#his engagement ring was actually a knife

[fluffypotatey]

Rewatched "The Sword in the Stone" and God, Tristan and Isolde are just so.....

Aside from the rare display of balls from BBC, to completely do away with their tragic love story and make them both bicons and full criminals, damn, it's so rare for a TV het couple to be so Valid, and yet. Them. Crime-married, running a smuggling op, they get swept up into a Clusterfuck by the very king they are stealing from, and Tristan still brings the bae flowers just 'cause and straight-up says he don't give even half a fuck that he lost cargo as long as Isolde is safe. Like. Damn. Respect.

Also, Isolde is just fine, she passed out from pain, Gaius and Merlin fixed her right up, and now her and Tristan are running a Vaguely Legal Business in which now they just smuggle stuff from other kingdoms, which Arthur politely ignores in exchange for nitty-gritty details on the state of trade, like the strangest, most well-meant form of political corruption ever.

Arthur: Tristan, Isolde, good to see you both again, I trust you're staying out of trouble......and not illegally transporting those three crates of Mercian spices I see in your wagon.

Tristan: *pulls an oilcloth over the crates* Spices? I don't see any spices here, do you, Isolde?

Isolde: *holds up a sheaf of trade details from Mercia, Essetir, and Gwynedd* No, Tristan, I certainly don't.

Arthur: .........

Arthur: *takes the papers* You have got to stop doing this.

Tristan and Isolde: Doing what?

Arthur: *leaves*

(Also, no, I'm not having Crime Ring AU thoughts, pfft, no way.)

*sighs* *cracks knuckles* how dare you somehow know all of my weaknesses when it comes to headcanons

listen,

Tristan and Isolde are Arthur's unofficial spies. they created the camelot spy network. they weaved those webs like Arachne herself. the trade papers? just the beginning.

sure, sure, Tristan always tells Isolde that their business with camelot is a short one, that they'll only stay here for a little bit then get back to what they do best, that he only agreed to another month because Arthur turns a blind eye to their dirty money.

Isolde only rolls her eyes because she knows better. this is her husband we're talking about, someone she knows inside and out. Isolde has memorized his mannerisms until she could see them without even looking at him. Isolde could time how long her husband will deny ever caring about the "foolish king" and admit that he had grown fond of the young man.

Tristan as he is arranging a bouquet for his wife: "All I'm saying is that the kid needs a better system for information. He relies on us too much despite our stay being temporary."

Isolde mapping out Essetir's new trade details: "Maybe he enjoys the company."

Tristan: "He's a blue blood, darling. I highly doubt that we would be someone he'd loved to hang out with. Now, daffodils or lillies?"

also: Tristan called Arthur son once, and Arthur just about cried on the spot ("it's the DUST!"). Tristan begins to realize that he has basically adopted Arthur and realizes that he quite likes parenting the kid.

[snaileer]

Everyone Loves a 2-for-1 Sale Part 3

Part 1 & 2 (And original Prompt)

The dining room was suspiciously quiet for a Wayne breakfast when Danny walked in.

He glanced up from his phone, pulling one earbud out, “Oh feel free to continue arguing my morality like I’m an object, my music’s on full volume.”

Dick looked uncomfortable, “We weren’t-Look, Ti- Danny, we are just a bit curious as to why you’re…. here,” Dick finished, glancing at the others like asking if they’d share the plate of batguilt-fries with him.

“Surely the world could have done without a second Drake,” Damian cut in before Danny could even start.

“And we could have done without even one of you, yet here you are,” Danny glared, “Factory defects and all.”

Damian jerked upwards with a raised knife, narrowly pushed back down by Dick.

Danny rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his phone-Tim’s phone-their phone. He held a folded paper out to Bruce with two fingers, still typing, “I have a list, if you want it.”

He continued typing as they opening the note and read it, he knew what it said.

To Do in Gotham:

1. Get to Gotham

2. Find original - don’t freak family out

3. -Find- Talk to Bruce

4. Convince Vicki Vale that Tim is/ actually engaged to Tam Fox

5. Get safe house

6. New identity? (what do clones do? - ask Connor)

7.

8.

9. Leave?

“What’s number seven and eight?” Dick asked, and Danny actively made sure his typing pattern didn’t change.

“Don’t know yet,” He answered with a shrug, the picture of nonchalance. Bruce probably didn’t believe him.

Didn’t matter. Dick did. Because Dick felt guilty.

Bat guilty.

About time he believed him about something.

And Danny didn’t care about Damian’s opinions one way or another.

He stepped away from the table, plopping another grape in his mouth as he walked past, “Welp that’s it for me, busy day, fake engagement, gotta find some crutches because I don’t think Vicki will accept my ‘you got new legs Lieutenant Dan-ny’ joke, all that,”

Danny slipped out the door past a sleep-deprived Tim with a jaunty salute, “All’s well in Clone Town!”

Danny kept walking, his brain running miles ahead of him, Ted Tobin steering the wheel with his fingers on the keypad of his phone as he moved forward and mentally filled in the list.

