

“Wait, can I cum inside of you? Wanna breed Mommy.” Jake pouts and you groan aloud.

“Fuck yes, please fuck me.” You get up from your knees and rid yourself of your clothing, while Jake takes off his top. “How do you want to fuck me, baby?” Sensually you crawl on top of him, his cock is so close to your entrance you can feel its heat near your own. You hadn’t noticed before, probably because you were preoccupied, but Jake was drooling everywhere, his pupils blown out from arousal. His large hands hold either side of your hips to keep you steady atop him.

“Wait, let me prep you. Wanna finger you and taste you first.” You swear this Bulgae will be the death of you.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You expect him to flip you over, but instead he guides your hips forward. He inches you further up his torso until your entrance sits directly above his mouth.

“Sit.” Jake doesn’t command it, but more whines it, like he is begging to eat you out. Instead of responding you decide to slowly lower yourself onto his tongue. You didn’t know until he started to lap at your heat, but it seems like Bulgae have more similar traits to dogs than you initially thought. His mouth is producing an inhuman amount of saliva, as if he is hungry for the taste of you. It’s enough to lube you up easily and it’s lewd the way his mouth sounds, lapping up your juices.

After sufficiently stretching you onto his tongue, he decides it’s time to go further so he brings one of his long digits towards your hole, entering just up to the second knuckle and curling against your pleasure spot. You unexpectedly feel your orgasm approaching and as if sensing it, he adds two more fingers to your now soaked heat. Two more thrusts of his fingers and you’re coming, your orgasm pulsing and probably one of the strongest ones you’ve ever had.

Jake pulls you off his face and flips you onto your back, unexpectedly he kisses you passionately. You are thrown off guard by such an intimate gesture but you say nothing of it, basking in the wet heat of his mouth, and the gentleness of the kiss. He pulls away all too quickly, “Wanna fuck you Mommy, please wanna breed you.” You can feel his throbbing length against the inside of your thigh, not close enough for your liking.

“Fuck me Jake, wanna feel you fill me up.”

Slowly he enters you, stretching you further than his fingers ever could. He groans into your neck before finally bottoming out, a whimper leaving his lips. “Feels so good, I could cum right now.” You don’t have time to respond before he pulls out and slams his hips into you. You don’t get to register anything that’s happened before he starts fucking into your hole relentlessly, the tip of his cock hitting your pleasure spot over and over, sending waves of warm, comforting pleasure throughout your body. You can feel every single thrust of his cock from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It’s like he was made to fuck you.

“Not gonna last, nng!” His thrusts get sloppy as his pleasure heightens, now a whimpering, whiny mess on top of you. Jake lifts one of your legs over his shoulder to go even deeper, if that were even possible. “Wan’ fill you with my pups, Mommy please.” He is barely garbling out real words, all of them slurring together in a lust drunk haze.

Already you feel your second orgasm approaching, this time white hot from the overstimulation and how perfect his thick cock feels inside of you. “Come inside baby, fill me up, go ahead.”

As if he were waiting for your permission, you feel his balls empty into you, endless ropes of hot cum filling you up to the brim and spilling out onto the sheets below. He finishes with loud moans and words you can’t make out and soon you finish, clenching around him and coming with a cry. You look up and he has tears in his eyes. “Feel better baby?” You ask gently as he collapses next to you, clearly exhausted. He grabs your waist and pulls you against him, taking in your scent.

“Yes, I couldn’t say it earlier, but thanks for taking care of me. I know we just met but it means so much to me.” Jake places a gentle kiss against your temple and you feel your heart shatter. 

How are you ever gonna get rid of this puppy?

[hottpinkpenguin]

Nighttime

Tommy Shelby X Fem!Reader WC: 1380 Content warnings: PTSD, drug use, alcohol use, mentions of war Summary: When your brother, Daniel "Danny Whizz-bang" Owens, comes back a broken man from WWI, Tommy Shelby is the only one who seems able to put him back together. And the more Tommy helps your brother, the more you realize he's helping you, too. Author's Note: First time writing for the incomparable Tommy Shelby and the PB boys! Thoughts on a part 2, anyone??

Nights like these made the dark parts of you wish that Daniel hadn’t come home from the War. Nights when he couldn’t remember your face, when he got so lost in the bottom of a bottle or the smoke of his pipe that even you couldn’t find him anymore. The brother Daniel was when he’d left in ‘14 hadn’t come home four years later. Most times, sunlight and a hard day’s work help him hide that fact well enough. Nighttimes were the hardest. Especially starless, rainy nights like this one. Something about the rain reminded Danny of the dark tunnels where his innocence had died. It’s always night in the tunnels, he told you. The sounds of his pathetic whimpering from the room next door fractured the ice you’d been forced to pack around your heart to keep life together. 

Yet, nights like these were the only times you saw Thomas Shelby. So, in some ways, nights like these made the darker parts of you grateful that Daniel was as broken a man as he was. You were certain that, if it weren’t for the destructive acts of “Danny Whizz-bang”, you wouldn’t be fortunate enough to have the second-eldest Shelby brother sitting in your kitchen, sipping tea. 

“You’re good to ‘im, you know.” 

You met Tommy’s eyes over the lip of your teacup as you took a sip of the bitter, bitingly hot liquid. His eyes were strikingly blue and steady. He regarded you evenly from the other side of your table, his expression guarded but not unkind. 

You smiled softly and sadly as you swallowed the hot tea, focusing on the way it seemed to melt through your chest.

“He’s my brother,” you replied matter-of-factly. “I love him. He’s not the same, but I won’t turn him out.”

You knew that’s what Tommy was getting at. You were good to Danny because you hadn’t turned your back on him, despite his broken parts. Most men who’d come back from the War with cases of shell-shock as bad as Danny’s had been turned out by their families. In some cases, it was because of embarrassment. Sometimes it was purely for safety. In your case, you were both ashamed and afraid of Danny’s fits, so you couldn’t say for sure why you hadn’t told him to leave. You wanted to believe that it was because of compassion, as you were happy to let Tommy believe. But there was a gnawing guilt deep in your gut that suggested other, more self-serving motives. 

