#he was in the the haunted looking dolls and i just felt that was no what he deserved

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

4: UNDERCOVER MISSION

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The tension between you and Bucky builds during an undercover mission.

Word count: 4.2k

Warning: ongoing miscommunications, some dirty talk, Bucky Barnes being am awkward dumbass

The mission was simple, but you didn’t want to be the one taking part. It was an undercover op where you had to integrate yourself into a community of people who were high-ranking members of a terrorist organization. It was a challenge for the other Avengers to mask their infamy. So you and Bucky were the natural choice since Bucky was now unrecognizable from his appearance as the Winter Soldier. Also, times had progressed, and S.H.I.E.L.D. technology allowed him to disguise his vibranium arm with a hologram. The first time he had put it on, a look of sadness had crossed his handsome features. He had hidden it well from the scientists and engineers, but you could see it in his eyes, the hollow haunted glaze that made you long to throw your arms around his neck and hold him until he would smile and the small crinkles around his eyes would lengthen as this steel-blue orbs sparkled. But this wasn’t your place anymore.

"Jamie! Look how amazing you look!" Priya exclaimed. 

You rolled your eyes and scowled. Who had allowed her to attend the fitting in the first place? Glancing around, you couldn’t see anyone else who seemed to object to Priya’s presence. In fact, some of the men and women seemed to be more focussed on her appearance than they were interested in the success of Bucky’s holographic arm technology. 

"Yeah, it’s gotten better." Bucky flexed his bicep and opened and closed his fist, marveling at how realistic the skin looked. "Thanks," he nodded at the project lead.

"How does it feel, Jamie?"

 Bucky shrugged. "Can't feel anything."

"It looks so realistic! Will you wear it all the time?"

You were lost in tracing the contours of Bucky’s muscular back and shoulders when Priya’s words brought you back to reality. “He doesn't need to wear it all the time,” you snapped.

“No, of course not,” Priya replied calmly, as though you were one of her small patients throwing a temper tantrum. “But sometimes James doesn't like the attention his arm draws. It makes him uncomfortable. So it would be good to have an option for him to avoid people staring.”

She was right, it would be good for Bucky to be able to wear t-shirts without being stared at, or feeling ashamed or self conscious. You despised that Bucky had to hide who he was. He was a veteran and shouldn’t have to feel the need to hide the sacrifices he had made for his country. But his past as the Winter Soldier was well known, making him a target for drawing scrutiny. You gritted your teeth, trying to formulate a counter-argument but failing. It was excruciating watching Bucky put a loving arm around her, pulling her into his side. He used to do that to you, just never so publicly.

“Thanks, Doll. It’s good to have someone looking out for me.”

The urge to punch Bucky in the face was something you did your best to push away. “Yeah, you don’t really need me here.” You slipped off the table you were perched on and turned to walk away.

"Don’t you and Bucky have to pretend to be a couple?" Priya called after you. "For this mission?"

Her questions made you stop in your tracks. Had Bucky really shared the sensitive information regarding your mission with his girlfriend?

"Yeah?" you answered, cautiously.

“Shouldn’t you hang around and see how Bucky is in a relationship then?”

“Thanks Priya, but I don’t need instructions on how to act in a relationship.” Your tone was laced with the spite you felt.

"Cricket!" Bucky looked at you, angrily. 

You hated it. It hurt that he felt these emotions towards you. But you were desperate not to lose his friendship. In a way, you hated yourself for not having the courage to tell Bucky how you felt. And you knew that if you wanted to keep your friendship with him, you would be the one who needed to stay civil. It was harder that you’d originally thought. You were a good agent, you excelled at undercover work, but when it came to Bucky, you felt like you’d lost your mind. Your emotions were a rollercoaster ride and you often felt like you couldn’t hold back your screams any longer.

“I’m sorry, I-I-”

“It’s alright, Jamie.” Priya put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, that probably sounded really patronizing. I just want James… both of you to be safe.”

You nodded, a heat rising up your neck and reddening your cheeks. She knew. The pitying look on her face told you that she knew how you felt about Bucky. It was humiliating. This would have been the perfect time for the ground to open up and swallow you. But alas, of all the times you’d been surprised by the loss of integrity beneath your feet, this was the one time where the floor remained as sturdy as ever.

“Don’t worry, Cricket and I have been partners for a long time. We’ve got this. I’m sure she’ll take good care of me.” He turned to you and smiled softly. “She always does.”

You didn’t quite know how to interpret Bucky’s use of partners, he had always called you his friend. What had changed now? You returned his smile sadly. “I'll do my best.”

Bucky took the hologram off his arm and handed it back to its creator. “I'll come by tomorrow for this. Come on, Priya,” he put a hand on her back. “I'll take you home, I need to get an early night, we leave pretty early tomorrow.”

Priya smiled at him, “Sounds great, I can say goodbye properly there.”

With a heavy heart, you watched them leave before following at a distance where you wouldn’t have to hear their chatter. Bucky had never looked so animated before and jealousy burned inside you. So you decided to head back to your quarters where you could treat yourself to a comforting dinner and fall asleep to escape the pain and anxiety of what was to come.

*

Your alarm went off at 4.30am and you groaned, rolling out of bed. There was no time to lounge around, there was a mission to complete and you always set your alarm for the last minute. A quick bracing shower woke you sufficiently enough for you to dress in a light, comfortable travel outfit and grab some coffee in the kitchen at the end of your corridor. You finished making a coffee for yourself and were pouring the leftovers into a travel mug when a slightly disheveled Bucky made an appearance.

"Thanks," he grunted, taking the mug you offered him.

"I thought you were getting an early night?" you smirked at him.

"Always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?" he replied, sarcastically. 

"What happened? Goodbye took longer than expected?"

It was Bucky’s turn to smirk. "Actually, we ended up having to say it several times."

His words made your face fall and your eyes twitch dangerously. It was time to retreat from this conversation. "We should get going."

Bucky nodded, falling instep beside you silently. He had noticed the change in your tone.

"Cricket?"

"Is everything okay between us?"

"Yeah! Why do you ask?" Your face remained impassive, but your soul was screaming with fear.

"Things have changed so much. I guess… I was just checking."

"You don’t think we can do this?" you asked, trying to deflect from the real issue at hand. But your question held more depth than you cared to admit.

"It just feels like we’re not as … in sync as we used to be."

"And why do you think that is, Bucky?"

Bucky stopped walking. "Ever since I introduced you to Priya, you’ve built this wall between us. I don’t understand what your problem is, Cricket. She’s been nothing but nice to you."

You took a deep breath, knowing you needed to choose your words very carefully or the truth would come spilling out and the embarrassment would be unbearable. "I don’t have a problem with Priya."

"Then what is it? What is your problem?"

You tried to think of an answer, but the only words that your brain screamed at you were "I LOVE YOU!"

"I don’t know," you whimpered. You bit down on your lower lip to stop it trembling, but nothing could stop the tears building up in your eyes. You dropped your head to hide your face but not soon enough for Bucky to catch sight of the water fall from your eyes.

Bucky wrapped his arm around you, sweeping you into a much needed hug. He smelled like home. You missed his warmth, the closeness you’d had. Bucky’s sturdiness made you want to melt into him, to break down, to confess your feelings to him. But the vibration of your phone brought you back to your sad lonely reality.

"Hello?" you answered the device.

Bucky wiped a stray tear from your face with his thumb as he listened to Steve’s voice asking where you were.

"We’re coming, Steve." Bucky raised his voice so Steve would be able to hear him through the phone in your hand, before reaching over and hanging up the phone. "You gonna be okay?"

You nodded, sadly.

"I'm worried about you, you know that, right?"

"I'll be fine, Bucky. I won't fuck this up."

"Not the mission. Fuck the mission. I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine, Buck. But thank you… for caring."

The two of you reached the hangar bay where Steve was waiting impatiently with your mission packs. He handed them to you wordlessly, analyzing your faces for signs of concern. You avoided eye contact with him, hoping he wouldn't notice your slightly reddened eyes.

"This one's important. We all need this to work."

"We got this, Cap!" You saluted him with a grin plastered across your face.

Steve rolled his eyes at you and even Bucky couldn't help but smile as you led the way to the quinjet. Bucky was going to fly the two of you to a southern Italian resort where the conference was taking place. The conference was a cover for major arms dealers and Bucky would be posing as a representative to a S.H.I.E.L.D. fabricated 'bad guy’ named Zandor.

Bucky’s cover was James Road, Zandor’s right hand man and you were playing Sabrina Road, James's wife. You had been told to expect a high end affair at a deluxe resort where the various representatives would schmooze with each other, gathering intelligence and allies. You weren't worried about your safety, not with Bucky at your side, but you didn't want your cover blown or to fail to get what you needed.

Bucky had once told you that he had never felt like a ‘James’, Bucky was the only name he had really known. It always made you wonder why he never asked Priya to call him ‘Bucky’. You wondered how he would react to you calling him James for the next few days. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" Bucky interrupted your musings.

"Hmm?" You turned to face him, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many intrusive questions. For some reason, tears seemed too close to the surface for your liking these days.

Bucky set the quinjet’s controls to autopilot and swiveled his chair to face you. "Steve gave me something before we left. One of them is for you."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside it were a beautiful pair of matching wedding rings, made of a shiny rose gold. Bucky slipped one onto his finger and held his hand out, palm facing up. But the other ring wasn’t what he was offering. He was holding out his hand for you to take, so he could place the ring on your finger. What you wouldn’t give for that moment to be real!

"Here, hand it over." You snatched the ring unceremoniously out of the velvet box, your heart pounding. The metal was cool against your skin, and you marveled at the delicate craftsmanship. The rose gold glimmered in the soft light of the quinjet’s cabin, casting a warm glow.

Bucky’s eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the ring back from you. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. For a moment, the world outside the quinjet ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, suspended in this charged atmosphere.

He held your hand gently, turning it so your palm faced down. The ring slid onto your finger smoothly, a perfect fit. He wanted nothing more than to hold on to you forever, lost in the comfort of your touch and your eyes.  You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. His cerulean eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and determination. It was as if he was silently saying, this is real, even if it’s just for this mission.

"James," you whispered, testing out the name. It felt strange on your tongue, yet oddly right. He didn’t flinch or correct you. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

"Sabrina," he murmured, his lips brushing your knuckles. The intimacy of the moment stole your breath away. You wondered if he could hear your heart racing.

The quinjet hummed around you, cocooning you both in its metal embrace. Outside, the world continued to spin, but here, in this stolen instant, time stood still. You wanted to believe that this wasn’t just part of the mission—that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between you and Bucky.

But reality crashed back in. The mission, the danger, the arms dealers—they all loomed ahead. You couldn’t afford distractions. Not now.

"Thank you," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "For this."

Bucky’s smile was bittersweet. "We’ll get through this, Cricket. Just like we always do."

And with that promise hanging in the air, you both returned to your roles—the undercover couple, James and Sabrina Road. But as the quinjet soared toward Italy, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission held more than just secrets and lies. Perhaps, hidden beneath it all, there was a chance for something real.

The rings on your fingers seemed to whisper their own silent vows, binding you together in this dangerous dance. And for now, that was enough. 

*

Bucky landed the quinjet in a small isolated airspace that had been predetermined to be safe by S.H.I.E.L.D.. Nat had scouted the area a few days previously and ensured an SUV was waiting for you. Both of you changed into casual holiday clothing.

Bucky’s transformation was nothing short of remarkable. The once stoic and battle-worn soldier now stood before you, bathed in sunlight, a vision of rugged charm. His light blue shirt clung to his broad chest, the top buttons undone, revealing a tantalizing hint of skin and chest hair. Beige slacks hung low on his hips, tailored to perfection. The aviators perched on his nose lent an air of mystery, shielding eyes that had seen too much. He was beautiful.

And then there was you. In a pink floral print summer dress, you were a burst of color against the backdrop of wilderness. The fabric swirled around your legs as you turned, catching the sunlight like a thousand petals. Bucky’s jaw dropped, mirroring your own reaction. His gaze traced the delicate curve of your collarbone, the soft slope of your shoulders. The air crackled with unspoken tension of the last few weeks.

The change in location seemed to have freed you from the burden of your emotions. There was a thrill of anticipation that bubbled inside you. Was it excitement or anxiety? You never could be certain, but you felt it at the start of every mission. It was you and Bucky against the world and there was no one else you'd trust more with your life. Steve and Nat had brainstormed a few ideas for James and Sabrina’s relationship but they left the details down to the two of you. They had decided that the couple you were playing would be newly weds, as Nat always said, people were uncomfortable with public displays of affection. They had even gone as far as securing the honeymoon suite for your stay. 

As the bellhop ushered you and Bucky into the honeymoon suite, the room unfolded before your eyes, a symphony of silk, candlelight, and rose petals. The air hung heavy with anticipation, like a secret whispered in the dark. The bed, a grand centerpiece, stretched out like an invitation, an intimate promise.

Yet, despite the plush surroundings and the illusion of newlywed bliss, unease settled in your chest. You stole a glance at Bucky, his features were etched in sunlight and his eyes, usually steely and guarded, now held a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in a long time. Perhaps it was the flickering glints of light between the net curtains or the soft strains of music playing in the background, but this charade felt more real than you’d anticipated.

The bed loomed large, its expanse inviting yet treacherous. It was a stage, and you were the actors, playing roles scripted by someone else. You remembered the nights when Bucky’s warmth had chased away your nightmares, the way his fingers traced constellations on your skin. But this bed wasn’t meant for whispered confessions or stolen kisses, it was but a prop, a cruel reminder of what you couldn’t have.

You glanced at Bucky again, wondering if he felt the same dissonance. His jaw was clenched, and his gaze lingered on the bed. Did he remember the nights in safe houses, huddled together for warmth? Or was this just another mission, another mask to wear?

"I guess this is a bit of a waste, huh?" Bucky commented, dismissing the tension.

You forced a laugh. "Let's get this over with."

Bucky followed you out of the suite, his awareness heightened by the people milling around. As you were about to mention their presence to him, his arm slid around your shoulder. You smiled up at him, perhaps the bond between you hadn’t completely faded. In the lobby, a lounge area beckoned, its bar opening onto a sunlit terrace and pool.

"What do you think, James? Too early for a drink?" you asked.

"It’s always happy hour somewhere, baby," Bucky replied with a charming smirk.

He ordered drinks for both of you, and you settled near Nadal, your target, who was downing mimosas as if his life depended on them. He was an older Latino man who was not only handsome, but impeccably groomed. He was dressed in casual clothing, but his attire radiated power nevertheless. Bucky placed your drink in front of you, sitting close, his arm around your waist.

"Time to put on a show?" Bucky inquired.

You smirked, sliding onto his lap. "Jameeeeeeees," you whined loudly. "I thought we were on holiday. Is this why you didn’t want to take me to Hawaii? You’re always working. What about me? I have needs too, you know!"

It worked—Nadal’s attention was now squarely on you.

Bucky chuckled, locking eyes with the target. "Women!"

"Can’t live with ‘em," Nadal drawled.

"Can't fuck anything else."

You stiffened with surprise with Bucky's language. You noticed he was more reserved about using foul language, you had always chalked it up to being Steve’s influence. Now that Bucky had Nadal’s attention, they chatted amicably and you took the opportunity to make the most of your surroundings; identifying security cameras, bodyguards and escape routes. You hadn’t noticed how much you had been squirming around on Bucky’s lap, because his grip on your thighs suddenly became very tight, holding you still.

His action didn’t go unnoticed by Nadal. "Save the action for the bedroom, kids!"

Bucky slapped your ass, salaciously and you gasped. You hadn’t expected it, neither had you expected the rush of desire between your legs. "James," you whined. It was clear that your role on this mission was mostly to cast suspicion away from your partner, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t play your part well. "You promised me you wouldn’t do that in public. You know what it does to me," you pouted.

"Better not let the little lady down, Road." Nadal winked, rising from his seat. "What room are you two in?"

"Managed to bag the honeymoon suite, for this one."

"Ahh, so it’s you I lost out to?" he chuckled. "Well my husband and I will be next door. Try and keep it down, your wife seems like a screamer." With that Nadal left you and Bucky alone in the bar feeling uncomfortable in more ways than one.

"Guess we’ll have to give them a show tonight," you grumbled, dropping out of Bucky’s lap.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, but from the way he was gazing off into the distance, you weren’t totally sure he was listening.

"What is it?"

"The competition."

"Great," you mumbled. "Guess we gotta get access to the intel before they do."

"What do you think our chances are if we play it by the book?" 

"Slim, they look like they mean business. And they probably have the funds to challenge our bid."

"Should we go back to the room? Nadal is probably expecting some… noise." Bucky looked uncomfortable as he spoke.

"And we’ll be better equipped to know if they leave their room."

It didn’t take long for the two of you to saunter back to the suite, Bucky’s hands were all over you and you couldn’t help but wish that it was voluntary rather than duty. You kept up a shrill giggle to make people around you look away. Once in the room, neither of you seemed to know how to proceed. Bucky had never been forthcoming with his feelings at the best of times, often switching them off when it came to work.

"So, umm… so what now?" you asked.

"He’s probably in there right now." Bucky put his ear to the wall as you waited silently for his assessment. "Someone's moving around, don't hear any talking."

"Set up a camera so we know when they leave?" You pulled a small device out of your bag, tossing it to Bucky. "There was a plant on the table outside."

Bucky didn't need to be told twice, he was out the door and back in under 30 seconds.

"Wait!" You whispered urgently. "Slam it shut."

Bucky complied with your request, with a confused frown. His eyes went from narrowed to goggle-like as you moaned loudly.

"Ohhhh James!"

Bucky gave you a horrified look before mouthing at you across the room. "What’re you doing?"

"James, I want you!" You delivered your line with as much lust as you could muster. Smirking at him, you dropped your voice. "Giving them the show they're after."

"Oh God, you make me so wet. I love when you push me up against the wall."

You motioned wildly at Bucky, who rolled his eyes and threw himself against the wall of the neighboring room for effect.

"I've been waiting for this all day. I want you so bad. Here, feel!"

Bucky closed his eyes, a deep flush darkening his face as you looked at him expectantly.

"God, you're so wet, baby." Bucky's voice was husky. And for a moment you wondered how he sounded in bed.

Focus! You told yourself.

"Only for you, baby. I can't get enough of you touching me. I want your fingers inside me." You continued, pressing your face against the wall.  "I can't wait until I get to rip these pants off of you."

