#also skipping back up to the age question i also still kind of have the soul of a teenager so really. i get it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eccentricallygothic · 1 year

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When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.

If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)

He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.

Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️

Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm.

You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now.

Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor.

The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door.

One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.

Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.

Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.

Soldat feels something stir within himself.

Something his masters did their best to suppress.

Not that they would be doing any more of that.

They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.

His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you.

You are laughing.

At your friend that is throwing up.

Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible.

A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.

His eyes scan your form.

Beautiful.

His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;

Mine.

Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.

But he knows that it has been a long, long time.

And it's time to go home.

But a home is not walls and concrete.

It is the people that live in it.

His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.

James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal.

And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.

For what is a structure without its pillars?

He had plundered them single handedly.

And now he was a slave no more.

James would live, and he would take.

Just as had been taken from him.

You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.

As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night.

But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.

Right?

The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.

The third was the window of your room that was open wide.

But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life.

You should have taken notice of the signs.

How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem.

Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was.

Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence.

And Divine it was, you lived to learn.

When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything.

You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.

What even happened?

You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning.

But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second.

The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside.

A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.

You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.

You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.

But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly.

As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…

Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.

Your eyes widen in horror.

Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–

Or, rather, the last time you were awake.

Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen.

Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.

It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.

With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.

"Who the hell are you?"

He sighs.

"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"

The man's features scrunch in disapproval.

Your choice of words is much unappreciated.

"Good little wives don't ask questions."

In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.

Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?

He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.

After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.

He is too close.

There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.

The shock on his face is evident.

He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this.

You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.

James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.

"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.

Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.

You run without looking back.

The man is not chasing you like you expected.

But you don't want to stick around and find out why.

Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door.

You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead.

Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.

Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.

A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.

That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes.

You ran into the jungle for some cover.

Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.

Your body is weak and confused.

Many hours pass.

You wander and starve.

You hide and shake.

You tip toe and give up.

There are wild animals all around you.

You can hear them.

It's terrifying.

So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.

Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently.

"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.

He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one.

"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet.

It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home.

"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands."

He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.

"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that."

He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.

You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.

Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet.

He tells you your rules as he does so.

"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone."

Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.

But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.

A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.

"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours."

Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.

You don't give up easily, though.

You try to run more times than you can keep count.

Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.

Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.

And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery.

But you don't know when he does it.

So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern.

Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.

Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.

He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse.

James isn't so bad if you follow his rules.

He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes.

His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point.

"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?"

Today, though, something different happens.

You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.

How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.

The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.

If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning.

No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.

Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.

When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.

You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.

Has to be.

You have no choice.

And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days.

While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man.

How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.

The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep.

How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.

Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way.

You don't get him sometimes.

His morals are as mysterious as him.

Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.

Your tears don't effect him.

But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.

It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.

The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.

You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.

James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day.

After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.

Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.

Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.

"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.

It had been a proud discovery of yours.

James always gave in a little whenever you used it.

"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.

Fuck.

"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"

"What about it?"

You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.

"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.

But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.

Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.

Fuck.

Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.

Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.

You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.

The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina.

It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever.

James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.

You had done so in the past as well.

But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.

It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.

Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.

And then comes the ultimate test.

Which decides the course of your future with him.

He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.

It isn't a usual occurrence.

But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic.

While he had a metal arm himself…

You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast.

It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.

"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken.

Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.

But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.

A motorboat.

Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.

It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.

You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting.

A lot goes through your mind.

Flashbacks play before your eyes.

It is almost a full circle moment.

And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining.

His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.

"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you.

The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.

"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–"

"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy.

"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"

You two just stare at each other for a while.

No words exchanged.

Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.

"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."

He has never spoken this earnestly before.

"I just realized that I do too."

James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully.

He tightens his own arms around you gladly.

He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape.

The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.

Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.

It was a test and you passed.

As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife.

By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.

What do you think hAH-

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kaleldobrev · 7 days

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Aren't You a Little Young? (4) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 1.8k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (2x), Age Gap (15 years), Sexual tension, Asshole Cop & Sassy!Reader

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | A little bit of a shorter part | As always, thoughts are in italics and the "POV's" switch between Dean & Reader | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⬸ Go Back & Read Chapter 3

The first night (well, night was a strong word, as when the pair of you ended up finally going to bed, it was close to sunrise) sharing a bed with the older Winchester brother wasn't as awkward as you expected it to be, but the entire time you were afraid to move a muscle, as you didn't want to accidentally roll over and spoon him. But you couldn't help but wonder what he would have done if you did that. What kind of excuse would you have come up with? Would he have believed you?

You kept your back toward him, and from your peripheral, you noticed that he also kept his back toward you. You wondered if he usually slept on his side, or just stuck to that way of sleep in order to give you as much sleeping space as possible.

When you woke, it was almost 9 in the morning; a lot later than when you usually woke when on a case, but you figured you must of needed the sleep because you got four hours instead of your usual two.

You reached out your hand at the empty spot next to you, and it was still slightly warm. You felt a slight sadness, hoping that Dean hadn't left you alone in the motel room. You hoped that he would have waited for you to get up before doing anything. Then again, you didn't completely know how the man operated.

The sound of shower going on made your heart skip a beat, and you felt weirdly giddy knowing that Dean hadn't left you alone in the motel. But as you heard the shower running, you could hear something else coming from the bathroom. Is he...humming? You questioned, and then you smiled, thinking how adorable it was that someone like Dean sung or hummed in the shower.

Rolling onto your back, you looked up at the ceiling for a moment, smiling at the situation. For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace; you were happy. But that happiness and smile quickly faded when reality started to sink in. Dean was not your boyfriend, and he was never going to be. Once this case was done and over with, you'd have to go back to your apartment to your actual boyfriend. A boyfriend who you were planning on breaking up with the moment you stepped past the threshold.

Dean was barely able to get any sleep because of you. Not because you were tossing and turning, but because of how close you were to him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. You were barely a foot away from him, and all he wanted to do was reach out and touch you; bringing you close to his chest and feel your skin against his. He wanted more than anything to just stroke your cheek and give you a forehead kiss. Maybe when the case was done and over with, he could somehow find an excuse to hug you at least.

He needed to stop with the fantasies of you and him together. It was never going to happen. You were never going to actively choose to be with him, or someone like him. Maybe if he wasn't a hunter, then maybe he would of had a chance with you. Then again, if he wasn't a hunter, maybe he would have never met you in the first place. That's when he started debating with himself about whether or not meeting you was the best thing to happen to him in a while or the worst thing to happen to him in a while.

Dean sighed, shutting off the water as he prepared himself to face you this morning. He was lucky when he woke up, because you were still sound asleep next to him. You were completely curled up, and you looked so peaceful.

The ride to the police station was quick, yet painful, as he was in another confined space with you. Your perfume or whatever you wore that smelt citrusy and woodsy at the same time kept hitting his nose throughout the drive. At one point, he held his breath so he couldn't smell you, because you smelt absolutely intoxicating to him. The urge to pull over and kiss you kept hitting him.

But that was not the only part of the drive that was torture for him. During the drive, you sang along to whatever music he had playing: Zeppelin, AC/DC, Johnny Cash, you name it. You knew every single word to every single song that he played. Did Sam put you up to this somehow to make him feel better after months and months of being a demon? He shook that thought quickly out of his head, as you being a siren made the most sense to him. Then again, Sam did like to fuck with him sometimes...

Out of nowhere, you turned to him, a soft smile on your lips. "So, I was thinking, after we go talk to some of the cops and hopefully get some files at the station, we go back to that diner and actually have a sit down meal together?" You asked. The question you asked him was so innocent, but yet, he sensed a slight romantic intention behind it. Were you flirting with him? No, you couldn't have. You were dating someone and you were 15 years younger than him; there was no chance that you were. But in order to survive, he needed to say no, as much as he wanted to say yes.

"Sure," he said, and mentally cursed at himself.

"Awesome," you said, keeping that same soft smile on your lips. You turned back to the window and looked out, resting your chin on your hand as you continued to quietly hum to Deep Purple.

"Hi, I'm Special Agent Shaw, and this is my partner Special Agent Hanniger. We're here in regard to the three murder victims you've had in the last month," you stated, both you and Dean flashing your respective badges.

The officer looked at you and Dean a few times, before a confused look formed on his face. "Aren't you a little young looking to be a federal agent ma'am? You look to be jailbait to me," he said, half chuckling to himself.

All you wanted to do was roll your eyes at this jailbait comment, and reprimand him to making such a comment, but you had to keep your composure. Unfortunately, this was not the first time you had heard such a comment, and it probably wouldn't be your last.

Out of your peripheral, you noticed that Dean was about to speak, but you quickly started talking, as you felt defending yourself would sound better coming from you, than him. "Why thank you Officer. I really appreciate that comment, because I can tell that my skin care routine is really doing wonders. But, just so you're aware, the minimum age to be a Special Agent is 23, and since I first applied when I was 23, and have been a Special Agent for the past five years, I am not what you call jailbait by any means. You can even ask my partner here, as he's been my partner all five of these years."

You flashed the officer a smile, the kind of smile you gave people to let them know that you were not going to be dealing with their bullshit. Silence fell between the three of you, and out of your peripheral, you could see Dean smirking, like he was impressed by you. "Whenever you're ready, we'd like to see those case files," you said.

"Um, right, right. Uh, this way Miss...I mean, Agent. Agent," the officer said, stumbling over his words, embarrassed by the confrontation that he probably wasn't expecting from someone like you.

Dean couldn't help but experience such an intense amount of joy in the way you spoke to the officer; as he couldn't have been more proud. There was a part of him that wanted to give you a pat on the back or give a thumbs up, followed by a 'that's my girl,' but he knew he couldn't do that. You weren't his girl; you weren't his anything.

“This is Special Agents Shaw and Hanniger,” the officer said, introducing you and Dean to the coroner. The officer looked at the two of you again. “Jones here can answer any questions you have,” he said, directing his comment to you and smiling.

“Thank you,” you said nodding, as the officer headed back up the stairs, leaving you, Dean, and the coroner alone in the basement.

“Special Agents?” Jones questioned, placing his pen down on his desk. “Why does the FBI have an interest in these cases? They’re pretty cut and dry.”

“If they’re so cut and dry, why haven’t you released a cause of death yet to the public?” You questioned.

The coroner sighed. “We’re trying not to worry the public by releasing the causes,” he explained. But you weren’t taking that as an answer, as you felt that there was a deeper reasoning behind it.

“Meaning?” Dean asked, joining the conversation.

“I’m assuming the both of you read my reports,” Jones said, eyeing the two of you. You did, but you weren’t sure if Dean had the chance to glance at them at all before he switched places with Sammy.

“Yes, but your files didn’t have a whole lot of detail to them,” you stated.

“Not much I can write when the cause of death is something that’s completely unnatural for the body to do,” Jones said. “How do you explain to three separate families, that their loved ones had all of their blood drained from their bodies with no forced entry, no signs of a struggle, and no markings to indicate where the blood was drained from? If you know, I’d love to hear it.”

“Can we see the bodies?” You asked, and the coroner shook his head. “No?”

“They’ve already been cremated,” he said, almost sounding disappointed.

“Already? It’s an open serial murder investigation and the last murder happened not even three days ago.” You found it strange that there was not even one body that you and Dean could examine for yourselves.

“Although we have no leads, we wanted to give the families closure,” Jones explained. “Or do you not believe in closure Agent Shaw?”

“I do. But I’m not sure how you expect us to help you, when we don’t even have a single body to look at to see if you missed anything.” You were starting to become frustrated, annoyed at the coroner, even though you knew he was just trying to do his job — even if it was a lousy one.

You took a deep breath, and Dean took that as his cue to continue the conversation. “Can you give us copies of the autopsies you performed?”

“Yes, I can make copies for you,” Jones said, getting up from his desk. “The witness statements as well?”

“We’ll take anything that’ll be useful in finding a possible lead,” Dean said, and Jones nodded, leaving the room so he could retrieve copies of the reports.

Once the coroner left, you turned to Dean, slightly sighing. “I could really go for a beer right about now. How about you?”

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 5 (Not yet available)

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

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sunday (explicit)

genre: straight-up smut baybey, i did it y'all i wrote a pwp again

pairing: seokjin x reader

summary: you got your boyfriend exactly what he wanted for his birthday.

word count: 5k

contains: explicit sexual content~*~ say it with me: BRAT 👏 TAMER 👏 SEOKJIN 👏 established relationship, reader is uhhh 😬 Extremely bratty lmao, jin takes care of that, BDSM dynamics (mention of safewords and hand signals but neither are used!), reader gets spanked with a belt oop 🤭, fingering/a lil bit of eating it from the back, orgasm denial, big dick jin 😏, praise kink, mouth/throat fucking, a bit of breathplay, begging and apologizing, oh yeah she cries... like.... kind of a lot 🥲 there's a dacryphilia moment in there too (~*~add a little spice~*~), unprotected sex but they're in love it's fine, lots of subspace at the end, use of a vibrator, overstimulation, she comes.... idek how many times, and a smidge of aftercare 🫠 also i promise there's no food play, you'll get why the cake's there at the end ok lmao

A/N: a day late and a dollar short but hey that's my mental health rn 🫡 this was fun!!! always nice to dust off the ol' pwp muscles and frankly i've been itching to write proper BDSM for a bit now. sometimes you just wanna get the shit beat out of you lovingly and that's valid and sexy ya know. anyway feel free to silently skip this one if it's not for you!! and i know i'm gonna get a comment on it so 🙄 i used his korean age on purpose lmao 🙄 yes i can count and yes i know their system is changing~ ANYWAY i sincerely hope you enjoy babes and that you all had a lovely seokjin day 🥺 i loooove y'all !!! 💜

thank you to @haliiimede for beta reading and being my soulmate 🥺

read on AO3!

~*~

The slam of the front door tells you that your plan for today has worked perfectly.

Standing in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, you adjust a final strap on your bralette, then quickly scramble to pull your clothes back on. You attempt to keep your expression innocent as you slip down the hallway to greet your boyfriend.

Before you can even make it, you hear the unmistakable pop of a wine bottle being uncorked, and you enter the kitchen just in time to see Seokjin leaning up against the counter with a glass of white in hand. He doesn’t look particularly pleased to see you.

“Hi baby,” you say, sweet as can be. “Can I have a glass?”

A muscle works in his jaw as he looks you over, and the expression on his face already has a flame licking in the pit of your stomach.

“That's all you have to say?” he finally answers.

You blink up at him, feigning ignorance. Your heartbeat has started to race behind your ribs, sensing imminent danger— the good kind.