The sound of Tommy’s teacup clinking into the saucer dragged you out of the downward spiral of your own thoughts. 

“More tea?” you asked, wondering if Tommy could hear the hopeful edge in your voice. He nodded gratefully, and you poured him another serving. He pulled out a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it, the glow from the match casting his handsome face in sharp shadows. You busied yourself with pouring yourself a second cup as well, if only to distract yourself from staring. 

A particularly sharp yelp of terror from Danny’s bedroom set your nerves clanging. You nearly dropped the kettle on the floor as you stood, reflexively, and hurried towards the barely ajar bedroom door. You heard Tommy’s strong, sure footsteps behind you. 

From the other side of the door, you could hear Danny sobbing in his bed. You’d left all the lamps burning brightly in his room to dispel the darkness that tormented him. He was curled under the covers, laying on his side and rigid. 

“Danny?” you called quietly. He jumped at the sound. You pushed open the door, gently so as not to slam it against the wall. 

“Danny, it’s me. It’s your sister. You’re alright, Danny. You’re home.”

It never mattered what you said. It was the sound of another voice that dragged Danny out of his reveries. Surely, as the words kept flowing, you saw Danny’s tight muscles begin to unwind. 

“It’s OK, Danny. You’re safe. Home in Birmingham. This is your room. And Mr. Shelby is here, too.” 

Tommy was no stranger to the scene before him, and he picked up on your cue easily. He stood behind you, so close you could smell his cigarette and the twang of whiskey on his breath as he spoke. 

“They’re gone, Danny. No more tunnels. No more Germans. The War is over.”

Danny rolled over in his bed, his eyes wide but focused. He honed in on Tommy like a moth to a flame. You could hardly blame him: the deep tone and firm, unhurried cadence of Tommy’s voice reminded you of ocean waves. Undeniable, strong, and magnetic. 

“Mr. Shelby-”

“It’s alright, Danny. Just rest now.” 

Tommy never let Danny talk to him when he was like this. You had never asked him why - you didn’t dare to - but you suspected it was because Thomas Shelby didn’t want to be reminded of the things that haunted Daniel Owen’s nights. In fact, if you’d been a betting woman, you’d have guessed that the same horrors stalked Tommy’s dreams. There were dark pools in the back of Tommy’s eyes sometimes that reminded you of the way Danny looked when he got like this. 

“Yes, Mr. Shelby.”

Danny nuzzled down under the covers, his eyes darting to you in questioning. Finally convinced of his lucidity, you stepped forward to tuck your brother into bed. You bent over and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, dabbing away the sweat that had beaded there with the hem of your sleeve. 

“Rest now, Danny Boy,” you whispered, using the name your mother had called him. Danny’s eyes drifted shut, and exhaustion took him quickly. He didn’t sleep well these days, and as the clock in your kitchen heralded the arrival of 3am, tonight was quickly shaping up to be a similarly wasted venture. 

With Danny calmed, for the moment at least, you followed Tommy’s retreat out of the bedroom. The lamps still burned merrily, burning through the precious oil you struggled to purchase at a rate comparable to the demand generated by Danny’s nightmares. Once his bedroom door had been pulled almost shut, only a sliver ajar, Tommy spoke again. 

“I should be off, y/n. It’s quite late.” 

You hated nights like these, and most of all this part of the night. The part when Thomas Shelby left. 

You didn’t trust yourself not to beg him to stay, so you bit down on your lip and said nothing. You watched as Tommy gathered his hat and wool coat from the coat rack next to your apartment door. He turned back to you, his eyes shining like pools of clear springwater. 

“Thank you for the tea,” he offered with a gracious, half-bow. So genteel and gallant. 

“Tommy, this bitter excuse for tea is the least I can offer, and you know that. Please stop thanking me for it.” It sounded bitter and outside of convention, but you meant every word. Thomas Shelby had saved your brother’s life in the War, and he continued to save it on a daily basis. The work that Tommy supplied to Danny through the Peaky Blinders gave your brother the only sense of purpose that he’d found after coming home. And Tommy’s steadfast guidance on nights like these was no small feat. You knew Danny loved you, and after almost 3 years, you’d learned how to handle your brother’s shell-shock, but Tommy had an effect on him that even booze and opium couldn’t replicate. Tommy grounded Danny. To say nothing of the effect Tommy had on you. 

As if to underscore the point, Tommy let out as close to a smile as you’d ever seen as he donned his hat. The sight made your heart twirl between your ribs like a little girl around a maypole. 

“It’s never a bad thing to express gratitude, even for humble gifts,” he replied easily. “And I am grateful.” The sincerity with which he delivered these last words silenced any retort you might have had. You could only smile back as he turned and showed himself out your front door into the dingy hallway. You didn’t close the door fully until Thomas Shelby’s footsteps had fully faded in the stairwell and down the cobbled street outside… 

**if I write a p.2 and you want to be tagged, shoot me a message!

[pankowcrumbs]

Misunderstood X Joe Keery (Requested)

MasterList

Stranger Things and Cast Masterlist

I wasn’t proud of it, but I’d been stewing for days.

It started with one stupid moment. One second of looking over Joe’s shoulder when he was on his phone, laughing at a text.

I hadn’t meant to look honestly but I caught a glimpse of a name I didn’t recognise.

Ellie.

And a message that said: "Can’t wait for you to see everything tomorrow"

My stomach dropped. My heart started hammering.

He noticed me standing there and quickly locked his phone, shoving it into his hoodie pocket with a casual smile.

"Alright, love?" he said, leaning in for a kiss.

I forced a smile, let him kiss my cheek, but inside… something sour began to brew.

That was three days ago.

Three long, agonising days of second-guessing everything.

Every smile he gave me. Every time he tucked his phone out of sight. Every time he was texting and didn’t tell me who it was.

I wasn’t usually like this.

Joe had never once given me a reason not to trust him. He was the most loving, gentle, open-hearted man I’d ever known.

But still.

The way he’d hidden his phone… the way he laughed with someone else... it gnawed at me.