"What do you want me to do to you?" Bucky eventually found words to contribute, having turned away from you.

You loudly moaned a few more times for effect. "Come on Mr Road, my badass arms dealer husband, you can do better than that!" you goaded him in a whisper.

"Are you serious?" he muttered.

"Tell me how much you want me," you cried.

Bucky thought for a moment, before choking out. "I want you so much, baby. I want to feel myself inside you and I want to fuck you so hard. Now get on the bed." Not once as he spoke did he make direct eye contact with you. 

Was it wrong that his words had your cunt clenching uncontrollably? You fanned your face before you noticed Bucky pointing at the bed. Oh right! You flung yourself on the luxurious mattress, making sure that it rocked against the wall. "Please James, I want you inside me." Your voice was suddenly breathless.

Bucky sat down on the other side of the bed, tugging at the crotch in his pants. They seemed to be tighter than they were before. He used his legs to rock the bed.

"Fuck me, James, fuck me harder." You crawled up to the headboard rattling it enthusiastically. "Whatever you do, don't stop."

Bucky moaned. It was a good thing he was facing away from you, he thought as he pressed his palm over his growing erection.

"That feels so good, B-James. Oh my god, I'm gonna come." You squeezed your legs together, trying to control the throbbing between your legs. Bucky’s name had almost slipped past your lips, and you hoped he hadn't noticed.

"I'm going to make you come so hard." 

"JAMES! OH YES!" you screamed.

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[willsdreamgirl]

“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚

tommy shelby x fem!reader

you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)

18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut

cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink

word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)

a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌

you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.

you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.

your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.

they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.

everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.

when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.

your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.

a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.

what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”

tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.

a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”

it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.

needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.

when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.

the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.

dearest y/n,

i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?

all my love,

tommy shelby.

you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.

dearest tommy,

to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.

only yours,

y/n.

tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.

that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.

4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.

“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.

after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”

your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”

he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.

he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”

you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”

“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.

things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.

ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.

you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.

he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.

“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.

“mornin’, sweetheart.”

[rboooks]

Child Support Part 2

Tim watched the other young heroes as they tried to look around the watch tower without seeming like they were. He's been here plenty of times, but the rest of the Teen Titans and a few of the Young Justice hasn't.

Much was due to the older heroes leaving the younger ones alone. Some not taking them seriously enough to welcome them at the big HQ as much as that made his blood boil.

They were taking the same risks. They were fighting the same good fights. Why was their age the main reason they weren't treated equally?

Some teenage heroes weren't part of a team per see, but they always answered when a call was sent. For example, Cass and Steph were present, speaking softly to Static Shock. Damian was standing next to Jon and his little friend Colin who was just getting into the swing of the hero business.

Bruce almost bit through his tongue when Damian told him Abuse would be joining Robin on parol, and he could do nothing to stop them. (Tim felt like he was watching Damian tell Bruce a paraphrased version of "But Daddy, I love him!" and it kept him smiling for weeks)

It was wild to see almost every young hero in one place. He doesn't think this happened since the last time Justice Leauge got mind controlled and almost destroyed the whole world.

"Any idea why we're here?" Kon asks to his right, lowering his shade to stare at the Outlaws. Jason's team stood to the side chatting iddly while cleaning over thier weapons.

Kon's always like their punk point of view, and he knows his best friend wants to go over there to talk to them. If it wasn't for the issue of the clone still being mad about what Jason did at the Teen Titans tower. Almost murder was hard to forgive for people outside the Bats.

"None. All I know is that John Constantine sent out a message to every teenage superhero group calling for a meet-up," Tim responds.

Bart whistles with a grimace on his right. "Must be bad if that guy is asking."

"I heard Hawkwoman tell Superman that she was worried and wasn't sure she wanted anyone of us mixed up in Constantine's mistakes." Cassie chimes in from where she leans on the couch. The three turn to her as she lowers her voice, attempting to keep the others from hearing. "Batman told her off for it."

"Batman did?" Tim asks, surprised.

Cassie shrugs, throwing a bit of her blond hair over her shoulder. "As much Batman can emote anyway."

Yeah, that sounded about right. Though it must have been something Bruce found disrespectful. His dad usually never reprimanded strangers unless they were saying something or doing something that sounded far too much like bigotry to him.

But to apply that to Constantine? Someone, Bruce generally disliked communicating with because the man tended to backstab his contacts? Yes, Constantine wasn't evil, but he wasn't pleasant either.

If Bruce had magical issues, he tended to contact Zatanna first.

Just then, the watch tower's zeta beams activate. Everyone who gathered turns to the teleporting pads where Constantine appears looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely exhausted. Even Tim knows that his eye bags aren't that bad, and he's usually going hours without sleep.

"Oh good, you all made it," Constantine says, sipping from a mug and wearing nothing but sweatpants and what looks like a nightgown. His signature trench coat was nowhere in sight. "I'm going to be quick about this. I need a team of young heroes willing to accept my son into their fold."

The room is dead silent. Constantine sighs. "Look, I've tried everything, but it's like Danny is allergic to laying low. He fought with a demon the other day over a child's doll- which you all know happens. People get haunted! But Danny refused to do it the right way, and now I had to beat off the demon's marriage proposal at least ten times. Not to mention his lack of social skills! No matter which one I stick him in, he can't seem to make friends in school. He got shoved into a locker on his first day! I thought that was an American exaggeration of the telly!"

Constantine pauses and takes a large gulp of whatever he's drinking before continuing his rant. A hand runs through his already messy hair, leaving it in bigger disarray as he speaks. "He's behind in terms of trends and technology cause his other father raised him outside of the typical timelines, so sometimes it's like talking to someone from the early two thousand, and other times it's like he's a modern Victorian era lad. His powers are also all over the place because the ectoplasm in our world is thicker, so when he breathes it in, he losses his control. Just the other day he accidentally made himself fly through our ceiling and almost reach the atmosphere before I was able to bring him back down."

A few of the fliers in the room wince. Jon nods and whispers under his breath, though his voice carries in the silence. "Yeah, been there before. Flying can be scary if you don't know how to come down."

Johns glances around at all the young people, eyes showing a tad bit of desperation. "He's sad all the time now, and I don't know how to help. If working with you could help him make friends, I would be grateful. He's a great kid. He just needs to adjust."

Tim had no idea what to do with this information; how do you respond to arguably one of the strongest Justice League Darks' heroes asking for a play date for his son?

"How old is the child?" Damian's voice rings out. Colin's hand is attached to his sleeve, a slightly nervous smile on the boy's face as he attempts to hide from the staring heroes behind his brother. Tim bets that if he wasn't wearing the domino mask, they would be able to see slight tears in Colin's eyes.

Damian's other hand goes across his body to cover Colin's hand, and Tim fights a shit-eating grin. His eyes lock with Jason, and the two send each other knowing grins. Looks like Bruce did have to worry about Damian having a secret boyfriend.

He can't wait to tease Damian later.

"He's fourteen....or well, physically?" Constantine answers eagerly.

"What does that mean?" Kon asks this time.

"Okay, so he's half human, half ecto-being. He sired him with his other father, Clockwork, which was only four years ago in this dimension, but since he was raised in the Infinite Relemas, times move differently there? " The British man says, and Raven goes rigid.

"Clockwork, as in the most powerful Ancient?" She asks, looking horror-struck when Constantine nods.

Before anyone asked what that meant, the zeta tubes activated again without permission. Someone had hacked into their systems which were ten levels bad. Everyone naturally fell into a fighting stance, only to blink when a teenage boy stepped out with a loud excited screech.

"We're in space!" The teenager runs to one of the windows, pressing his hands and face up against the glass. "This is amazing!"

Tim only relaxes his muscles once Constantine clears his throat. "Chum...what are you doing here?"

"Oh. One of your curse rocks things started proposing to me again, so I ran out of the House of Mysteries. Thought I see what you were up to." The teenager says, turning around with a smile and utterly freezing at the sight of the gathered heroes.

He had dark hair, wide blue eyes, and the most adorable face Tim had ever seen. Not as sexy as Bernard, of course, but darn close. Judging by the looks of anyone attractive to males, most heroes thought the same.

"Um...hi?" He says, offering the Godsmack teenagers a helpless little shrug. "I'm Danny Constantine."

"It is a pleasure, Constantine." Damian marches over to him with all his little twelve-year-old authority. He barely reaches Danny's chest. "I shall look forward to working with you. Are you formally trained in combat or strictly magic?"

"Um...oh, I can throw a punch or two? I'm mostly self taught. I rely on my powers a lot?" Danny fumbles to answer throwing a desperate look at his presumed father.

"No matter. I shall have you begin training. My Beloved also needs to work on his form. There is no shame in this" Damian nods, and Constantine lets out a large sigh of relief. He jogs over to place a hand on his son's shoulder, giving him a one-sided hug

"Yes, Danny, you will join Robin, Superboy, and Abuse on missions. They agree to help you settle and get used to your ghost powers." Constantine smiles. "I'll give me time to discourage all those idiots from trying to trick you into marriage."

"Oh...okay. It's nice to meet you all. Please call me Phantom on the field. Um, are you the team leader?" He asks Damian as the three youngest boys lead him further into the watch tower.

Constantine watches them go with the brightest smile he's ever seen on the man's face. He looks back to the group, who were barely starting to pick their jaws off the floor and makes a shooing motion with his hand. "You lot are dismissed."

Then the man vanishes in a green portal.

There is a ringing silence until Barts blurts out. "I'm pretty sure this is where the Phantom Fan Club first formed. A historical moment."

Tim wants to take a nap.

( Part 1 )

[allfearstofallto]

Day of the Wedding

Yandere! Genshin Men x Fem! Reader

Ft: Diluc, Childe, Scaramouche

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Yandere Themes, Forced(?) Alcohol Consumption

AN: I checked today and I have 900 followers??? That's actually insane!!! This is what I've got to offer I guess!!

Diluc

Who wouldn't cry tears of joy when marrying the most desired bachelor of Mondstadt? That's what people thought when they saw you dressed from head to toe in pure white, the only thing throwing your princess attire off being your smeared makeup. Your eyes, so red and puffy, had mascara running down your cheeks. Black tears staining your face.

Despite the way you looked, you still forced a smile. It was a small wedding, containing only those close to the both of you, but your family couldn't help, but wonder why you chose to stay close under your newly wed husband, almost seeming afraid to talk to them.

When the vows were spoken, you could barely get the words out. Your voice shaking through sobs as your tears fell upon the page of written notes, eventually making the ink leak and becoming ineligible. You still spoke your I Do’s, followed by him lifting your veil and kissing you right upon your lips. His hand snaked around your waist and the other held your head in place. But you, you stood there stiffly, like kissing him had made you turn into stone.

Diluc pulled away with a smile, his mouth stained with a slight tint of your lipstick. He walked you back down the aisle, with the crowd throwing rice and cheering. On the happiest day of your life where you were supposed to be looking forward ahead of you, you just kept looking back, hoping that your family could see the distress in your eyes, though they never did.

Childe

So many of Childe's siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles came to the wedding, but not a single one of your family members joined you.

“She's not close to her family,” he'd say, holding on to your waist with a threatening hand. That was a lie. You loved your family. You saw them often, at least, you did before the day you abruptly decided to move to Snezhnaya without a word to them. You hadn't seen them since and they didn't know where to send letters, you were essentially a ghost of their past. Your memory haunted them daily as they missed you dearly and you missed them too.

The wedding lasted days and days. A surprise to even you, but apparently that's tradition. Games and singing. There was dancing happening for what felt like hours. And drinking. So so so much drinking. With a feast that spanned almost an entire table, there was an abundance of alcohol to match.

You could hardly keep up with the festivities. In an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people being wed to a man you thought you knew. Childe wouldn't let you show your discomfort on your face, meeting your lips with a glass of whatever he was drinking, you'd gulp down even more and fall into that drunken dizziness. When the wedding ended, you don't exactly remember. It all became a blur near the end. But you remember waking up to Childe laying you down in bed, placing a kiss on your forehead and whispering words of praise to you that would've been comforting, had it not been for who he was.

Scaramouche

He always adored the way you looked in kimono. Today was no different. The pure white silk draped over your body was by far the nicest one he'd gifted you. Dolled up in traditional make-up, you felt so stiff with your now decadent appearance.

You'd feel less scared if he wasn't still wearing that same glare. That same look of anger and disappointment. Even though it was just the two of you in the room, you him and the officiant who would wed the two of you, he still glared at the man like one mistake would kill him. And it probably would.

Your hand shook as you picked up what looked to be the tea pot, something he made you practice time and time again to prepare just for today. Getting it wrong today would mean facing his wrath later, yet you still shook while pouring it into the small bowl. You watched with a pounding heart as you managed to spill some, dripping onto the floor and sinking between the wood.

Meeting his gaze and preparing for a scolding, you instead saw him lightly chuckle. Seldom did he smile and even more rare than that, did he actually laugh. The sight was even scarier than his usual glares, somehow his joy made him seem even more menacing.

“I expected this much from you,” he whispered into the silence. His nimble fingers gripped the rim of the bowl and he brought it to your lips, making you take a sip of the warm alcohol. It was bitter and disgusting, just as you'd remembered. When you swallowed your sip, he took one right after you, finishing off what was left in the dish, then sitting it to the side again.

Your names were signed onto a piece of parchment, a wedding document written in traditional Inazuma script. You couldn't read a word of it, but there was no worse contract than the one that said you'd be his lawfully wedded wife.

Scaramouche held your hand as the two of you walked out of the shrine, his fingers cold and his grip tight. It was such a beautiful day out. That was all you could think about as you were walked back to his carriage which would take you to his home. Your last day as a truly free woman, you were glad it was beautiful.

[sickuma]

ORPHIC — A Simon Riley fic.

❱ This is a longer version of the au I posted on tiktok ^^ I do apologize for the repetitive use of some words. I'm working on expanding my vocabulary! Your kind word means a lot to me, especially the readers on tiktok, you guys mean a lot to me ! ꜝ？This fic may contain heavy topics such as death, depression and melt-downs, if any of those are not to your liking. Please do so exit the fic. Angst warning!

the fic is unedited, grammatical/spelling errors may be found!

➴ SYNOPSIS — On a particular mission, you and your lover finds each other fatally injured. With a promise to meet each other again on your next life, you held each other as the explosion erupted. Only for him to wake up the next day, without you.

part 2 (●'◡'●) | masterlist

ORPHIC — (n.) mysterious and entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding.

"[name]?!"

He frantically called, dropping the weapons he held to take a good look at your figure who collapsed on the floor. 

The mission had been awfully longer than they anticipated, by the time the third hour arrived, you and Ghost already had fatal wounds.

He hardly swallowed, feeling his throat dry. 

He would rarely call you by your actual name. Ghost always abide by the rules, lover or not, he called you by your callsign through the battles you fought with together,

This one, however, happens to be an exception.

Your panting chest, bloody body, and exhausted expressions stated so. 

He knew, you knew.

He was only grateful you were with him.

The physical pain had caught up to him, he sat beside you. Taking your dainty form close to his, holding you close to him. You could hear his heartbeat,

They were oddly calm.

"Lieutenant—"

"Simon. It's your Simon."

He mumbled, taking your hands in his. Clasping them together gently,

You gasped for air, though in his arms it felt as if you could still conquer ten groups of syndicate. He held you so gently, so protectively. You swallowed,

"Simon?"

"mm?"

"I hope I loved you enough in this lifetime."

You could hear his breathy chuckle, the rasp in his voice another proof of his exhaustion.

"You're rushing, doll, we are still at the part where we reminisce about the memories yea?"

You smiled at his words, disregarding the growing pain on your abdomen. You noticed his own body, the scars and blood covered your lovers figure, You knew it was inevitable.

Without mentioning anything about your wilting bodies, you smiled up at him.

"We haven't lived enough yet." You spoke.

"Indeed,"

"We'll just have to meet in our next one and make the most of what we missed in this one."

Your smile grew, "I didn't know you believed in reincarnation, Si."

"For you, I will. This life failed us," He spoke with weak determination, "This isn't our end, [name].

 I'll find you just as I did before."

With one final kiss, he held your body tighter to his. Covering your ears as protection for the upcoming explosion, as he whispered sweet nothings, 

"If I'm as grumpy in our next life, Please find it in you to be as patient as you are to me in this one. I love you, [name], see you there alright?"

It wasn't long until a blinding explosion defeaned both of your ears, the noise was much bearable for you as he covered your ears tightly. Pressing your body close to his, Well it is the last thing he did, love you and hold you til you both accepted the inevitable fate you've been bestowed.

At his very last moments, he held you tight.

﹑

﹑

﹑

"I'll find you in our next life."

﹑

﹑

﹑

"See you there, alright?"

﹑

﹑

﹑

"Love me just as much as you did on this one."

﹑

﹑

﹑

Soon after the final explosion, Price made sure to clear the place. The eerie silence of Ghost's nonexistent callouts haunted him, along with the walkie he found which belonged to you.

He knew there was one answer, but he had a tiny speck of hope. You and Ghost never failed them, it was this life that had failed you countless times.

"Captain, it's been hours, it's just—let's try to be realistic. There's no way Lieutenant would be so quiet unless he—"

"Have trust in them. They're both strong."

As the two discussed whatever conclusions were the most possible, Gaz had found himself in a particularly secluded room. It was wrecked, obvious that the explosion did not spare it,

"Cap.. captain, you might want to see this."

With hitched breaths, the three of them stared at what the room unfolds. 

His arms wrapped around you protectively, dried blood covered the two of you as you held each other. The sight pinched the soldiers heart, how could such a tragic sight depict so much love?

The two of you laid, almost showing no signs of life. Price had to drop his equipment, staring at the sight and taking in the vulnerability and acceptance you both showed,

"They held each other." Soap mumbled,

"Tightly." Gaz whispered, staring at the grip your cold hands had on ghosts arms that wrapped around you lovingly.

Price found himself approaching the two, with a heavy heart. He checked for a sign of life—anything—holding your pulse first,

Nothing.

"They're gone."

He whispered, the silence of the room almost suffocating the room. None of them had yet broken down, though they felt as if their knees would give out. Price reached for Ghost's after checking yours,

Eyes widening as he frantically double checked Ghost,

"There's—He's still breathing."

﹑

By the time evac had arrived, Price had known it was far too late to save both. He knew this was now their reality. As he sat outside the room where Ghost lay unconscious, completely unaware of the world he’ll wake up to, unaware that he’d live to see that his lover is now gone.