“I haven't heard from you all day today,” he tries again.

You shrug. “I was still sleeping when you left this morning, and then, I don't know. I was doing things. Does it matter?” If Seokjin wasn’t already pissed, you know your last question will get him. You turn away to busy yourself with retrieving a wine glass so he can’t see the smile you’re trying to bite back.

The tone of his voice makes you freeze, glass in hand. “I don't recall saying you could have any.”

Your lower lip juts out automatically, and you do your best to steady your breathing without making it apparent. Even your voice comes out a little shaky. “But we always share.”

The silence in the kitchen feels deafening, punctuated by the soft tap of Seokjin setting his glass on the counter. You mirror him, swallowing hard as he steps in to close the distance between you. It never gets any less exciting to have him tower over you, big and broad-shouldered, tall enough that you have to look up through your lashes to meet his gaze. A dull ache starts to pulse between your legs.

“Do you know what today is?”

You lick your lips and try to speak. “Sunday?”

It’s like you barely get the word out before he’s gripping your jaw with one large hand, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. Anticipation buzzes through your body, all the way down to your toes, as he forces your chin up.

“Anything else?” His voice sounds like a warning.

Your mouth pulls into a grin beneath his grasp, one you can’t quite manage to keep innocent. “Oh, Seokjin, is it your birthday? I knew I was forgetting something. Oops.”

“Fucking brat.”

All at once Seokjin locks an arm around your hips, and you let out a shrill squeak as your feet leave the floor entirely when he outright slings you over his shoulder. This is, of course, exactly what you’d hoped for, but you struggle a little in his grip nonetheless. All part of the fun.

You’d left the bedroom door cracked on your way out to greet him, and he takes the opportunity to kick it back open. A shiver runs up your spine at the sight, and then you hit the bed hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs.

You push up onto your hands as you sit up, slightly dizzy.

“That hurt, Seokjin,” you whine, but you both know you don’t mean it. You have agreed-upon methods of telling him when he’s really hurting you in a way that doesn’t feel good: safewords, even hand signals for when you’re rendered non-verbal. Anything said that isn’t one of those is just you running your mouth on purpose, winding him up. Like now. “You’re being so dramatic.”

“And you’ve got a fucking attitude today,” he snaps. “Is this really how you want to do this? On my fucking birthday?”

You blink up at him with the same sweet smile. “What if I told you I got you a present?”

This seems to surprise him a little, and he pauses, like he doesn’t quite buy it. “A present, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” You nod as you get to your feet. “Let me unwrap it for you.”

Taking your time with it, you peel off your sweatshirt and leggings to reveal the lingerie you pulled on as he was coming home. It’s a soft pink set with a floral design, thin straps, and romantic lace, and you happen to think it does wonders for your curves.

“What do you think?”

You can see the hungry gleam in Seokjin's eyes even as he scoffs, feigning disinterest. “Oh, this is my present? A disrespectful brat that I have to teach a lesson? I should rip this shit off.”

“Hey, this was expensive!” you snap, and he arches an eyebrow as if to give you a final chance to behave. It just makes you want to push him that much further.

You step closer, allowing a perfect line of sight to your tits that threaten to spill out of their confinements, and you soften your voice when you speak again. “What, you don’t forgive me, Seokjin?”

The corner of his mouth just barely ticks up. “You know the rules. Forgiveness is earned.”

He reaches a hand down to undo the buckle of his belt, and your nipples are suddenly painfully hard against the lace fabric. You can’t remember the last time he used his belt. Fuck, he’s really mad.

“Bend over.”

You huff a sigh as you drape yourself over the edge of the bed, and his hands are already on your ass. He makes a low noise of appreciation as his fingertips dig into your supple skin, pressing firm enough to make you wince. He's not being gentle, and you don’t want him to be.

Your eyes flutter closed in enjoyment of being manhandled like this, and you get so lost in it that it takes you a second to realize Seokjin has asked you a question. By then it’s already too late.

He gives a warning slap to your ass as he repeats himself. “I said, how old am I?”

You peek over your shoulder, wiggling your ass against the flat of his palm, only for him to smack you hard over your left cheek. You bite back a whimper, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“I don't know,” you lie, blinking up at him. “You’re so old now, it’s hard to remember.”

In one swift move, he yanks his belt out from around his waist, and you swallow hard as you watch him fold it over in his hands.

“Then why don’t you fucking count for me.”

The belt cracks down over your ass, and you flinch at the first real rush of pain. It takes you a second to regain focus, your brain still buzzing from the hit, and then his words come back to you.

“One.”

“So you are capable of listening, huh?”

Another hit, equally as hard on the other side, and you grit your teeth.

“Two.”

“Aw, where’d that smart mouth go? Not so chatty now?” Seokjin cracks the belt again, and you can barely get the word three out before four is being delivered just as harshly. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to breathe. He's really hitting hard tonight.

“Four,” you gasp, and you hear Seokjin exhale a dark laugh above you.

“Better toughen up, sweetheart. We’ve got a long way to go.” Another hit in the same spot, this one enough to really sting.

“Five.”

“You know, since I'm so old.”

The next blow he delivers is so hard, the word comes out as a cry of pain. “Six!”

You flatten your pelvis down against the sheets, as if in an attempt to hide from the beating, but there’s nowhere to go. The extra pressure makes you feel how hard your clit has started to throb from your punishment. You bury your face in the crook of your elbow, your hips jerking reflexively as you moan through seven, eight, nine.

Every muscle in your body seizes taut as you prepare for ten, trying to encourage yourself to breathe through it, though all you can get out right now are shallow gasps for air. I can take this, you tell yourself, I can take this.

But it doesn’t come. You’re pulled so tight you think you might snap, and you manage to lift your head up from your arms to look back at Seokjin.

“There she is,” he says, and the soft tone of his voice in no way influences how hard he brings the belt down over your ass.

“Ten!” you groan, and the sharp bite of pain over your already raw skin nearly brings tears to your eyes. And he’s not even halfway done.

It’s all you can do now to remember what number you’re on, especially as Seokjin continues to allow torturously long pauses between his hits. He'll wait just long enough that your heartbeat starts to slow, teasing the thin length of the belt up the backs of your thighs, sometimes even with a laugh.

But it’s not relief: the waiting keeps every inch of you on edge, all wound up with anticipation of the next dose of pain, so tense you’re not sure you’re breathing.

You’ve hardly choked out fourteen when you flinch at a brush of contact, the warm touch of skin where you were expecting the crack of leather. Letting your forehead drop against the bed, you pant like you’ve just run a marathon as Seokjin's hand moves over your abused flesh, groping and massaging as he did before. You can’t tell if it’s been minutes or hours since then, but his touch is grounding, calming, even when his fingers sink into your fresh bruises with enough force to make you whimper.

You can feel the way the seam of your panties sticks to your center now, and you can only imagine that they must be entirely soaked through, your slickness already starting to paint the crux of your thighs. With a soft whine of need, you spread your legs a little wider in search of anything but more pain.

“What do you think?” Seokjin's voice is dark when he speaks, thick with lust. The thought of him straining hard against his pants has you practically drooling on the mattress. You want nothing more than that cock stretching you open right now. “Starting to learn your lesson?”

As much as the rational part of you appreciates the check-in, you can’t ignore the new rush of rebellion that surges up at the question. What, does he think you need him to go easy? Does he think you’re not tough enough, that you can’t take everything he’s willing to give you?

You push up to look over your shoulder at him again, your jaw set firm. “No.”

Anger flashes over his face, but he can’t quite hide his smile. “Then I guess I can stop holding back.”

Shit, he was—? You don’t get the opportunity to finish that thought before the loop of his belt is whizzing through the air, and the impact it makes against your ass hits so hard, you momentarily see stars. “Fuck!”

“That's not a fucking number.”

“Fifteen,” you gasp, dropping limp against the bed like a ragdoll, breathless with relief that you didn’t lose track. “Fifteen.”

“The brat can count,” Seokjin remarks, and then he delivers sixteen just as hard and your whole body spasms from the pain as you choke out the number. “If only you knew how old I was, you might have some idea of how much longer I have to beat your ass.”

Your eyes are really starting to well up now, but you force yourself to keep breathing, to focus on his words. It might be coded to fit the scene, but it’s a clear reminder nonetheless: you’re more than halfway. You can do this.

By twenty, the tears have started to spill down your face, but Seokjin knows you well enough to know the scene doesn’t stop unless you call a safeword. He trusts you to know your own limits, and you do. But fuck, he can really test them sometimes. You’re dying for him to touch you, fuck you, do anything but keep fucking beating you. It’s taking everything in you to keep going, your feet kicking helplessly each time he brings the belt down over your tender backside. He hasn’t lightened the weight of his hits up even in the slightest. If anything, they’re only getting worse.

“Twenty-one,” you breathe. You only have ten hits left, and you’ve already gotten through ten hits twice now. You can do this.

“Twenty-two.” You tell yourself not to fight it.

“Twenty-three.” Just give into the pain.

“Twenty-four.” Submit.

Your shoulders heave with sobs as the twenty-fifth strike finally, finally breaks your last resolve. You press your face into the mattress; you’re crying so hard you can scarcely breathe. Even though your body keeps flinching with the reflexive animal reaction to try and get away from the pain, your mind has fully accepted your punishment, all the fight gone out of you.

It’s like someone else is counting for you now, so much so that you don’t even realize what number Seokjin is on until the words leave your mouth.

“Thirty-one.”

You hear the jingle and thud of the belt hitting the floor, and then his gentle hands are encouraging your legs to spread apart. The brush of his fingers over your aching core is sweet, overwhelming relief from the pain still coursing through your system. You’d think it’d be enough to make you cry, if you weren’t already.

“Good girl,” he says softly, and that small praise alone has you floating straight up to the ceiling.

His hands move quickly to pull your panties down and off, and you work to get your breathing back under control, letting your sobs dissolve into sniffling gulps. You whimper when his palms slip under your hips, encouraging you up onto your knees. Your body shivers all over as you try to hold yourself up, to be good, and then you feel Seokjin slip two fingers into your drenched center.

“Oh my god,” you groan as he starts to rub diligently at the ridges of your front wall, his free hand gripping your ass to spread you open. His touch in both places at once, pressing down on fresh swollen bruises and curling up into the sweetest part of you, it’s so good. It reminds you why you willingly give yourself over to this man, the one you love so much, the only one who can make you feel like this. You’re so turned on from the mix of pleasure and pain, you might be close to blacking out.

The bed creaks as he shifts a little, and then he replaces his fingers with his mouth, and you keen. You bury your sounds in the crook of your elbow as his tongue plunges into you, and he snakes a hand between your legs to rub slow circles over your clit. Your mind is reeling; you can barely manage to speak.

“S-Seokjin,” you gasp. “You’re g-gonna, ngh, gonna make me—”

He pulls off just enough to mutter, “You better fucking ask first.”

You swear he ups the intensity on purpose when his mouth returns to your pussy, as if to drag you that much closer to the edge. His thumb is working so perfectly at your clit, you can feel your thighs starting to shake as you writhe back against him. “Can I— can I please come, Seokjin? Pleaseplease, please?”

“No.”

His voice is firm, unbothered, and paired with the painful loss of his touch all at once. A strangled sob of frustration escapes you as you collapse against the bed, exhausted from holding yourself up and from your denied release.

“Not yet,” Seokjin continues. “Not until you’ve learned to be a little more obedient.”

His strong hand closes over your bicep, and he easily flips you over onto your back, causing you to hiss at the graze of your sore flesh against the sheets. Your lower lip trembles, your eyes threatening tears as you stare up at him, but you stay quiet.

“Be a good girl,” Seokjin says, dragging one finger up the column of your throat. You willingly tip your head back for him as a shiver rolls through you. “Let me fuck this smart mouth, then I’ll make you come as many times as you can handle. Okay?”

When you nod softly, he hauls you up to your feet. “Get on your knees.”

You do as he says, sitting back on your heels and watching as he works his pants and boxers down to free his cock. He’s thick and long, flushed dark and dripping hard. Big enough that you go slightly cross-eyed trying to take him in. Your cunt clenches desperately at his size, at how badly you need all of him inside you, bottoming out into you again and again.

But even moreso, you want to be good.

“Mouth open,” Seokjin instructs, and you comply, letting your tongue loll out for him as he tangles a hand in your hair.

He guides himself between your lips, and your eyes roll back at the weight of him on your tongue, the feeling of your jaw stretching open to fit him. He’s so fucking big, it’s uncomfortable, but you do your best to breathe around him and give into it.

Trying to hold still, hands placed sweetly on your thighs because you know he likes it that way, you blink up at Seokjin as he starts to thrust into your mouth. You can taste the salt of his precum as his length drags along your tongue, and you fight back the urge to gag when the tip of his cock nudges into the back wall of your throat. He groans softly as he rubs himself there, his grip on your hair tightening until the pain stings your scalp. Your eyes start to water as you try to keep yourself from choking.

“Fuck,” he hisses when he pulls out, saliva stringing in thick strands from your mouth to the head of his cock. He squeezes at the base of it, eyes glazed dark with lust, and you take in as much air as you can, the cool rush painful where your throat is sore from the stretch of him.

You sit up taller as if to ask for more.

Seokjin’s gaze meets yours as the hand on his cock guides it back toward you, but he doesn’t slip back into your mouth. His eyes are fixated hungrily on your face as he drags the head of his dick down over your bottom lip, teasing it around your mouth and along your cheeks, clearly enjoying that he can do whatever he wants with you.

Your pulse drums loudly in your ears as you sit there, mouth open, and take it. The whole lower half of your face must be slick with spit and precum now, given how easily he glides across your skin, and then you’re hit with the heavy thud of him smacking his cock once, twice, three times against your flat, willing tongue.

“Are you done being a brat now?” he prompts, and you can feel drool spilling down your chin as you nod, his cock still weighing heavy on your outstretched tongue. He slips it in a little further, just past the ring of your lips.

“Gonna be a good girl for me?”

A soft whine escapes around his girth filling your mouth. You nod again, desperate, and then he hits the back of your throat with enough force to make you gag noisily. Your body shudders beneath him, and you try to keep it together.

“Learned your fucking lesson?”

Tears start to sting at the corners of your eyes as he keeps sliding himself into your mouth, the head of his cock dipping down into the tight clutch of your throat, as far as he can go until your nose is flush with his abdomen. You can’t make another sound, your mouth crammed too full, but you do your best to nod even as you lose the ability to keep breathing.