Number 7: Find Ra’s Al Ghul and the Lazarus pits.

Number 8: Stabilize yourself.

Danny continued up the stairs. He had people to see and rings to buy. Busy is the life of a saboteur.

—

Red Robin watched his clone linger in the jeweler’s store, trying to keep the frown from taking over his whole face.

He was making Tim’s life difficult. Tim suspected it was on purpose.

Largely because people would ask way too many questions if two Tim Drakes showed up in Gotham at the same time.

Hence, Red Robin being relegated to rooftop surveillance.

He turned his attention back to the clone, watching as he left the shop and turned down the street. Red Robin swept after him, following from above.

The clone remained focused on his phone- which was also Tim’s by the way, and stolen- as he walked down the street, turning into an alley without even looking up.

Tim tilted his head and swung to the rooftop, peering into the darkness.

“You could always just come down and actually talk to me, you know?”

Tim dropped into the alley, unsurprised to come face to face with the clone. It was weird to see his own face look so annoyed by him.

“Thought it was best to stay out of sight. We’re not exactly a daylight hero.”

Danny rolled his eyes, “Already annoyed with Vicki Vale?”

Tim nearly growled, “That is your fault,”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me it’s not hilarious.”

“You’ve spent all morning in ring shops! I have meetings!”

“Lucius can handle them. It’s not like we actually did anything this last year anyways.”

Tim stared at him for a second, confusion in the squint of his eyes and laced with suspicion.

Danny groaned with a roll of his eyes, “Fine, you want me to stay put somewhere so you can do your civilian thing?”

“Yes.”

“I am not staying in the manor. You can’t make me.”

Dread filled him as Tim smiled, “Not a problem.”

Danny glared at Tim standing arms wide in the center of the room of his emptiest safe house, “This is so not what I meant and you know it.”

Tim’s face betrayed nothing, “Look, none of us are happy with this situation-“

Danny scoffed. Understatement of the century.

“But..” Tim continued with a pointed look, “It’s my fault, and I get that. So…compromise? You stay here, work on cold cases while I sort out my current job, and when I’m done, we’ll figure out what to do, okay?”

Danny sighed, feeling Ted Tobin stir to life with plans already forming.

“Fine.”

Tim nodded succinctly, reaching for a laptop and multiple cords, “Ok, here’s my old computer, -huh, I could have sworn that had a different charger- anyways- I’ll take this,” he plucks the phone from Danny’s hands in one smooth motion, giving a mocking smile in return to Danny’s glare, “Thank you very much, now I just have to-and find the guy who…”

Tim’s voice tapers off into mumbles as he heads into the bedroom to peel off his suit, fingers focused on the keypad of his newly reacquired phone.

Danny slumps himself down on the secondhand couch, dust echoing around him. This was fine, he could do stuff in the meanwhile, maybe help Tim with his case -or solve it himself, he bets he could- and then finish the new specs for the suit wings that Danny’s suit still didn’t have.

Tim fumbled through the doorway, now in civilian clothes, already on a call with Lucius probably, or Tam. Tam helped him a lot.

Danny slouched further into the silence.

It felt like being left behind by his parents.

They had bigger priorities.

Archaeology.

Ghosts.

Danny shook his head, opening the computer and letting Ted Tobin fish through the passwords for case files.

He’s nearly 3 hours deep when he really pauses for the first time, finally stopping the continuous notes sitting next him, each a different clue. Most for different cases.

The current case pulled up on his screen scratches at him, facts slotting into place with rapid fire precision.

The officer assigned to the case is a vet.

The case is perpetrated by a senatorial candidate.

The officer assigned served on three active fronts and 2 undisclosed.

The guilty candidate is running support for a bill cutting veteran supports.

Best of all?

It’s not in Gotham.

Danny smiles as Ted Tobin’s plan fills in, piece by piece.

—

Ra’s Al Ghul should really make it harder to hack into his confidential back market mercenary dealings.

Then again, maybe it was for the better. How else would he make sure Red Robin was able to intercept the assassin in time to save that poor officer’s life the night before his case-closing arrest?

—

“Detective, I assumed holding my business outside of Gotham would keep it from being the concern of you and yours,” Ra’s’ voice is muffled through the bag over his head, “It seems I was wrong.”

“Oh well, you know me…,” The bag is ripped roughly off his head, leaving him blinking rapidly against the light even as he smirks, “Always butting into things when I shouldn’t. It’s kind of what we do.”

“Tell me, Timothy,” Ra’s says, turning his back to him once more, as he waves his ninjas away, “What does this officer matter to you, more than a state away from your usual stomping grounds? What-“ Ra’s pauses as a different ninja approaches him to whisper in his ear. His body stills.

“Well, we’ll start there. First of all, as I’m sure you just found out, I’m not Timothy,” Danny says, standing up smoothly. He relishes the look Ra’s gives him as he turns around. “And secondly, the officer wasn’t what mattered. Getting you here on the other hand. Now that.. that takes a little more planning.” Danny brushes himself off, removing the cowl to leave just his own domino behind.