Maybe it was stupid. Maybe I was overreacting.

But the doubt festered.

It poisoned every conversation, every moment of silence, until I could barely look at him without feeling sick.

Finally, I snapped.

It was a rainy Saturday afternoon. We were in the lounge, the grey light seeping through the windows, Joe sat cross-legged on the floor fiddling with something.

I was curled up on the sofa, arms crossed tight, the weight of it all making me cold.

Joe looked up, smiling.

"Got a surprise for you soon," he said, eyes warm, utterly oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. "You’re gonna love it."

I blinked at him.

A horrible laugh bubbled up before I could stop it.

"A surprise," I said flatly.

Joe’s smile faltered.

"Yeah?"

I stood up, arms trembling.

"A surprise from Ellie?"

He frowned, confused.

"What?"

I shook my head, fury and hurt spilling over.

"Don’t act like you don’t know," I snapped. "I saw the texts, Joe."

He stood too, setting whatever he was working on aside carefully.

"Y/N, hang on"

"I’m not stupid," I said, voice rising. "You’ve been hiding your phone, laughing with her behind my back"

"It’s not what you think," he said quickly, stepping closer, hands out like he was calming a frightened animal.

I backed away, heart pounding.

"I trusted you," I whispered. "I trusted you and you’re lying to me."

He looked devastated.

"Y/N," he said again, softer now. "Please. Just let me explain."

I crossed my arms, tears pricking hotly at my eyes.

"Go on then," I snapped. "Explain."

Joe ran a hand through his hair, exhaling hard.

"Ellie’s a mate from college," he said. "She’s a graphic designer. I asked her to help me put something together for your birthday."

I stared at him, heart thudding.

"What?"

He quickly went to his office and came back with the thing he’d been working on a thick, beautiful scrapbook, the cover hand-painted with our initials entwined.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he said, voice breaking a little. "I didn’t want you to see it early."

He handed it to me, fingers trembling slightly.

"Open it," he whispered.

I hesitated, shame already crawling up my spine, but I did.

The first page was a collage of photos us on the beach, laughing at a bonfire, cuddled up on the sofa, Christmas mornings, silly faces, soft kisses.

Every moment carefully picked, beautifully laid out.

Each page was better than the last captions handwritten in Joe’s messy scrawl, little inside jokes tucked into the corners.

A whole book of our life together. A love letter in pictures and memories.

I pressed a hand to my mouth, tears spilling freely now.

"Oh, Joe," I choked out. "It’s beautiful."

He stepped closer, cautious.

"I just... wanted to do something special for you," he said. "You deserve it."

I looked up at him, the scrapbook trembling in my hands.

"I thought you were cheating on me," I whispered, voice cracking.

Joe’s face crumpled.

"Oh, love," he said, pulling me into his arms immediately. "Never. God, never."

I sobbed into his chest, clutching him tightly.

"I’m so sorry," I gasped. "I was just... I didn’t know, and I got scared, and I..."

"Shh," he murmured, kissing the top of my head. "It’s alright. I get it."

"I should’ve trusted you."

He pulled back just enough to cup my face, thumb brushing my tears away.

"You had a wobble," he said gently. "That’s all. Doesn’t mean you don’t trust me. It just means you care."

I let out a wet laugh, still hiccupping.

"I’m such an idiot."

He smiled, leaning his forehead against mine.

"You’re my idiot."

I clung to him, breathing him in soap and coffee and home.

"I love you," I whispered fiercely.

He kissed me slow, sweet, reassuring.

"I love you more," he murmured.

We stood there for a long time, just holding each other, the rain pattering softly against the windows.

Eventually, he pulled away enough to grin at me.

"You know," he said playfully, "you still haven’t looked at the last page."

Sniffling, I wiped my cheeks and opened the book again.

The final page was a photo of us at the seaside, taken by a stranger me on Joe’s back, both of us laughing uncontrollably.

Underneath, in Joe’s handwriting, it said:

"Can’t wait to spend forever with you."

I let out a little sob, laughing at the same time.

"You soppy git," I whispered.

He winked.

"You love it."

I nodded, heart bursting.

"Yeah," I said, voice thick. "I really, really do."

Joe smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You’re stuck with me, you know."

"Good," I said, kissing him again.

He deepened it, hands warm and sure on my waist, grounding me.

"I promise," he murmured between kisses, "there’s never been anyone but you."

"I know," I whispered back. "I know now."

He rested his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.

"We’re alright, yeah?" he said quietly.

I squeezed him tighter.

"Better than alright."

And I meant it. With everything in me, I meant it.

No more doubts. No more fears.

Just me and him.

Always.

[ladylooch]

Bones - Part 18 [Mack x David]

A/N: I love so much about this, but the way the opening part of this one lives rent free in my head at all times, since I wrote it. Mack, get it girl 👏🏻 I want all that David is packing in this one.

Word Count: 4.6k

June

Outside the window in front of her, Mack watches as her husband rolls back up to the barn with his truck. A cold mist drizzles down from the sky, coating everything in dampness. The dirt is mud beneath his boots as he starts to unload posts and extra fencing from the back of his truck. He wears his worn leather work gloves to protect his hands. A local mechanic shop’s hoodie is on his big upper body. His hood is up, cover his black hair from the rainy morning.

Mack takes another long sip of her coffee, tilting her head to the side. She takes in his full ass in his blue, Carhartt jeans. The bulge from his can of tobacco has worn a white circle into the denim on his left side. His muscles scrunch and bulge as he gathers the remaining materials in his hands before disappearing into the barn. 

Farmer David has her heart and mind this morning. 

The coffee pot beeps beside of her and hisses out hot steam as it ends a brewing cycle. Mack grabs David’s thermos, pouring in the black liquid to prepare to bring it to him. He snuck out this morning while she was still sleeping, but she is dying to have coffee with him on this rainy, cold Saturday.