Seokjin’s thumb brushes over the bulge in your throat, and you know what he wants. Tears slip down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut and swallow around him, and he rewards you with an unabashed moan that lights up everything inside you.

“That’s it. You look so good when you cry on my cock,” he rasps, his hand closing over your throat as you swallow again.

You can feel yourself starting to get light headed from lack of oxygen as more tears stream down your face, but the praise spurs you on. You want it too much, it makes you eager to please at any cost, despite the dizzying surge of adrenaline, despite the way your throat is spasming painfully now. You’ll pass out with his cock down your throat, if that’s what it takes.

He pulls out all at once, and the rush of air you heave in is like broken glass against your raw throat. You fall forward, your palms just barely catching you from landing directly onto your face, and you can’t do anything for a moment but breathe in ragged, shaky gasps. Tears are still welling up in your eyes, dripping down onto the carpet beneath you.

Your world tilts as Seokjin easily scoops you up in his arms just to drop you onto the bed, flat on your back. There’s still the dull ache of the bruises he beat into your ass, but it’s like someone’s turned the volume down on it. All your physical sensations seem distant, like they’re happening to someone else, even the dull ache thudding between your legs, a desperate desire to come that was only made worse by being used as your boyfriend’s fucktoy.

Your eyes flutter closed as his hands slip up your body to undo your lacy bralette and peel it off of you, and you don’t fight it.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Seokjin's voice pulls you back from the edge, and you fight to open your eyes again. He's hovering over you, fully stripped now, his brow creased slightly with concern. “Stay with me a little bit longer, okay?” His tone is still serious, and you sniff softly as you nod.

He slips a palm encouragingly under your thigh and you do the rest, so out of body that it’s like you weigh nothing at all as you pull your knees up to effectively bend yourself in half for him. He practically growls at the sight of you spread for him so willingly, presenting a cunt swollen with need, painted glossy with arousal.

You watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he kneels up on the bed, and then his thick cock is grinding over you, dragged right up your center. The feeling of finally being touched where you need it most has you exhaling a moan of relief.

“Is this what you want?” Seokjin's breath is hot on your neck and chased by the scrape of his teeth, earning another noise of pleasure from you. Your clit throbs as he rolls the head of his dick over it, up and down, slow teasing.

“Yes,” you manage to gasp. Your voice comes out a little broken from your scraped-up throat. “Yes, please. Please fuck me, please, want it so bad.”

“Which do you want more?”

You’re so gone, choking on whimpers and whines, that his hand closes over your throat to make you focus on the rest of his question. The look on his face is so dark, it sends a shiver down your spine.

“My dick, or my forgiveness?”

Tears spring to your eyes immediately as an overwhelming wave of emotions floods through you. There isn’t a doubt in your mind what your answer is, you don’t even have to pause to consider it. As badly as you want, need him to fuck you, the thought of Seokjin discarding you when he’s finished, still upset, not kissing every inch of your skin, not praising you for being so good… you can’t bear it.

“Your forgiveness,” you sob, doing your best to keep breathing despite his hand around your throat. “Please, please, please forgive me. I'm so sorry. I just wanna be good, wanna be good for you, I don't need anything else.”

You can see his face soften even through the tears that blur your vision. “There she is,” he murmurs, and then he tips his head down to brush his lips over yours. The warm touch of his mouth is all the reward you could ever ask for, and he sucks sweetly on your bottom lip before pulling back.

“Good answer, babygirl.”

Before you can even process what’s happening, he’s fucking the whole of his thick cock into you, and you can only keen as he stretches you wide enough to fit all of him. Your walls are immediately trembling tight to him from how edged close you’ve been all night.

“Thank you,” you moan, your head dropping back against the pillow. A gasp rips through you as he bottoms out, your spine arching when the crown of his cock presses firmly on your cervix. “Thank you, oh fuck.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin purrs, his mouth against your collarbone. You think he might be sucking a mark into your skin, but it’s already getting hard to tell what’s happening. “You always take it so well after I beat the brat out of you. Let go now, baby. You’ve earned it.”

You’re grateful for the permission, because you’re not sure you could stay tethered any longer if you tried. Not when he’s splitting you open, thrusting hard and deep because he knows you can take it, with a cock fat enough to light up every sweet spot in you at once. Your eyes roll back as you start to float, so out of it that you barely even notice a faint buzzing sound until you realize Seokjin is pressing your vibrator down against your swollen, aching clit.

Fuck, when did he even grab it off the nightstand?

You’re vaguely aware of someone moaning, but it doesn’t even feel like you. You’ve given up entirely to it now, a sweet surrender to this all-encompassing pleasure. It’s so good, too good, it slips you out of your mind and body alike, like he’s fucking your brain right out of your skull.

“That’s it, come on my cock,” Seokjin groans, and fuck, you are, you’re coming hard enough to drench his cock with every pulse of your needy cunt. “Such a good girl.”

He doesn't even pull the toy off to give you a moment of recovery, just keeps it nestled between your folds as he pounds into you. Your hips shudder violently as you coast out of your first climax and straight into another one.

It all starts to blur together now, wave after wave of orgasm washing over you until you’re drowning in it. You come and come and come until it feels like you’re melting into the bed, pinned through by this massive cock and the endless mind-numbing buzz on your clit. You can distantly tell that you’ve soaked a wet spot into the sheets beneath you, that your thighs and even the muscles of your ass are shaking from overstimulation.

“S-S-Seokjin.” It takes you three tries to get his name out, and you’re still not really sure if you said it until the toy switches off. The humming sensation is still reverberating through your body even in the absence of it, enough to make you tremble all over as he picks up the pace.

“Gonna fucking— fill you up,” Seokjin grunts, voice thick with effort, and then his cock twitches at the very back of you, buried deep as it can go, pulsing heavy as he paints you with rope after rope of his release.

You’re still not here, not really, not when he pulls out with a heavy sigh, when the cum starts to drool down your legs, when he drops onto the mattress beside you and pulls you into him. It comes back to you in pieces: you’re shivering all over, breathing hard, your face is wet— fuck, when were you crying?

It takes you several moments to realize Seokjin is murmuring in your ear, that his fingers are carding through your hair, his breath ghosting over your skin. “Just breathe, baby. Did so well, it’s over now. You’re safe.”

As the post-scene comedown settles into your bones, you bury your face into his shoulder, trying to breathe through the myriad of emotions and chemicals flooding your system. He pulls the blanket up over your chest, and the warmth of it and his body help to gently bring you down from the high.

You don’t know how long you lay like that until you finally manage to squeak out a question. “Y-you’re not really mad, right?”

Seokjin laughs gently as he presses a kiss to your hairline. “No, baby. I know you didn’t really forget. The birthday cake in the fridge kinda gave it away.”

The words take a second to hit you, and then a dazed giggle bubbles up in your chest. It’s like you’re floating as you start to laugh, your face still pressed into Seokjin’s skin, and you can feel the rumble of him laughing too. It didn’t even occur to you that he would’ve seen the fucking cake when he grabbed himself a bottle of wine.

“Oh,” is all you can think to say, and you keep giggling as his lips move over the line of your jaw, trailing kisses.

“You’re cute when you’re trying to get punished,” he says softly. “It's part of why I love you. You’re my perfect little brat. And this was the perfect gift, seriously.”

A warm glow blooms in your chest at the praise, and you sigh happily as you curl up against his side. “Can we eat cake in bed?”

Seokjin leans down to brush his mouth over yours, sweetly adoring. “Anything you want.”

#seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #seokjin x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #💜 happy seokjin day 💜

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sunny-mercya · 10 months

Text

Sensitive Heart

Poly! Billy Loomis & Stu Macher x Male Reader

Fandom -> Scream 1996

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

Sidney had become quick to learn, that you're a rather sensible—if not even overstimulated sensitive—boy.

Most things; be it a large crowd, people accidentally bumping into you or someone saying something you had difficulty to understand—hell, even the most mundane compliment; you look really good today—brought you to tears.

And on some days, wether if they are bad or good ones, you would cry for an eternality of hours—exhausting yourself with a sore throat sobbing.

Throughout the school years, you had spend more time in the nursery office thanks to this—whatever and however it's called, Sidney doesn't bother to remember—than being actually injured.

Tatum, who had heard from Stacy—and she had it being told from Mackenzie, who had gotten told it from Helena—the nurses daughter—told Sidney once, that your over sensitivity of personality has been coming from your mother.

Your mother who had pampered you into a suffocating and constant anxious panic. She was a kind soul, with her off shrugging absently affectionate, but treating you well still.

Although, when you were at the age of ten—having been in the hospital again, because of your mother—your father had enough, filled a divorce and complete custody over you and told his ex-wife to leave.

So now, Sidney had to endure your tears filled stuttering jumble of words while accompanying you, yet again, to the nurse office.

Please god, she thought, end me. Holding back a groan, simply nodding along to what you're trying to say. If she's telling you to shut up, you would probably cry a flood then.

~~~

The cold wet washcloth always felt good over your burning irritated eyes. Cooling them off and bringing a sort of pain relief to them.

Mrs. Westbrock had left the office, after assessing you down onto the bed and giving you a glass of water and headache-pills. Nothing new, a normal occurrence for you to be alone—till school hours ended—in the nurse office, when you had another rather server breakdown episode. Then again, every episode brought you to the office.

»Aww, at this point you should ask the Director to let you live rent-free here« Stu did his best to lower his voice, when stepping in. Knowing well how headache prone you would get and he also knows how loud his voice can be.

It must be lunch break or a free period or study all, otherwise Billy and Stu wouldn't be able to visit you. Then again, you wouldn't put it pass them to just skip a lesson or two—and you knew they had done already more than once.

»What was it this time babe?« asked Billy, sitting down onto the chair. Someone would say his tone, when asking you this question, is coming off as annoyed, rude and tutting. It wasn't. It was Billys way of asking you how you are and what the cause was.

You shrugged at him, rubbing your eyes and sitting up a bit—letting Stu prep kisses onto your face.

»I.....don't really remember anymore.«

Billy hummed, knowing well it was lie of you, watching you and Stu, the both of you conserving now over some Cartoon.

»Did Jules brought you here?«

»Nu-uh, it was Sydney,«

Billy nodded, they all were somewhat friends with Sidney, though somehow she always seemed to be irritated annoyed by your mere presence—not that you took notice if it, always busy to greet everyone happily, even when it was hard to do for you.

»[Name]. Tell us, what made you cry.« a bit demanding harsh he sounded, but how would he know if Billy didn't use a dominant force to bring you to speak.

»It, it–it was, someone talked about–about how killing is, is–is something and I got upset over it, because they talked so causally about it, but killing is–is–is bad and taking–taking a humans life is cruel«

You broke into another, new, round of tears. Sobbing into Stu's arms, who cooed at you lovely and giving you sloppy kisses on the cheeks again.

Oh, how innocent sweet you are. Thinking so naively and thoughtful about the world. Aren't you adorable?

~~~

It was weeks after, when Sidney came to the conclusion that the ominous masked—dubbed as Ghostface—killer, who tried to killer her, is Billy Loomis.

Sidney, when she got the chance, pulled you into an empty classroom, cornering you. Doing her best to look as threatening as she could, to make you confess.

She always found it strange how Billy (and Stu) could love someone like you—someone who's a crybaby, skittish and meek in personality. Too Sensitive for a boy to be.

But then she thought, you're the perfect alibi for Billy or perhaps even someone who knows that Billy is the murder.

»You know Billy is the killer, don't you [Name]?«

»What? What are you talking about Syd?«

»It's Sidney. Billy is the killer and you're either good at pretending to play clueless dumb, which you are though, or you're his partner. There aren't any other options.«

Sidney hated it how you pronounced her name so dumbly wrong. It's a simple name, how hard could it be to say it right? Apparently hard enough for you.

»Accusing someone, a friend even, of something so horrific is a cruel thing to do.«

»Oh? I didn't knew you could speak english without stuttering in sobbing.«

Your lips begun to wobble, biting softly onto them to stop the starting trembling—which would soon racked through your whole body. Eyes getting wet, tears ready to spill.

Sidney had no rights to accuse Billy like this and neither had she the right to be this mean to you. You hadn't done anything to make her upset, so why does she say such things?

She clicked her tongue in annoyance, gripping your arm tight when you were about to bold off.

»We both know I'm right. Whether you like it or not.«

You freed yourself from her, jerking your arm out of her grasp and bolting out of the room. At some point colliding with Jules, who was looking for you, scrambling up again and running even faster away.