Ra’s al Ghul hums, his eyebrow twitching up even as his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“What? No sudden desire to stab? No impromptu attempt to put a sword through my chest?”

“You are curious. So much like the detective, and yet… my people tell me he is currently patrolling in Gotham with the Grayson boy.”

Danny scoffs, “Oh great, another fruit loop interested in me, like I need a new one of those.”

Ra’s’ stare doesn’t change. Albeit a bit more annoyed, but still flat and calm.

“You wanna know what makes me different from Timothy, Ra’s?” Danny pauses, taking a deep breath and letting the ectoplasm ripple inside him for the first time in months. “The difference between me and him,” When he looks up he knows his eyes glow fluorescent green, “Is that I’m stronger.”

—

Bonus Scene:

Dick stared at Tim’s clone as he left, sweeping past the original’s bleary form stumbling to the coffee machine.

“Are we sure he’s Drake’s clone? He seems… less of a fool,” Damian sneered, watching Tim stand listlessly in front of the cabinet, coffeemaker off, and tablet in hand.

He looked out of the Dining room doors, spotting Danny standing not far away in front of one of the closets by the stairs rather than the actual steps, fingers tapping away.

Damian turned back to his breakfast, “I retract my statement. Clearly his stupidity was simply blinding.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Can you do a tengen uzui x jealous reader like she tells as if he’s been ignoring her and distant but at the end it’s all good

Hehe I love that request as I already wrote something pretty similar a loooong time ago and this is the perfect excuse to publish it. Hope you like it even though it's a little more than what you've requested <3

(y/n) finding out her boyfriend Uzui Tengen cheated on her he did not

Pairing: Tengen x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,7k

Synopsis: Catching your boyfriend Uzui Tengen with another woman mid-action shattered your heart into pieces and made you leave him without hesitation. But is what you've seen the whole true?

Warnings: mentions of cheating, language, this is one of the first fics I've ever written in english (worked on it last in june lol) so please let me know what you think, a loooot of angst, comfort in the end

The way his fingers linger through her hair makes your stomach turn. Tengen’s touch traces down her neck, to her shoulders, before grabbing her hips passionately. You know the look in his eyes all too well, the fire inside them. It is foreseeable what will happen next.

Of course you know, given the fact that you are his girlfriend, his fiancé to be precise. Only you should know these intimate truths about his behavior, that his fingers will trace around her bellybutton next before gently pressing against her lower back. But you’re standing in the ice cold rain at night while she sits on his lap and enjoys his caresses.

You’re heart goes numb, the only thing you are able to register is your own blood rushing through your ears and the heavy rain running down your spine. You never expected that he would cheat on you. He is an attractive and strong man that is well liked by the ladies, but you are a striking and powerful woman yourself. A hashira, a former kunoichi. You thought that was adequate for him, that you were enough for him. Well, obviously that was not the truth.

Actually, you shouldn’t have been here at all. He left for an important mission this evening, stating he’ll be back in the morning. He gave you his usual breathtaking smile, devoured you in his strong arms. He said he loved you. But how can he love you when he touches another woman like he touched you a few hours ago?  So the weird feeling that brought you here was right.

Thick anger begins to radiate through your whole body, making your hands shake uncontrollably. You can’t let him get away with this. You are far too valuable to put up with his behavior. He needs to know that you caught him, that you are well aware of his affair. And this bitch should know who she messed with. After all, his engagement ring is still sitting unmistakably on his finger. 

Without thinking twice, you toss your throwing knives into her direction with usual precision. You never miss your aim, not even when you whole body shakes in rage. She cries out cowardice, the sleeves of her kimono caught under your blades before she is able to touch his stupid perfect face.

Fuck. His heart begins to race in panic. Tengen doesn’t have to look up to know it’s you with your signature rushing past his ears. Why the hell are you here? He told you he’ll be back in the morning. Your enraged face makes him swallow noisily, the way your dark hair sticks to your face, your uniform soaking wet from the durable rainfalls of the night. You look like a kunoichi ready to kill.

“How could you?”, you breathe out, locking your eyes dreadfully with his.

It hurts him to see you like this. He swore to never hurt you, always keen to never break this promise. But now you’re standing in front of him, your face twisted in anger and pain, the veins on your forehead pulsate hazardously.

“(y/n), what are you doing here? Let’s talk about it at home.”

Another throwing knife crashes just millimeters from his ear into the wall behind him. Fuck, you’re absolutely furious. To be honest, he would be too if he were in your place. Damn, why are you here?

“Arrogant boy, this is the end. I will never speak a word to you again. We are strangers.”

He frowns. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This shouldn’t happen, you shouldn’t be here, you-

You are gone.

Frantically he jumps up from the futon, not the least bit interested in the cries of the woman behind him. Tengen’s mind races, his hands begin to tremble in pain. He knows you well enough to realize that you’ll make your words come true.