Price felt his stiff heart ache as the thought of them accepting the inevitable death whilst in the arms of each other. How could the two of you receive such a cruel end? Not only were you separated, you had passed thinking you remained in the arms of your love,

He also knew you would hold no grudge if you find out that Ghost had survived the tragic explosion, Price could imagine the gentle smile on your lips while saying ‘I know he will, he’s always been tough.’

He closed his eyes shut, holding his head as he rested his arms on his weak knees, “how the hell am i supposed to tell him.” standing up to return to his station, looking at the window to see Ghost’s resting figure.

As days went by, Price had to argue with people to push further the funeral. It can’t happen yet, not without ghost. He knew he could only delay it for a few more days. He had faith in his comrade, but at the same time that hope easily withers as days pass them by like a blur.

“Captain if we don’t proceed with the funeral, [name]’s body, it’ll—”

“We have to wait for him.” he interjected sternly, glaring at the soldier, “we have to.”

He knew his logic had given out in favour of his emotions, he can't bring himself to betray simon. Not when he's already been through so much, he'd already lost the person he cared for the most, He just can't do this to him.

“Captain the body, they're doing everything they can to help preserve [name]. But if this keeps on, the body will decay completely! Do you think the lieutenant would be delighted to see the person he loves rotting? He wouldn't—I'm sorry captain. This needs to be done, with or without him.”

Price grimaced, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he closed his eyes shut. He pinched the bridge of his nose, before nodding with a heavy heart.

“Very well.”

“Proceed with the funeral.”

﹑

“Si, have I told you how much I love your eyes?”

“‘Mm? Yeah, all the time, doll.”

You chuckled, ruffling his hair. You loved the way his eyes squint whenever he’d smile, even the slightest smile he shows, you loved it every single time.

“I love looking at them, they look really pretty.”

“You think so?” He asks, caressing your face.

“I know so. I want them to be the last things I admire before I pass away.”

His eyes weakly fluttered open, his breaths shallow but much more stable than before. He’d woken up certain that he’ll turn to see your peaceful face, away from the wars, away from the scars of the battles you both conquered, he knew and was certain he’ll turn to his side to see you peacefully resting with him after the turmoil you've both overcome, as proven of the light that blinded him when his eyes fluttered open,

As soon as his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he sat up with a relieved sigh. Turning to his side, prepared to caress your soft skin.

His breath hitched.

You weren't there.

You weren't anywhere near his proximity. Where are you? He finds himself sitting on an empty hospital bed with nothing but his dumbfounded state. He looked around, observing the place with a tired frown. He felt rage. Why is a dextrose connected to him? That was where your hand rested before the explosion killed the both of you,

..right?

“[name]?”

He whispered, standing up, ignoring the piercing pain he felt all over his body. Pulling the dextrose and removing it from his arm roughly, 

Why is he breathing? Why is he alive?

“Hell, what is this?”

No. no no no no no no no.

He stormed out of the room, uncaring about the strange looks thrown towards him as he opened each and every room of the hospital. Panic surging through his body, he won't accept it, he won't. You've gotta be inside one of these god forsaken rooms,

Shocked screams and gasps were heard by every door he opened, abruptly interrupting the patients as he searched for those particular eyes. That particular person he needs. He was determined. In one of these rooms, you would be laying down on the bed, resting, waiting for him.

If he’d survived, you surely did, too.

He won't live otherwise, not without you. And so he continued barging inside rooms, panting and grumbling to himself everytime a different pair of eyes looks at him in terror, they weren't your eyes, you wouldn't have looked at him with a petrified expression, you would look at him with a smile,

Like you always do.

You open your arms and wait for him to close the distance and embrace you, pressing your bodies tightly against each other like he did the night of the explosion.

“Lieutenant!”

Price’s voice rang through the silent hallways, with workers of the hospital frantically following the two of them, “what are you doing simon—”

“Where are they?”

“Where is [name]?!”

He angrily snapped, voice strained with venom as he started to feel himself fall into a hysteria.

“Where’s my [name], john?” he repeats, this time weaker. Desperate for answers, desperate for your whereabouts, desperate for you.

“Simon, let's calm down. Let's go back to the room and talk.” Price tried to calm him, slowly making his way towards his friend, aiming to take him back and avoid him from causing another scene.

“No.” he shakes his head in disbelief, tears brimming on the verge of falling, “tell me where they are.”

Price felt his heart sunk, he'd never seen the hard-headed ghost look so vulnerable and desperate. “Simon, come on let's go.”

“Price. Where's my [name]?”

﹑

“They're gone.”

Price had managed to pull the hysteric Simon back into his room and sat him down on the bed despite his protest and cries. The sight crushed price’s heart,

“No.” ghost protests, “they're most certainly not.”

Price looked down, sitting himself down as well. Unable to take the lump suffocating on his throat. Ghost’s voice destroyed him, and he bet it would crush your soul to see your lover ask so desperately for you.

“When evac came, [name]’s already dead. It was too late, Simon, I'm sorry.”

“Then why!?”

Price looked up at Simon's sudden question, “why the hell did you think i wished to live if it was too late for [name]?!”

“Why did you have to save me, price?” he weakly stood up, looking down at price as tears fell down his eyes. They were tears of rage and grief—tears that he had rarely shown anyone but you.

“Saving me knowing I'll wake up without my [name], what did you— what did the lot of you think? Now tell me,

Tell me what ill do, tell me price, what the fuck should i do?”

He cried, weeping his unfeeling heart out. He can't feel anything, none worth mentioning—the hurt of losing you plagued his heart,

“I can't, price, I can't do this.”

“Send me out there, make me fight those syndicates, have me tortured for months but not this—not this, i beg you. Don't make me live without [name]. Don't do this to me.”

Price felt his own tears pool his eyes, he couldn't take it. Not when Ghost stared at him with contempt and helplessness.

“Take me back to [name].”

“Please.”

Without you, there was nothing else left for him. Without you, he wouldn't wake up looking forward to meeting those eyes that once looked at him with adoration. Without you, he wouldn't feel that extraordinary love you had saved only for him. Without you, he won't feel. Without you, he is nothing at all.

Nothing but a breathing piece of sorrow revived to a body which was once happy with you.

Without you he's simply nothing.

[riediaries]

satoru knows every part of you. every things you like and hate. he's able to locate each and every mole you have on your body and how many it is. it's like knowing you have been a second nature to him. in order words, he knows your whole nature and that's how you fell in love with him.

he knows you don't like eating a watermelon with seeds on it. you don't want to spit it out after or let alone eat it.

satoru silently observes you as you payed all of your attention to the sliced watermelon on your hands. picking every black seeds you see in the fruit.

you were getting irritated and he sighs, picking a sliced watermelon on the table and removed all the seeds in mere seconds.

"here, eat this. i already removed all of the seeds." he hands you a sliced watermelon. the red juicy part was clean. no seeds. just like how you like it.

"ah.. thanks.." you murmur, accepting the fruit and that was first time you felt a fluttering emotion on your tummy as you stare at the watermelon he handed you.

"mhm.." he hums. "you don't like it with the seeds on it, right?" he asks and you nodded. he hums again, nodding his head in a subtle way.

no seeds on her sliced watermelon, got it.

you like the beach, especially the sunset. he remembers peeking on your phone one time and due to his curiosity, he opened your photo gallery and you have a folder named 'sunsets<3'.

it has a lot of your pictures in the beach, capturing the breathtaking sunset and there are also pictures with just the sun but he likes the pictures with you in it. you're prettier than the sunset, anyways.

"we should go here sometime. the four of us." he tells suguru as they walk on the sand barefooted.

they just finished their mission and their flight will be tomorrow morning so they're spending their time to relax.

satoru keeps his eye on the setting sun. pink and purples hues were seen on the sky.

picture.. yes. i should take a picture for her. he thoughts and brought out his phone to take a picture. he sends the picture to you.

annoying blue-eyed freak: sent a photo.

annoying blue-eyed freak: sunset's pretty here today. you might like it.

you take a look at the photo he sent and the photo's automatically saved on your folder 'picture he sends'.

sunset lover princess: thanks, love it.

he smiles over the three letter word you sent. yep, his day's now complete with just your reply.

unknowingly to him, suguru secretly took a photo of him and he captured the most breathtaking satoru gojo photo to exist.

it's a photo of him on his side, smiling on his phone and the background is the sunset.

cool bangs: sent a photo.

your phone dings. you thought it's another photo of sunset from satoru but no. it's satoru with the sunset but he's not looking at the camera.

you stare at it for good few minutes.

cool bangs: if you're just going to stare at it, you might as well save it. i might delete it.

that message from suguru alone had your fingers saving his photo and put it on another album. a secret album named 'photos i love'.

yes, definitely 'love'.

satoru also knows that you love movie nights with them. horror, romance, or action. name all the genres present. you once told him that it's not about the movie you're excited but being able to spend time with your friends.

being a jujutsu sorcerer at a young age costs your freedom as a child and to dream. you will never know when you will die or vanish from this world. that's why you're spending all of their freedom time with you and they're actually okay with it.

same feelings, as they said.

"ahh! suguru! tell me when the haunted dolls are gone!" satoru clings to suguru as he scream out of his lungs.

"no, you watch it satoru. be a big brave man." he teases the young boy more. "i heard she likes men who's brave and can watch horror movies with her." he whispers to his best friend.

satoru eyes his best friend with a look of suspicious. "are you... sure?"

"her biggest turn off is actually a scared cat like men." he hums, adding more false informations about your type. "meaning, a boy like you, satoru." he dramatically covered his forehead and his eyes to express his disappointment for his best friend.

suguru knows that even when his best friend is screaming like a lady, you'll still like him. even though he can't bear to watch a single horror movie, you'll still like him because he's satoru. the annoying blue-eyed freak that constantly running on your mind twenty-four seven.

the two best friends eyes the two of you. shoko and you, unimpressed on their nonstop bickering and satoru's screams and unbothered on the horror scene in front of you.

wow. just wow. what a scene.

ever since then, you always invite them to watch a newly released movie, mostly horrors but in rare cases, you want to watch romance.

"oh sweet. they're kissing like it's the end of the world." satoru commented as he pushes a mouthful of popcorn on his mouth.

shoko and suguru went out for a smoke since romance is not really their thing but they still agreed to watch just to see you happy. and they couldn't refuse when you were that cute begging them to watch it with them.

"because that's how they are desperate to be with each other." you reply. "i mean, you'll surely kiss a person like that when the world's trying to separate you. you will pour all of your emotions in that kiss to express your feelings." you further explains.

he raises an eyebrow at you. "i thought you're only interested in horror. why are you so knowledgeable about love?"

"books..?"

"yeah? and?"

"what do you mean by that?"

"have you ever kissed a person like that before?" his question caught you off guard and you turns to him.

"what? no! it's not like that! do i need to have an experience to explain those?" you defend yourself. you haven't been kissed yet!

"want me to give you an experience, then?"

you were caught you off guard and you didn't have time to react when he leans to you, kissing the side of your lips. too close to be called a kiss. too close to end your 'no first kiss' phase.

"i like you." he mutters as he looks at you straight in the eye. you're still close to each other and you can feel his breathe on your skin. "more than any of my favorite sweets." he adds, making you laugh.

"i like you, too. more than any favorite sunset i had captured and saw." you confess.

he smiles but his face immediately turns into a sour face. "even though i can barely watch a horror movie?" he asks cutely and you burst into laugh.

"w-who.." you can't stop yourself from laughing. "who said that?"

"suguru." he mentions his best friend. so, the dark haired male is the suspect on spreading false claims.

"I like someone who removes all of the seeds on my sliced watermelon." he smiles at that sentence.

"i like someone who will immediately thought of me whenever he sees sunset and sends me a picture of it." he smiles even more as he closes the gap between you slowly.

"yeah? and? you like someone who's very handsome, too, right?" he grins. "you like a certain someone whose contact name is 'annoying blue-eyed freak', right?"

it made you chuckle. how did he even know that one? you always made sure to lock your phone and keep the password to yourself only.

"i like someone who can't watch a horror movie with me and full of screams–"

he shuts you up by putting his lips onto yours and then pulls away.

your 'no first kiss' phase have officially signed off.

satoru clearly knows that you love movie nights, especially horror movies with him screaming but satoru knows that you love him even more than your collection of horror movies and the sunset you have ever captured and saw in your whole life.

[saturnville]

home to you, major john egan

pairing: major john "bucky" egan (masters of the air) x black fem oc (amelia egan)

content: bucky returns home after spending time away in the war. inspired by this gif set

an: an anon asked me for more major john egan fics, so here we are! ask and you shall receive.

Amelia Mae Egan found it difficult to adjust to the absence of her husband. The sound of silence was daunting and nothing short of a haunting melody that kept her up at night. 

The bed was cooler than Antarctica. The chill of the sheets stung like bitter cold. His pillow was left just as it was the day he left. Perfectly propped against the metal bedframe. She would lean over to inhale the remnants on his scent. 

Amelia wasn’t used to making her own coffee. Only he knew how to make it the way she enjoyed. When her own hands attempted to make the rich goodness, she spewed it out like a stubborn child and chucked the remainder into the sink. 

Breakfast was uncompromising without him. She couldn’t stomach more than a few bites before her eyes filled with tears and she slid the bowl across the table. It would stay untouched and crust over as the day went on. 

Her frustration grew even more when the overhead light in the bedroom went out. Her day had been long, and the last thing she needed was to enter a dark bedroom. Amelia found herself running around the house like a chicken with her head cut off searching for a new lightbulb. Of course, it was on a shelf taller than she was, so she had to use a chair to retrieve it. 

Amelia’s heartrate quickened as the agitation within her seeped through her pores. Her fingers flicked the side lamp aggressively. She kicked off her shoes and climbed unto the bed, the springs squeaking gently. She reached above her, but her hands just barely met the unlit lamp. 

“Son of a bitch,” she cursed in frustration. 

“Nasty language for a pretty woman.” Amelia’s head flung up like a spring. She released a noise--a mix between a gasp, a sob, and a laugh. Last time she checked, she wasn’t going to see him for another two weeks. But, there he stood, in all his beauty. 

John gave her a small smile and placed his suitcase on the ground. He gently placed his hat on top of it. His shoes kissed the floor as he quickly made his way to her. Amelia smiled like a child in the candy store and dropped the lightbulb on the bed. 

“Hi darlin’.” His voice was deep like ocean waters yet smooth like silk. His rough hands trailed up her soft calves and to her hips. He clenched the flesh of her bottom; she leaned into his touch, leaning down to cup his cheeks with her hands. Her tear filled eyes gazed into his loving blue eyes. 

She wasted no time connecting their lips. Relief and comfort washed over her body like tidal wave. Her baby. In that kiss was an intense fuel of passion that transcended all other emotions she felt before. Amelia released a soft whimper when his hands cupped the back of her thighs, hoisting her in his arms. 

One of John’s hands searched for the bed, laying her against it gently. Amelia giggled softly as her husband wrecked her neck with kisses, “Johnny.” John nudged her thighs open and slotted his body between them; she trapped him in position. 

“I’ve missed you, doll,” he whispered lowly, fondling with the thin shirt that covered her chest. His nose brushed against the valley of her breasts. “Did you miss me?” His ears caught her heavy breaths and soft expressions. 

“I did. So much. So happy you’re home.” Amelia’s fingers carded through his hair as she tried to maintain the small amount of self control she had left. 

“How about you show me how much you missed me, darlin’,” he commanded softly, looking into her eyes. She smiled mischievously and lowered her hands to his belt. Four months without her, there was much to make up for, and she was more than happy to oblige.

[iateyourparents]

little surprise | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x fem!reader

summary: you're exploring some haunted place with sam and colby when spirits surprise you with some news.

warnings: i totally made up this haunted place, use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(I'm sorry, english is not my first language)

pictures are from pinterest:)

"What's up guys! It's Sam and Colby!" Colby started talking to the camera "Today we are exploring Colers' house!"

"Yeah! People call it one of the most hunted places in Florida, so today we will see if it lives up to its name." Sam explained "But we're not alone here."

You and Katrina stood between them.

"These beautiful ladies will be investing with us today!" Colby smiled at viewers "Y/n, Kat, how are you feeling about it?"

"Nervous and excited." you smiled and Katrina agreed with you.

"So let's see if we can catch some ghosts!"

The boys stopped recording and did a quick talk with your guide and then he started showing you around the house.

The tour was quite peaceful, just a few knocks here and there.

When Sam and Colby recorded their explanation about the place for viewers you all started an investigation.

"Okay guys" Sam addressed the camera "We're in Allie's room. It's called the most active room, because apparently she's always here so we will try to contact her and hopefully she will cooperate with us."

"Yeah, as you probably already know, she spent most of her time here and was killed here. This bed is her original one and the doll you see on the desk was her favorite one. Apparently she held that doll when she was murdered." Colby explained "On the back of this doll's dress is her blood stain, unfortunately we can't show you this because the guide asked us not to touch it because of the risk of possession but we will show you a picture of it that the guide gave us."

"Okay so here I will place a rem pod" Sam said while you placed the music box next to the door frame.

Suddenly you felt weird dizziness and had to lean on a wall next to you for a support.

Colby noticed it and came to you.

"Everything ok?" he asked quietly looking at the camera and when he saw Sam was pointing it in another direction he held your hand. Your relationship still was somewhat fresh so you tried to be secretive. You were together for almost a year after being friends for a few years.

"Yeah, I just felt dizzy." you informed him "I will be okay, promise."

He nodded, although unsure, and took the camera from Sam and you all started an investigation.

When Sam was about asking if someone was with you in the room, you all heard thud, like something big fell on the floor.

"It was like from here but there's nothing." Sam said "Maybe Allie wants to talk with us."

"Hi Allie" you started "I'm y/n, we're here just to talk with you. We mean no harm, nor do we want to disrespect you or disturb you. You can talk with us and move something or knock to let us know you're with us and understand what we say."

Not longer than a few seconds later you heard five knocks.

"Thank you, Allie" Kat smiled.

"So now we will use the spirit box. You can say something to it and we will hear it." Sam placed it on the bed.

And right away it said "Hello".

"Hi/Hello" you all said and laughed.

"Allie, is that you?" Colby asked.

"Yes."

"She's answering" Sam said excitedly.

You talked with her for a few more minutes when Colby offered to do an estes method for more answers and you all agreed.

Colby sat on Allie's bed and you blindfolded him and then Kat handed him headphones.

When you were sure he doesn't hear you, Sam started asking questions.