A lie. It's a complete conspiracy bullshitting lie, what Sidney had said to you. It wasn't true, Billy isn't a killer.

~~~

»I'm home!« greeted Billy once he had open the front door and stepped in, closing if afterwards. Getting out of his jacket and hanging it up on, he made his way towards the kitchen.

Leaning against the frame of the kitchen-door, Billy watched you, smiling at the sight of you cooking today's lunch—dancing slightly to the music which the radio plays.

»You need help, darling?« he admits, spooking you up like this was—the way how you jerked together into surprise—always a fun thing to do.

»Oh, Billy! How was work? Sure sure, you can set the table and please get Stu« you pecked his lips, when he leaned down, snatching a piece of bacon from the cutting board.

»Where is he?«

»Upstairs, doing the laundry.« you had long returned to the cooking, resuming with what you had stopped.

Billy passed through the living room, stopping at the commode in the hallway, next to the stairs.

Photo frames over photos frames filled the commode, telling their own stories—from their graduation, first house, to marriage, to their honeymoon and then to their Kids and their first kindergarten and school day to the here and now.

There was one photo in particular, which both Stu and him are very found of. It still confuses the kids, who couldn't figure out why a photo of you crying was a found memory to keep and share.

To the kids they had told a story of how they always found it adorable, just how bunny like you were and wanted to capture the moment.

In truth though, it was the moment when the broke you—your spirit of will—and had you forever to love.

It was after Sidney had inflicted your pure heart with self-doubt and questionable unbelief towards Billy. You confronted him, breaking out in hysterical when Billy bluntly admits it with a shrug and when you were about to call the police—Stu stepped in, holding you tight in his arms as you trashed in his hold and shouting words at them you never wished to say again.

They had to break a few of your bones, scaring and threatening you completely in submissive—because if they don't, you wouldn't be able to continue with going to school with them and enjoy life, if they didn't had done it this way—they had to kill you and that would be a shame. After all you're their precious little darling.

It took a few years—after framing someone else for their killings and making Sidney an implausible witness in the polices eyes—to shape you into what your are now; a good submissive husband, who showers them in unconditionally love.

»[Name]'s adorable, isn't he Bills?« Stu trotted down the stairs, flashing a grin at Billy.

»You're right, he really is. I was just about to get you, laundry-boy«

»Funny, man. Urgh, my back hurts. I never do laundry again«

After lunch, when the kids had retired into their rooms or going out to spend time with friends. You and your husbands sat on the couch, cuddling against another and watching another round of romance movies.

Even after all these years, you couldn't stop your sensitivity and the spilling tears from your eyes.

Billy and Stu wouldn't have it any other way. They adored you how you are, in their eyes you're perfect.

»Have I told you, just how–how much I love–love you two?« you asked them in between sobs, romantic movies always made you so moody.

»You do plenty of times, precious. We love you just as much in return.«

Both Billy and Stu pressed a kiss against your lips, tasting your salty tears.

You're their little bunny.

#male reader #x male reader #fanfiction #malereader #oneshot #scream 1996 #scream x male reader #scream #poly! billy loomis & stu macher x male reader #billy x stu x male reader #poly! billy and stu x male reader #billy loomis x male reader #stu macher x male reader #stu macher #billy loomis

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youcouldmakealife · 4 months

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KS Fill: Vinny/Tony; blanket monsters

Another Kickstarter fill -- a request for more of Vinny and Tony gets some postseason flavour.

Everyone always told Thomas that with age came maturity. He’s been waiting for for that to happen to him — kind of hoping it’ll skip him, truthfully, but still waiting — but so far it hasn’t kicked in.

Thomas doesn’t think anyone ever told Anton that phrase. Or, if they did, he decided to go the other way out of spite.

What did come with age, Thomas thinks, is handling playoff exits differently. Or maybe it’s experience, but either way, it doesn’t feel like it did in his twenties. It doesn’t hurt less, he doesn’t think, but he has a sense of perspective that he didn’t have when he was younger and it felt like the entire world had crashed around his feet. He’s not sure Tony has that, though. He isn’t sure how much perspective you can get from inside a blanket fort. Or, maybe not a fort. Fort makes it sound like there was planning, and implementation, and also probably fun?

There was no fun involved in this blanket structure. There isn’t very much structure either. It’s mostly just a pile of blankets twisted around a very cranky man. Still, Thomas figures it’s better to be inside it than looking on from the outside, worrying about if Tony’s gotten stuck in there, all twisted up, but is too proud to call of help, or if he’s getting enough air. There are a lot of blankets piled on their bed right now, so many Thomas can barely find Anton in the pile, which is impressive, considering Anton is a very large man.

Thomas doesn’t want to startle him, but he can’t really knock on Anton’s current setup either. He considers, then taps his knuckles gently against what he thinks might be Anton’s shoulder. “Knock knock,” he adds, just so Anton doesn’t assume he’s just prodding a man while he’s down.

The top blanket opens just enough for him to see a flash of flinty blue eye, then closes again.

“Who’s there?” Thomas says. He doubts Anton has patience for banana, but maybe he can catch him off-guard with a short one. The twins have taught Thomas all of their favourites, and obviously he can’t use the French ones, but they had a few in English too. Interrupting cow’s pretty funny, but Anton has to participate for Thomas to interrupt, which puts a wrench in things.

“A loser,” the pile mutters, and Thomas has to take a sharp breath in so he doesn’t laugh. If he laughs, this blanket pile is on the move, and there's no way Thomas will be joining it.

“Can I come be a loser too?” Thomas says.

The eye’s back. “You’re not a loser,” he says.

“Lost the same series you did,” Thomas says.

Anton’s eye disappears, and Thomas considers more extreme methods — Anton’s stronger than him, but he’s also ticklish, and probably won’t punch Thomas if he goes for his sides, at least not on purpose — when the blanket opens wide enough that Thomas can just barely crawl in. It’s dark in the blanket pile, and hot, humid with Anton’s breath. Thomas makes sure to keep a sliver of blanket open behind him to let in some light and fresh air, and he can see Anton notice him doing it, considering whether to argue that losers don’t deserve light or oxygen.

Thomas bets if it was just Tony in here that opening would already be shut, but now that Thomas is here too, Tony’s stuck — punishing himself means punishing Thomas, and only likes doing one of those. At least, that’s what Thomas is counting on.

“Only one blanket monster allowed, I thought,” Thomas says, and Anton shrugs, their blanket surroundings shifting with the movement.

“That was a hard one,” Thomas says. He spent it on the bench, but that didn’t make it any less hard — watching the final game stretch out of reach, not able to do anything but open and close the bench door for his increasingly dispirited teammates — that’s hard. Hard in a different way than being in the net, but not really less, he’s learned. No matter what, you end up questioning what would have happened if things had been a little different.

“I thought we had it this year,” Tony says softly. “I really thought we did.”

“I know,” Thomas says.

“I wanted to win it with you,” Anton says. Unspoken, that Thomas’ contract is up this summer, that fan favourite or not, Thomas is in his thirties, and there are prospects who deserve a shot waiting in the wings. Unspoken, that he doesn’t want Thomas to retire empty handed. Thomas doesn’t want that either, but even if he does, it was a good one. He wouldn’t trade it for anywhere else, even if a Cup was guaranteed in the bargain.

“I wanted to win it with you too,” Thomas says, and when Anton reaches for him, trying to wrap himself up, surround himself with Thomas the way he surrounded himself with blankets, Thomas does his best to oblige.

#fic snippet #thomas vincent #anton petrov

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oliveisme533 · 8 months

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My dad's neighbor is a dilf

Chapter 2

Joel Miller x you

Summery: You had decided to spend your summer in Austin with your dad. You used to spend almost every summer there, but hadn't spent a summer there since you were a teenager. Which means you hadn't seen a certain Joel Miller in years..

Warnings: Verbally abusive boyfriend. Talks of mental health and self harmI will put a sign for what paragraph to skip if you want to avoid that content

Of fucking course Ben would call you... your rub your temple and groan. "It's too late for this shit" you mutter to yourself and flick off the light with a little more force than you intended.

Sunday morning you slept in. It wasn't until about 11:00 that you heard your dad banging around in the kitchen downstairs. You drag yourself out of bed, highly motivated by the smell of coffee making its way to your nose. As your feet hit the landing toilet freeze, the fog of sleep dissipates instantly and your insides turn to liquid. "It's really no problem! I can have it fixed in a couple hours, plus you don't want to wait around with that kind of shit. It can turn into a much bigger problem real quick if you don't take care of it soon" that was Joel's voice. What is Joel doing in your kitchen at 11am on a Sunday?!! Especially when he was just here..last night? Do him and my dad really spend that much time together?? You contemplate running back upstairs but then your dad catches a glimpse of you before you can execute your plan. "Well hey babydoll! Didn't know if you were still alive up there" you offer him a grunt in response as you make your way to the coffee pot. "Good morning to you too" he laughs. "Oh hey, the water is going to be shut off in a bit because there's a leak in the water pipes upstairs. Joel said he would take care of it so water should be back on in an hour or so." "Do you just call Joel instead of a plumber these days?" You question your dad with a raised eyebrow. He chuckles "no, I basically sent him a text this morning asking for his opinion on whether or not this needed to be fixed asap or it was no big deal. I was going to call someone on Monday, but he insisted". Your dad lowered his voice slightly as he then said "between you and me...I think he's trying to stay real busy these days. I know having Sarah with her mom for the summer has been a really hard adjustment for him" that seemed logic enough to you and you said as much to your dad before Joel came back through the front door carrying several tools.

"Well good morning sunshine" he said with a smile that stirred inside of you. "One of these days I oughta teach your dad how to be useful around the house so he can carry on without me" "yeah you two are like a married couple" you joked. Joel chuckled "mmm well who could resist this handsome man" he said gesturing to himself. You rolled your eyes "you're old" it was a cheap shot, but also you secretly would admit his age because you were curious. He laughed and said "yeah Sarah says the same to me" but he didn't say anything else. He walked out of the kitchen and began up the stairs towards the leaky pipe or whatever the hell he was here to fix. As soon as he was out of sight you flung your head back "why...why couldn't dad just call a freakin plumber" you resolved to deal with the Ben situation after you had some breakfast in your stomach. It was not something you were particularly looking forward too, but you knew he wouldn't let up until you responded. Sure you could block him, but it wasn't like he was some tinder date gone wrong. You two had spent years together, not to mention you were adults who needed to handle the situation like adults and not take the easy way out.

After breakfast you found an outfit that wasn't an old t-shirt and shorts with little owls on them. You were still mortified that Joel saw this look. "Okay you can do this" you breathed, picking up your phone and tapping Ben's name." Of course he picked up almost immediately. "Hey.. how are you?" You responded politely, but quickly veered the conversation to what he really wanted to talk about. "Well, I've been thinking. I really think you and I are meant to be together. It just feels right, and I know I haven't always been the best at showing up or just being a good boyfriend in general, but now I really feel I'm ready for that level of commitment" there was a short pause

"listen, Ben ... I just don't see it that way. I've spent too much time over the years being disappointed by your actions. I've broke my own heart so many times because I convinced myself you were really going to change and then to I didn't. I can't do that anymore. We're too old for this. I'm glad you feel like you're ready to commit and I hope you find a girl who is too, but at this point in my life I just can't offer you that." You had feared he would be angry, but weren't prepared for what came next. ⚠️CW⚠️ "Are you fucking serious?? Like after all these years you're just going to throw all that away?! Like honestly I didn't need to come back and give you another chance but I did and" "GIVE ME another chance?!! What the fuck Ben..HOW do you even see it that way??" "WHAT DO YOU MEAN??" He shouted back "babe I have put up with so much of your shit over the years and now I'm saying that it doesn't matter and I'm going to stick around regardless of all that!" Oh now he has crossed a line "MY SHIT?! WHAT, PRAY TELL ARE YOU REFERRING TOO?!" "I have had to do SO MUCH for you like when your mental health is bad you just shut off completely. It's like trying to be in a relationship with a fucking wall! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD THAT IS...WHAT KIND OF TOLL THAT TAKES ON ME." Hot tears of anger were streaming down your cheeks. "I CANNOT believe you said that! Did you ever consider how hard it is FOR ME in those times?! Like honestly Ben you only think about yourself." "Oh really is that why I took off work so I could drive you to the hospital when you slit your wrists and you called me, crying?? Obviously that shows I care for you! You cannot tell me I only care about myself when I had to do that kind of shit for you!" Your chest was now rising and falling very rapidly. You certainly were not thinking about how loud you were being right now, but luckily your dad was outside mowing the lawn, well out of earshot. "Ben that is the bare MINIMUM A PERSON CAN DO. Like you're really hanging that over my head??! fucking grow up! God FORBID YOU TAKE THE TIME TO DRIVE ME TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM DURING THE WORK DAY. How about we talk about all the shit I've done for YOU over the years." You could now hear him laughing. A hollow laugh, but a laugh all the same. "Oh DONT EVEN. What could you POSSIBLY have done to compare to me being your GODDAMN NURSE when you're a grown adult." It was all too much. You were all but sobbing at this point. "You are such an ASSHOLE Ben! Don't EVER call me again! THIS IS OVER. I will NEVER love you and you will NEVER speak to me this way again. If you so much as text me...I'm going to get fucking restraining order!" You choked out. "A RESTRAINING ORDER ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?? My dads a literal LAWYER you know that right babe?! I'm NOT going to let that happen!" "Do you even hear yourself right now??! LEAVE ME THE. FUCK. ALONE."

End of CW

You hang up the call and crumple to your bed with heaving sobs. You are interrupted by a knock on your door. Presuming it's your dad you walk over to open in and all but fling yourself out the door way knowing he's standing right then ready to hold you. Hug you and tell you everything will be okay like you're 13 or something. The blurred your vision and it was not your dad on the other side of the door. Your head hit his chest and you flung your arms up around his neck. "Dad I hate boys!" You sobbed. But then you realized the height wasn't right, the smell wasn't right, the arms and chest weren't right...

you practically jumped backwards and to your horror saw Joel Miller standing before you. His soft puppy dog eyes heavy with concern and care. "I-um sorry. I assumed it was my dad or I never would have" Joel held up a hand to cut you off. "It okay, you don't need to apologize...I've got a daughter of my own don't think I haven't had the same hug and those same tears." His voice was soft and gentle, and he smiled at the last comment. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay." You could only nod. "It's none of my business, but this guy sounds like bad news and it's a matter of your safety...does your dad know about all this?" You nodded again. "Yes he knows about Ben...although I'll need to update him on the new low that Ben stooped to today. But my dad knows and I feel safe...and in blocking Ben's number." Joel's brows were knit together. "Okay...I don't need to know about but your dad does and it sounds like you've got a good thing going there." You felt awkward and more than anything wanted to disappear and forget this interaction ever took place. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other and picked at your fingers "um yeah I think everything with be fine now" you said awkwardly. "Alright well I apologize for intruding into your private life, but I'm glad you're safe and under your dads roof." He started to walk away when you heard yourself say "Thank you Joel..I really appreciate it."he smiled at you and said "don't mention it" "You better finish up fixing that leak before my dad finds something else to break." Joel laughed "don't worry I'm just about done and I'll be out of yalls way in a jiffy." What a day... and it's only noon