-(y/n)’s POV-

You run. Through the dusky forest, away from him and this sight. Your heart scorches with pain in your chest. How could he do that to you? If he at least told you the truth beforehand, if he had stated you that there was another woman for him…You would never had thought that Tengen Uzui is a cheater. He treated you so well, the loving gleam in his eyes seemed so convincing to you this morning.

Now it’s all a pile of shards. Your past, your future - all gone. Bitter tears of disappointment burn your eyes and mix with the pelting rain. You really thought you knew him, that you knew his heart better than anyone else. Oh, you were so wrong.

Your unfocused feet stumble under a root, making you fall to the ground before you are able to react. Your hands clench in the sodden forest floor while your face contorts in pain. No, it’s no longer possible. You can’t hold it back any longer. A pained, bloodcurdling scream echoes through the lonely woods. Tears now take your sight completely, desperately trying to forget what you just saw. You were always so strong, so confident, but now you feel like your emotions are ripping you apart from the inside. He tore your heart into a thousand pieces, you wish it would stop beating within your longing chest. Why? Why does he just throw your life away like that? You thought you gave him everything he needs. Was it not enough for him? Did you do something wrong?

Your gaze wanders up into the starry sky. No. You gave him everything you have. It’s not your fault that this coward can’t see what you’ve had in each other and decided to betray you. Stand up, pick yourself up from the dirt and keep your head held high for at least a moment. You stand up gradually and look ahead.

“Mayumi.”

Your crow immediately sits on your shoulder at the sound of its name, briefly rubbing its head against yours. Normally you’re both not good at expressing your feelings to each other, but today she seems to understand you without further words.

“Lead me the way to the butterfly estate, please.”

“Of course, (y/n)-san”, she squeaks immediately in response and flies in front of you a few meters ahead.

As always, you move quickly and gracefully through the opaque forest around you, so you soon arrive at the butterfly mansion. This is the only place you want to be right know. Shinobu is a good friend of yours, never pushy or too curious. She always seems to truly care about you and your wellbeing, even though you seem a bit cold to some people. She understands you – hopefully also this late at night.

You knock on the door stridently. There’s no way you’ll be going home tonight, not if he could be there. But what if she doesn’t open the door? Where should you go then? Maybe Rengoku, but you couldn’t stand his optimism, Mitsuri surely burst into tears, Sanemi-

“(y/n)-san, we didn’t expect to be honored by your presence tonight!”

The little girl in front of you, Sumi you assume, breaks out in a sweat.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t announce myself beforehand. Is there any way to talk to Shinobu-san and stay here for the night? Of course I don’t want to impose my-“

“That is absolutely no problem, we are honored to invite you for the night, (y/n)-san! Please let me show you your room and call Shinobu-san!”

“That would be perfect, thank you so much”, you even manage to gift her with a small and rare smile.

The little girl leads you to a small but well decorated room with a freshly made futon in the middle. This room would be anything but flamboyant enough for him…You shake your head rigorous. No, you need to stop thinking about him. He isn’t worth you thoughts, your tears, your time. What he did was unforgivable.

“I didn’t expect to welcome you at my estate this late my dear. Oh, you are soaking wet! Sumi, please bring our guest a fresh yukata!”, Shinobu’s kind voice echoes through the room.

“I’m truly sorry for interrupting your peace this late at night, I just couldn’t go home”, you reply bitterly while staring into the distance.

As much as you want to forget him, he always catches up with you. Damn, why is this so hard? Isn’t his betrayal enough to keep your strength and self-respect?

“You know that I would never impose myself, but you are always welcome here and if you need a talk, just call for me.”

“He betrayed me, Shinobu. I saw him with another woman tonight”, you breathe out.

Her eyes widen in horror. Now she understands why you visit her in such a state. Without hesitation, she crosses the room and sits next to you on the futon.

“I shouldn’t feel sad, ashamed or guilty. What have I done? Why did he feel the need to run into another woman’s arms? I know my worth, Shinobu, but it truly haunts me. I really thought he loved me, I thought we had a future. It just…hurts.”

The cracking of your unusual composed voice causes Shinobu’s heart to drown in compassion. Oh, you didn’t deserve this at all. Even though you seemed a little cold from time to time, she knew too well that you have a heart of gold. You could always be counted on – both in combat and in private. As a former kunoichi it wasn’t easy for you to break with your old habits from time to time. Nevertheless, all other Hashira knew how dearly you loved Tengen. You two were even engaged. How? How can he just throw all of that away?

“I thought Oyakata-sama entrusted him with a mission tonight. Oh, (y/n), please…Don’t you ever blame yourself for the things you have seen. You are a truly outstanding woman with striking beauty and a heart of gold. Any man would be lucky to have you by his side. It’s not your fault in any way that he can’t see your worth!”