With the thermos in hand, Mack heads over to the closet, getting out her leather boots so her socks stay dry from the rain. She skips a rain jacket, instead grabbing a Rangers hoodie, and tossing it over her shoulders. On her head, she places a Budweiser hat David got her as a joke. She double checks Nicky is still sleeping on her monitor app, then quietly exits the house. David is still hidden inside the barn. She walks in with her hands stuffed into her sweatshirt pocket, thermos pinched against her ribs. 

Clanking of metal and tools sounds close to the front of the green tractor he is now working on. He’s been up for hours, fixing fence, feeding animals, and now instead of being done with the mandatory things and calling it a day, her hard working man is on to the next task. She gets closer, seeing him bent inside. His huge shoulder muscles strain against the blue fabric on them. One foot is slightly lifted off the ground, mud hanging off of it, while a worn, oil rag is tucked into his back pocket by his tobacco tin. 

Mack walks to the front, setting his thermos on the work bench and taking in the view. He starts muttering to himself, grunting as he twists a tool harder around a bolt… or maybe it’s a nut. Mack doesn’t really know. But the angle and force tightens his muscles further and suddenly she has to check her lips for drool. 

“That should do it.” He murmurs to himself. He puts a few fingers on it, wiggling, then tightens it a smidge more before backing out from under the hood. “Hi honey.” He says without looking over at her.

“How do you know I’m here?”

“I can smell your perfume.” He responds, not taking his eyes off the engine. “Otherwise, you would have surprised me.” He licks his lips, then does one last small twist with his tool on another bolt. “You up already eh?” He steps towards her as he wipes his hands on the towel in his back pocket. “It’s barely 7.”

“Yeah I know. And it’s a Saturday.”

He raises his eyebrows at her. 

“Why does it matter that it’s the weekend?” He tosses the used towel onto the work bench, then wraps his arms around her hips. He pulls her into his chest. It’s slightly damp from the misty rain but Mack doesn’t mind. Beneath that dampness is the furnace she was missing when she awoke this morning. She runs her hands up his chest to his shoulders, anchoring herself there for a kiss. His tongue curves over her bottom lip, eating her up in a way that makes Mack spacey.

“It’s a problem that you’re out here working so hard and not in bed with me.”

“What would I be doing in there that’s better than this?” He asks cheekily.

“Working hard on something else.” Mack smirks up at him, accepting his next kiss with more enthusiasm, bringing up the heat between them.

The rain starts to pick up outside, hitting the metal roof with heavier pings. Mack looks up at the new roof David replaced with the farm hands last summer. It used to leak like crazy during storms but the new steel shields them. A soft roll of thunder sounds out and Mack grins.

“Hmm?” He asks her about her look. She hooks her hands around his neck and pulls his face down to hers.

“Tell me you’re going to make all my rom-com dreams come true right now.”

“Mrs. Mackenzie, did you come out here to get laid?”

“Yes.” He laughs, head tilted back as his stomach tightens and shoulders shake from the effort.

“I can’t stop thinking about the story you, Cody, and Felix were talking about earlier this summer. About how despite what they think, you’ve never had sex in this barn.”

Felix and Cody hadn’t been able to believe it. Apparently David and his high school girlfriend were known for sneaking off to get busy. David had been adamant it never happened. 

“My dad would have whooped my ass if he caught me doing anything by his John Deere.” David had said at the time, rubbing at his mustache and smirking a little too hard.

“Yeah? What about it?”

“I think you’re a liar.” She confesses, rolling her hand down his chest to cup him over the zipper of his jeans. He protrudes stiffly as he presses his hips into her palm.

“Mmmm, I’m not lying, honey. No one in here. Ever.” 

“Not even a titty grab?”

“Well…” He trails off, then brings a hand under her breast. He makes a C with his fingers, cupping the right one. His thumb strokes across the center where her nipple protrudes from the cold. “Now I have.” He whispers against her lips. His tongue plays with hers as he urges her head fully back so he can consume her mouth better.

“No head?”

David scoffs, eyes closing as if in torment.

“No, but I fucking tried. I’ll admit that.” Mack giggles, smiling broadly. 

“Should I make your dreams come true?” She whispers seductively. 

“I love you too much to let you get on your knees in this barn, honey.” He chuckles. He smoothes her fly away hairs back from her forehead, then looks over at the work bench. He cocks an eyebrow at her. She gives him a look of approval back. His arms fall back to her waist, scooping her up into his arms.

David brings Mack over to the work bench. To her left, he begins to clear a better spot off, then leaves the barn, murmuring that he will be back. He returns with a blanket in his hands, the one he had used to cover her when she gave birth to Nicky almost a year ago.  He lays it down for a different purpose now, then he lifts her up onto it.

“I’ve always imagined this with you….” He jokes, pretending to be bashful like it really is a movie. Bashful isn’t something David can play convincingly. Instead he comes across confident in his pursuit. Mack falls a bit back onto the blanket, giggling as her hands support her weight. David unbuttons her jeans, then works them down her thighs and off her legs completely.

“Oh Farmer Davey. This night has been so special to me. Please… make love to me.” She bats her lashes at him.

“You’re better than a movie, honey.” He whispers, cupping her face. It’s so sincere, Mack actually blushes.

David steps between her open legs. Mack watches him undo his jeans, bottom lip tucked between her teeth. It’s a sight to behold. Strong fingers working at the metal enclosures. The way he tucks his thumbs into the waistband of his clothes to work them off his hips. How he widens his stance to keep them at mid thigh, then gathers his cock confidently into his hand. Mack can feel her eyes melt like chocolate. His big palm wraps around his shaft, stroking twice before he steps forward to run his swollen head through her wet folds. 

“C’mere.” He murmurs, reaching for her neck. He pulls her to kiss him as he pushes in that first, tight inch. Mack gasps into his mouth, then bites down on his bottom lip as he keeps going. 

“Mmm.” She moans, turning the bite into a nibble. Goosebumps cover her body, tightening her nipples beneath her shirt. Her fingers grip his neck, then thread through his hair, scratching at his scalp.

“So good, honey.” He whispers into her mouth. 