"Allie, are you still with us?"

Immediately Colby answered "Yes."

You three asked some questions to which Allie answered and then you thought of something.

"Hey, Allie. Earlier, after we came to this room, I felt a little dizzy. Was that because of you? Or do you know who or what was that?"

"He." Colby said "Try...attack."

"Someone tried to attack y/n?" Sam asked with furrowed brows.

"Yeah." you gasped at that.

"Can you tell us who is 'he'?" Kat asked.

"Killer." Colby stated immediately "Wanted to hurt...Baby"

"The person who killed you tried to hurt y/n?" Sam tried to make sense of Allie's words.

"Tried hurt...baby."

"She keeps saying baby, maybe there's some child spirit he tried to hurt." you offered and Colby immediately denied.

"No." he was silent for a moment "Your baby...he didn't like...your baby."

"My baby?" you narrowed your brows "Can you tell us who exactly is 'my baby'?"

You saw Katrina covering her mouth while exchanging looks with you and you knew she thought of something.

And when Allie didn't answer, she offered "Is there any chance you could be, you know, pregnant?"

Your eyes got wide and you opened your mouth to answer but nothing came out. Still trying to process her idea you shook your head.

"Yes, she is." Colby said and you just stared at him.

"Allie, are you sure that y/n is pregnant?" Sam asked.

"Yes."

"Oh my god." you covered your mouth in shock. You could see tears in Sam's eyes and you knew he already was happy with news about being an uncle.

But then he realized something.

"We should take him out of trance and get out of here. If Allie is right and something wants to hurt you and your baby, we can't risk it." he stated and Kat immediately agreed with him.

"Let's not say it to Colby yet, please." you asked and they agreed and then you shook Colby's arm.

"We should get out of here." Sam stated to Colby who was confused "There might be something threatening girls. We will explain later."

Colby didn't protest. He saw shock on your and Kat's faces and Sam's teary eyes so he just started packing things.

"Thank you for everything Allie, you were very helpful. We are leaving this bear for you." you said and placed white bear on the bed. You could hear the series of knocks that you took as a 'thank you'.

When you all were in the car Colby finally asked "So what happened when I was under?"

There was a silence and Colby looked even more confused while you thought about what to say.

"Come on, don't worry me even more." Colby looked into your eyes "What happened? What Allie told you, was there someone else? Why Sam was crying?"

You couldn't keep it secret for longer so you just said "You should see what happened there on the camera."

You took the camera from it's box and gave it to Colby who immediately looked for the moment of the estes method. He was listening to the conversation when he finally saw the moment of yours realization and looked at you with wide eyes.

"You're pregnant?"

"If Allie was correct then yes, I am." you stated "I will make a doctor appointment when we are in the hotel."

He just nodded and by his eyes you could tell he was excited.

When you finally parked in the hotel's parking lot and got out of the car, Colby immediately circled the car and hugged you, and then kissed you.

"If...if you are pregnant, would you be happy?"

"I was shocked and unsure because we're not together for very long but yeah, I would be happy. And you?"

"I would be more than happy." he laughed and kissed you.

„Sorry to interrupt your cute moment guys.” you both looked at Sam „But I’m sure you don’t want to share it with a world yet, so should I tweet that our materials mysteriously disappeared?”

„Yes please” Colby nodded „We could publish the video when we’ll be ready to announce it?” he looked at you for an approval and you nodded „Okay, so we should record an outro, Sam.”

Both boys went to a side and you could see them recording.

„They look more excited than you.” Kat laughed and you did the same.

„I still can’t believe it. But I am happy.”

|||

„Hey Sam, Kat” you and Colby walked into his room where he and Kat were laying in the bed. Colby asked „Guess what?”

„What?” Sam furrowed his brows.

„It’s official, you will be a godfather!” Colby laughed and you could see tears starting to pool in both boys eyes and not more than thirty seconds later Sam was jumping onto your boyfriend to hug him.

Kat laughed and hugged you while whispering gratulations into your ear.

Then Sam hugged you and Katrina congratulated your boyfriend.

„So…” Sam started still having wet cheeks but with wide smile „If it’s a boy you should give him a middle name Sam and if it’s a girl, you should name her Samantha.”

[little-diable]

First Impression – Billy Butcher (smut)

I'm back on my Billy bullshit, y'all just have to endure it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader needs a date to a gathering, and since Hughie can't keep any of her secrets, she finds herself tangled in a fake dating situation with Billy

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, choking, fake dating, friends to lovers, the reader has awful parents

Pairing: Billy Butcher x fem!reader (2.5k words)

“Just say it.” Billy’s voice echoed through her kitchen, darkening eyes set on her frame. An expression torn between embarrassment and annoyance tugged on her features, forcing a sigh to leave (y/n). She momentarily turned her back on Billy, allowing her eyes to flutter close while she took a deep breath. “C’mon doll, spit it out, I don’t have much time eh?” 

“Fucking Hughie.” The words left her like a whisper, making a breeze into a storm so furious no people surrounding her were safe. “Look, just forget it, okay? I’ll figure it out.” 

“No, that’s not the way we do it, and you know it.” A somewhat amused smirk began to widen on Billy’s lips, hand running along his beard as he kept watching her. It felt like he was interrogating her, which he kind of was, though not because of any supe mess they were tangled in, but because Hughie couldn't keep his fucking mouth shut.  

“Fine. I need a date for a family thing, I’m done with being looked down on because I apparently can’t keep a man for long.” Billy’s raspy chuckles flushed another wave of embarrassment through her, body finding shelter on the kitchen chair vis-a-vis his. Billy studied her for a few more moments, dragging out the passing by seconds he clearly found enjoyment in. 

“And you want me to be your date? Could have just said so, love.” He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smirk, arms crossed in front of his chest. (Y/n) fought against the angry groan wanting to leave her, making a silent promise that she’d strangle Hughie the next time she crossed paths with him. 

“I don’t want you as my date.” She stared him down, eyes challenging his without needing to speak any further words. Both knew that Billy had her trapped, both knew that Hughie knew all about the emotions both harboured, emotions not shared with one another once. 

“Why don’t I believe that? But, you sure you want your parents to meet me?” Amusement dripped from Billy’s words, slowly rising to his feet to round the table, hand finding her chin before (y/n) could pick up on his movements. “I wouldn’t make the best impression as your boyfriend, would I?”

“You’re a fucking cunt, Billy, but Hughie’s right, you’re my best shot.” His thumb ran along her lower lip, tongue kissing his teeth as he pondered over her words for a few beats of his calmly pounding heart. 

“Well, what’s in for me then?” 

…… 

“Fuck, doll, you want me to concentrate on anything while you wear this?” Billy’s eyes wandered down her frame, taking in the dress she was wearing, fingers aching to feel the fabric. His cock twitched in his dress pants, begging to feel her close, wanting to bury himself inside of her as she’d choke on his name.

The memory of their first night together haunted Billy whenever he got a few minutes to let his thoughts wander, caught up in the sounds she had produced, her whimpers, moans, and the sweetest call of his name. Fuck, he wasn’t proud to admit that he had fucked his hand to the thought of her whenever he needed a quick relief ever since that night – something he had been aching for since he had been fortunate enough to bury his face between her tights. 

“Don’t give me that look, Butcher, otherwise we won’t make it to my parents' house.” Her chuckles left him smirking, hand taking hers as he walked her to the car, helping her inside. She didn’t pick up on the “Would that be so bad?” leaving Billy, unable to let go of the memories of (y/n)’s naked body thumping through his mind like a shot of Compound V. 

The drive went by too quickly, though (y/n)‘s eyes kept flickering down to the hand placed on her knee, thumb stroking circles into the fabric. The heat his touch pushed through her left her trembling, wondering if it was humanly possible to feel whatever she was now held hostage by. 

“So, you always run around dressed up like this when meeting your parents?” Billie’s teasing grin had an all too familiar touch to it, and yet she still wasn’t used to seeing it directed at her. She had always envied those that managed to gain his attention for longer than just a few seconds, painfully oblivious to the way he stared at her for minutes whenever she wasn't looking.

“You‘ll understand once you meet them.” 

……

“Fuck me, how did you turn out like this with an upbringing this fancy?” Billy murmured the words against her skin, breath fanning her neck as he held her close. Their eyes wandered through their surroundings, taking in the strangers that filled her parents' mansion. (Y/n) barely recognised any of the people walking past her and Billy, not sparing the two a glance. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She turned around in his grasp, eyes finding his as she sipped on her champagne, hand finding the back of his neck. He looked undeniably handsome, the suit hugged his frame perfectly, an unfamiliar, welcomed view, even though (y/n) would always prefer his Hawaiian shirts. 

“Oi, you know exactly what that means, eh?” His smirk left her giggling, eyes rolling as she murmured a soft “You cunt”. Their bickering was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat, forcing (y/n) to meet two pairs of all too familiar, curious eyes. Her parents stared at her and Billy, all too obviously wondering who the man was. 

“Mom, dad, it’s good to see you.” She shared a quick hug with them, nothing warm nor soft, perfectly matching the rather distanced relationship she and her parents had never worked on. “That’s William Butcher, my boyfriend.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Billy shook their hands before his hand found his way back to (y/n)’s waist, softly squeezing her side. He could tell that she didn’t feel comfortable, counting the passing by seconds till they could leave without her parents noticing. 

“Well, it was time for you to finally settle down. Let's hope you won't mess it up this time. You two should come visit soon, now, if you’ll excuse us.” With an almost pained gaze she watched her parents disappear, blending in with the big crowd all too easily. Only the pressure Billy used to squeeze her waist managed to rip (y/n) out of her thoughts, forced to blink away her tears before she dared to meet his dark eyes. He studied her for a few seconds as if he was looking at a painting, trying to decipher symbols, trying to match meanings to colours. 

Wordlessly Billy began to pull her through the crowd, fingers interlaced to keep her close. The chilly air wrapped itself around them like a translucent veil, hugging their limbs as they walked through the quiet garden. (Y/n) wasn’t used to feeling Billy close, at least not this close, and yet it felt as if she had dared to taste the forbidden fruit, already addicted, unable to work against the crush she had harboured for endless weeks by now. 

“You okay?” His murmurs broke the comfortable silence, hand finding (y/n)’s warm cheek. Their eyes didn’t dare break contact, forced closer together till not even a piece of paper would fit between them. Billy had always been gentle with her, not daring to toss her around like the rest of his crew, but the way he looked at her in this very moment was unfamiliar, nothing she could pinpoint. 

“I’m used to it, it keeps on hurting, but I’ll be alright. Thank you though.” A few more moments passed before Billy closed the gap between them, lips finding hers. Her surprised gasp rumbled through her, vibrating on the lips that moved in sync with hers. (Y/n)’s hands found his neck, toying with the dark hairs she had pulled that night when he had fucked her into oblivion, making her forget her own name. 

“Want to get out of here, doll?”

……

The door to her apartment fell close with a thud, sound swallowed by the moan leaving (y/n) as Billy hungrily kissed her. His hands worked on her dress, letting the fabric fall to the ground, with his suit jacket following moments later. Wordlessly she guided him into her bedroom, thoughts set on the orgasms he’d push through her system that night, desperate for any kind of distraction. 

Both parted to allow Billy to undress, giving (y/n)’s eyes the chance to wander up and down his frame, already aching for his touch, needing to feel his hands on her skin, between her thighs and on her chest. With only their underwear clinging to their frames, they found one another again in her bed, sharing kisses as Billy pressed her against the mattress, trapping her. 

“Won’t be gentle with you tonight, doll, hope you know that.” She could only moan in response, begging him to leave his marks, to remind her of the power he held over her. Billy’s mouth found her collarbones, kissing them as his hands worked on her bra, freeing her breasts. Ever since they had slept with one another all these weeks ago, (y/n) had tried to mimic his touch whenever she was needy for another high, and yet she had never managed to take care of herself the way Billy could. His big hands worked on her breasts, tugging on her hardening nipples, sucking on them to force a few more moans out of her. 

She felt his cock pressing against her thighs, aching to feel her wrapped around him, to feel her close. Though before (y/n) could even dare to think of touching him, Billy murmured her name, commanding her to hold still. 

“Hands over your head where I can see them, tonight is all about you, doll.” A whine of protest left her, a sound Billy couldn’t help but chuckle at. His eyes kept staring her down as he worked on her panties, pulling them down her leg to gain access to her dripping folds. “You’re soaked, baby. All for me, huh?”

“Fuck yes, just for you.” The second his tongue brushed her folds, (y/n) threw her head back, allowing her body to produce the most sinful sounds. Her heart was racing in her chest, working on the adrenaline he pushed through her, leaving her trembling beneath him. Billy’s tongue worked in wicked ways, pushing her closer to the edge in no time as he dug his fingers into her skin to keep her close. 

“How many can you take, eh? Two? Three?” (Y/n) couldn’t reply, eyes squeezed shut in order to stop herself from giving in, not yet ready to let this moment pass. Without another warning, Billy pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls like his cock would do in a few minutes. His name rolled off her tongue like a prayer, and yet the moment was too sinful for any god to hear the call, letting the devil darken the clouds above them. “Atta girl, so good for me, don’t know how I’ve managed to refrain from fucking you for the past weeks.”

She wanted to reply, wanted to tell him that she had struggled just as much, and yet no words managed to push past her lips. All (y/n) could do was choke on her gasps, on the whines he coaxed out of her, about to let go. But Billy knew her body all too well, letting go of her before she could fall from the cliff, allowing the heavenly feeling to rush through her. 

“Condom?” (Y/n) pointed towards her nightstand, watching him pull the silvery packet free as she was catching her breath, trying to find words she could use to curse him, hating him from pulling away too soon. Her lust drunken eyes watched Billy free his cock, rolling the condom down his twitching cock, aligning himself with her heat. 

One of his hands found her throat, keeping her pinned to the mattress as he pushed into her, forcing her walls to adjust to his girth. Both moaned in unison, foreheads pressed together in a desperate try to ground themselves. Their hearts kept skipping beats, unable to hold back as Billy started moving, building a ruthless pace that made (y/n) claw her fingernails into his shoulder. 

Their bodies moved together, skin meeting with every thrust that pushed them closer to the edge. Billy’s hand tightened its grip on her throat, heightening her senses, making her blood rush in her ears. (Y/n)’s gasps for air left him smirking, finding a sick sense of satisfaction in the way he had her trapped, how easily he could guide her body like he was owning her. 

“Billy,” she moaned his name, glassy eyes finding his, begging him to keep on going. “Fuck I’m close.” The sensation he had ripped from her moments ago was back, flushing through her system like a drug, pushing her towards the edge once again. He didn’t reply, kept ruthlessly snapping his hips against hers, not daring to let go just yet. 

“Look at you, drunk on my cock, so desperate for me.” His words left her groaning, eyes fluttering close as her orgasm washed through her without another warning. With a smirk tugging on his lips, Billy watched her come undone, fucking her through the sensation till his own orgasm started to rock through him. 

Their trembling bodies stayed connected for a few more moments, trying to catch their breaths before Billy parted from her. He got rid of the condom, wordlessly cleaning her up with a towel, careful not to put pressure on the marks his lips and fingers have left on her skin. 

“You okay?” He kissed her, arm finding her waist to pull her close. She nodded her head as a content sigh left her, head placed on his chest. His fingers drew shapes into her skin, letting his thoughts wander till her soft whispers interrupted them. 

“Will you leave again?” (Y/n) could still remember the morning she had woken without him near, disappearing in the middle of the night. Back then she hadn’t been able to bite down her hurt, feeling used by the man she couldn’t help but long for. 

“Do you want me to?” Their eyes met as (y/n) tilted her head towards him, hand cupping his bearded cheek. She gave it a few seconds before she softly kissed him, murmuring a quiet “Never”.

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Nanami x Reader Fanfic Part 3

 Despite your crippling fear of men, your family sells you to the Doll House. Luckily, you end up with the handsome, gentlemanly Nanami as your trainer, and he’s about to show you how great a man can be.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Nanami’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

The book series the characters are discussing is The Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson. Jasnah and Shallan are both from it. Everyone please go read it because it’s amazing (and fall in love with Kaladin just like everyone else, in universe and out). 

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Daddy kink. Hair pulling. Oral sex. Fingering. Spanking (with hand). Divider by @benkeibear!

Four weeks into your training, you and Nanami are both sitting in your chairs, reading. You adore these quiet moments between you two, where you’re both doing something you love, together. Nanami always seems so relaxed and comfortable sitting there, a heavy book in his lap, his reading glasses slipping down his nose. You’re happy he can feel that way in your presence. 

The feelings you’re starting to have for him… they’re dangerous. He’s explained to you already that you should avoid developing an attachment to him, because he’s not going to be your long term owner. You understand that. But while you are a little less scared of men in general (you can talk to most of the other trainers at dinner now without nearly having a panic attack), you’re still terrified of the idea of some strange man taking you away from here. Away from Nanami. 

“You’ll meet the buyer a few times before you go,” Nanami has told you. “He won’t be a complete stranger to you.”

You were slightly relieved to hear that, but you still felt a knot in your stomach when Nanami casually spoke of another man taking ownership of you. Won’t he miss you? How does he keep training women and then sending them away without a care in the world? 

Did the previous women feel this way about him? Did they get this close to him? These questions haunt you.

You close the book in your lap, finally finishing the second book in the series Nanami is lending you. At your pace, you should finish the third one before you have to leave. The books are massive though. 

He looks up. “Finished?”

“Yes, just now.”

His eyes seem a little warmer as he asks, “What did you think of it?”

Outside the window you tried to crawl out of once upon a time, snow is falling silently. There’s already a blanket of the shimmering diamond dust on the ground outside, making the warmth of Nanami’s room all the more cozy.

You tuck your legs under yourself and say, “It was amazing! That climax was incredible!”

He smiles and nods. “I thought so too. Have you chosen a favorite character yet?”

You think for a moment. He asked you the same question when you finished the first book, but you wanted to read more before deciding. Now, you think you have your answer. “Jasnah. She kind of reminds me of you.”

Nanami looks surprised. “She does?”

“Yeah. She’s super smart, mature, collected, strong, beautiful…”

He raises an eyebrow at that last word. 

“Uh, I mean… you’re… very handsome. But you know that already,” you say awkwardly. 

“I appreciate the compliment,” he says. “I think my favorite is Shallan. She’s a bit of a mess, but she’s trying.”

You feel heat creeping into your cheeks. You saw so much of yourself in Shallan that you almost didn’t like her. But she’s Nanami’s favorite? Maybe he thinks more of you than you thought. 