Her words leave you speechless for a moment, tears swell up in your eyes once more. The emptiness he left inside you makes it hard to breathe. Now that Shinobu has said it again and you’re sitting in her mansion, it’s getting too real. You will never wake up next to him, soak in his sleep drunken smile, his arms will never wrap around your waist so tightly again. You loved him so much. His betrayal shattered your heart into a million pieces.

  “I loved him and our life together so much. We-we…we wanted to get married next year in the cherry blossom season. All the things he said to me were worthless, as well as the life we built up together. He threw it away this night. He hasn’t even tried to explain himself for me, he just said that he will talk to me at home.”

You can’t help yourself. Crying seems to be the only thing that feels right at the moment. Shinobu holds onto your shaking frame tightly, not daring to let go of you for even a second. No, you didn’t deserve this. But if this is what you need, she will gladly sit beside you and hold you in silence until your heart feels lighter. 

A ray of sunlight hits you in your face harshly. Your eyes seem to be glued together, you are only able to open them with difficulty. A gaze around makes you realize immediately that you are at the butterfly estate, with Shinobu curled up in a small ball on the futon next to you, breathing softly. The pain of this night hits you like a wall all over again when your sleep-drunken brain begins to realize why you are laying here and not in Tengen’s arms.

“Important message! Important message! Oyakata-sama desires to see all the Hashira for an important meeting at his estate! Please hurry!”

The sound of Shinobu’s crow wakes her up from her sleep immediately.

“Oh, I must have fallen asleep here. I hope you didn’t feel disturbed by me, (y/n). A meeting you say? But we just met. Well, maybe something important has happened. We shouldn’t let them wait any longer!”

Your stomach twists in disgust. A meeting of all Hashira means that Tengen must come too. No, you’re not ready to see him yet, you might break down when his gaze wanders to yours. Your hands start shaking all over again.

“(y/n), listen. I understand your anxiety at the thought of this meeting, but it’s not worth making you feel this way – he is not worth making you feel this way. You are the strongest woman I know with a tough will that is unmatched. If anyone is capable of coming forward immediately after a betrayal like this, it’s you. He doesn’t deserve the pleasure of your grief. Stand up, put on your uniform and clean your face from the stain of tears. You are strong, you are brave and you are a Hashira. You are more than enough by yourself, (y/n).”

Shinobu is right. You are a warrior, your abilities outstand those of other demon slayers by far. It is not your reputation or attitude to let your grief show. Tengen should see what he has lost.

“Give me 10 minutes to get myself ready. I’ll meet you outside”, you instruct Shinobu with your usual firm voice.

You put on your uniform, wash your face and brush your hair. In the mirror you look like the woman you generally are. Only the faint hint of dark circles and your slightly red-shot eyes tell a trained gaze that you’ve had a rough night. As you position your throwing knives in your belt, you lift your head with one last look in the mirror and step out into the fresh air of the morning.

You will get through this meeting and build your own future afterwards.

-the meeting-

Tengen is uneasy and more than concerned. You didn’t come home tonight. Well, considering what you saw it would have surprised him if you had, admittedly. But where are you? Are you alright? Dark circles decorate his face. As if he could have just closed one eye not knowing where you have been. You weren’t supposed to see him like this, in the arms of another woman. He knows you well enough to be aware of the fact that he is dead for you. But he has to explain himself, you have to at least give him a chance to see you, to talk to you. Will you be present at today’s meeting? No matter how hurt you are, your sense of duty will surely not let you miss it.

“Shinobu, (y/n), it is so nice to see you again! I feared you might not come when Uzui showed up alone!”, Rengoku’s strong voice shouts out.

His eyes snap up immediately to catch a glimpse of you. Damn, you look so good. Even with the slightly blood-shot eyes that betray your flawless face, you’re appearance is still breathtaking and composed. But your eyes don’t even look for him in the crowd of Hashira. Instead, you greet Rengoku with a small smile.

“Well, the last time wasn’t too long ago. I wonder why we meet again so soon. Something important must have happened”, you reply calmly.

You can sense him immediately, the way his eyes dart all over your body the second Rengoku announces your entrance. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, your knees go soft as butter. A new wave of aching and wrath washes over you and leaves you dizzy. No, you must stay focused. Don’t let him throw you off course.

“Welcome, my children. Please join me inside, the clouds in the sky look like rain”, Oyakata-sama announces calmly.

Out of instinct, you bow down in front of him immediately. You didn’t even see or hear him coming. Focus on the meeting, don’t look at him. You will get through this.

Shinobu gently grabs your arm and pulls you back up to follow the rest of the Hashira inside.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you”, she gently murmurs into your ear.

You can’t help but gift her with a smile and squeeze her arm softly. You can’t thank her enough for being such a great support to you during this difficult time. Will you ever be able to reciprocate with her?

“Thank you for blessing me with your presence, even though we just met a few weeks ago. I’ve tasked Tengen with a special mission that will bring us closer to our goal of finding and slaying Muzan Kibutsuji alongside his Upper and Lower Moons. Tengen, would you mind explaining to all of us what you have accomplished?”