His hips pump in and out slowly, working her up into a pace that they both want to be at. The coil in Mack’s core begins to tighten. She rolls her hips down into him, chasing for more until he gives it to her. The fronts of his thighs hit the work bench, jiggling tools and metal cans of nuts, nails, and screws. It’s loud and echos each of his thrusts through the barn. The rain picks up, another roll of thunder washes over the farm, and then a low, growly groan rocks from David’s chest. 

“Look so pretty with my cock inside you, baby. Spread out just for me…” David tugs her closer to the edge of the work bench, switching up the angle to brush against her velvet button. Mack whimpers. David holds her hips down to stop her helping. Her head lists backwards, rolling off her shoulder so her throat is exposed for him. He brings a hand up, stroking down the thick column as it expands and shrinks from each breath into her lungs. 

Mack feels electrically alive as her orgasm rocks through her. David works her through it, gritting his teeth together to save his for their next position. 

“You gonna bend over for me now? Let me really give you what you came out here for, hmm?” He requests as he pulls her off the work bench.

He lets her feet drop back to the ground, then eats her up with his gaze as she turns seductively. She bucks her bare ass back into his wet cock. She leans forward, crossing her arms, then laying her cheek on them like the good girl he wants her to be. Her bottom lip rolls into her mouth again as he pushes in. Her eyelashes flutter, and a squeaky exhale falls from her parted lips. 

She loves this feeling, like he’s going to fuck his way through her body. It’s so deep and intense, even when he’s going slow, letting her adjust to the new depth he is reaching. David glides an arm across her hips, leaning more forward. His chest stays connect to her back, only his hips working in and out of her. He presses all the way forward, getting as deep as he can, balls rubbing against her clit. He works his hips in a circular motion that has Mack holding her breath. 

“Fuck.” She finally exhales in a gasp. “Th-that’s good. Really good.” She inhales deeply, then lets it out in a fast moan. 

“Yeah? You love this cock, huh honey?” He holds her there, letting her savor it, turning her face to the side so he can devour her mouth. Then he begins to build back up into slow but powerful thrusts. He takes his time with her now, really pushing the limits of her with their bodies pressing together. One of his hands glides from her waist to her shoulder where her neck meets it. His fingers fold over towards her chest, thumb brushing at the curled hairs at the back of her neck, rubbing circles. 

“Your pussy’s s’good. So wet. All for me. Got her trained so well.” He praises.

Sharp staccato breaths begin spilling from Mack. She drops her head back to her crossed arms, trying to resist the buckling her knees want to do. David can sense it, holding her tighter across her hips. The hand on her neck circles around to her throat, easing her head back to his shoulder. His grip tightens on her throat, then he pounds into her with no holding back. Mack grips his forearm, fingernails digging in as he gives her everything he’s got left. The demanding thrusts take her under fast. Her whole body spasms through her orgasm. Mack yells out his name, groaning before the intensity steals her voice completely.

“Fuck yes.” David moans spilling his load into her with four final bucks. Mack feels his cum pooling together, then dripping out of her immediately as he pulls out. His cock spasms against her ass as he gathers her in his arms to kiss her deeply over her shoulder. His mustache tickles her nose as sweet, soft pecks work their way along her entire mouth. “Mmm, this with you, anytime, honey.” 

A chill moves through Mack as David steps back. He works himself back into his clothes, then grabs hers. Delicately, he threads her feet back into both items of clothing, then slides them up her legs. Mack falls back against his shoulder as he works the zipper and button back into place. Her eyes are closed, complete mush on his chest.

“My baby is tired.” He murmurs, ghosting a hand over her hair. He kisses her temple tenderly. 

“Yeah. But our baby is about to wake up. Come have breakfast with us?”

“Okay.” He agrees quietly. 

With both of them fully clothed again, Mack and David head out of the barn, holding hands. Felix is pulling back into the driveway, which makes Mack realize how close they were to getting caught. Like teenagers. She hides her giggle in David’s arm as Felix rolls the window down.

“Hey, you need help?”

“No I’m heading in. Might be back out later, but everything that needs to get done is done for the day.” 

“Alright. See you tomorrow.” He waves then continues on to his house. 

“Five minutes earlier and damn would he have had a show.”

“We can never do that again.” Mack shakes her head. David gasps as they walk up the front porch steps.

“Honey, no. You can’t give barn sex and then take it away.” He extends his hand out towards the barn. Mack shakes her head at him again. His hand drops to his thigh in a dramatic slap. Mack kisses his cheek in reassurance. He grabs the door, holding it open for her. He watches her ass as she walks into the entry way, kicking off her boots. David keeps his out on the front porch then jumps into the house to avoid his socks getting wet. 

A soft cry sounds from their son’s room. David looks towards it, beaming with joy that his baby is up.

“I got him.” He tells her.

Mack goes to the kitchen to start working on breakfast for their little man. Today is a single egg, some banana and a bottle of whole milk. 

“I know, I miss her too when I sleep.” She hears her husband murmur as he comes down the hall. “But then I get to see her every morning and it’s the best part of the day.” 

Mack look over her shoulder, smiling at her boys. Nicky’s black hair is wild and staticky, which makes her laugh. The little boy lights up like a summer sunrise when he sees his mama. He reaches for Mack who gathers him into her chest, smooching all over his cheeks. She pays extra attention to his huge dimples. 

“Good morning!!!” She coos to their happy baby. “Aren’t you just the most handsome boy in the whole world? Look at you!” She pokes his belly, making him break out into giggles. David pinches at his sides, escalating the giggles until the three of them are laughing so hard their cheeks hurt. 

David’s hand glides across Mack’s shoulders, holding her close. His face turns into her hair and he kisses her.

“Thank you, honey. You made us the perfect baby.” 

Mack grins.

He gives her way too much credit for that. 

But he is right. Their baby is perfect.

She can’t wait to celebrate one year of him soon.

- - - & - - -

July

“Honey?” Mack hears her husband call into the house where she is at the kitchen counter. Her and her mom are just finishing cutting up a ton of fruit for Nicky’s first birthday party.

“Yeah, babe?” She calls back to him.

“Can you come look at this to make sure it’s what you’re thinking before Cody leaves to wash up?”