#lovers #joel tlou #joel miller #smut #fanfic #joel and ellie #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff

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kitty-tea · 2 months

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Why do you hate me

Severus Snape x reader

Wc: 5.1k

Here’s the second and finale part. Requested by multiple people here and ao3. I’m so happy I finally got around to writing it!

Warnings: Super angsty, crying, age gap, physical violence, mentions of abuse, some spiciness, but no actual smut because I’m trying to keep the entire story pg-13 in the romance department

Link to masterlist

Link to part one

Why do you hate me? That question didn’t stop plaguing Severus Snape’s mind as he left you in the corridor after he… did something you weren’t expecting him to do. He wasn’t expecting himself to kiss you either. Ever. It was an impulsive decision that he had to run away from as soon as he had sobered up from the intoxicating taste of your lips. It wasn’t just the taste he couldn’t get out of his mind throughout the day, it was how soft they were as you kissed him back. Even though you showed no signs of resisting him, he still felt guilty about kissing you without your permission. He knew he stepped over the line he should never have crossed. He couldn’t just get through the rest of the school year and look at you without being reminded of that kiss. He felt awful that it had to be him who kissed you and not someone who deserves you more than he did.

His solution was to avoid you in order to get himself away from the guilt. He knew he should’ve apologized for how he had treated you in the past, but he didn’t think you’d ever forgive him. How could he deserve your forgiveness?

For as long as he’d known you, it never made sense to him why you were placed in Slytherin when you couldn’t be any more different from the rest of them. He supposed your pure-blood lineage had something to do with it. He also knew who your parents were. He met them when he first became a Death Eater, and not that much long after, he became your teacher.

As his student, he never shied away from treating you with the same distaste as he did with students from other houses. What irked him the most about you was how kind you tried to be to everyone who was supposed to be seen as being beneath you. He saw that as a sign of weakness.

It wasn’t difficult for him to figure out your parents were the same Death Eaters he met as a young man even though they never mentioned having a daughter. He could only assume that they didn’t like you which made sense considering how different your personality was from theirs. You still had their last name, and you looked like them.

He thought after you had graduated that he’d never have to see you again, but that night Dumbledore introduced you as a new teacher, he was shocked at how wrong he was proven to be.

He couldn’t believe it was you sitting next to him after not seeing each other for years. This time you were his equal. During those three years, Snape noticed you… changed a lot. Except for the happy personality you put out. He also hated how his heart skipped a beat in front of you for the first time at the moment you smiled at him.

After that, every time he’d see you around the school, that same feeling kept coming back inside him, making him feel like he was being lured in by a siren until he broke out of your control that you didn’t even know you had over him. Every time you were in a room together, his eyes were magnetized to wherever you were. His attraction towards you was growing at an alarming rate, and he wasn’t pleased at all.

You were the complete opposite of him: gentle and kind while he was cruel and callous, something he’d gotten used to everyone seeing him as.

Another thing he didn’t understand about you was how you never grew to act bitter and resentful like him after everything he put you through, especially with how he had passed on to you the anger from the trauma he had experienced in school and at home.

Maybe fate had a reason to bring you two together again, to make him recognize the regret he should’ve felt for how he treated you. And he did, which was why he felt like he couldn’t be in your presence anymore after he had kissed you.

Not only was he filled with regret for how he had treated you, but he was also filled with regret for kissing you. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy it because he did. That’s what made him regret it in the first place. It was too overwhelming for him to think about.

What was a relief for him was the fact that he had managed to successfully avoid you for the rest of the school year, even if you had to be in the same room together, you were never alone with him. He didn’t know what he would do if that happened.

No matter how much he tried averting his gaze, you were always that temptation that burned a hole in his peripheral vision. He could feel your eyes on him, a curious gaze, nothing malicious, but making that hole burn deeper.

Every time he had accidentally become trapped in your gaze, he could read the endless questions you had in your eyes even without using magic: why did you kiss me? Why are you ignoring me? Am I that horrible?

No, you weren’t horrible. It was he who was horrible. He had always been too harsh on you. You were clearly too pure and innocent to be associated with someone like him.

As soon as the school year was over, Snape felt relieved that he was guaranteed to never see you again. Or so he thought.

You didn’t tell your students why you were leaving, but Snape had to take a guess that it was because the remaining Death Eaters who weren’t imprisoned had likely tried coercing you in an attempt to join them, scaring you off.

It wasn’t until after you graduated from school that your parents had officially acknowledged your existence to him long after he was able to connect the dots of your relation to them. In short, the less than savory things he read about you in their letters only confirmed his suspicions about them acting as if you didn’t exist earlier. At first Snape didn’t know if he should empathize with you; you were treated worse by your parents as a child than he had been by his. In the end, when he reunited with you as a teacher, he decided to continue to treat you the same as he always had, a reflection of his bitter self he couldn’t let go of and grow past.

After the school year, Snape thought that not seeing you was enough for him to get you off his mind, but he should’ve realized that your parent’s letters to him were a constant reminder of your existence for the past three years since you left his life for the second time. He now had to dread the inevitability of seeing you again after being summoned by your parents to your family home. He wasn’t sure if you were hiding out there, but he liked to think you were somewhere far away with a new life, away from him.

He hoped for your sake that you had made a new life for yourself in a place that was happier and more suitable for you, unlike the gray, dreary living room he was seated in with your parents sitting opposite of him.

Apparently you had not done that because as soon as he heard footsteps coming down the stairs, he turned his head and saw you.

“Mother? Father? What are you doing here?” Snape wondered how on earth you could look and sound so chirpy to see such dreadful people.

“Professor Snape?” He cringed at how you seemed to shrink back a little as if being hit by the pain he had caused you three years ago. “I didn’t know you and my parents knew each other.”

He saw your parents roll their eyes.

“Yes. As we understand, he was also your teacher in school, then your colleague.” Your mother looked at you as if she were talking to a non-sentient creature that she wanted to shoo away.

“How have you been? I haven’t seen you since I said goodbye to you on the train before my first year at Hogwarts! I hope you’re happy with how the house has been. I’ve done my best to care for it.”

Snape almost choked on his own spit. He couldn’t believe it. Did he just hear in other words that your parents left you at the train station and never bothered to check in on you or take care of you during the holidays? That you were left with no family? At least his own parents made sure that he was with them during school holidays even if his situation at home wasn’t the best.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” You said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you when I woke up.”

“That’s because we just got here now.” Your father scoffed.

“Oh… Well, there’s so much to catch up on! I was sorted into Slytherin! Just like you and Professor Snape! Isn’t that wonderful?” You sounded so proud and hopeful that they’d be proud of you in turn.

“Why have you come back? I missed you.” You said. How could you sound genuine and sincere towards them?

“We’ll discuss that later. We have company. Go put on something… other than that.” Your mother scrunched up her nose in a way that made her look both disgusting and disgusted as she pointed at your outfit which consisted of a hoodie, leggings, and bunny slippers. Snape hated to admit to himself that even in plain Muggle clothes you still looked beautiful.

After you went upstairs he realized how hollow he felt without you in his presence. He hadn’t recognized the light you brought in wherever you went until you were gone.

He drowned out your parents’ conversation as his thoughts drifted over to you. It was as if the more he tried to stop thinking about you the more the opposite happened since the day he kissed you.

“Ugh. What is taking that wretched thing so long?” Your mother groaned, tapping her foot impatiently. “Severus, go make sure she has listened to my orders. Tell her to come down. First door next to the stairs.” She commanded him.

He didn’t say anything as he simply stood up, letting his cloak trail behind him. Any excuse to get out of the boring conversation would do.

He swore he wasn’t thinking when he turned the knob of the door and found it unlocked.

“I… apologize. I should have knocked.” The sentence came out of his throat sounding constricted.

He shouldn’t have looked either.

His breath caught in his throat as he saw how perfect and elegant you looked in just your black lingerie. There was nothing you could do to hide the bright redness of your cheeks as your eyes met each other through the mirror of the vanity you were sitting in front of. There was nothing he could do as well to prevent his own eyes from shamefully devouring the sight of your exposed skin he couldn’t stop dreaming of running his fingers over. Feeling guilty for thinking that, he harshly turned himself around, his heart racing in his chest.

“Your mother sent me to check on you.” Snape said after he was by some miracle able to come to his senses. Even though his back was turned towards you, he couldn’t stop thinking about how you looked and how he felt seeing that much of your skin exposed in front of him, with only the bare minimum covered with the flimsy lace fabric.

There was no way he’d ever be able to convince himself that he only saw you as the same student from all those years ago now that he knew what you looked like in… such a revealing state. Not to mention the way you looked at him in turn. The innocence that you projected in your eyes chipped at his cold heart, crumbling it until guilt speared through his conscience.

“Sir, could you… give me a hand?” You called out in a shaky voice.

He didn’t say anything as he turned back around, making sure to keep his gaze away from you at a respectable enough distance.

“I need help putting this on. Please?” You held out a black velvet choker with some sort of a dark colored jewel pendant attached to it. He never recalled seeing you wear such elaborate jewelry before. He wondered if you’d gotten it from some other man that had caught your affection. His heart ignited with jealousy at that thought. After all, what man wouldn’t be smitten with you? You were too beautiful to not be spared a second glance from any stranger.

He heard you shiver as he gathered your hair, his fingers brushing the delicate skin on your neck. He could still feel your eyes on him through the mirror with every movement he made as his nimble fingers clasped the necklace.

Suddenly, snippets of your last conversation together fogged his ability to think.

Your tears running down your cheeks as you begged for answers that one day.

Him not being able to say anything, instead crashing his lips against yours.

Your soft lips moving in sync with his.

How he hated the feeling of being so drawn to you.

Why was your beauty even more irresistible to him after spending years without you? The answer was because he was a depraved man. There was nothing that could satisfy his depravity more than a beautiful, innocent woman in front of him.

He couldn’t hold himself back. With each caress of his fingers over your skin, he felt that same hard exterior melt away, and he did not care. He was done caring.

You let out another shaky breath as his fingers trailed below your ear and down the back of your shoulder blade. He dared to take a look into the mirror to see your eyelids flutter, and your teeth biting your bottom lip, pleasure written clearly all over your face.

He really wanted to see you make that face again in… other situations. What was he thinking? That wasn’t right. He almost felt guilty about letting those other thoughts about the things he could do to you slip into his mind. Almost. He swallowed a huge lump that had formed in his throat at that idea.

With his free hand, he placed it onto the vanity next to where yours was, laying unassumingly. His thumb inched its way to your pinky finger before running along the length. It was a hesitant movement, one that he decided he would retreat from if you voiced any discomfort or showed any signs of it. Except you didn’t. In fact, you were the one who took it further, placing your entire hand under his and intertwining your fingers together.

With this unexpected move from you, Snape had confirmation that you wanted more of him as much as he did from you.

He noticed that there were no words exchanged between you for several minutes. Not that there needed to be.

As he forgot about your impatient parents downstairs, he debated his next move. You were still turned towards the mirror, looking into his reflection demurely, soft lips pouted. You didn’t seem to know what to do, leading him to make the assumption that you didn’t have much experience with men in these situations. It was up to him to take the lead.

Still hesitant with his movements, he brought up his other hand from its spot along your hair, back to your neck, this time caressing the soft skin once again. He smirked a little at the little noises that left your mouth. He knew he could find the right places to touch you to get you to whimper, acting like you were so shy to reveal this part of yourself, the part that enjoyed being pleasured by someone else.

He looked to where your choker pendant sat around your neck, imagining for a moment that it was his hand wrapped around you instead, holding onto you like a delicate flower, too precious and fragile to dare to crush. He had committed many heinous acts with those same hands, tortured, beaten, and much worse. He didn’t deserve to touch something so virtuous after all that he had done. It was wrong. So why did touching you feel so perfect?

Worst of all, because you had no knowledge of his past activities, he was dreading the time you’d find out which he knew would be very soon.

But all that was thrown out the window as soon as his fingers found their way under your bra strap without him having any memory of them moving there. He wanted to see your face as he let it fall off your shoulder. How much more beautiful could you get?

Even if he wanted to resist (which he didn’t anymore,) he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself as his lips found their way to your skin. Except they didn’t.

“Severus! What is taking her so long?! Make sure she comes here… At once!” Your mother’s shrill voice was what broke whatever spell he was under.

“You heard your mother. You should get dressed.” Just like that, he was instantly back to the stoic man you always knew him as. He didn’t have time anymore to think about what he had just done or how far he had almost taken things with you.

He regretted looking back at the mirror to see your disappointed face, frowning with a far away look in your eyes.

Snape didn’t bother explaining to your parents anything as he came downstairs, ignoring their annoyed sneers. He assumed you weren’t that far behind.

“When we tell you to do something, we expect you to do it efficiently.” Was the first thing your mother scolded you when you entered the living room.

You were wearing the same color as the pieces of clothing Snape had last seen you in, a black dress with sheer sleeves and a cinched waist.

“I’m sorry… I-” Your eyes flicked over to Snape’s, cheeks bright red presumably thinking about what had happened between you. Unlike you, he was much better at hiding his emotions, barely sparing you a glance. “I couldn’t find something suitable much quicker.” You finished.

“Apologize to Severus. You kept him waiting too long.” Your mother scolded you again.

“Sorry I kept you waiting too long.” You looked down, not daring to meet his eyes.

The next few moments came at him too fast in a blur. Your mother grabbed your arm and spun you to face her and your father’s sneering faces. Her palm connected to your cheek, the slap making you stumble back but not enough to make you fall over.

She leaned over to your height, and said in a low voice that sounded threatening, “You are and always have been insufferable. Now go and make dinner. We have more guests coming.” She gave your arm another painful looking jerk before letting go.

Without a word or a glance, you held your cheek as you turned away and walked into the kitchen.

Snape stood in shook, blinking at the open space where you had been. Out of all the horrible things he’d seen, none of them could come close to a parent hurting their child. He didn’t even know he still had it in him to feel shocked at something like that.