Out of instinct, you glare at Tengen’s back in front of you while your mind is battling uncontrollably. A special mission? Closer to our goal of finding and slaying Muzan Kibutsuji? Why didn’t you know about all this? What mission does Oyakata-sama mean?

“I have been observing and investigating the area around the entertainment district for some time. Unexplained deaths, countless attacks in the nights, women that leave without explaining. A place that only comes alive in the darkness seemed like the perfect place for a demon, maybe even an upper ranked one. And given the fact that I am the flashiest men within the pillars, I decided to examine further. I talked to the women there and let my flamboyant charm play so that they dared to tell me something. Tonight I was able to find out that one of the oiran seems to be particularly cruel and females who got in her way always mysteriously disappeared or were found dead. Unfortunately, I could not find out the name of said woman, but I am almost certain that she is a part of the Upper Moons.”

You threaten to spill the contents of your stomach down Giyu’s neck in front of you. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Is that why he met this woman? Is that why he put up with her caresses, to get information? Your ears are ringing deafeningly loud while you can’t help but stare at Tengen in disbelief. All of this pain, his betrayal, your tears, all of this was a lie?

“Oh my…”, Shinobu breathes out next to you, covering her mouth with her hand.

Is that really true? Was all of this for nothing? Now what are you supposed to do with this information? Your head begins to spin in confusion.

You need to get out. Now.

“Sorry, I need a moment”, you mumble under your breath, stumbling awkwardly into the direction of the door.

“(y/n), wait!”, his strong voice shouts behind you.

The last thing you want to do right now is talk. You are absolutely confused and furious. If it was all about a damn mission, why didn’t he tell you before he flirted with that woman? He hasn’t told you a word about his investigations. Not.a.single.word. You thought you were partners, you trust him with your life. Why did it have to come to this?

“(y/n)…”

You see nothing but red. With a swift motion, your small frame lunges over and pins him to the text wall, your throwing knife pressed against his neck.

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

For the first time since last night, your eyes lock with his. Oh, he looks absolutely gorgeous with his hair a little messy and his sorrow-filled gaze. But no, you can’t break your façade now. He trampled on your trust, your feelings, your relationship.

“I’m sorry I had nothing to say that night, but it was-“

“That night? You lied to me the whole time! You infiltrated the entertainment district every day for weeks without telling me! How can I trust you? How do I know that what I saw last night was just an act?”, your toe-curling yelling echoes through the estate of Oyakata-sama.

Fuck, you couldn’t care less about the fact that everyone just heard you. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, desperate for air. Suddenly he grabs your arm smoothly with one hand, turns you around and now pushes your frame against the wall he used to lean on a moment ago. Your throwing knife falls to the ground rustling.

“I did this to protect you!”, he taunts tormented, his face now only inches away from yours.

“You don’t need to protect me, I’m a pillar-“

“This ain’t no walkin’, (y/n). It’s one of the upper moons, the strongest demons to ever exist. Exposing you to this danger, allowing you to interfere…I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror anymore if I’d allowed that”, he interrupts you with unusual low voice.

“I thought you were cheating on me, that everything we built was a lie. When I saw you in her arms…”

You have to stop mid-sentence with hot tears swelling up your eyes once more. This night was the ultimate hell for you. If felt like you’re dying from within every time your thoughts wandered to him of their own accord. You tried to be strong and independent, told yourself over and over again that you don’t need him when in reality, all you hoped for was for this to be a misunderstanding.

“I would never cheat on a woman as flamboyant as you. (y/n), I hope you understand that I had no other choice. Both you and me know all too well that you couldn’t have held back, risking the mission’s success along with your life. Let me handle that, trust your flashy fiancé and his skills”, he whispers, gently caressing your cheek.

God, his touch burns like a thousand fires on your skin. All this time you thought you’d never get that pleasure again. You can’t help but snuggle your face in his hand, eyes closed to allow yourself this intimate moment. While you won’t easily forgive him for keeping you in the dark, you’re just glad that your dark fears of tonight are not reality.

“Just be glad I missed on purpose”, you mutter into his hand.

[rosesaints]

help wanted ! chapter one.

pairing: miguel o’hara / f!reader summary: a chance encounter after your life falls apart leads to some unexpected consequences. rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact) warnings: unprotected sex, age difference, pet names, size kink, public sex series masterlist / next chapter

Thousands of dollars in debt later, you were officially graduating from college one degree hotter–-that’s right, for one, blazing moment of glory, you got to gloat about your fancy new degree on social media and flaunt your newfound education to all of your followers, popping champagne and exchanging clueless smiles with the other soon-to-be alumni in your graduating class as if you all spent even a single dime actually learning something useful.

Nevermind the fact that over half of your followers were meddling friends of your parents from your hometown’s PTA, insistent vultures that kept tabs on you from afar despite your repeated pleas that no, Sharon, you did not want to date her deadbeat son, no matter how good you claim he is at Madden. The point was, you had a tight and secure future within grasp.