“I hope I can finish the third book by the time I leave,” you tell him. 

“You will. And you can take my copy of the fourth with you. Think of it as a gift.”

You blink at him. “A gift? How did you know my birthday is tomorrow?”

His eyes widen slightly. “Tomorrow is your birthday? I didn’t know. The book was going to be a farewell present, so I’ll get you something else tomorrow.”

You quickly wave your hands in a dismissive motion. “Oh, no, you don’t have to get me anything!”

“Let’s see, how about a nice dinner?” he asks, ignoring your protests. “I’ll make reservations in the morning. And we’ll need to get you something appropriate to wear. The restaurant I have in mind is high end.”

High end? So he’s taking you some place fancy. You remember your aunt taking you to fancy restaurants a few times in your teenage years, but you had panic attacks when any men came near. You probably scared the poor waiters half to death. In the end, you had to leave before the food was even served. By the time you reached adulthood, your aunt stopped trying, which meant she also stopped buying you fancy dresses to wear. 

The next morning, Nanami takes you to a boutique in town and instructs the stylist working there to help you find something suitable. He waits patiently while you try on several dresses, finally settling on a red, form fitting one with a high neckline to balance out the rather daring slit up to your hip. The stylist announces that the two of you have chosen a dress, and from the fitting room you hear Nanami’s voice ask, “Would you like to show it to me?”

“Not yet,” you call back through the curtain. “I want it to be a surprise tonight.”

After putting back on your regular clothes, you step out to find Nanami at the counter, paying the exorbitant price for the dress, as well as shoes and a long coat you’d picked out first. You told him you already had a good coat, but he insisted. 

Back at the Doll House, Nanami politely stepped out so that you could get ready. He was wearing a fine suit that looked ridiculously expensive and his hair was neatly styled back from his face. He looked so handsome, you almost asked if you could spend the evening in bed with him. 

One of the other dolls, the one being trained by Choso, worked in a salon before being a doll. You suppose that explains Choso’s constantly changing hairstyles, but you’re pleasantly surprised when she offers to do your hair and makeup for you. When she’s finished, and you’re wearing your new dress and shoes, you’re shocked by how fancy you look in the mirror. It’s been so long since you dressed up for anything, you’ve nearly forgotten how nice it feels. 

You pull on your new coat, which is long enough to conceal much of the dress. It’s beautiful, with fur trim, and very warm. There’s also a pair of sleek leather gloves laid out for you to wear. You wonder why he wants you to dress so warmly. Maybe he wants to take a romantic stroll through town. 

When you step into the welcome room, Nanami is waiting for you. He offers his arm to you in his typical gentlemanly fashion and the two of you step outside into the cold winter night. 

You stop short as soon as you walk out the door. There in front of the entrance is a beautiful horse-drawn carriage. The entire thing is white with gold trim, even the horses are the color of snow. Now you know why Nanami wanted you to be warm. 

He goes over to the carriage and opens the door. A step lowers down from the side and Nanami helps you up and into the seat, then sits beside you. There’s a heated blanket folded neatly on the seat across from you, and Nanami spreads it over both your laps. “Not too cold, are you?” he asks, sliding one warm arm around your shoulders. 

“No,” you say, still a bit awe struck, “it feels nice.”

“I’ve noticed you like to watch the snow falling outside the window, so I assumed you like snow,” he says. 

He’s been paying that much attention to you? The thought makes your heart flutter. “I love snow,” you tell him, looking up at the dark sky. The snow is falling softly but steadily, in a way that will only leave a thin coating on the ground. It’s breathtaking. 

As the carriage moves to the road, you can’t help feeling like a Princess. The sound of the horses’ hooves clacking on the road is comforting, and you end up leaning your head on Nanami’s shoulder, savoring his heat. 

*************

After the carriage stops in front of the exclusive French restaurant Nanami made reservations at, he stands up and climbs down, then helps his doll move down the steps provided. She seems breathless and excited, which is exactly what Nanami was hoping for. He knows being out in public, around men, makes her nervous. The plan was to make the trip there so unique, she wouldn’t have the chance to let her anxiety build. He also called ahead and requested a woman to be their server. He wants this to be a special night. 

Once inside the warm, well lit restaurant, Nanami removes his outer coat and hands it off to an attendant. Then he steps behind his doll and gently removes hers. After handing it over and turning back to face her, he finally gets to see the dress she has chosen.

He nearly stops breathing. She’s so stunning in the long red dress, the slit on the side going almost scandalously high, that he’s not sure he’ll be able to remain a gentleman tonight. At the moment, he wants nothing more than to take her home immediately and fuck her into the mattress. 

But tonight isn’t about what he wants. It’s about her, about celebrating the day she came into this world. 

So he holds out his arm and she takes it, curling her elbow around his to interlock herself with him as they walk through the restaurant. Nanami reserved a secluded table next to a large window, so that she could have an excellent view of the town and the falling snow as she enjoyed her meal. 

He pulls out her chair for her and then takes his own. She seems a little bit nervous, but relaxes when a woman comes to the table to ask what the couple would be having to drink this evening. Nanami orders champagne after confirming his doll likes it, and the two of them look over their menus as the server walks away. 

Once dinner is brought out, Nanami is impressed with the doll’s table manners. She grew up in a wealthy family, so he supposes it shouldn’t be a surprise, but the way she gracefully eats her meal and sips her champagne seems at odds with the awkward woman who ran to the bathroom to scream a few weeks ago. He still chuckles to himself when he remembers it. 

“Do you always take dolls to fancy restaurants like this?” she asks. 

“No, this is the first time, actually,” he replies. 

She seems surprised. “Really? So why me then?”

“It’s your birthday. And I haven’t been here in a very long time. I don’t enjoy eating here alone,” Nanami tells her. 

“I see,” she says, and he wonders why she sounds just a little disappointed. 

“That being said,” he adds, “if I’m going to bring someone here to eat with me, I’d prefer to bring a beautiful, intelligent woman like you.”

She blushes and looks back at her plate, making Nanami smile. They make pleasant conversation for the rest of the meal, then when his doll is finished eating, she suddenly touches her ear and says, “Oh no, I’ve lost an earring.”

There’s something strange about the way she says it, as if she’s not really worried, but she stands up from her chair and looks around on the floor. 

Nanami’s eyes scan the floor around the table as well. “I can ask if someone can help look for it,” he says, starting to get up himself. 

She holds up one hand to stop him. “No! It’s okay. I can find it!” Then she pulls the fabric of her dress up and to the side and gets down on her knees. Perplexed by this odd behavior, Nanami watches as she crawls beneath the table, disappearing behind the thick white tablecloth. A few seconds later, he feels her hands on his thighs, rubbing along the inner sides, then nudging them apart. 

He freezes, the glass of champagne in his hand halfway to his lips. For a moment, he sits perfectly still, feeling her hands working at his belt, then opening his pants. Then he slowly sits the glass back down and subtly lifts the edge of the tablecloth. There she is, his beautiful, awkward, sexy, silly doll, pulling his rapidly hardening cock from his pants and wrapping her red lips around it. 

He can feel her tongue gliding over him, coating him in saliva, her eyes staring up at his face. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, trying to maintain a stern tone but struggling to keep from moaning. 

She pulls away, strings of fluid connecting her lips to his tip. “I’m still hungry, Daddy.”

His self control is being severely tested. He reaches down and grabs a handful of her prettily styled hair, pulling her face back down and effectively shoving his cock back into her mouth. 

Fuck, she’s good at this. Her tongue never rests, her lips are tightly locked around him, and she’s making the hottest little “mmmm” sounds he’s ever heard. It’s a massive struggle to keep his composure. 

His blood nearly freezes in his veins when the server approaches the table. He hopes the tablecloth hides his lap well enough as he smiles politely up at the woman. She smiles back and says, “Will you be having dessert this evening?”

“No, thank you,” he says. 

“And what about your date?” the server asks, probably assuming his doll had went to the restroom.

His grip on her hair tightens and he pushes her head further down, stuffing her little throat beneath the table. “I believe she’s quite full,” he says smoothly to the server. 

After a few more words and leaving the check behind on a silver tray, the server leaves. Nanami lifts the tablecloth again and looks down. The lovely face looking up at him nearly makes him cum on the spot. “You’re being very brazen tonight,” he says, keeping his voice even with great effort. “Such a bad girl. I hate to have to punish you on your birthday, but you leave me no choice.”

Excitement flashes in her eyes. He’s been with her long enough to know what thrills her, what turns her on. And nothing gets her wetter than a good “punishment”. 

He can’t hold out any longer. He pushes her head down again and says, “Don’t make a mess. I don’t want to see a drop on your dress, or my pants.”

She doesn’t have a chance to respond before he cums directly into her tight, hot mouth. He can feel her tongue and throat working to swallow all of it, sucking the life out of him. He suppresses a groan and hopes no one in the restaurant saw the shudder that just rippled through him. 

A minute later, his doll crawls out from under the table and he helps her to her feet. She takes a napkin and wipes her mouth daintily, as if she hasn’t just guzzled his cum. Then she holds up a dangly silver earring and says, “What luck! I found it!”

He can’t stop a grin from spreading over his face, or the massive hardon already building in his pants. There’s no way he can wait until they get home. He leaves a generous tip for the server and then takes his doll by the hand, leading her out of the dining area. He finds the “powder room”, which is structured like a restroom without the toilets. There’s a sink, a mirror, and a wide, padded bench. Apparently it’s a place for people (probably women) to freshen up. 

Nanami confirms the room is empty, then locks the door. He sits down on the bench and then pulls his doll toward him by the arm. Using rough but fluid movements, he forces her to lie stomach-down across his lap. She gasps as he moves one hand under the slit in the dress, stroking her thigh, then pulls the fabric up, exposing her black lace panties. His hand moves over her ass, relishing the feel of the plump flesh, the way she’s already trembling beneath his touch. 

He pulls off his black silk tie and uses it to bind her wrists together behind her back. Then he pulls her panties down to her knees and gives her bare ass a harsh smack with the palm of his hand. 

She lets out a small cry, probably trying not to make too much noise. “I’m sorry, Daddy!” she says. She’s not sorry at all, judging from the lusty look in her eyes. 

Smack!

“And what are you sorry for?” he asks. 

Smack!

She whimpers and squirms in his lap. “F-for being brazen and shameless… and…”

Smack!

“And?” he says.

Smack! 

“For risking us getting caught… and embarrassing you.”

He gives another smack, marveling at the reddened, heated skin where his hand hits. Then he slides his hand down between her thighs, feeling how wet she is, smearing her arousal all over her backside. When he pushes two fingers inside her, she moans and jerks in his lap. He pumps them in and out while she wiggles around, releasing little cries of “ahh ahhh!”

When she’s on the edge of cumming, he withdraws his fingers and gives her another smack, harder this time, and she jolts from the sting. That’s the limit of his self control. Nanami lifts her up and shifts them around so that she’s face down on the bench, her ass in the air, her beautiful red dress bunched up at her waist, her wrists still tied together behind her. And then he’s burying his cock in her dripping pussy while she cries out a little too loudly. 

He gives her raw ass another smack as his thrusts get deeper, and she clenches so tightly around him that he sees stars. Three more smacks and she’s cumming on his cock, crying and quivering, her makeup ruined by her tears. Almost immediately after, he reaches his limit, shooting his cum into her core. 

For the next few minutes, they sit side by side on the bench, just catching their breath. Then they quietly help each other clean up and his doll fixes her hair and makeup as best she can at the sink. She catches Nanami’s eye in the mirror and gives him a sweet, warm smile. 

She’s incredible, he thinks. She’s incredible and she’s his. At least for now. 

The thought of his time with her being temporary has been on his mind lately, and he can’t seem to stop thinking about it. He feels so comfortable with her, as if he’s truly home when she’s by his side. She stimulates him both physically and emotionally. Lately, he can’t seem to picture his life without her in it. 

There is a way she could stay with him, and he’s given that a lot of thought these past few days. But what would she think of the idea? 

On the way home, in the carriage, he watches the snowflakes collect on her hair and leans over to kiss her, his hand finding hers under the heated blanket. 

The carriage drops them off back at the Doll House, and as they walk through the parking lot, still holding hands, Nanami broaches the topic to her. 

“Are you aware that all trainers at the Doll House are allowed to keep exactly one doll they’ve trained?” he asks. 

She looks at him, eyes wide. “No, I didn’t know that,” she says as they near the door. 

He reaches out and opens it for her. “These past few weeks have been wonderful. If they’ve been the same for you… I was thinking of ‘keeping you’. How would you feel about that?”

She’s stepping through the open door when the words hit her. Just inside, she whirls around to face him as he follows her in. She opens her mouth. “I-“

“There you are!”

A feminine voice cuts off his doll’s reply. The two of them look up to find an older, classy looking woman standing in the lobby. 

His doll looks shocked. “Aunt Rina?”

Aunt? So this is the woman who sold off her own terrified niece to the Doll House.  Nanami instantly dislikes the woman, but he keeps his expression politely neutral. 

Aunt Rina places one jewel-covered hand on her hip. “I’ve been waiting all evening,” she says to her bewildered looking niece. 

Then…

“Pack your things. I’m here to take you home.”

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr

[xoxo-sarah]

Ms. Perfect

↝a/n: this is an old idea that I had in the back of my notes app. Oops.

↝pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

↝warning: death, widow!Reader, apocalypse, mean! Daryl, swearing, not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 4.23.24

Daryl wasn't sure why he hated you so much. You were nice to everyone around you, even understanding. But the sight of you makes the blood in his veins boil.

It became a routine; you and him sniping at each other, digging up trauma neither of you really wanted to. He just got under your skin. Like now.

“Sorry, in case you haven' noticed, the world ain't all rainbows and sunshine anymore. We don't shit money to buy the newest thing. Life is different, Doll. Get used to it.” He drawled, his eyebrows scrunched together.

There he goes again.

You weren't even talking to or about him, but he had heard you. That had been enough for him to butt in, apparently.

Ever since you had stumbled your way into Daryl's group early on, Daryl had had it out for you. At the creek, he would be pointing out how your hair had to have been done recently. Your jewelry, clothes, how smooth your skin looked from the expensive moisturizers and night creams you had to use, your newly manicured nails- ignoring the dirt and blood underneath-, and the shine in your eyes. You didn't have the shine at first, but when you would hang out with Carol, you would smile, and the recent glazed look was gone.

Your eyes shone brightly like the stars in the countryside. Not that you would know. You probably never had the chance to see how bright the stars shone in the city.

You were unbothered by the people at the campsite, keeping to yourself. You didn't have to worry about anything when the world was built for your liking and convenience.

Daryl despised you and that god-awful rock on your finger that could feed him for probably 6 months to a year. He glared at the ring every chance he got—so much so that you eventually yanked it off, throwing it in the murky pond.

Even after leaving the campsite, you stayed with the group, arguing with Daryl along the way.

“I get it, you're used to having people do everything for you, but we're not always going to be with you, Princess. Sorry life now is so much different from your perfect life before.” For a quiet guy, he always had so much to say to you. All negative.

You bit your cheek, glancing from Maggie—who you were originally talking to—to the dirty man in front of you. "Yeah-I had the perfect life. I had the fiancé that I couldn't wait to marry. I had the apartment that I had the luxury to design with my mother, gushing about the difference wallpapers." You smiled at the memory. Your mother had been so happy for you. "I had the fluffy dog that had its own room. I had the dad who would always talk about playing catch with his future grandchild. I had the money where I didn't have to worry about anything in life." You didn't falter as you felt behind your eyes begin to burn. " I did, alright? I had the life that almost every little girl dreams about. But it was yanked out of my hands, like everyone else's. One day, I didn't wake up to my fiancé kissing me, or the smell of burnt toast-- cause he didn't know how to cook. I woke up to him nowhere in sight. Instead, I heard yelling outside the door, car horns honking outside of the windows. When I opened the door, I saw my neighbors with white eyes, growling and clawing at the skin of the man I was going to marry and grow old with. His screams will haunt me 'til the day I die. But you will not ever hear me feeling bad for myself. I did have the perfect life, but that doesn't matter now. So, get over -yourself-, cause I am just trying to survive just like you."

Daryl watched your eyes gloss over, your nostrils flare. You were rightfully pissed. And right. He hadn't heard you weep for your past-- ever. You had jumped right into survival mode as soon as he laid eyes on you. You had held your own too- most people called you a badass, Daryl wouldn't let himself verbally agree. With that, you turned and walked away. Maggie shuffled awkwardly, glancing from you to Daryl. She wore a disappointed frown.

Weeks. You ignored his existence for weeks, 2 weeks to be exact. Everytime he would go up to you, you would walk away. Even if you were in the middle to a conversation. The person you were talking to wouldn't mind, really. They would've known about your bitter back-and-forth. They wouldn't think anything of it.

Daryl just wishes you would give him a chance to at least try to apologize. After you had let your walls down and told him about what the end of the world was like for you, he felt bad - pathetic, even. He was so jealous about how you lived before the outbreak, he didn't care about how it had affected you. He should've.

The moonlight led him towards your house, his hands fidgeting. The streets were silent, everyone already in bed. He hadn't been able to sleep. The thought of you kept him up in a different way than before.

His knuckles hovered over your door. You had to be in bed. Was it worth it? You would probably be too tired to yell at him. He knocked.

It took a minute for the door to open. You stood, rubbing sleep from your eyes, a sleep frown on your face. At the sight in front of you, your hand dropped, your sleepy eyes immediately rolling in annoyance. "Oh my god-" You tried to close the door, but his boot caught it before it could close all the way. "Move your foot, Dixon."

"Listen." His eyes were pleading, something you weren't used to. You kept the door open when he reluctantly moved his boot. " 'm sorry."

You scoffed, Sure, you are."

" 'm serious. " He looked at the floor as he brought his hand up, turning it and showing his hand. "Not sure why I kept it." At the sight of your ring, tears bordered your eyes. Your head pressed against the side of the door as your body shook with a silent sob. Daryl didn't look at you. He let you grieve for whatever you wanted to in that moment. He let you have that moment. After your sobs died down, his calloused hand took yours, opening your hand and dropping the ring into your palm.

"You're a dick." You hiccupped.

"I know." 

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[honeybeefae]

Forgotten Ties (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Summary// Years trying to forget him. Years forming a new life, a new home, to try and rebuild what he had so carelessly thrown away. Only for it to all come crumbling down with a single meeting.