Your parents had to be on another level of evil to treat you like that in front of other people.

That was one of those moments that involuntarily made him dig up memories from even before his dark past as a Death Eater and his days as a student at Hogwarts, back to his childhood. He thought he had buried those memories of his own family deep enough not to be revisited.

From what Severus Snape had seen, your parents treated you more like a House Elf rather than their child to care for. On top of that, they had no problem showing off their disdain for you in front of company as much as other parents would show off their child’s achievements. There was obviously no way you didn’t think this wasn’t normal. You just didn’t know any better.

As you sat next to him at the dinner table you never spoke unless spoken to, which wasn’t often in the conversation. Remembering what your parents had asked him to do, his heart was shaking inside his chest as his eyes kept darting to your face, to the red welt on your cheek.

There you sat at the table with several other Death Eaters, completely oblivious to the turmoil inside of him, as much as the other guests were to the longing glances you were giving him. It was like you didn’t care or know how to hide your feelings.

You were too innocent to be caught up in the types of people similar to your parents. Unfortunately for you, your innocence only made your parents even more eager to find ways to break you, something Snape didn’t wish to see anymore, but only after he stopped denying his feelings. That still didn’t make him a better person, nor did it make any of the things he’d done to you acceptable. Maybe he was too far gone to ever truly become a better person for you, himself, or anyone. He should never have treated you so harshly in the first place from the moment you stepped into his classroom.

After what seemed like forever, he felt as if he could breathe again as he saw people leave the table one by one and migrate to the living room until it was just him and your parents who remained while you walked around, collecting the plates.

Meet me inside the guest room at midnight.

You picked up the note that was written on a piece of napkin under a plate. You knew exactly who wrote it even if he disguised his handwriting and placed it at a completely different seat than where he sat. He was also the only person staying at the house. Why he felt the need to hide his identity even though you were obviously the only person who would see the note, you had no idea.

You just hoped you’d have your first proper conversation in three years. Your heart pounded faster at that thought. You might’ve been naive (which you had often been accused of being) but you weren’t stupid. You could tell Professor Snape had gone out of his way to avoid you for the rest of the school year after he kissed you that one day. You wanted to get more answers out of him, but at the same time you knew you shouldn’t be pushing him, so you gave him space. You started to wonder if he thought he had made a mistake. Were you really that horrible?

However, you couldn’t deny the way had started to look at you with those piercing black eyes that had made you blush back when you were still his student. You didn’t exactly understand why you had to develop a crush on him out of all people. Why couldn’t it have been someone your age? You wished you could control who you were attracted to, then maybe you would feel the way you should feel about him, and not get butterflies in your stomach in his presence.

You were so distracted by your thoughts that you almost dropped the plates into the kitchen sink. You stopped your movements and blinked before getting sidetracked again.

You sighed, remembering the fiery feeling along your skin that trailed beneath his fingers making a thrill run through you. That wasn’t all that he did.

Even though it was midnight, your parents and the guests were still talking, leaving you confused on why Professor Snape instructed you to meet him in the guest room. Maybe he wanted you to go inside and wait for him so that your parents wouldn’t see you. The note did say “inside” after all.

You opened the door, and quietly shut it behind you before leaning against it and letting out an exhale. You were still wearing the same clothes as earlier since you hadn’t bothered getting changed.

Wondering what Professor Snape wanted to talk about, your mind rushed with theories of your own that were accompanied by a feeling of dread that crawled through your chest and stomach. What if he was coming to tell you that this whole thing, whatever was going on between you two was a mistake?

You pushed yourself off the door and paced around in small circles, keeping your head down until you heard the door open.

Your head jerked up as your eyes met his black ones. He was already so close to you, and you had forgotten how much his taller frame loomed over you.

You weren’t able to control the speed of your breathing, and you didn’t care about how scared you looked. He always knew you were scared of him anyway.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, not knowing what else to say, not that you ever did in front of him.

He didn’t say anything. He only took out a piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to you.

From the moonlight outside the tall window, you could barely read it.

Make her join us or kill her.

“What does this mean?” You looked up at him. You didn’t know if you were confused, shocked, or both. “Wh-who wants you to… kill me?”

You didn’t know you had started crying until you felt a thumb sliding against your wet cheek.

“I received this note from your parents earlier.” He said. In contrast to you, he showed no emotion.

“Why? I don’t understand. Why would…” You never thought your parents would ever want any harm to come to you. They were your parents after all. They were supposed to love and protect you like how any other parent should.

Your former professor took a deep breath. “I would never let anyone hurt you. Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” You answered after wondering why he would doubt you trusted him.

“Haven’t you had your life threatened by someone before?” He asked shakily.

“Well… yes.” You thought about the time you received letters from the Death Eaters who weren’t imprisoned, telling you the horrible things they would do to you when they found you. Luckily, you left your teaching job at Hogwarts before they could reach you.

“I will explain everything. Eventually, you’ll find out the truth. I can protect you. From everyone, even your parents. I promise I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Why did you kiss me?” You blurted out. Professor Snape blinked at the change in subject.

“It was a mistake.” He set his mouth in a firm line.

“It didn’t seem like it…” To your dismay, your eyes were starting to water again, but you were able to blink the tears away. “I didn’t think it was.” You looked into his night sky-colored eyes.

“You don’t understand.” He said. You instinctively leaned in a little as the backs of his cold fingers traced along your heated cheek before he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I wasn’t lying to you… about what I said that one day.” He continued. He took another deep breath. “Which is why I can’t allow things to go further. It would be selfish of me. Because… of the things I’ve done.” You could tell he was having a hard time getting his thoughts out. You wanted to tell him it was alright and that he could tell you anything, but at the same time, you didn’t want him to take it the wrong way and think you were pushing him to tell you more than what he was comfortable with.

“What will happen with us, then?” You asked.

“I told you that I was going to protect you, and I will.”

Damn it, you were making things so difficult for Severus Snape and you didn’t realize it. On top of acting as a double agent for Albus Dumbledore, protecting Harry Potter, fooling the other Death Eaters, and his teaching job, he didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up, whatever “this” was. He really did care about you, and revealing his feelings for you was a mistake.

For a moment he envied you. Everything was so simple to you. You tried to look for the good in everybody, even the people who obviously didn’t deserve it, such as him or your parents.

And now, you were in danger thanks to your parents and Voldemort’s return. Snape hoped that the day would never come where you would directly face that danger. He truly wished for your innocence to be protected.

“Are you alright, sir?” Your sweet voice broke him out of his own mental prison.

He looked down to where you placed your hands into his. You slowly intertwined your fingers through his, making them look like a tangled mess, reminding him of what his life had come to.

“You didn’t really mean it. Did you?” He didn’t know what you were talking about at first. “It didn’t feel like a mistake… Especially after what almost happened earlier.” You added in an almost whisper. Even though it was mostly dark, he could still see the blush in your cheeks.

He had dug himself into an even deeper hole when he walked into your bedroom without knocking (which he shouldn’t have done,) and took things that far with you. And he would have if he wasn’t interrupted. That’s what scared him, how much he wanted you, how lovely it was to see you, kiss you, touch you in ways he could tell you hadn’t known you liked to be touched.

“You’re right. I… didn’t. I was only lying to myself.” He confessed. He wanted to tell you so much more, like the regret he felt for everything he did to you, but he couldn’t. Because he realized you weren’t the one who was weak, he was. He didn’t know how much more difficult he could make his own life.

He couldn’t stop his eyes from hungrily gazing at you. The moonlight made you look ethereal, highlighting your beauty, tempting him, telling him to come closer and get a taste of what he wanted: you.

Your eyes shined brighter than the stars, pulling him into that siren-like trance you always had him in, but this time he let himself get pulled in. He didn’t want to get out, he wanted to stay where he was, with his lips locked onto yours.

#fanfic #reader insert #harry potter fanfiction #fem!reader #fanfiction #harry potter #hp fanfic #hp fandom #severus snape x reader #multiple part series #severus snape #harry potter angst #au fanfiction #harry potter au #older man younger woman #sfw fanfic

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pleasantlyinsincere · 7 months

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Hi, I was wondering if you know what music John was a fan of in the late 70’s? I’m aware of him being excited about the B52’s, and I’m assuming he liked David Bowie and Elton John’s music in part because they were his friends in addition to obviously being talented. And I think I read once that Julian turned him onto Queen but tbh that may be me misremembering a fanfic lol I just wonder if there’s anything out there that describes what John’s music tastes was in those days or whether he preferred to stick with his favorite classics; early rock and roll, girl groups ect. Like what did he think about the punk scene in NY?? Or the close harmonies a la Fleetwood Mac that dominated the charts? Just things I think about haha.

Hi, thanks for the question. I know that I skipped through a book called John Lennon: 1980 playlist by Tim English before, that may be a good source for you. Here's some random info, that I remembered where to look up. I think Julian introducing John to Queen comes from the SPIN magazine interview in '75:

[Julian] likes Barry White and he likes Gilbert O’ Sullivan. He likes Queen, though I haven’t heard them yet. He turns me on to music. I call him and he says, “Have you heard Queen?” and I say “No, what is it?” I’ve heard of them. I’ve seen the guy … the one who looks like Hitler playing a piano … Sparks? I’ve seen Sparks on American TV. So I call him and say, “Have you seen Sparks? Hitler on the piano?” and he says, “No. They are alright. But have you seen Queen?” and I say “What’s Queen?” and then he tells me. His age group is hipper to music … at 11 I was aware of music, but not too much.

But then there is also an anecdote, I think by Tony Barrow, that John didn't want to sign Queen to Apple years earlier? However that may be a lie, or John just didn't remember.

Yoko gifted John a jukebox for his birthday in '78 and apparently John filled it with the old music he liked. Elliott Mintz says there was quite some Bing Crosby. And I remember John also putting some new song by Dolly Parton in there.

"Yoko gave him this old-fashioned jukebox and John stocked it with Bing Crosby records. People kind of expected him to have rock 'n' roll records in there, but it was almost totally Crosby stuff. There were 3 songs which John played over and over. I still remember them. They were Crosby with a jazz quartet from the 50's, I think. He would banter and talk in the songs and John thought that was just the end. The songs were Whispering, I'm Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter and Dream a Little Dream of Me. Yeah, those were the songs, I can still see John listening to them." - Elliott Mintz

“The one modern song I remember him listening to was ‘The Tide Is High’ by Blondie, which he played constantly. When I hear that song, I see my father, unshaven, his hair pulled back into a ponytail, dancing to and fro in a worn-out pair of denim shorts, with me at his feet, trying my best to coordinate tiny limbs.” - Sean Lennon

One night we were playing at Max's (Kansas City) in New York City, and I was waiting for everyone to leave the club so I could go back in and pick up my gear. We were sitting in the van waiting and John Lennon and Ian Hunter from Mott the Hoople came staggering out and looked over. John Lennon saw it was me and stuck his head in the window. He was kind of drunk and stuck his face right against mine and went 'yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah' because he recognized it (Devo's song Uncontrollable Urge) as being an updating of She Loves You. That was one of my most exciting moments ever. - Mark Mothersbaugh on John coming to a DEVO gig in '77

PB: John, what is your opinion of the newer waves? Lennon: I love all this punky stuff. It's pure. I'm not, however, crazy about the people that destroy themselves. Playboy interview, 1980

I like pop records. I like Olivia Newton-John singing "Magic" and Donna Summer whatever the hell she'll be singing. I like ELO singing "All over the World". I can dissect it and criticize it with any critic in the business...But without any thought I enjoy it! That's the kind of music I like to hear. - John

John Lennon raced into Yoko Ono’s home office in the mammoth old Dakota building with a copy of Donna Summer’s new single, “The Wanderer.” “Listen!” he shouted to us as he put the 45 on the record player. “She’s doing Elvis!” I didn’t know what he was talking about at first. The arrangement felt more like rock than the singer’s usual electro-disco approach, but the opening vocal sure sounded like Donna Summer to me. Midway through the song, however, her voice shifted into the playful, hiccuping style Elvis had used on so many of his early recordings. “See! See!” John shouted, pointing at the speakers. The record was John’s way of saying hello again after five years. [...] It was just weeks before his death in December of 1980, and his playing the Summer record was an endearing greeting -- and one that was typical of John. Of the hundreds of musicians I’ve met, John was among the most down-to-earth. Corn Flakes with John Lennon (And Other Tales From a Rock ‘n’ Roll Life) by Robert Hilburn

"I'm aware of ... Madness. "Don't do that. Do this." (As on the spoken word intro to "One Step Beyond".) I think that is the most original thing actually because it's so peculiar. ... Out of all that mob I think that was one of the most original sounds. Very good drumming, very good bass and all of that." Andy Peebles interview

And things I don't have quotes for right now: I remember Bob Gruen had given John some video compilation of punk bands, that John enjoyed watching. In one of the last interviews John said Hungry Heart by Bruce Springsteen was a great song. There are the albums John asked Fred Seaman to buy on his shopping lists. Some are printed in The John Lennon Letters (Though I'm not sure that means he liked them, but at least was interested in.) Lot's of Bob Dylan talk in the diaries and parodies. Many anecdotes about reggae bands. In the Double Fantasy studio recording John references quite some songs and artists, when he tells the musicians what they are aiming for in the songs.

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lovingseventeen · 1 year

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Hello! I've been stalking your blog and I can't explain how much I love your writings, they made my day 🥺 Anyway, if it's okay, can you do svt as your co-worker (could be just platonic/romantic/both, whatever you prefer). Thank you in advance! ✨️

svt as your coworker

a/n: AAAA so sorry to get back to you so late 😭 i hope you still get to read this and enjoy it,, i tried to write this as platonic with the hint of something more?

seungcheol:

○ quite the good employee

○ in his nature to lead group meetings and be pretty proactive in delegating roles that are suitable for everyone

○ always checks in with you that you’re okay with your work load and offers to help too

○ is it relevant that he looks very good with the sleeves of his button-up rolled up?

jeonghan:

○ master of wasting the company time and he somehow drags you into it

○ definitely plays some kind of little game with you every day

○ you both have used up several packs of post-its due to endless rounds of hangman, tic-tac-toe, etc

○ he loves to bet little prizes like “okay so over whoever loses has to buy lunch tomorrow”

○ he loves to waste time but is also somehow occasionally employee of the month???

joshua:

○ definitely the office hunk

○ half the company has a crush on him (how could you blame anyone, look at him)

○ definitely the kind of gentleman to grab coffee for himself but also bring back some extra drinks for those who sit near him too