You were coming out of college with an engagement ring, a spotless portfolio, and an impeccable internship, courtesy of your fiancé and a little help from his family.  Your beloved sat in the stands of your university’s stadium at graduation, alongside his family and yours, the very picture of spotless suburban perfection straight off the pages of  Good Housekeeping. You let yourself smile and believe that this was it.  

Dear god, how could you have been so clueless? 

You met your fiancé during your first year of college at a required gen-ed, while he served as a Teacher’s Assistant, three years your senior. At the time, like a fool, you let the red flags pass you by. He was attractive, ridiculously unattainable, and somehow you maintained his interest. Six months of dating passed you by, and suddenly you were moving into his place and agreeing to a joint bank account at the mature age of 19.

Slowly, you let him take over your life and for all that you gave to him, he still wasn’t satisfied. Nevermind the fact that you were completely–emotionally, physically, financially–dependent on him, he had to drive the knife so much deeper into you.

It sears and burns the pits of your stomach–your future coming aflame right in front of you.

The evidence was littered all over the entryway of your shared apartment with your fiancé. Kitten heels that were two sizes too small for you, a tacky, blue color reminiscent of ones you wore to Disneyland as a child. You imagined her prancing about your doorway in those heels, giggling like a little teenager as your fiancé murmured words of affirmation into her ear, “ yes, I made sure she left before you came over, she’ll never even know–-” putting her shoes in the place where your shoes usually rest.

On the counter, an equally tasteless purse. It was all just so insulting. 

From your spot in the kitchen, you could hear, clear as day, her pathetic little mewls and praises and the way your stupid, stupid fiancé would pant loudly right before he was about to finish. Looking back, you had no idea why you let that slide.

Your fists clench at your sides. 

The clock kept ticking on the wall across from you. 9:06 PM . Only six hours after your graduation, after he pushed you off towards your parents and insisted on you having the night off with them. Your parents had gushed and remarked how lucky you were, how truly blessed to have such a thoughtful and kind partner.

For one moment, you deliberated upon the next best course of action. You imagined several scenarios in your head. Your first instinct was to barge in sobbing, yelling words of betrayal and anguish at  your partner, hurling that ugly blue purse of that wench’s at his face and reveling in the tragedy of it all. Your next instinct was to get his parents on FaceTime and show them what a little bitch their son was.

Suffice to say, you decided upon the latter and things, decidedly, did not go very well.

From there, it was a blur of screaming, crying, and yelling, from all parties involved. Blue kitten heels girl began covering herself up upon your entry, covering her face in shame as your fiancé started panicking and scrambling to get his shit together, clearly shocked by your early arrival. His parents were blowing up your phone’s speaker as he urged his side piece to leave and let him explain.

An hour later, you were out on the streets with your belongings.

Apparently, he had been waiting for a proper time to break up with you for the past few months, some unintelligible nonsense about how the spark just isn’t there anymore, you’re just… not fun anymore and how he felt taken advantage of and only felt like you were using him.  Nevermind the dubious way in which you met while you were a freshman and he was some upperclassman blowing through his trust fund, giving you attention only to take it away hastily.

You ended up moving back to your parents’ place with no money, no prospects, and no friends. Whatever friends you had at the beginning of your relationship with your ex-fiancé were long gone–the consequence of having a partner who insisted that they were all you needed. In hindsight, you realize that his insistence on staying in and watching movies with pizza instead of going out with your friends were not actually all that romantic. He mostly sat on his phone while he scolded you for even considering going out.

Your fall from grace became well documented on your parents’ social media, as your mother regretfully laments how her precious baby girl lost it all and was forced to move back home with her tail between her legs. It just made the sting of losing everything all the more worse. Your mother’s friends no longer slid into your DMs with their sons’ contact info.

Several days in your childhood bedroom were spent watching rom-coms and throwing various objects at the screen, decrying false promises of eternal love and pointing out the stupidity in so many of the main characters. It was actually quite therapeutic. You let your hair remain unkempt and your room to pile up with takeout orders, courtesy of the engagement ring you had pawned off in a fit of rage after the breakup.

Your ex’s texts about the whereabouts of said ring was your future self’s problem.

On the tenth day of your self-isolation, your mother had had enough and barged into your room, opening all your curtains and dragging you out of bed to join breakfast with the rest of the family. You knew that this discussion was coming, dreading the inevitable conversation where your parents poked and prodded you for information about your next job. Your student loan bills were waiting, despite blocking it out and pretending they didn’t exist.

The energy in the dining room was tense and strained, silence hanging thick in the air as you prepared a bowl of cereal. Your parents looked at you expectantly, as if waiting for you to come up with a brilliant proclamation that you were going to move out of their house. Instead, you let the silence hang thicker in the air, awkward silence stretching impossibly long. 

Finally, your mother cleared her throat. “So–-”

“I’m heartbroken,” The half-rehearsed statement dripped lazily off the tip of your tongue before she could continue further, as you took a spoonful of stale cereal. “I just need more time to recover.”