“Sure.” Mack wipes her hands on a hand towel, then looks at her mom. “Are you good?”

“Yes. Go.” She nods, continuing to cube the watermelon.

“I’ll help mom finish.” Lucie says as they pass each other in the doorway.

“Thank you.” Mack smiles, then heads towards her husband. He holds the door open for her as Mack slides her feet into her Birkenstocks. She steps onto the porch then gasps in excitement. “Oh my gosh! Ah!” Mack claps excitedly. “It looks so good!”

For their son’s first birthday, the theme had to be farm animals. After the barn got a fresh coat of vibrant red paint a few weeks ago, Mack knew they should have the barn as the center of the party. With that, she had an idea of getting a ton of balloons and dotting them in an arch all over the entrance of the barn. The balloons have reds, blues, and cow print patterns on them, creating a fun and festive glow. They won’t have any food inside the barn, but the gathering tables are set out in front of it while Nicky’s high chair is sitting in the shaded area by the arch.

“It looks great.” She brings her clasped hands in front of her mouth. “I’m so in love with it.” 

“Good.” David smirks, squeezing her shoulder. He brushes her neck with a few thumb swipes then steps forward. “We are good, Code.” 

“Thank you!” Mack yells to him. He tosses her a wave, then heads towards his truck after speaking to David briefly.

“Ooooo, that looks great!” Sophie pops her head out, inspecting the work. “Nicky is going to be so excited when he wakes up from his nap.”

“Hopefully not for another hour though.” Mack insists. Any earlier and they will have a cranky birthday boy on their hands.

In that hour, the food is stationed all throughout the kitchen, dining room and part of the living room area. With the bugs and wind, putting it outside was not an option. Instead, the porch is lined with coolers filled with drinks. People start arriving as Nicky is waking up from his nap. David goes into his room, waking him up in a quiet space and changing him into his farmer outfit. 

“Look who’s up, mama.” David says as he comes into the kitchen with Nicky. He is dressed in little Oshkosh overalls and a plain white shirt. On his upper lip is the stick on mustache Connor brought last year. Mack laughs, clapping her hands and then leaning forward to smooch her husband. 

“That’s cute, babe.” 

“He doesn’t like the straw hat, but is okay with this one.” David rubs at the denim bucket hat on their son’s head.

“That’s okay! He looks so adorable.”

“Gimme.” Sophie demands, taking her nephew from David. “Let’s go see your party, Nicky!” 

Mack and David trail after Sophie as she brings their baby around all the different stations. She ooos and awes over the food with him including the rice Krispy treats that she calls hay bales. His smash cake is also on the dessert table and he tries to reach for it.

“No, no. Not yet!” She chuckles. “We need everyone to be around for that.” Instead, Sophie gives him a bite of watermelon to gum on. 

Sophie wanders outside, showing him the tables with various colored table clothes, the different games for the various kids who are coming to celebrate, and of course, the balloon arch.

“Now say thank you uncle Cody for the balloon arch!” Sophie cheers, holding up Nicky’s fist so he can fist bump. Cody does, careful of the condensation covered beer bottle in his fist. 

“Anything for you, little dude.”

“Hey, does he need sunscreen?” Mack asks her husband, covering her eyes as the cloud moves past the sun.

“No, I put it on.”

“Okay.” Mack nods.

“There is nothing else to do but have fun, honey.” David says into her hair. Mack nods. He is right; it’s time to enjoy the celebration. 

For the next few hours, Mack’s hands feel weirdly empty, even with the High Noon in her grasp. Everything is taken care of by her husband, her sisters, her parents, or Lorena. It’s weird to be sitting down, socializing and not up hustling after the baby or cleaning something. Weird, but not bad at all. 

Mack brings the can of her drink up, rolling her eyes as her brother in law talks about her birth story like he was there.

“I feel like you don’t talk about this enough.” Connor shakes his head, opening up a juice box for Winnie. “Like that was so bad *he mouths* ass. Like… Nicky will be a legend for years to come.”

“I’m just glad I survived.” Mack chuckles, shaking her head. Although that’s actually valid and maybe not as funny as she is brushing it off to be. 

“I offered to recreate the drive early this morning with her.” David says pointing to the East where they barely made it a few miles last year. Everyone laughs. 

“Maybe next year.” Mack shrugs. 

It would be fun to recreate that drive with her husband some day. To reflect and have appreciation for everything they did that night to safely bring their son into the world together. But it’s only been a year and the birth trauma is a little fresh for Mack still. With that in mind, she changes the subject.

“Are we ready for some cake?” 

“Yes!!!!!!!!!!” Winnie yells. Mack chuckles.

“What, the five hay bales you had weren’t enough?”

“No. It’s not the same as cake. It’s just cereal and marshmallows. I could have that for breakfast.”

“True.” Mack nods. “Do you want to help me? I need a helper for plates and napkins and forks.”

“Yeah!” Winnie takes off towards the house.

“Daddy, can you help me with the big cake?” Mack asks her husband.

“Mhm.” He stands up immediately and they walk hand in hand to the porch.

Once inside, Winnie gathers up all the items from the bags on the table and hauls them outside. Mack smiles, watching Lucie help her get everything settled outside. In his grandpa’s arms, Nicky tries to reach for a balloon on the arch. Large hands come to Mack’s hips at the dessert table as she carefully picks up Nicky’s cake. 

“The other cake is in the fridge.” Mack tells her husband. He doesn’t listen. Instead, he winds his hands along her stomach, pulling her back until they press together.

“I’m so in love with you, honey.” Mack whimpers and leans deeper into his chest. His arms tighten, one going across her chest to hold her shoulder. He is careful of the cake as he kisses her cheek. “Seriously. So obsessed with you and our boy.” 

“I love you.” She sighs to him. He steps back, then his boots thump against the floor as he heads to grab the cake from the fridge. Together, they walk back outside. Kids of various ages run around their legs, so excited for a piece of sugar. 

“I want that piece! That one!” Winnie yells, putting her fingers into it to mark it.