○ when you try to pay him back he just smiles and brushes off your offer “you don’t need to do that” with the sweetest smile ever

jun:

○ always falls asleep at his desk but also never gets caught

○ is either very productive or doing nothing at all, no in between

○ you have to nudge him awake when you hear that the ceo is walking around the office and you swear your heart skips a beat when he looks at you in his sleepy state

hoshi:

○ one of the company’s long-time employees

○ a funny guy but also super reliable and hardworking so most people tend to look for him for help

○ you call him over to review something on your laptop and he’s leaning on your desk with one arm

○ when you talk to him he watches you intently and you’re wondering why your face suddenly feels hot?

wonwoo:

○ he’s quiet and always finishes his duties efficiently

○ the kind to send one-sentence emails (idk why i thought this seemed very him)

○ he sits across from you and when your eyes meet over your desktops you quickly turn back to your screen (you don’t realize he’s chuckling)

woozi:

○ employee of the month honestly

○ one of the people in the company who moved up the ranks pretty fast and at a pretty young age (he’s younger than most of the people with the same position)

○ he overhears your music playing through your headphones in the elevator one day (some of you will get this reference i hope)

○ “is that [insert obscure band]?” he’ll ask. you lift one side of your headphones to hear him and you nod happily when you realize his question. (from then on he has a little crush on you and he tries to start conversations in the future by asking if you’ve heard about that band’s new release!)

minghao:

○ you were a little intimidated by him at first

○ there’s no other way to describe it other than he looks so effortlessly cool, with his subtle piercings and painted nails amidst his business attire

○ you realize he’s warmer than you think when you work up the courage to compliment his nails

mingyu:

○ he’s employee of the month #2, also a very diligent guy

○ honestly a joyous person to share a desk with

○ “good morning ~~” he’ll say as he settles in for the day

○ from the second he gives you that wolffish grin you know this is gonna be a problem

dokyeom:

○ the kind of sweetheart to stay with you during your overtime so that you aren’t the only person left in the office

○ “you don’t need to stay!” you try to tell him, feeling a little bad you’re stopping someone from going home. he even has his bag all packed up

○ “y/n trust me, it’s a little scary when no one else is here” he assures you, “i stayed here one time and something dropped in one of the cubicles and it freaked me out” (he left out the part that he bolted out of the office when he heard that)

○ you think about it for a bit, opting to just hurry a little bit with your tasks. “okay fine, i’ll try not to take too long”

○ while you work, he even goes so far as to go to one of the vending machines down the hall to get you both a snack

○ bonus: on your way out you playfully go “did you hear that?” and his eyes widen immediately, “hear WHAT?”

seungkwan:

○ would be employee of the month if he didn’t get into arguments with coworkers here and there 😭

○ not a rude employee by any means but he’s just passionate about doing well

○ it is so nice when you get paired to work with him because he motivates you to do so well too

○ the longer you work with him, you do get to see more relaxed sides of him and he even hums a little while he works (soon you discover he’s incredible at singing)

vernon:

○ also doesn’t talk too much, not exactly because he’s busy but he also tends to sit idly sometimes, rotating on his chair to pass time LOL

○ he’s great to work with though, he’s so chill and open-minded that he’ll let you take the lead but also input his ideas when he feels necessary

○ you start talking to him when you come in on a monday, a little excited, “did you see the movie that everyone’s talking about?” you ask

○ his eyebrows raise and he sits up in his chair because he has in fact seen that movie

○ thus ensues emails about work but also with a movie recommendation in the final line

chan:

○ was the baby of the office when he was just an intern but he’s a hard-worker so he eventually got hired full-time

○ you catch him kind of dancing while he’s trying to pick out a vending machine snack

○ gets so embarrassed (he may have a crush on you) that he doesn’t talk to you for a good week 😭

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starysky1289 · 9 months

Text

Toxic!Sorority!Vanessa X Reader. Father.

Shout out to @707bot1 for giving me the sudden inspiration to finish this <3

You left your English philosophy classroom in a rush, Vanessa had told you to meet her by the fountain before 2, so you could both go out and get something for lunch. You where to busy on moving that you didn’t see the man in front of you, bumping into him face first.

“ Oh my, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you. “

“ oh, not a problem kid, I shouldn’t be standing in the middle of the path anyways. “

You looked up at the man, he had wrinkled features, but still looked pretty young, had to be just above middle aged. He wore an old pair of thin metal framed glasses, and his hair was brown, combed over slightly. The lower part of his face was a stubble grey goatee that went up to his ears.

“ are you lost? Looking for someone? “

You politely asked, you’d still have time to meet Vanessa and help this kind stranger.

“ nah. Just looking at my building. Names on the plaque Yaknow. “

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, you looked up quickly at the plaque above the big doors.

The ‘ William Afton ‘ English Hall.

You practically shook with excitement, turning back him.

“ your Mr.Afton?! Oh this is amazing! I’m such a big fan sir, I’m studying to be an English major, an English philosopher to be exact! Oh but also author, I’m sorry I’m just so excited to meet you! “

“ Haha, oh no worries, why don’t I walk ya to where your going, so your not late. I’ll answer any questions you have too, love meeting a fan. What’s your name? “

“ Y/N! Y/N L/N. Oh my girlfriend won’t believe this, I’m meeting her now. Thank you for taking this time to do this. “

William smiled, offering his arm for you to hold. You graciously took it, wrapping your arm around it as you both walked. You’d ask him questions on his career, and he’d respond in big stories.

“ so, your a mechanic by trade, but you also Drabble in poetry? Those two can mix quite well if you know what to write! I once had to write a whole poem about a car. I had no clue how to make a ford F150 into a stanza. “

“ Ha! Yes, in my earlier years I worked in animatronic technology that was used to make performing robots much more interactive with children. But poetry has always been natural to me, I’d never forget it. “

“ amazing! That technology is surely something. Oh, there she is. Vanessa! Look who I found! “

You waved vigorously to the blonde sitting on the fountains edge. She glanced up at you, before staring at him. You let go of William’s arm and trotted up to her, taking her hand.

“ Vanessa, this is- “

“ well, if it isn’t my little rabbit. How had my girl been. “

Vanessa stayed silent, gripping your hand tighter as she stared at William.

“ Y/N, has Vanessa never told you? This..blonde law major is my daughter. I figured you’d realize from her last name. “

“ my name is Vanessa Shelly. Y/N let’s go. “

Your heart fluttered, you dated the daughter of the man whom you had looked up too for years.

“ why didn’t you tell me Nessa! Oh he should come get lunch with us! “

“ No Y/N. He’s not. Now let’s go. “

William chuckled again, rubbing his head.

“ ah, don’t worry about it. I can see Vanessa’s doing just well. Spending my black card on those outfits and god knows what else for your little house. Maybe I should stop by and meet everyone- “

“ NO DAD. Stay the fuck away from my sorority, stay the fuck away from this campus, and stay the FUCK AWAY FROM MY GIRL. Now let’s go Y/N. “

Vanessa dragged you with her as she stormed off. You tried to wave bye to William as you left, but Vanessa just grabbed your hand. You made your way down to the parking lot. You sat in the usual passenger seat of Vanessa’s car, as she quickly started to drive off.

“ I don’t want you to ever. And I fucking mean EVER talk to my father again, do you understand me. “

“ why? You know I look up to him- “

“ He’s a horrible, horrible human. Now you fucking promise me you won’t talk to him again, let alone hold his arm like that. “

“ Ok! Ok fine, I won’t talk to him again. “

You both remained quiet on the rest of the car ride, starring out your window as she drove. When you both arrived at the small cafe, Vanessa pulled your face towards her by your chin, kissing you gently.

“ I just don’t want you getting hurt, ok baby? “

“ alright…I’m sorry..”

She kissed you once more, and smiled.

“ mm, good. I love you~ “

“ I love you too nessy…”

#vanessa shelly #five nights at freddy's #sorority!vanessa #vanessa shelly x reader #toxic!vanessa

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marvelfanfics1 · 2 years

Note

Hi! Really love your stories. Could you please write something about daddy Steve (or maybe daddies stucky, you choose) when their little keeps on letting some words she should only use when in big space skip? Also, can i have this emoji 🦇?

Shouldn't have said it

Pairing: daddy!stucky x little!reader

Warnings: Age Regression, use of no-no words, fluff, time-out

A/n: Yes, you can have the emoji!

⭒𖥸⭒

You heard your papa and daddy arguing one day (something you weren't supposed to hear), and you had heard your papa use a no-no word. He used many that day one even rhymed with your daddies name. You had come up with a new nickname for your daddy. Now you just needed one for your papa. Daddy's nickname was Fuck Buck and papa's was penis face.

Papa was away on a run while Daddy was taking care of you. You had just woken from a nap calling out for Bucky using his new nickname, "Fuck Buck I wake," yelled out. Bucky hadn't heard the first part of the nickname, so he came walking towards your bedroom.

"HI Bubba, was your nap good?" Bucky questioned.

"Yes, Daddy! Do you like ya new nickname I make fa you?"

Bucky, not knowing what you meant agreed just to be nice. "Yes, bub, I do! Has a nice ring to it." It sure does

"Come on, Bubba gotta get you ready for the day now. Later, we're going to the park."

Bucky had thrown you into the bath, watching you play with you, duckies and bubbles.

"Fuck Buck an you wash my hair now pwease?"

Bucky looked at you like you were joking he couldn't take you seriously. He couldn't believe what you had just said.

"Bubba, what the hell did you just say."

"Ooo hell!"

"Bubba! Those are naughty words you are using! You are not allowed to use them. You're only allowed to use them when you're big, baby!"

"Do not use them anymore. Do you hear me!?"

You nod your head. "Baby, I need a verbal response to know you understand me. You say them again, and there will be consequences."

"Yes, Daddy."

Bucky hadn't heard it, but you had sniffled a little. "You wied to me."

After your bath, Bucky had gotten you in a green sweater and black overalls paired with a white pair of shoes, so you could go to go to the park soon.

Papa had just gotten home from his run when you ran to him he was sweaty and kind of stank. "Ew, papa, you stink. Needa baf."

"I need to change out of my clothes, and then we can go to the park, ok," papa questioned

"Ok, penis face."

"What the hell did you just say little love?"

"Hell!" You screeched and giggled.

"This is not funny bubba you know what I told you about those words, we're not going to the park anymore, and you get time out. The rest of the punishment will be talked out between me and Papa. Go to your time-out chair in your play room now!" Daddy yelled.

After your time-out, your daddies came back to talk to you. They were going to talk to you about what you did wrong.

"Baby? Are you ready to talk?" Papa asked.

You didn't answer. Your daddy picked you up and sat you on your bed, your daddies sitting on either side of you.

"You wied ta me daddy. You said you wiked my nickname, and den I got in twouble for it. An you yelled at me."

"God baby, I'm so sorry I didn't hear you, and I just wanted to agree to make you happy. Daddy is sorry for that and yelling at you."

"Sokay, Daddy."

"But your daddy did warn you still said the bad words, and you'll have no screen time and going to bed early." Papa said

"OK, Papa, an daddy, I understand, an m sorry fa bein bad."

"You're our good girl," they say at the same time.

⭒𖥸⭒

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc

For stucky:

@almostcontentcreator @stuckysgirl27

#little!reader #little reader #daddy!stucky #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy stucky #daddy stucky x little reader #daddy!steve rogers #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy!steve #daddy steve x little reader #daddy steve rogers #daddy steve #daddy!bucky barnes x little!reader #daddy!bucky barnes #daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy bucky barnes x little reader #daddy bucky x little reader #daddy bucky

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st-armand · 1 year

Text

Author’s Notes: Ha, yall thought that the Plug!Hobie fic was gunna be posted first, gotta keep yall on your toes. I finished this first so here it is <3 Also any content by me about Hobie his age is 21-24. Im also looking for people to beta read.

CWs: Mention of piercing gone wrong, suggestive, stealing, not beta read

Random Hobie Brown Headcanons

He has/had more piercings, notably a pair of sub-clavicle piercings, a belly piercing and nipples piercings (I know other people headcanon him as having a prince albert, but god I know that shit hurts so we’ll be skipping for now). He took those out because they kept getting caught in the frayed fabrics of his clothing, and especially worse his spider suit.

His final straw was amidst fighting a foe, he sustained several injuries, but he was horrified looking at the ripped skin of his clavicle, frantically looking for the bar and the flesh still attached, he did, but it was deep in the crevices of his suit and didn’t find it until after repairing it.

That was enough to get rid of all his torso piercings.

Hobie is extremely anal retentive when it comes to the upkeep of his piercings though, every night, maybe except those he’s really incapacitated from battle. He spends so much time in the morning carefully soaking q-tips in saline to clean the puncture holes, if he can take the jewelry out to let it soak in peroxide for a few hours.

You both fight over the real estate of the sink and its mirror, until you ask (threaten) him to get you a vanity so you both can have space to get ready, he does and its gorgeous; a vintage one he found abandoned on a side street.

But this doesn’t stop him taking up vanity space.

“Feel pretty sitting here luv”

Hobie is of Jamaican heritage, I headcanon that his grandmother is his only living relative, and he dedicates so much time taking care of her in her old age, despite their arguments about Hobie being able to be free, and not held down by family. She knows she won’t have many years left, and she may want to embrace him in her love for these final years, but she also doesn’t want him to feel a great heartbreak at the loss.

That being said he visits her every few days, stopping by for some beef patties, jerk chicken, curries of all kind, taking home the bulk containers of sorrell and ginger beer, Grandma Brown doesn’t question how her lanky streetlight grandson has gotten so strong and fit over the last few years, or how he’s able to take the large crates back to his flat.

She has her suspicions and theories, but she would rather not pry if it could end in harm for the both of them.

When he’s off being spiderman, or doing shows and odd jobs, you take up the mantle, visiting Grandma Brown and aiding her around the home, Grandma Brown gets to sit back comfortably as you take over cleaning and seasoning the chicken, she trusts you to remember all the ingredients she uses to make Hobie feel like he’s still a child with how nostalgic the food makes him.

She genuinely loves having you around, but she also loves to tease her grandson, “Don’t know what you see in that boy, he should kiss the ground you walk on darling,”

And that’s not to say he doesn’t. The undercurrent of his unruffled attitude, is an adoration for you, he loves you in a way he can’t even put into words for his songs. He thanks whatever cosmic source there is for dropping you in his lap, like a starved dog given shelter, and cared for the rest of its life.

Sometimes you catch him staring at you deeply, teasing the inside of his lip piercing with his tongue causing it to wiggle around, youre locked into his penetrating gaze, you feel critically wounded by his affection, it always comes in sudden frothing sea waves, cooling your body, leaving you to yearn for the warmth of the sun that is his love.

Hobie isn’t the type of punk to wear sexually suggestive clothing, but he does use riskier photos of you or the both of you, faces obscured or cropped, and edited heavily with grain to make it look vintage, he takes them to a vendor he works with closely for band merch and has them screen print the design on shirts for the both of you, loves wearing them during concerts especially to ward off erratic fans.

You let Hobie pester you about getting a piercing, which you know you can’t handle the pain for, but you humor him.

“Luv ya need some metal on that leng face of yours” He’ll say every few weeks, despite knowing the answer, insanity is doing the same thing knowing the results won’t change, Hobie’s fine with being insane if it means maybe one day your resolve will crack and he can see you two with matching jewelry.

He often ponders about what gems and metals would look best, the color, the shape, the size, and how all these can complement that enticing face of yours.

Steals you clothes (duh not original, but considering my taste of clothes…), and I don’t mean a few pieces here and there, he actively searches for things that will compliment your wardrobe, and in the span of a few months together your closet has doubled in size.