(Okay I totally wrote this all at once. It’s just an idea I had, I’d love to write more parts if y’all want! It’s a bit different from what I usually write so I hope you like it!❤️)

Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

Playlist for Story

WARNINGS: Slight angst

You lived with your daughter Helena in the Rainbow district of Velaris, having moved here shortly after giving birth thanks to a friend who opened up her home to you.

Being from the Autumn Court you had never known the beauty of the Night Court, especially Velaris, and even now you were still blown away.

When you had moved here you offered to create some gowns for your friend to display, to try and gather some money for rent and your child, and were surprised at how fast they were snatched up. It was so successful that you eventually had the money to open up your own store.

The shop you owned was small, squished between a pottery shop and an artists den. You were a seamstress just as your father was. You loved the intricate patterns you could create with your fingertips, how the different fabrics mixed and felt. It was something you had grown up doing and had also seen you through the trials under the mountain.

The nights were tireless, the days long as you took care of your daughter while also running your business. However you never let Helena see your worries. She was your entire world, the light of your life, and you did not want her to fuss over you.

She was a spitting image of her father with her auburn locks and amber eyes. You never regretted having Helena but you wish you hadn’t been so naive when you had met that man, hadn’t believed his lies and sweet words.

He still haunted your dreams to this day. The nightmares were of him leaving you the day you were all freed, passing you by as if you didn’t exist. The dreams were of the nights you spent together, the promises you had made and the comfort of his arms.

You kept a napkin next to your bedside table so you could wipe away the tears before Helena ran into your room in the mornings.

“Mama! Mama! Can I have this one? Pleaseeee?” She whined, breaking you from your thoughts as you turned to the window full of dolls.

The two of you were strolling through the shops on your way home. It had been a rare day off and you took her out to go see the ships sailing away with a picnic by the sea.

“Helena, don’t you already have that one?” You smiled lovingly, brushing the hair out of her eyes as she pouted. “Your entire room is filled to the top with dolls.”

“But not this one!” She argued, crossing her arms.

Your shoulders shook with a chuckle as you shook your head, placing a hand on her back and ushering her forward.

“Perhaps another time, love, maybe we can-“ You stopped in the middle of your sentence when you looked down the street, seeing someone you had never thought you would have to see again.

He was the same as you remembered, though he seemed to have more frown lines. People were whispering as he walked beside the High Lord and Lady, his hands behind his back as he took in the city.

“Mama?” Helena tugged on your arm, a worried look on her face. You took a deep breath and gathered yourself together, bending down to Helena’s height.

“I’m alright, darling. I just need you to hold mama’s hand tight, okay? We need to get home now.” You tried to say softly though even you could hear the urgency in your tone.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, observant as always. You kissed her cheek and stood up straight, grabbing her hand.

“Nothing, I just forgot that I left the stove on! I need to go turn it off.” You lied through your teeth, not waiting to see if she bought it as you started speed-walking through the crowd.

You had to go the way the trio was coming in order to get home so you did your best to lay low, weaving through the crowd like a snake. The sign of your shop started to peek through and just as you made into the clearing, you heard your name.

“Y/N!” Feyre called, waving her arm. You winced, closing your eyes. “Y/N! I need a favor from you, from Nesta!”

If you pretended you didn’t hear her you could be home within minutes. However, you knew she knew you had heard her. You pushed Helena behind your skirts and turned to your High Lady, bowing.

“What can I help you with, my lady?” You asked, giving her a small smile.

Feyre rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Please, there is no need to be so formal. Nesta was wanting a dress tailored for her for Solstice.”

“I can certainly do that…though it is short notice.” You point out, smirking. Feyre nodded and apologized on behalf of her sister but you assured it was fine. Nesta had become somewhat of a friend to you as you were apparently the only person who could get her outfits “right.”

“I appreciate it, Y/N.” She smiled, noticing Helena peering out behind you. “And how has this little princess been?”

“She’s been good. We just-“ You were cut off by Rhysand’s sudden appearance, his violet eyes warm as he gazed at Feyre. However you didn’t have time to dwell over the love between them as their visitor also appeared, his eyes widening when they connected with yours.

Tension was heavy in the air as you felt your heart stop. You felt warm and cold at the same time, your stomach twisted in so many knots that you were afraid you would vomit up your lunch. It felt like time stood still until he whispered, “Y/N?”

You took a step back, your heart breaking at hearing your name off his lips. It was too much. And Helena…

She was looking up at you innocently, red curls framing her face perfectly. You looked down at her, your lips parted, before back up at him.

“Do you know her, Eris?” Rhysand asked, his tone confused as he sensed something between the two of you.

However Eris was paying him no mind nor you. His gaze was entirely fixated on your daughter who was now clinging to your dress. You could see him studying her, working through dates in his mind, and watched as his face changed from confusion to shock.

“Goodbye.” You croaked, barely giving your High Lord and Lady a glance as you picked up Helena and tore through the crowds at breakneck speed. She was holding onto you tightly, mouthing of questions about the man with the red hair, but you couldn’t hear her over the roaring of your ears.

Eris stood there, watching you disappear with a child…a daughter.

His daughter.

[coolprettyleo]

my soul has changed? - will smith au

wc: 1.4k

tw: depression, suggestion of an ED, awkwardness? mean girl.

will smith x oc celebrini sister!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

april celebrini was in a point of her life where everything felt still. she was pretty sure she was suffering from depression and it was a cycle she didn't know how to get out of.

she would wake up, go to school, go to work, and then sleep. she was lucky if she fitted a meal in between that meant she had lost tons of weight.

she had been a pretty healthy teen, she played hockey up until high school alongside her brothers; but when the time came to play college hockey, she got no offers. contributing to her depression.

it was a sport she held so much love and dedication, she couldn't understand why she hadn't been good enough? I mean her brothers were good enough, they got college offers. macklin was even projected to go first overall, so why couldn't she?

those were thoughts that were constantly haunting her mind. if she found something to forget them they would flood back in, like if they wanted her to be a lifeless doll she had been feeling like.

her family had been really worried for her. she had finally seen her brothers after a year, at the NCCAA playoffs and it only caused them to worry more.

flashbacks

april knew that macklin and aiden were gonna bombard her with questions as soon as they were alone. they could hardly recognize her. growing up she was always a smiling person with a big personality and now she was about forty pounds lighter and was a ghost of the person she used to be.

"april what's going on" macklin said shutting the door behind him.

"what do you mean"

"cut the bullshit. I know your not okay, you barley answer my text anymore, what's wrong"

"it's nothing mack-"

"no it's not nothing, maybe I can fix it-

"you cant 'fix' it"

"and why not-"

"because I don't know what wrong with me!"

that had been about two weeks ago. she just didn't know what to tell her family. she really didn't understand why she had been feeling that way.

she was currently at work where she was a barista in a cute coffee shop. she honestly loved working there, she had got the job when she was in high school and had kept it till college. seeing as she didn’t move far away for college, choosing to stay close to her parents.

she often wondered if she might be happier if she moved away just like everyone else did, just like her brothers did. but it would always end in her telling herself; that it's not worth dwelling on.

it was currently six am and at this time of day there weren’t many customers. the cafe was always busy mid day when people were looking to find somewhere to study.

so she was surprised when she turned the open side around, to find a boy waiting outside to come in. a boy who looked a lot like will smith.

april wasn’t an idiot to hockey, she kept up with it a fairly good amount, so she would have to be living under a rock to not know the guy who dominated the ice at her brothers rivalry school.

that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to act like she didn’t know him.

he reached for the handle and took a look at her before turning as red as a tomato and blushing,

“hey, are you guys open?” he asked nervously, mentally slapping himself because he just saw her turn the sign around, to ‘open’

“uhm yeah I’ll be with you in a sec” she told him.

will couldn’t help but think her voice was cute. she had a rasp to it that made him want to give her everything she’s ever wanted.

april finished up, putting the coffee too brew and turned to the counter.

“okay! order when your ready”

“uhm. i actually never been here before… any recs?” he asked after a moment nervously scratching his neck.

“well I get a dirty chai, but considering my brothers hate it, you might hate it too… I guess you might like a frap?” she told him, a little too monotone.

“yeah okay” he told her again nervously. he found her to be breathtakingly beautiful.

he paid and stood back as she got to making the drink.

“you from here?” will asked hoping to make small talk.

“uhm kinda. I was born in Vancouver but moved here when my dad got a job”

will panicked. oh god was she still in highschool

april must of saw the worry on his face because she added,

“that was a couple years ago, im eighteen now” she said smiling at his face. something she didn’t do often anymore.

“oh, i’m eighteen too”

“oh yeah, what brings you to san jose, school?” she said innocently knowing very well he was drafted here and was most likely here to work on development.

“no. I”m came to meet with some people here. I go to boston college” he answered. april starting to not feel so bad because she saw he didn’t want to right away say he was a hockey player.

“far from home huh”

“yeah, i’m literally across the country from everything and everybody i’ve ever known” he told her wanting to slap himself. did she need to know that!?!

“i’m sorry. it’ll get easier” she said remembering her brother had been homesick too but utimatly started feeling better after some time-- as she handing him his drinks and gave him a sympathetic face.

“yeah i hope so, i should be moving here soon, if everything goes right” he said as he took a sip.

“hey this is good!” he said taking another sip as april smiled. something that will thought looked amazing on her.

april smiled at him remembering the fact her brothers liked that drink. boys were so typical

“i’m glad… and hey— if you ever need a friend in town my names april” she told him as she held her hand out to him to shake.

will starred at it for a moment before he quickly met her hand.

“will” he told the girl with a smile.

they were cut out of there moment when two customers walked in.

“I should get back to work. i’ll see you around will” she told him as he smiled a nodded and walked right out.

say something! ask for my number! do anything!

april felt really dumb after she basically just presented herself in a silver platter to the boy and he didn’t finish his part in asking for her number. he had definitely rejected her in the nicest way someone possibly could.

meanwhile will got into the Uber with a gitty feeling. she seemed really cool and having someone to hang out with other than his teammates was going to be so nice.

he was midway into the meeting with some general managers when he realized he didn’t even ask for her number.

“oh my god” he mumbled as he came to the realization

"i'm sorry?" one of the GM's said confused.

“uhh— I said I was excited to join the franchise!” he covered up, feeling like an idiot.

hopefully she was still there after the meeting.

the meeting had gone a little to long for his liking and as he raced down to the coffee shop he hoped she was working a long shift.

he opened the door to see a blonde girl who looked old but yet looked young, and a taller boy with curly hair working behind the counter.

“hi. is april working today?” he said breathlessly

the blonde eyed him for a moment before smirking,

“I don't recall an april ever working here...my name samantha though” she said with a face that will knew was a face of someone who was lying.

“yes there is, she helped me earlier-"

“if your here to file a complaint against her, I can totally help you then,” she said

“no she was great— wait, you said you didn’t know an april-“

“your looking for april” the other barista cut in

“yeah she was here earlier, i was hoping she was still here”

“she got off like two hours ago but i can give you her number!” the curly haired boy told will. he was one of aprils friends and he wasn’t going to ruin this opportunity for her.

“you totally can’t do that!” the blonde girl said in a nasally voice.

“shutup samantha. go take candy from a baby or something” he sassily told her.

she rolled her eyes before walking away to wipe a table down.

“sorry about her, here’s her number— good luck!”

“thankyou so much” he told him as he thought about what exactly to text the pretty girl.

both april and will not knowing the epic love story they were about embark on.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

hi guys! i hope this is kinda good, dont feel shy to send in ask and au thoughts… i like never get any but im so open to it!!

[killzenin]

˗ˏˋMR. KILLERˎˊ˗

★—where geto works as a scare actor in a haunted house!★

💭—its just me and my murderous pookie bear against the world ✋🏻😞

📍MINORS/BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT, mutual masturbation, teasing, begging, spit, established relationship (friends with benefits), fake bl00d, quick/hidden sex.

in the dim light that came through a small window by the top of the haunted houses closet door— the crimson substance, that was a good substitute for blood, painted part of geto's face. along with a poorly sown 'stitch' that ran along his forehead. his appearance provoked a stir of emotions within you. geto looked eerie, and dark and mysterious. this was a now certified guilty kink as your cunt spasmed and sucked in around his slender fingers.

"ughh~yess fa-faster suguru, please-ahn~!" you mewl into geto's neck, trying to keep as quiet as you could while the pleasure he ensured made the pumping you did on his cock sloppy.

geto's ring and middle finger slide themselves in and out your squeaky, wet pussy with quick ease. while his thumb playfully fondled your clit in circles, stimulating the knot of pleasure building up at the base of your stomach.

"you ready angel? is your pussy stretched enough to take me?" geto said in-between shaky breaths. you nodded urgently as you detach yourself from his neck to face him, not caring if he fitted inside or not.

a string of drool escaped geto's lips and aimed towards coating his angry red tip as a means of lube substitution. you soon followed dripping your own drool onto his tip, smearing the leaking precum and saliva all over his length.

you were perfectly aligned to recieve geto from where you were sat on some wooden boxes. as you kept stroking along his coated cock you whispered, "come closer."

he obeyed to your commands. inching closer to you, as your hands still on his length, you lead it to tease around your longing pussy lips. the both of you couldn't keep at bay the lusty moans as both caressed on each other.

"sugu~mmm, need you~!" you pushed his cock head to peek inside your entrance, not even halfway in and the fullness you felt made your sweet moans to echo through the small room.

geto had to silence you down to his displesure, wanting to hear more of his little angel's squeals and moans. so, the two fingers he previously used to bully your pussy, found shelter in your mouth as he finally pushed himself inside of you with a heavy thrust.

your eyes rolled back by such intense pleasure while you tasted geto's fingers enveloped with your juices. geto was merciless pounding on you, abusing your cunt to his fullest desire. you couldn't help but wrap your legs around his waist and your pussy around his girthy cock.

"oh baby, just like that~ fuck'n cum all over me angel." his free hand roughly gripped onto your waist, deepening his thrusts. his voice, your constricted moans, as well as the sloppy melody of your bodies skin slapping in the constricted room, made you reach a quick orgasm.

your orgasmic slick began to drip to the floor as geto still pistoned himself inside you in full bliss. geto felt your gummy walls contract onto him, encouraging him to reach his own orgasm.

your gaze was fixated on your sex-friend, watery dolled up eyes met his. the two fingers he placed in your mouth still rested there. the lewd face displayed by you made geto pull out and cum right then and there, without a care if he came too soon. painting your fucked-out pussy lips creamy white.

taking out his fingers you became quick to confess, "fuck me dressed like that again." geto's eyes broke free from his trance, from watching your cunt shudder with cum all over to see you face to face surprised.

"sugu you look so fucking hot, i wanna get fucked by you again like this."

geto adored your idea, his heart thumping like a wild rabbits foot with excitement. "then let's ditch this place and let me fuck you the way you want angel." he whispered while helping you down and adjusting your skirt and panties up. geto straightened his attire and you both hurried away from the haunted house straight to his home to continue what you had started.

MORE OF MY WORK HERE!

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated💕

[cupids-scream-queen]

🦃Turkey Time with Brahms Heelshire🌽

(Surprisingly, not a crackfic.)

Happy early Thanksgiving!

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: unprotected sex, mommy kink, biting, slight blood kink, idk. It's sex. There's sex in it.

Summary: She tried to make a Thanksgiving dinner, but Brahms decided to give her the orgasm of her life.

Thanksgiving was fast approaching, and she had barely anything prepared. It wasn't as if she had family to invite over—she left everyone in America, everyone she'd known and cared for, all for a stupid job where she could be a social recluse in the countryside. It sounded absolutely wonderful, actually, and looking past the obvious red flags—she was happy.

The doll she was originally hired to nanny was of a boy, and she wasn’t particularly creeped out by it. She presumed it was haunted, alive, or any number of things, and it didn’t bother her at all—she herself was strange and unusual in that sense.

She thought nothing of the parents of the doll, she just figured it was a strange sort of coping mechanism from two heartbroken parents about the death of their real boy—but nothing really prepared her for when the doll was revealed to be a ruse and the boy was alive, and living in the walls of the manor. This, of course, was a little strange and unusual, but she didn’t really mind—she was hired as a nanny, and she was going to nanny, whether that be a doll or a man-child who lived in the walls all his life.

It was nearly a month since she discovered the secret, and though it made her wonder a few things (mostly what the fuck the man was doing), once she saw the mask, she put the pieces together—the boy was alive, and his parents were just batshit crazy.

Though she was a recluse, her mind often wondered if Brahms had experienced any sort of holiday properly—if he got Christmas presents, if he’d experienced Thanksgiving (though she knew that Thanksgiving was not an English holiday, she still wished to celebrate it), if he’d had an Easter egg hunt. She decided, then, that she was going to show Brahms every holiday he’d missed out on, and she started with the first of many: Thanksgiving.

She was trying to surprise him, the turkey in the oven and the potatoes heating up, she was in the kitchen, her hair tied up in a neat bun, her apron overtop her work clothes, her eyes scanning the cookbook propped open on a pot in front of her. She was a sight to behold, and she felt like a housewife—but a paid housewife, which meant she wouldn’t be complaining anytime soon.

The smell was delicious, the food was to be impeccable, and she was certain that Brahms would enjoy the meal she’d made for him. She was excited to see the movements of joy pop up from him, his stiff porcelain mask concealing facial expressions, but she knew she’d be able to tell if he was happy.

Currently, she knew she was being watched. From a peephole, in the kitchen, she was always being observed by Brahms. She didn’t particularly care, she wasn’t doing anything that she needed privacy for, but she wanted to see if Brahms would get involved in the process.

“Brahms? Do you want to come out?” She called, and she heard a shuffling movement coming from behind her. Without warning, she felt the arms of the man wrap around her, the cool mask pressing into her neck. She didn’t jump, she didn’t scream, she just let him stay there.

“Do you want to help me cook?”

“Yes,” The child-like voice of the man was not as off-putting the more she heard it. She didn’t quite understand why he used it, but she didn’t judge—the man was living in the walls, he didn’t have the most normal of upbringings.

“If you want to help, you’ve got to let go of me, Brahmsy,” She said, her voice soft and gentle.

“No, I want to be close,” Brahms squeezed her harder, pressing her up against his body. He was warm, and she cold, but she felt the small twinge of something pressing into her.

“How close, Brahms?” She asked, and he pressed up against her more, allowing her to feel his hard cock. She let out a sharp release of air.