“Hey, hey!” Connor grabs her hand, bringing it out of the cake. “We don’t put our fingers in people’s food. Or by knives.” He holds Winnie in place while David cuts the rest of the pieces. Everyone is given a piece and then Mack brings the smash cake over to their baby. 

“Are you ready?” She asks, laughing at literally everyone with their phones up.

“Y’all are more than welcome to take videos and pictures, but please help us protect our boy and keep them off social media.” David reminds everyone of their parental rule. He nods at Mack once he feels people understand how serious he is and she sets it down. David wraps an arm around her waist, smiling as Nicky carefully inspects the cake. He brings the white, butter cream frosting to his lips then starts to bounce excitedly in his high chair at the taste.

The crowd giggles and cheers as he pulls out a fist full of cake and frosting. Mack can’t help but tear up. Her bottom lip quivers between her teeth and she exhales heavily in her husband’s arms. She is so in love with that baby. What a gift it’s been the last year to be his mom and raise a baby with the love of her life. 

Mack sniffs, reaching up to wipe the tears off her cheeks. She can remember everything about a year ago today. The discomfort. The contractions building quickly. The panic in her voice when she asked David if they were going to make it to the hospital. Then the way her husband came through as a real life super hero for them. He was calm, steady, unwavering as he did what had to be done. Mack squeezes his forearm in recognition, so thankful for the man she made that little boy with.

After the festivities die down, Mack and David take advantage of numerous baby sitters in the house and head out to the sunflower patch they have replanted year after year to keep their proposal site fresh. They each have a beer with them, David brings a blanket, and they curl up on the bench he made years ago now. 

“I can’t believe how fast this year has gone.” Mack sighs, looking at the streaks of the sunset across the sky.

“I know. He is so big. How is he already cruising on those legs so fast?”

“I don’t know. We need to do better baby proofing here.”

“Yeah.” David agrees. “It’s hard cause there is so much more stuff he can get into now. I feel like we need those alerts on the door for next summer that ding when the door opens.”

“Oh for sure.” Mack nods enthusiastically. “When you were out with Cody, before his nap, he was grabbing all the pictures from the tables and throwing them. Literally, throwing them.”

“He is gonna be a little terror and I love it.” 

“The next one better be a girl.”

“Next one, eh?” He grins at her. 

“I would do this again with you, babe.” She says quietly, pressing her smile into his bicep.

“Soon?”

“Let’s get through this season. Next summer we can talk. When we have a two year old.” Mack instantly tears up. “I hate that it goes as fast as they say.”

“Me too, baby. That’s why we will just have to keep adding to this pack.”

“That’s not the solution.” She rolls her eyes. 

“I know. I just want a ton of babies with you. Our life is so full and incredible.”

Mack smiles. 

She could do 100 more years of this life with him.

Read more Mack and David here.

[fivestaralien]

a rainy adventure

-> changbin x gn!reader

warnings +": reader does get injured from falling, changbin is just too cute!!! word count: 1018 a.n.// my first skz fic in a LONG time but I'm happy to be writing about them again:) I hope everyone enjoys! pls lmk what you think it would mean the world:) stay safe and have a good day!!

//

 “Binnie!” 

 At the sound of his name coming from your mouth Changbin has a mini heart attack. When he sees you practically plastered to the window mesmerized by the storm outside he feels his body calm down. 

 “Yes, baby? What do you need?” He comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist to pull up back into his chest. 

 “It’s raining! We should take a walk.” 

 You turn your head to see him looking out at the downpour then back at you. The pout on your face was the nail in the coffin for him. He squishes your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger kissing you gently. 

 “Go put on an extra sweater. I know you get extra cold when it rains.” He pats your hip as you walk to your shared room with a little skip in your step. 

 You meet Changbin at the front door and he wastes no time in helping you into your puffer coat and zipping it all the way up. He leaves a peck on your nose then puts on his own coat before opening the door resting his hand on the small of your back, leading you out. 

 Before either of you fully step out into the rain, you stop him and then take a hold of his wrist. He shoots you a confused look but when you hold out his and your other hand to feel the rain he softly smiles. 

 “How does the rain feel?” You question. 

 “Really nice actually.” Changbin tells you and his heart warms at how happy you look right now. 

 He knows how much you love the rain, so whenever it does he is always excited about the adventure that he knows you’ll ask him to join you on. Changbin turns you towards him, double checking that your coat was all the way up and then takes your hand, bringing the two of you fully under the dark, raining sky. 

 You walk around for a little bit enjoying the gloomy weather, until you come up to a gazebo and decide to sit on the bench for a little break. Changbin lets you sit first then plants himself as close to you as possible, his leg was practically right on top of yours. 

 “Oh! I brought something for us to eat.” Changbin rustles around in his pockets then pulls out two packages of sweet bread. One with chocolate and the other one with brown sugar. 

 “When did you get those? I didn’t even see you put them in your pocket.” 

 “I put them in when you went to change. The chocolate one is for you.” Changbin hands it to you then kisses the side of your head. 

 You open up the plastic bag and sigh with happiness after taking the first bite of the sweet treat. You felt a little chocolate stick to the side of your mouth but before you could wipe it off Changbin decided to kiss the exact spot. He smirks after pulling away and begins teasing you at how flustered you had become. 

 “Stop,” you drag out, “you’re so annoying.” Changbin laughs while you playfully shove him away from you.

 “Baby I’ve kissed you in crazier places and you didn’t get this flustered.” He continues to tease and you hit his leg this time. 

 “I’m gonna leave you in this rain if you don’t shut up.” You pout making Changbin coo and pinch your cheeks affectionately. 

 He then tilts your head to look right at him, bringing you in for a gentle kiss on the lips. When you pull away you realize that the rain had stopped causing a small frown to appear on your face. Changbin pokes at your cheeks to try and cheer you up but the pout stays. 

 “Hey, why don’t we go walk around a little bit more. It’s supposed to start raining again in a few minutes then we can go back home. How does that sound?” Changbin intertwines your hand with his and begins pulling you off the bench. 