One day you say you’re interested in latex, he’s going to barter with some craftsperson to get you a few items to experiment with, maybe a few gloves.

You say you want to be corporate goth (I don’t see people ever adding corp goth to their alternative reader fics) ? He’s nicking the most gorgeous pants and skirt suits he can find, getting accessories and sitting beside you as you customize the outfits together.

Like high fashion, Thierry Mugler or VW? He has no problems with linking up with Black Cat to get into stock warehouses and design studios to steal some, Black Cat teases him by saying ‘You owe me for this bug.’ But she gets compensation by nicking a bunch of clothes for herself.After the fact they bound off in separate directions carrying webbed satchels of merchandise.

You know he stole them, in fact youre proud he was able to do it with ease.

(He doesn’t tell you Black Cat helped him, you wrongly assume they are attracted to each other, but Black Cat is actually a lesbian, he’s seen her in costume as a spectator of a dyke march parade under the guise of ‘watching out for the community’, he doesn’t tell her he’s seen her sneaking off into a civilian woman’s apartment, he’s happy to keep the city safe enough for everyone to nurture love.)

You wear these outfits with pride, sauntering down the street as an orchestra of gawks, and stares fills the area, blown away by the complexities of the outfit, and attention to detail to every complimentary aspects of the look, the essence of slay cunt one could say.

When Hobie’s there walking alongside you, he lets a hand glide to your lower back, urging you to walk faster, whispering into your ear,

“Walk faster luv, don’t you wanna give them a show?”

And scene. Hope yall enjoyed these, I aint great at british slang so be patient and give tips!

Comments, questions, criticisms? Let me know!

Request are OPEN

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie headcanons #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv hobie #hobie brown x black!reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader

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cosmic-crybaby · 1 year

Text

Blue Skies - Tommy Shelby

Chapter 18: 'Like Real People Do'

Warnings: Mentions of blood, childbirth, last chapter

Masterlist:

---

Months had passed since your relationship with Thomas Shelby had come to an end.

You had someone by your side with every step of the way. Now just a few weeks away from your predicted due date, Ada, Polly, and Esme were there to help you when you needed them. Even Alfie and John had stopped by a few times when you needed them to. But the Shelby women were there through it all. Esme had made an effort to be with you almost every day, even while she was expecting her first child herself.

Esme also kept Thomas' name to a minimum when it came to conversations with you, although she had wished she could gossip about the recent things he had done. Your mind had drifted back to him from time to time, wondering what he had gotten himself into now or how he was doing in that big mansion all alone. You stayed strong and refrained from reaching out to him for your own sanity.

Esme wore she would never give Tommy any kind of update on how you were doing, but Polly and Ada gave him some peace of mind after answering his burning and persistent questions.

“She’s doing just fine,”

“Her and the baby are healthy,”

“Yes, she’s still working,”

But that was the extent of it all.

Tommy really had no idea how you were really doing, and even though you wanted to keep it that way, he still refrained from stopping by your bakery, or sending a peaky boy or two to keep watch on you and the kids. An extra measure to make sure you were safe. He knew you were smart, and would have spotted them right away, but again part of him wished that was the case so you could talk to him again.

But it was better this way, it kept him up at night, thinking you were all alone now. He stayed awake at night with the regret of ever hurting you and jeopardizing your relationship. The one night with Lizzie Stark caused his heart to shatter every night he went without you in his arms.

You, on the other hand, continued to care for your two children and work on your own for the most part, even if you slowed down the further you grew into your pregnancy. You eventually gave into Esme’s request to help you out when the days got busy or when you simply needed to rest.

Tonight was Henry’s first orchestra concert. You were adamant on attending, no matter what. You sat in the front row with Elizabeth in the middle between you and her Aunt Esme. Watching him on stage along with the other kids of all ages. You gushed to Esme about how cute he looked in his suit, but went silent as they began to play. Listening to the beautiful symphony of classical music. You proudly gazed up at him on the stage as he focused on the sheet music and the movements of the bow on the strings. It was times like this where you were thankful that Thomas paid for violin lessons so he could perfect his skills on time for the show. Your smile dropped as you felt a sharp cramp to your side, inhaling quickly. Your hand quickly flew to your stomach for a moment until the pain quickly subsided. You managed to sit through the concert in uncomfortable silence, not wanting to miss a second of Henry’s performance. You shift in your seat as you take slow and deep breaths while rubbing your side to calm down.

Once the curtains close and everyone applauds, you turn to Elizabeth.

“Why don't you meet your brother backstage when he’s done?” You asked her.

“Okay mum,” She nods, watching her stand from her seat and skip off to the side of the stage. Esme looked over at you, worried.

“What’s wrong, love?” She asked, moving to sit in Elizabeth's empty seat. You groan a bit, attempting to stand up but sit back down with a shocked gasp. You feel around your dress, as the clear liquid spilled down to your knees and into the floor.

"I-I think my water just broke,"

You knew your due date was nearing quickly but you didn’t think the baby would come this early. Esme rushes to help you stand, grabbing your arm as you hissed at the aching pain in your back.

“Come on love, not much time now,” She guides you to stand up. Just as you pass the stage, Elizabeth and Henry walk out. Henry held his violin case as he looked at you. You halt your steps.

"Oh, you did amazing sweetheart," You smiled at him as he gave you a tight hug.

"Thanks mum," As he let you go, you reached out for their hands. You glanced at Esme as she nods once to make a call to John.

"Okay, listen..." You paused, taking a deep breath. "We will drop you off at Aunt Adas and then we will come pick you up in the morning when-"

"Rather than staying with their own father?" A strong voice said from behind.

"Dad!" The two shouted happily as they ran to him and hugged him tightly.

"Alfie?" You stood up straight with a groan. After he greeted the kids he approached you.

“No way in hell you’re gonna let my kids be watched over by a Shelby,”

"Alfie I-”

" Right, I will be taking them for the night, I insist…" He dismissively told you.

"You really never miss their performances," You told him quietly with a small smile.

"Of course not, I fuckin' love my family," Even past his burley exterior, you could still see the love in his eyes.

"Mum?" Elizabeth looked up at you. You glance down at her.

"Right! We'll get you in the morning when the baby gets here. okay?"

Their eyes brightened up.

"Okay mum," They said. You slightly bend down to pull them into hug them and give them quick kisses on their cheeks.

"Stay safe, mum" Henry whispered in your ear. You nodded.

"I love you, I will see you in the morning," You handed your children off to their father. Just then Esme had returned, rushing to your side.

"Thank you, Alfie," You smiled at him, wanting to just reach to hold his hand, but Esme grabbed your hand first after seeing the sweat beading on your forehead.

"(Y/n)," She whispered.

"I wish you well (Y/n), may God protect you, Love...stay safe,"

That was the first time you had seen him show real concern for you in a very long time.

"Love, the car's here we've got to go," Esme rushed.

In the car, Esme sat in the backseat with you, helping you breathe through the sudden increase of pain as John drove like a madman back to your flat. As planned, you had arrived home and John helped you out of the car and into your bedroom. Esme was quick to call Polly and had her rushed over, since she was the only person you had trusted to help you deliver the baby and she lived only a few streets away. As you sat on the bed, hunched over and panting, John rubbed your back. Even though he had seen this many times before and witnessed the birth of his many kids and siblings, he still felt anxious for you as his hands shook.

"(Y/n) Polly is on her way but we need to get you ready," Esme hurried into the room, holding clean sheets and a large, thin night dress. She had ushered John out of the room, sending him to gather blankets, towels, and water. She helped you undress and put on your nightgown as you finally were able to catch your breath for just a minute before the cramping started up again, this time a loud cry erupting from your throat as you gripped onto the bed sheets.

"Fucking Christ!" You shouted.

"You're doing great love just keep breathing," Esme calmed you, trying to keep your breathing regulated. She moved your hair out of your face as it stuck to your face the more you began to sweat.

"Esme, it hurts! I can't do this!" You cried.

"Yes you can! Just hold on, Polly's almost here," She comforted you. You whine as John entered the room, bringing the things Esme ordered.

"She's here,"

It was like everything was a huge blur, you had no idea what was going on until Polly greeted you. Hasty, and trying to stay calm as she ordered John to get more water.

"(Y/n), you've got a fever, you need to stay awake so we can get the baby out, okay?" She spoke clearly. You tiredly nodded. She helped you onto the bed, sitting up as she rubbed your back gently. In the midst of your next contraction you held Esme's hand tightly as Polly checked your dilatation.

"You'll need to start pushing soon okay?" Polly asked, standing up to wash her hands and grab the pile of linens and towels.

"N-No, I can't, it hurts," You cried, your words coming out like slurs and your eyelids getting heavier.

"Shit, John! Where is the fuckin' water?!" Polly shouted. The room began to spin as everyone in the room began shouting and yelling at each other. You couldn't comprehend what was happening. Not until you heard him call your name.

"He just turned up, I couldn't tell him to leave, Aunt Pol he has every right to be here!" John argued.

"I don't give a shit, he's hurt her in more ways than one and right now she needs help not a fucking reminder of the man who put her in this situation!" She argued.

"She doesn't even want to hear your name, what makes you think she wants you here?!" Esme spit.

"(Y/n)," He called. "I need to see her, please," He begged as he tried to push past Polly. She glared at him, refusing to let him through.

"Only if she agrees," She noted.

"She's delusional, she can barely speak!" Esme shouted.

"Tommy?" You mumbled. A whimper left your throat as you looked towards the door. A moment of silence filled the room as he was let in, much to Polly and Esme's dismay. Thomas stood by you and held your hand as you looked at him with a dazed look in your eyes. Your face was pale, your pupils wide, as the sweat drips down your temples and neck.

"Hi love...I'm here now, I'm here for you," He nodded.

"Polly-" You quickly turned away from Thomas as you called for his aunt. She walked to the bed once again, lifting the sheet to check your dilatation. With a focused face she ordered Esme to help.

"Give her water, try to keep her cool because this baby is coming now," She hurried. Drinking the water quickly and shutting your eyes as you felt the need to push.

"You're doing great, (Y/n) just keep breathing," Esme encouraged you as she dabbed your forehead with a damp towel. You nod once as you try to focus on your breathing. The impending pain made you open your eyes as you frantically reached for Esme's hand. Esme held you close, looking up at Thomas to step up and do the same. He was almost frozen in his place as he stared at her.

"Tommy," You called for him again, holding your hand out as he tightly squeezed. You cried out in pain

"It'll be okay, keep going," He looked at you with wide eyes.

"Fuck!" You cursed loudly as you threw your head back.

"Almost there (y/n) almost there! One more!" Polly affirmed. It seemed like everything had gone by within the blink of an eye. One last push and one last cry from you and it was all over. The pain became numb as your legs trembled. The warmth of the blood drenched your sheets as Polly gasps in relief. Far too exhausted to lift yourself up to get a proper look at the little bundle as Polly cleaned them up. Your vision begins to double as you sink back into the pillows. The muffled sound of Esme and Tommy calling your name was almost deafened when you heard the coos and crying of the baby. You felt your eyes get heavier and heavier as the sweat and heat began to get too much for you. And with that, you were out. The room was worried for you. Trying to wake you up but the fever, the pain, and the blood loss had all hit you at once.

That summer, Elizabeth and Henry were sitting on an old blanket on the grassy hills under the trees. The very same spot Thomas had taken them, chasing the ducks and flying paper airplanes over a year ago. The sun was warm and bright as the birds sang and the children laughed. A basket full of food and sweets sat beside them, Henry was restraining himself from sneaking a taste of the apple dumplings. You had approached behind them, the small baby in your arms as you set the small bag of necessities for the baby on the grass before you sat down.

"Can we take Evelyn to look at the ducks, mum?" Elizabeth asked, the baby cooed and giggled as she grasped onto your fingers.

"Yeah, let's go before Aunt Esme arrives," You nod as you stand up, and approach the small pond. She was still small, but her chubby hands grasped at the water, giggling as the little gold fish scattered whenever she wiggled her fingers. You chuckled as Elizabeth and Henry fed bread to the ducks, screaming and laughing as the ducks quacked and chased them around if they held the bread for too long.

"(Y/n)!" Esme had called. You stood up, looking at the top of the hill, holding your hand over your brow to shade your eyes from the sun. She waved happily, the baby in her arms bundled close to her chest. John's kids greeted Henry and Elizabeth before they gathered to run about the hill. The two of you sat on the blanket, watching the kids kick a ball around, their laughs were carried with the wind. Behind you, in the car, John stood. Smoking a cigarette.

"You alright, brother?" John turned to his older brother. Thomas leaned against the car. You didn't know he was there, and he didn't want to be known. He held the cigarette in his mouth as his hands were shoved in his pockets. He heavily sighs.

"Yeah..." He mumbled. He hoped to get a glimpse of your new life. You looked happy, laughing with Esme as you held the baby by the hands as she took wobbly steps. The small glance he got at her, in her bright blue eyes. She looked just like a perfect combination of the both of you. It ached him that he had to keep his distance when all he wanted was to be next to you, holding the babe in his arms just as you were now.

"Why don't you go talk to her?" John asked. He didn't completely understand why Thomas couldn't just man up and talk to you again. But it was more complicated than that.

"I can't John,"

"Why not? Tom, you were meant to be, just give it a try,"

The days after Evelyn was born, Thomas tried to reignite that spark in you. And as much as it saddened you, you declined. Your heart wanted you to go back to him, but every other part of you didn’t want to get hurt again. It just wasn't going to work. The amount of times he had hurt you was just too much to overlook the times he cherished you.

"Perhaps meant to be just wasn't for us, John..."

You picked Evelyn up, lifting her up in your arms before bringing her down to give her a kiss. She squeals as you do it again and again.

"That's bullshit," John muttered, flicking the end of his burnt out cigarette onto the gravel road. Thomas only took his hand out of his pocket to do the same. Shaking his head, swallowing thickly as he felt the lump in his throat grow the more he watched you.

And you smiled, maybe not at him, but after all this time you still smiled, so he smiled too. He quickly looks down, licking his lips before pushing himself off of the car.

"Let's go," He mumbled as he got into the driver's side. He gave you one last glance. Evelyn looked at you before turning her head to Thomas. Locking eyes with him. It was like he lost his breath at just how beautiful she was. Making him think, just how could someone as cold and deadly as himself make something so warm and beautiful.

"What are you looking at, love?" You asked Evelyn, she looked at you then back to the road. Pointing a chubby finger in that direction. Confusion washed over your face as you looked over your shoulder. You both stared at each other, doing and saying nothing until you lifted your hand to give him a small wave, as a comforting smile formed on your face. Thomas returned the gesture before driving off. Your eyes followed the car until you couldn't see it anymore.

"You still love him, don't you?" Esme calmly asked. You looked down, swallowing a bit before silently nodding.

"That's okay...You made the right choice," She scooted closer to you, putting a comforting hand over yours. You nod again, your breath shuttering as you look up. The golden sun casting a glow on your skin as you wiped your tears.

"We were always made for each other, just never made to last,"

---

This was the final chapter of 'Blue Skies' I really hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I have another Tommy Shelby story in the works that will be posted soon! In the mean time if you would like a bonus chapter with Tommy x (yn) or Alfie x (yn), feel free to let me know.

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