“Close,” He said, his voice no longer child-like. His full, proper, man voice. Soft and gentle, yet still somewhat demanding.

“Brahms, I’m making dinner,” She protested, but Brahms was having none of it. Quickly, he turned her around, pressing her up against the counter as she looked up into the eyes of the man in the porcelain mask.

“Please,” He whimpered, and she was inclined to give in, give him what he wanted. But a small part of her wondered how far she could get with teasing. How far she could provoke the man until he caved in and did everything that he desired towards her. That small part of her became larger the longer Brahms kept pressing himself up against her, his dick deliciously hitting her clothed pussy.

“If you’re a good boy,” She said simply, and went to turn back around to focus on the cooking. Brahms yanked her away, causing her to drop a spoon on the ground. The loud clang of the spoon did nothing, Brahms still dead set on getting what he wanted. And she found it adorable, and hot.

“I’m a good boy, I’m so good, I can make you feel good,” Brahms pawed at her shirt, desperate for her to take it off. To his dismay, she didn’t oblige.

“If you’re a good boy, you’d help me cook,” She batted his hands away, looking into his piercing green eyes. “You’ll get your reward if you help mommy cook.”

“I don’t want to help mommy cook. I want to make mommy feel good,” Brahms groaned as she touched his clothed dick, tempting him with what could happen. Only tempting, not giving.

“Brahms,” She palmed him again, causing him to latch onto her, not wanting to let go. “You’ll get more if you help me prepare dinner.”

“Please, please mommy—” Brahms was practically jelly against her at this point, his body completely giving up and allowing her to pleasure him. He loved it. He needed more of it.

“You’ll get more if you help me, baby,” She promised, and it only took a few more minutes of this before Brahms agreed. Fine, he’d help.

He’d help her solve her problem.

He allowed her to turn her back on him, before he lifted her up, kidnapping her into the bedroom. He moved quickly, and she didn’t protest, she knew what she was doing in the kitchen. She enjoyed this part of Brahms, the wild, untamed, needy part of him that would tip over and do things like this. He threw her on the bed, climbing on top of her in an instant.

She could tell from the glisten in his eyes that he was going to do everything and anything to her, and she was fine with it. She would allow Brahms to have his fun—after all, she’d be the one to discipline him later.

He slipped the familiar blindfold on her, not allowing her to see his face as he took off the mask. He started to kiss at her neck, biting, licking, sucking; she moaned, her noises causing him to take more skin in before he finally bit hard enough to draw blood—she moaned as he drank from the wound, lapping it up deliciously and allowing it to sting. His hands were roaming her body, his touch like fire on her skin. He pawed at the shirt on your body, before tearing it off with his bare hands.

Unclasping the bra, her breasts were exposed, his hands immediately covering them and flicking her nipples, causing them to become hard. He took the right one in his mouth, his tongue swirling around and his teeth grazing over the soft flesh. He took the left breast in his hand, his large, warm, beautiful hand. She wiggled under him, but he held her down as best he could with his own body weight, trapping her between him and the mattress. It was a delicious position for her to be in.

“Oh God, Brahmsy, you’re so good,” She was breathless, and she knew Brahms had yet to fully start yet. No, he was going to draw it out, make her wait, exactly as she’d done to him. She knew the risk of tormenting him like that, and now she was reaping the repercussions. Delightfully.

He laughed, his chest vibrating and his breath hitched as she continued to moan at his mouth, her fingers in his hair. She wanted to watch how his mouth came down on her nipple, how he looked when he was pleasuring her. She wanted to see all of him, and although she was patient, she had a desire to see the man behind the mask.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll never leave me,” Brahms growled in her ear, and she shuddered at the thought of him fucking her hard enough to do that. She moaned in response, her grip on his hair tightening. Brahms began to kiss and suck lower, leaving hickeys and bite marks as he made his way down to her skirt, before completely taking it off in one go.

“You’re wet.”

“It’s for you, Brahmsy,” She said, her voice tender, “it’s all for you.”

“Good. You’re mine,” He put his hand on her pussy, enjoying how she gasped at the sudden pressure. He looked at her panties—bright red, which stood out against her skin. He took them off gingerly, far more careful than he usually was. Her pussy was bare, and she felt his warm breath on it for a few seconds, before his warm tongue started to make its way from bottom to top. Her thighs clenched around him almost immediately, but he forced them open with his hands. She pulled on his hair, begging for him to go deeper. She felt his tongue enter her, and she moaned loudly at the intrusion. It was warm, wet, and wonderful—and he was fantastic at his job. Her body shook with a mix of pain and pleasure as he lightly bit on her clit, the nerves sending sparks up her body. He began mixing his fingers with his tongue, stretching her wide in preparation for what was to come.

She could barely think, her mind focused solely on Brahms. Until, suddenly, he stopped. His tongue was away from her pussy, his hands were finding a new home on her body. She moaned at the loss, and he pressed a finger against her lips. She smelled herself on it, and tenderly took his finger in her mouth, sucking. It earned a groan from Brahms, who was now focused on the main part of his goal.

He gave no warning when he pushed into her, stopping for nothing as he went as deep in her as he could. It hurt slightly, she could feel her eyes prick with tears of pain and pleasure as he started to thrust into her, roughly. He pulled all the way out before slamming back in, the bed creaking from his body movements. His hands were all over her, prodding, pinching, everything, until one of them found a home on her pussy, continuing to rub circles into her clit as he fucked her, moaning out her name as he continued.

“You’re such a good boy,” She gasped out, her breathing uneven. His pace was fast, nothing like it’d been before. “You feel so good, Brahmsy, oh my God—”

“Don’t leave,” His words were mixed with groans, his mouth finding her neck. He bit again, drawing more blood and lapping it up like a good dog. She wasn’t going to leave. Not after this.

“I won’t, I promise,” The words hung over as Brahms continued to thrust into her, his dick hitting her spot religiously and his cock fitting into her like a puzzle piece. It was thick, large, and fat—perfect for his girl to take. Because that’s what she was, his.

His thrusts got rougher, and his nails dug into her skin as he continued, and she looked beautiful. Brahms wasn’t quite sure what love was, but he understood lust, and knew that he was lusting after her, and she felt the same towards him. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her every movement, her body arching as she came closer and closer to absolute pleasure. He was doing that to her, and it was the greatest accomplishment he could do.

He could feel her clenching around his cock, drawing him in closer and closer. Her moans were more frequent and high-pitched, and she was scratching at his arms, her nails digging in, creating the most wonderful pain. He kept going, chasing after his own pleasure, knowing that he’ll give her hers.

And he was right.

He continued to rut into her, feeling himself being drawn closer and closer unto the edge. He was finally ready, his dick aching for release, and his girl was spread out for him, open, and ready to take it. And she was going to. She came first, her pussy clenching and coating him in a layer of her cum. He then thrusted roughly into her, his dick reaching new places as he came in her, thick layers of cum shooting into her. She could feel some of it leak out, and she whined as Brahms continued to thrust, even after his release, until he pulled out, his breathing deep and heavy.

He collapsed onto her, and she wrapped her arms around him, keeping him close. He could feel her heart beating out of her chest, telling him that he’d done a good job. He smiled at the praise.

“Brahmsy, I’ve still got to make dinner,” She said, and he whined. “If I don’t go, I might ruin the turkey.”

“Stay,” He said, his voice childlike again. “I did good.”

“Yes, you did wonderfully, but I need to get dinner ready,” She carefully peeled him off of her, and she heard the familiar snapping of the mask, signaling it was safe for her to pull off the blindfold. “Are you going to help? You can mash the potatoes.”

“Okay,” He said, and that was all there was to it.

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary:  Six months after being released from prison and cleared of murder charges, you and Arthur are finally getting married. All you have to do now is hope for the wedding day to be spared from some Shelby chaos. Featuring John Shelby x Reader.

Words: 6k

TW:  tooth-rotting fluff, light angst, allusions to smut, one ruined wedding cake, Tommy not being a dick for once, otherwise it's a well-deserved soft chapter to start this new act. Let's not break your heart too soon.

Notes:

✞ This chapter is the beginning of Act II of Heaven in Your Eyes. The timeline is S4.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The beating in your heart was so erratic, so fierce, that its constant drumming echoed in your skull and ears as painfully as if someone was smashing your brain with a hammer. You clenched your jaws at the painful bite of the rope the police officer behind you had placed around your neck. The way the noose compressed your windpipe, already giving you a foretaste of what was awaiting you, made the act of breathing laborious. Sucking on a sharp breath, your throat whistled like a dying bird. Down below I go, you thought while nervously playing with the wedding ring Arthur gifted you weeks ago. He had barely made his proposal when policemen snatched you from him and threw you both in jail. With your back straight and your crystal eyes glaring at the officers who were present in this slaughter room, you managed to keep your dignity. They might hang you, but they would not see you cry. In fact, if you went down they would have to watch you, so that your piercing irises would haunt them until, one day, Death would come for them too.

I love you Arthur. 

I love you Dad and Mom.

I love you little sister.

I’m so sorry I’ve failed you.

Could you ever forgive me?

Your teeth dug into the flesh of your inner cheek as seconds flew, each bringing you closer to your inevitable end. 

“WAIT!!! PLEASE WAIT! ” 

A far cry in the distance. Were you dreaming? Or were demons already afraid of you down in Hell?

Officer Kat Wilson’s heart missed a beat when the familiar voice boomed in the warehouse, as loud as a foghorn. The blonde policewoman turned around, eyes filled with hope as she saw the silhouette of Sergeant Moss bathed in the blinding outside light that had rushed into the place when he had opened the warehouse’s heavy doors, “Do not kill her! We’ve just received a new order from the Crown: Heaven Lavey and Polly Gray are proven innocent of the crimes they had been accused of.”  He said, forehead glistening with sweat. He had probably run as fast as possible to deliver the news quickly. Kat Wilson felt all of her muscles relax at such an unhoped-for plot twist.

“Take the noose off her neck now.” She ordered, trying his best to sound strict despite Moss standing right here,  running out of breath.

Innocent? Take the noose? Sentences were melting in an intelligible treacle because of the emotional roller coaster you were undergoing, hence you only caught a few words. When your mind finally made sense of what was happening, a long sigh came out of your quivering lips. Then, the policeman behind you set your throat free. You blinked several times and looked at Officer Wilson, who replied to your confused gaze with a faint, supportive smile illuminating her usually oh-so-severe traits. Then, she proceeded to free you from the handcuffs that were sinking into the frail flesh of your wrists. As she did, Kat brought her lips near your ear and whispered so only you could hear, “Arthur’s safe. The warrant includes the Shelby family too. I’m sorry for the mess, doll. ” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and glanced at the woman, trying not to let too many emotions show. Not that you wanted to play the tough girl, but you were so overwhelmed by your feelings that you were not even able to let out anything except confusion. It was all… Too much. “You knew they were going to release us.” You stated with a quiet but still slightly shaky voice as the revelation struck you. 

“Let’s say I hoped they’d interrupt your death sentence in time.” Her soft yet hoarse voice replied, highlighted with a cunning little something.

Kat Wilson gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before leading you outside the sinister warehouse, unwilling to provide you with further details. And somehow, you did not bother to ask. The only thing you wished for was to run away from this killing floor. Thus you walked bare feet on the gravel ground, the peaky sensation of the tiny stones against your flesh keeping you grounded to reality, andyou stopped in the middle of the yard. There, you threw your head back and closed your eyes,  relishing the soft caress of the wind on your face.  You breathed a sigh of relief, for the clouds above you had shifted from the sun, whose rays were warming up your frozen skin. 

You were alive. 

“Heaven!” A woman voice called you.

You reopened your eyes and looked around you, “Oh my God, Polly!” You suddenly exclaimed when you recognized her. Seeing Aunt Polly running to you and almost tackling you in a desperate hug was all it took for your emotions to finally flood you. Tears dawned at the corner of your eyes as you pulled her into a deeper embrace. Polly sobbed in your arms, her body quivering because of her cries.

“I saw them Heaven! I saw the spirits. Oh bloody hell, the spirits…” 

“I know Pol,” You tried to comfort her the best you could, your grip tightening around the poor woman in the hope of helping her calm her panic attack. Still, you knew she was shaken to the core by her freshly canceled rendezvous with Mr. Death, “Everything’s fine,” You whispered, and let one of your hands lose itself in her short dark hair, “I hear them too.” You admitted. Polly gradually grew quieter in your arms, running out of tears. Nevertheless, you did not let her go. What you did, though, was to silently thank the policewoman with your gaze, your irises sparkling with genuine gratitude. No matter her role in all this mess, you knew Kat Wilson contributed to setting you free. 

You were alive.

Alive, for sure, and indescribably furious. 

1925 - Six Months Later 

You had been absentmindedly looking at your reflection in the mirror for long minutes when someone knocked at the door and snatched you from your contemplative state. A growl escaped from your lips for you had let everyone know you did not want to be bothered— truth be told, you needed a bit of time alone with you to soothe your anxiety. However, the uninvited guest came in before you allowed him to do so.

“True gentlemen wait to be invited before entering a room, you know? Especially when a lady is in it. ” You said with a faint smirk on your plump and glossy lips as you recognized the guest by the sole fragrances of his cologne. 

“A part of me hoped to see you undressed, that’s why I didn’t, little Angel.” The masculine voice answered, its tone filled with tease. You snorted at such a stupid answer, kinda expecting it, and rolled your eyes in amusement.

“Idiot.” You simply retorted, glancing at him through the mirror you were still facing.

“Idiot? That’s it? I’m used to better roast from ya, eh!” John exclaimed, surprised by your lack of wit. He wanted to tease you again you but your sudden silence kept him from doing so. Something was off. Worried, the young Shelby brother frowned a little bit and walked to you, not minding your desire of being alone. You jumped slightly at the sensation of his two large and warm hands squeezing your upper arms, “Oi, Angel.” He gently called, the tenderness in his voice wrapping you in a comforting haze, “Tell me what’s wrong please…” 

For sure John Shelby had a soft spot for you since the day Arthur introduced you to the family. No one had ever doubted it. Without the slightest explanation nor apparent reasons, you both immediately grew fond of each other from the moment your eyes met. In truth, your relationship with the Shelby family had been quite tricky for months following the first meeting. Most of them didn’t want you to be a part of the clan, partly due to the witch rumors around you and Arthur’s obsessive love. It was only now, a solid year and one murder later, that everything had started to flow more smoothly with them. Even Esme, who had been terrified of you and would usually avoid you at all costs, had learned to live with your presence in the family. According to Polly, you had deserved your place among them more than any other women the boys brought home. The only threat to this harmony had been and still was Thomas Shelby himself. The mutual resentment you shared for each other was rooted in deep and far too complicated reasons, the most recent one was him selling you to the police for murder charges. However, you came to terms with the idea of maintaining a mutual hatred as long as he did not step between Arthur and you ever again. 

So, apart from Tommy and Esme, you were now getting along with everyone. But with John… With John, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced, apart from Arthur. Whenever your man wasn’t there, John would do everything that was in his power to keep you company and bring a smile to your face. Not only he loved to visit you and spent his free time with you, but he truly cared for your well-being. Sometimes he would make a surprise visit to your house. In fact, he would stand there on your porch with the most adorable smile you had ever seen etched on his lips, a basket filled with food in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other. When Arthur and you decided to leave Birmingham, your heart ached at the thought of moving away from John. Following your departure, rumors said John’s eternal smile had not be seen for weeks. However, once you had well adjusted to your new routine, even distance could not shake your unique bond: John never ceased to visit you when he could.

“What’s the matter, little angel?” He inquired, genuinely concerned by your silence and the melancholic gleam in your aquamarine eyes. 

“I’m scared John. I’m fucking scared.” You finally admitted, closing your eyelids a few seconds to take a slow inhale. The weight in your chest had vanished from the moment words left your mouth.  At such a surprising answer, the young gangster’s grip tightened on your arms and he gently forced you to turn around to face him. Still, you avoided his gaze, fearing judgment. 

“It’s your wedding day, Heaven. What are you scared of?” He carefully asked, taking care not to make you think he was mocking or judging you.

“I’m scared because now I’ve got something to lose,” You fell silent for a tiny while, fighting again the desire to remain silent, but you knew you could open up to him, “I have a magnificent house in the forest cradled by the sweet chant of a peaceful stream. I have the loveliest man I could have dreamt of by my side, who loves me to the moon and back. God, I even got a dog!” Another brief pause you took to avoid crying, “And one day there will be one or two kids…” John listened to you carefully, still wondering what the problem was, “If I'm being honest, I’ve never thought I would be allowed to be this happy. At one point in my life, I got used to the idea of dying alone,  hunted down by bad memories, and drown by guilt. But, look at me now. Look how far I’ve come… That’s why I’m scared of losing it all. Fuck, John — I’ll die without him.” 

To your greatest surprise, the young gangster replied to your lament with soft chuckles, “Heaven. I don’t know what it is between Arthur and you, but I’ve never seen a love fiercer than the one you share. Bloody Hell, you’re so addicted to each other it’s even a bit scary sometimes, not gonna lie eh,” His fingers trapped your chin in one soft movement and, with indescribable tenderness, he raised your head so that he could observe each trait of your angelic face, “Having something to lose makes you cherish what you have even more. Plus it doesn’t mean you’re gonna lose it. “ The corner of his charming lips curled in a sweet smile, “Moreover, there’s more chance for Tommy to like you than for Arthur to leave your side. He’s not gonna let you go… To my greatest sadness.” John winked at you and, despite everything, his last flirty comment managed to make you laugh.  Sometimes, you didn’t know how he always succeeded in cheering you up but still he did, “Listen, I knew you’d be a bit nervous for your wedding day, so I got you a little surprise.” 

“A surprise?” You asked, curious, wiping away the tiny tears that had formed in the corner of your eyes while being careful not to ruin the stunning siren-eyes makeup Ada did. It would be a shame to have more mascara on your cheek than on your eyelashes the day of your wedding. John walked to the door and put his large hand on the knob, looking at you to maintain a small suspense “I know he’s not supposed to see you before the ceremony but he would not stop crying without you so…” He was about to open the door when he stopped mid-action, “Oh and I’m not talking about Arthur by the way. Even though I’m pretty sure he’s also doing that.” 

“Fuck off, John boy.” You poked your tongue out, feeling cheerful and far less anxious thanks to him. He grinned in reply and finally opened the door.