 You smile up at him, nodding your head and easily following him out from under the gazebo. Changbin wraps an arm around your waist pulling you close to him. You lean up pressing an obnoxious kiss on his cheek then sprint away from him. He yells out for you to be careful and watch where you are going but it was too late. 

 While you were so focused on looking back at Changbin you didn’t see the sidewalk end and the slippery patch of grass begin and you were tumbling to the ground before you could even try to catch yourself. 

 “y/n!” Changbin sprints over to you, playfulness completely gone from his face. 

 He kneels down helping you sit up slowly so as to not make you feel dizzy. You feel his hand rub up and down your back and hear his continuous apologizes flooding from his mouth

 “I’m the one that fell. Why are you sorry?” You try to laugh off the embarrassment as you see a few people look over at the two of you. 

 “I should have stopped you earlier then you wouldn’t have fallen.” The look on his face kills you a little inside. 

 You cup his face with both of your hands so you could look him in the eyes, “Binnie, I love you so much but don’t beat yourself up about it. Plus, I can already hear you teasing me for this in a week from now.” 

 He smiles down at the ground, ears turning a little red at your words and nods his head lightly. You kiss him before asking him to help you up fully which he doesn’t hesitate to do. Changbin doesn’t let you go the entire way back to your place and even when you walk through the front door he has to keep a hand somewhere on your body. 

 When you settle down for the night he is quick to have you sit on his lap, cradling you against him and planting numerous kisses to your head. 

 “No more injuries for my baby.”

//

master lists , skz master list

[vanfleeter]

The Gift of Flowers - a soft Jake blurb

How he did it, you would never figure it out. He kept this talent of his a secret from you in order to keep the surprises coming your way. No matter how hard you tried, he still had you surprised whenever you went to open a cupboard door in the kitchen or walked into a different room. He was sneaky and he was determined to keep it that way. Always catching you off guard and it was one of his favorite things to do. Instead of telling you how he pulled up such a trick, he’d simply grin at you and wink. Normally his playful teasing was met with an annoyed eye roll or smacking your lips.

When the two of you had started dating a handful of years ago, he learned all of your favorite things. Movies, books, food, your favorite color, etc. He committed everything to memory. One thing he never forgot was your favorite flower.

At first he started just simply buying them whenever you two went out on dates or just because. He kept the ‘just because’ part going over the years and giving it a twist.

It was just after the first year of being together was complete and he wanted to surprise you with your favorite flowers. There was no date coming up or anything of importance, but it didn't matter to him. He did it because he loved you and because he enjoyed seeing that smile on your face when you found them.

He somehow had managed to leave your apartment very early one morning to sneak out to the flower shop to buy you flowers and hide them before you could wake up. He wanted to brighten your day so he hid a thin bouquet of flowers inside of your medicine cabinet, knowing you’d find them when you opened the mirrored door to grab your toothpaste.

He was right because you came back out to the bedroom with a shy smile on your face. He’d only smile and kiss you, shrugging his shoulders when you asked how he did it, “That’s for me to know.” He says.

“Well thank you,” You say, kissing him again. “I love them.”

“I’m glad you do,” He says.

“You won’t ever tell me your secret ways, will you?”

Jake shakes his head. “Never. It’s more romantic this way.”

He continued doing it more after that. The next time you found flowers from him, they were in the cupboard where you keep the coffee mugs. There was a bouquet of them sitting in a mug. Pulling them out of the cupboard, you smell them and smile at the sweet scent before taking out your phone and sending him a picture of the flowers.

You: How long have they been here?

Jake: Not long ;)

You: How did you get them into my apartment? You’ve been gone for three days.

Jake: I have my ways.

You: That’s creepy, but also sweet. They’re beautiful. Thank you.

Jake: You’re welcome. I’ll be home soon.

On random days you would find flowers in your car, sometimes resting on your reading chair, or a new bouquet in a vase on the kitchen counter note attached and written in Jake’s handwriting. Part of you was convinced that he was a magician, Houdini in fact, with the ways that he slipped in unnoticed, left the flowers, and slipped right back out as if he was never there.

Soon it changed from not only giving you beautiful bouquets, but he would start leaving individual flowers in the pockets of your coat. You remembered one morning on an April morning, as you put on your raincoat, you stuffed your keys into the right pocket when you felt the soft petal against your fingertips.

Pulling the flower out of your pocket, you smile when you see the beautiful color standing out against your skin. You send him the photo of the flower and he instantly replies back:

Jake: A little beauty on this rainy and gloomy day.

You smile again, sticking the flower back into your pocket and heading out into the pouring rain.

Some mornings you would wake up to a single flower placed delicately on the nightstand beside your bed. Once he left one on the pillow beside your head for you to see when you woke up the following morning. Though he refuses to go into your purse, he left a flower inside of it. You discovered it when you were looking for your wallet at the coffee shop.

As he left you flowers in the most random of places, he hadn’t realized you were saving them, hiding them away in your jewelry box. That is until he went in to retrieve a necklace to match your outfit for the evening. Lifting the lid to your jewelry box, he doesn't find your necklace or the multitude of rings you own, he instead finds all of the flowers he has given you over the years. You had cut them from their stems, storing them inside there and letting them dry out.

“I refuse to throw them out,” You say from the doorway.

“I'm surprised you kept them.” He says.

“Hmm, guess I surprised the surpriser.” You say as you kiss his cheek. “I hope you never stop surprising me with them. Though how many other places can you surprise me with them?”

“I have some ideas in mind,” He says. “But I will never stop giving them to you. I love the smile it brings to your face when you find them.”

“Hmm, guess I’ll have to take a page out of your book.” You say, leafing through the dried flowers and picking out your necklace. You place a delicate kiss on his cheek. “What's your favorite flower?”

“I don’t need flowers,” He says. “I find joy just by gifting them to you.”

You clip on your necklace before reaching up to fix the collar on his shirt. “Think of your favorite flower.. Maybe you’ll wake up to some of your own.” You wink at him, kissing his cheek once more and leaving the bedroom.

Jake looks back at the dried flowers and scoffs. “I might like tulips,” He says as he follows you out of the room.