“Oh! This is... So cuuuuute!” You almost squealed, for you were welcomed by the sight of Kaiser, the huge Cane Corso Arthur’s had brought home one night, sitting in front of the door with his mouth open in a big smile and with his drooling tongue hanging, “Come here big boy!” You called him, kneeling on the floor without minding your wedding dress now that your fur baby was here. Kaiser did not need to be asked twice: he walked to you and put his huge head between your frail hands to get his scratches, looking at you with so much love in his hazel eyes you could not resist smooching his wet snout “I can’t believe you’ve put a bow tie to my dog!” You laughed, “Look at this distinguished gentleman... He’s gonna steal all the women!”  The massive beast barked loudly as to agree with you. You delicately wrapped your arms around his muscular frame to hug him, the sensation of his fur against your face erasing the last bits of anxiety left in you “Oh you’re the most handsome man of the whole family, baby Kaiser... Yes, you are. ”

His tail wagged. Of course, he was!

“Couldn’t participate in the wedding if he wasn’t all fancy, eh. I've also put a fake mustache on his snout but he ate it so I gave up on the idea,” He shrugged, “I thought it would make you laugh and help you relax.” 

“Thank you, John! Thank you so much, you’re lovely I swear.” You said, looking at him with your gaze filled with genuine affection all the while cuddling with Kaiser, who seemed to be in paradise judging by his blissfully happy face. 

“So — are you ready?” John finally asked.

“Yes, I am.” You replied, then stood up and took a quick look at your reflection in the mirror to fix your long white mane, which had been styled in wavy and adorned with a few diamonds from there and then, giving your hair an otherworldly shine. As you focused on your hairstyle, John rearranged your dress. At one point, he stopped what he was doing to look at you with a dreamy expression. 

“You’re stunning, little angel. Fuckin’ bewitching.” He whispered before shaking his head, “Let’s find your man now, eh. Alright?” You nodded, the butterflies in your stomach flying at the sole mention of Arthur.

“I’m ready but before we go can I ask you a favor, John?”

“Anything.” 

“You know, I’d have loved my family to be here. Mom would have been prolly crying during the whole wedding in Dad’s arms while my little sister would have thrown white petals at everyone’s face for fun…” You let out a charming but oh-so-sad chuckle “But no matter how fiercely I’ve prayed for it I know they won’t be there. So I’ve got two choices left: either I walk alone to my husband or I ask someone to accompany me.” You had barely finished your sentence when the celeste blue of your eyes dived into the sky blue of his, “I’d like you to escort me down the aisle, John.”

He remained silent, stricken by surprise at such a touching demand.  He had not been expecting it. Words were at loss, however, they were not necessary for you to understand his answer:  as the sun rays crossed through the windows and enlightened John’s face, you could see the precious shine of one sole crystal tear running down his cheek.

The powerful sound of the organ resonated in the whole church, the vibrations of its melody resounding in Arthur’s chest and making him tremble from within. He was standing in front of the altar with his manly hands interlocked in front of him. For the occasion, he had bought the most elegant and expensive tailored three-piece suit he had ever owned: he was dressed in all black, except for the white shirt he was wearing under. Moreover, Tommy had put some traditional white flowers in the pocket of his vest, while Polly had slipped an emerald pillar pendant around his neck and hid it under his shirt before he entered the church— a marriage blessing, from what he had understood from Polly’s emotional speech. The woman was so proud of her older nephew she could not help but already weep with joy. Arthur nervously glanced at his brother who was standing by his side, slightly in front of him at his best man’s place.  Then, his steel-blue eyes shifted from Tommy and searched for his Aunt, who sat a bit further in the audience beside Ada and Finn. To be honest, Arthur’s anxiety kicked in. The more the second passed, the more the unpleasant impression his heart was about to burst from his chest was overwhelming. Nervously spinning one of his silver rings, he tried to control his nerves the best he could but it was harder than he thought: a part of him, admittedly irrational, was terrified by the possibility of you not showing up.

What if you’ve changed your mind? What if you’ve come to the conclusion you did not want him? What if your wedding did not work out, just like his first one? Maybe the problem hadn’t been Linda but him? 

As was always the case when he was panicking, his self-whipping thoughts banged together in his skull like a hive of furious buzzing hornets. Nevertheless, Arthur knew, deep down, that you were soul mates and that there was no actual reason for you to flee. What really helped him to calm down though was taking a deep inhale and focusing on the hundred of candles’ flames that were illuminating the room with tiny dancing flames. A comforting wave of warmth almost immediately wrapped his heart as he did, for this church was the place in which you met for the very first time. He still clearly remembers the fire that had lit in his dying soul at the way your fingers grazed him when you had cleaned the blood off his face with a torn piece of your own dress. Not only had you purified his soiled skin, but then you had allowed him to put his head on your thighs and proceeded to pet his hair all the while lulling his demons to sleep with that enchanting voice of yours. From that night, Arthur made a promise to Almighty God, who had been kind enough to answer his prayers and sent him his most precious Angel. And that promise was that he would marry you in this same place to show God how well he would treat you and how happy you would be with him.

The organ roared louder in the church all of a sudden, causing him to refocus.

 You were coming.

The gangster straightened his back, quickly slicked his hair back one last time to look perfect for you, and then stared at the church’s heavy wooden doors with both anxiety and anticipation in his eyes. His blood boiled with impatience, for you had been separated for too long because of the traditional “don’t see the bride before the ceremony” the Shelby women — and John — had insisted to establish. That being said, it had been torture for Arthur, who was aching so much from your absence that he felt almost as bad as when he went through rehab. Hands shaking, cold sweat running down his back, breath hitching, Arthur could definitely not live without you by his side. — you were the most exquisite drug ever created, against which even opium could not even compete. 

The doors opened and panic rushed even more brutally into his being. At first, he thought he was about to die from a heart attack, but then, all these negative feelings vanished in dust when his piercing blue irises met your tantalizing silhouette. When you erupted from the almost supernatural light that was surrounding you, Arthur widened his eyes and stopped breathing. Here you were, your seductive body adorned with a graceful Greek goddess-inspired dress whose cut let the pale flesh of your back for the world to see while also forming a graceful and long wedding cape that was cascading down your shoulders. The whiteness of your outfit, equaling the wonderful snow-like color of your hair, was enhanced with gold jewels: armbands and a choker. One look at you was all it took for Arthur to feel the stinging of uncontrollable tears dawning in his eyes, for a tsunami of emotions had crashed in his soul at such a holy sight. As you walked to the altar at John’s arm, the wind blew in the church and made your cape dance behind you. For a few seconds, Arthur was convinced he saw wings in your back. Mighty feathery wings. 

Divine. It was the only word that came into his mind when he watched you breaking the distance between you. And the more you approached, the more he was stunned by your ethereal beauty. So stunned he had to keep himself from falling on his knees at your feet, deeming himself unworthy of standing in front of such a pure seraph. Even Tommy, whose resentment for you was a secret to none, found himself in awe at your pulchritude. He, along with the groom, had to blink several times to make sure they were not dreaming. 

Your glossy lips stretched in an enamored smile overflowing with emotions when you looked at your future husband: he was so charming in his suit that you fell in love with him for a second time. Your grip tightened around John’s arm for your heartbeat quickened until you finally rejoined Arthur. As soon as you reached him, the tall gangster took you by the hands — yours: small, delicate, and freezing. His: large, calloused, and burning. You dived into each other’s eyes, and the rest of the world disappeared. 

“You’re so handsome.”  You whispered, causing an adorable pink shade to blossom on your soon-to-be husband’s cheeks. 

“C-Come on. Did ye see yer own reflection? Ye took me fookin breath away, Angel.” His hoarse replied.

“Arthur, we’re in a church.” You discreetly snorted.

“Oh Fook. I mean shi— Whatever.” He slightly stuttered. At this moment, it did not matter that he was a grown man in his mid-thirties: he felt like a flustered teenager in front of his first crush all over again.  And to be true, so you were — to the point you both did not hear much of what the priest was saying, for you were far too hypnotized by each other’s presence as well as fighting hard against the urge of devouring each other’s lips. The only moment you both came back to your senses was when you had to pronounce your vows.

Then came the final moment.

Arthur Shelby, do you take Heaven Lavey to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and to honor her all the days of your life?

I do. He answered with haste. You trapped your lower lip between your teeth, gathering all your strength to hold your emotions, but the crystal tears in your aquamarine eyes betrayed you. 

Arthur Shelby, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

The caress of your fingers along with the cold sensation of the golden ring on his skin sent shivers down his spine.  Observing you as you sealed your love by slipping the ring around his finger,  Arthur’s smile grew a bit larger and made his teary eyes squint, digging adorable crowfeet at their corners.

You can kiss the bride.

The priest’s last words brought him back to life — that’s what he had been waiting for what seemed to be an eternity. Unable to wait any longer, the gangster brought one hand to your cheek and broke the excruciating distance between your lips until they crashed together under a thunder of applause. The feathery caress of his moustache on your skin mixed with the sensation of his eager mouth warmed you all over. Arthur deepened the kiss by parting his lips slightly so that his tongue could find its way to yours and give it a gentle stroke. But while hungry, the press of his mouth remained chaste. Carried away by his softness, you felt your body flickering in his arms, as fragile as the church’s candle flames.

You were his, he told it to himself. And he was yours. All yours until death tears you apart.

No, fuck that Reaper cunt he thought, even Death would not keep him apart from you.

The hundreds of candles and lanterns that were scattered through all Arrow House’s garden enlightened the night with their warm hue. Shortly before the wedding, the Shelby family suggested hosting the party in Tommy’s Mansion rather than in your place for practical matters. By celebrating your marriage in Arrow House, all the family and, by extension, friends, could reunite together without having to drive for miles. Moreover, the mansion was far bigger than your and Arthur’s house, which made the place far more convenient for partying.  For the event, all of Arrow House and its gargantuan garden had been decorated with lights, candles of every kind, white drapes, and flower wreaths that gave the place a supernatural atmosphere. The cheerful cacophony of chatter and music hovered above the garden as the guests were indulging themselves with food, alcohol, and innocent fun. Even Officer Kat Wilson, who had been invited following her implication in your release from prison, spent the whole night partying with the Shelby family.  Surprisingly enough, no one dared to disrupt the celebration with illegal activities. Just a few bets here and there. The only incident to declare had been the moment when Arthur, faithful to himself, almost smashed someone’s head in the wedding cake —he got angry when one of the guests looked at your cleavage—.  However, if Arthur failed with ruining the cake it had not been Kaiser’s case, who ate half of it by himself. 

“Where are Arthur and Heaven? Can’t believe the bride and the groom had disappeared!” Polly asked Tommy and Ada, visibly unhappy. The latter was a bit tipsy judging by the red shade of her cheeks and the glass of champagne in her perfectly manicured hand.

“Last time I’ve seen them they were dancing with flower crowns on their heads,” She hiccoughed, “I nearly died from laughing. Arthur. With a flower crown. It was so sweet and ridiculous!”

“That ain’t fun, Ada. I really need to find those stupid lovebirds. I swear I’m going bonkers: first Arthur’s tantrum, then Kaiser ruining the wedding cake, and now the newlyweds are late for the picture!” She complained. Overall, it had been Aunt Polly who made sure everything ran smoothly, hence her discontentment.

Tommy rolled his eyes at his sister’s inebriation, then he squeezed her shoulder with his large hand, “I think your question will find its answer really soon, Pol.” He stated with his quiet and deep voice as his turquoise eyes caught sight of your silhouette walking toward them, holding Arthur by the hand. You were both exchanging glances and light enamored laughters.

As surprising as it sounded, Thomas Shelby and you had managed to put your mutual hatred aside for the sake of the wedding. Of course, you were carefully avoiding each other the best you could, but when you were together in inevitable family moments, your exchanges remained polite. 

Polly turned to you with her eyebrows furrowed and pressed her fists on her hips with an angry- mother expression when you and Arthur joined the small group.

“Ah! There you are! The photographer has been fuming for half an hour! Where have you been?” She scolded. 

“We really need a map. This place is a fookin’ maze eh. We got lost.” Arthur tried to justify himself, his fingers firmly intertwined with yours, “I mean I wanted to show her the mansion but hey, I quite forgot which way to go and —“

“Arthur?” Polly cut him.

“Eh?” 

“Your fly.”  She simply stated. Holding much power, those two tiny words made Arthur almost jump. He let go of your hand in one vivid movement.

“OH FOOKIN HELL!” His gravel voice exclaimed when he looked down at his trousers. He quickly zipped the fly up under Ada’s hysterical laugh and Tommy’s mocking smirk. Admittedly, you could not help but giggle too for his reaction had been quite priceless. Oh Arthur, you thought. The only one who was not laughing was Polly, who looked at him with such a desperate face that you were sure she was about to facepalm herself. Or slap his face, it depended on her mood.

“Men and their cock, I swear. Look at you, idiot,” She said affectionately, “Your hair is all messed up! You’re going to look awful in your wedding pic!” She growled, grabbing her oldest nephew to rearrange both his hair and his tie. 

“Don’t be mean Pol, he just needed to release the pressure.” You said, watching the scene with a faint smile on your juicy and glossy lips still swollen from Arthur’s lustful kisses, “The whole speech thing worried him.”   

“Mmmpff— true.” He grunted, embarrassed.  

“Yeah of course.” The beautiful Ada started before coming to you and smoothing the folds of your goddess dress with a teasing grin “What a long and difficult way to say you just wanted to give him a blowjob.” She teased.

“Piss off Ada.” You gently retorted, rolling your eyes in a fake outraged pout, “let’s take that picture before Polly strangle us all.”

“OI. Everyone fucking gather together for the picture! Bring the damn dog too!” Tommy yelled to the crowd, “John! Made them pose in front of the mansion!” Orders flew and Peaky Blinders were soon taking the crowd in charge to help the photographer take the most perfect picture he could take. When everyone was ready, he pushed the button of his camera and, in a blinding flash, captured the most beautiful moment of your whole life in a picture you would cherish like the apple of your eye.

“We… We really should … Like… At least try to get in bed.” You giggled, your cheeks still adorned with a pink blush. Admittedly, talking had become quite a challenge after the second bottle of wine.

“Not gonna lie, love, I can’t fookin’ get up for the life of me.” Arthur pulled you closer against his bare chest and slipped one hand into your messy long hair, not willing to move. The tenderness of his caresses made your whole body relax and you melted in the warmth of his freckled skin. To hell with the bed, you thought, the floor would do the trick. 

When the party had come to an end, Arthur had carried you bridal-style to one of the mansion’s magnificent bedrooms, despite being completely drunk. The whole walk had been tedious with poor Arthur staggering in the stairway, but you could not have cared less — you were as wasted as he was and could not walk anymore. Maybe the alcohol contest with Kat and Uncle Charlie had not been such a great idea after all… Once you reached the bedroom, Arthur and you collapsed on the large fur rug that was on the wooden floor and clumsily took off each other’s clothes between heated kisses and steamy moans. He had impatiently waited for the wedding night, calling you “Mrs. Shelby” and “me lovely wife” all the way. That being said, a few intoxicated chuckles had embellished the symphony of your love when alcohol made one of you missed the other’s lips. No one could tell how many hours went by nor how many times you made love — Not even you. You were only coming back to your senses now that you were both snuggling naked on the floor, your legs entangled and your mind still clouded with your latest orgasm.

“I don’t want this wonderful day to end,” Arthur said, his gruff voice finally breaking the comfortable and peaceful silence that had settled in the room. A slow and long exhale escaped from your nostrils at his words before you laid lazy kisses on his chest. Your lips, still hungry for him despite your drowsiness, trailed up until they reached the golden cross pendant he was always wearing. A shiver ran down his spine when you took it between your full lips and looked up to his eyes through your Bambi lashes, “Fook — you make me so… Happy.” 

“And I’ll do my best to keep you happy every day of your life.” You replied after a little while, setting the pendant free from your tantalizing mouth. “That was a pretty successful day.” 

“It was, eh.” Arthur softly smiled at your words, his piercing blue eyes enjoying your mesmerizing beauty and his long fingers gently massaging your scalp, “We got a letter and a bouquet from Mrs. Solomons, y’know. She wanted to come but her husband’s back was hurting too much. ” 

“Oh yes? Rosie is a sweetheart.”

“And her husband’s a cunt.” He growled, “Bloody bastard.”

“I know right? But she’s great. She’s been teaching me so many interesting things about feminism! Really made me want to attend her next meeting!” 

“Women… You’re all going to overpower us one day.” Arthur said, his voice tinted with amusement. His free hand quickly grabbed the bottle of whisky that was next to him and took a mouthful of alcohol.

“It would not be a bad thing,” You pressed a kiss against his chin and he hummed in response, delighted by the way you showered him with tenderness. Arthur would have been purring under your touch if he had been able to do so. It just felt good — so good the whole world could have gone down in flames he wouldn’t mind as long as you kept pampering him like you were doing. You made him feel loved. You made him feel at peace… And God knows how much he needed that. “Especially for Michael. Have you seen his girlfriend Nora? She looked exhausted.” 

“She just gave birth to her second child. Of course, she’s exhausted, love.” He said. His hand, which had been playing with your hair until then, slowly ran down your naked back.

“Hm.” That was all you replied, for you felt Michael’s girl was more than just physically exhausted. Something was definitely off in their relationship, but you did not want to mingle. “Their daughter is lovely, though.” 

“She is.”

Another silence fell in the bedroom, only embellished by the relaxing cracking of the woods burning in the hearth. Both of you had closed your eyes, slowly drifting away into Morpheus’ kingdom.

“Angel?” He called you with a sleepy voice.

“Yes, Arthur?” You answered, dozing off.

“ I’d love to have kids with ye, eh. Little white-haired and blue-eyed us running barefoot in the forest… Little embodiments of our love brightening our life.” His voice was merely a whisper now for he was slowly falling asleep, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad… but thought I was too messed up for that.”

“You aren’t.” You smiled and let your fingers lazily graze his skin, your nails crossing through his chest hairs and ending their race on his heart, right where his tattoo was “I want it too Arthur. I want it too.” 

Sleep made the last word of your sentence die on your lips. Now, the hullabaloo of the party was no more. All the remaining noises were the harmonious murmurs of your slow breathings and the lullaby sung by the fire, which had never been so comforting. 

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ Tag list: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms

✞ Nora Gray belongs to @amidst-wonderland || Rose Solomons belongs to @raincoffeeandfandoms || Kat Wilson belongs to my sweet partner @callme-fox

✞ Each chapter of this series can be read as stand-alone even though it's far more enjoyable if you have read at least the previous chapter.