“We don’t doubt that at all, sweetheart, you take all the time in the world that you need,” Your mother exchanged a nervous glance with your father before continuing. “But we thought it would be beneficial for you to… get out of the house for a little bit. Maybe try running some errands with me or helping out around the neighborhood? There’s a new family that moved in next door, the O’Hara’s, and I believe that they’re looking for a babysitter! Think about how impressed they’ll be with your fancy degree!”

“As wonderful as that sounds, like I said, I’m just not ready.” Glancing back down at your bowl to avoid your parents’ gazes, you couldn’t help but swallow down the disappointment that threatened to overcome you. Your degree was now being relegated to a babysitting gig. You feel small, like a child being scolded at dinnertime. The rest of breakfast was a relatively fast and uneventful affair, save for the pitiful looks being thrown your way.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

More days pass, and for the most part, your parents have eased off your back. Your feelings towards your engagement had soured and festered the longer you stayed within your room, and your fingers itched to call an old flame from high school and get the rebound stage out of the way, but you didn’t know if you could handle that amount of shame in such a small period of time. 

Two glasses of wine pushed you to hastily get ready on a Friday night (stirred by the shame of how quickly you became buzzed), you resigned to finally get out of the house and do some prowling around your hometown. There were only five legitimate places to go at night around the area, only two of which you’d deem acceptable, as in, trashy and good for dancing. The time it took for you to decide on an outfit came close to being embarrassing, but you ultimately decided on a short, skimpy dress that you were sure to attract some eyes.

A little ego boost certainly wouldn’t hurt your predicament at the moment, as you applied some dark lipstick and shimmery eyeshadow on your eyelids. You hadn’t gotten ready on this scale for such a long time, as a result of your ex rarely allowing you out, and the experience only furthered the uninhibited spirit you hoped to exude tonight. 

One last glance at the mirror, and you smiled. Dressed to kill, indeed.

Fifteen minutes later and your Uber drops you off at the steps of a dingy and busy nightclub. Too late to back out now, you thought, as you hastily pulled the hem of your dress down, avoiding the furtive gazes of some people you knew from high school standing close by the entrance. 

Some trendy pop song was blasting at full volume as you walked in, bass reverting immediately throughout your skull, as you giggled and made your way to the bar. You ignored the fact that the last time you had taken a Fireball shot was during your freshman year, and you resolved to remedy that, ignoring the searing burn down your throat as you finished your first shot of many for the night.

Slowly, but surely, you got reckless.

You lost yourself soon in the swirling vortex of bodies, moving in synchrony with the next trashy song that had been queued up, dancing with strangers all around you with no mind to the way your dress rode up to expose more of your thighs, thin spaghetti straps slowly coming down your shimmering shoulders. 

Across the room, in the midst of dancing, you caught someone’s eyes. His gaze locked onto yours, as if daring you to look away.  Look away, little girl. A small smile played at his lips, as if daring you to look away from those intense, almost dark black eyes eyes that you swore gleamed red in the lights of the club. Tall, brooding, and definitely older than you. He wore a tailored button-up that perfectly accentuated his downright criminal waist (swallowing down the immature jealousy that rose in your chest) and the broad expanse of his shoulders, seemingly dwarfing the people close to him at the bar in comparison.

Striking and distinctive from everyone else you had seen at that point, he was just the right remedy for the night.

Foolishly, you maintained his gaze under half-lidded eyes, beckoning him to come closer, closer, just a little bit. Catch me if you can. One raise of his eyebrow, watching as he downed another shot, and you were game.

Mustering up the confidence of your glory days, you swayed and shook your hips to the current song that blasted through the speakers, mesmerized as he began coming your way with confident, almost arrogant steps. 

Taller, almost towering over you as he looked down at you from underneath long lashes, a small smile still playing at his lips. “You don’t look like you’re from around here, hermosa .”

“Oh? I could say the same for you.”

Under closer inspection, you could see that a five o'clock shadow adorned his defined jaw, adding a touch of ruggedness to his otherwise clean-cut appearance. His hair, jet-black and sleek, screams business, accentuating the contours of his face in the red and purple lights, while a few rebellious strands occasionally fall across his forehead. Even in the midst of a heavy dance floor, his hair remained almost meticulously in place, a testament to his unwavering composure. He did not look like someone who would frequent this part of town at this time of night, but all the better for you.

Impulsively, you reached up and locked your hands around his lean neck, starting to rock and move along with him to the music, ignoring the goosebumps that overcame your skin as he started running his rough, calloused hands down your waist, down to the small of your back. 

You didn’t mind it one bit, finding yourself leaning into his touch with impressive ease. “What’s your name?”

“Miguel.”

Your smile grew deeper.

Feeling his hands begin to explore farther down, taking more initiative, taking control. Letting him set the pace as you both plunged deeper into the night, giggling and spinning as Miguel hummed lowly into your ear, hot breaths fanning your face.

Your senses were overloaded by the smell of him; bergamot and crisp green leaves, patchouli and vetiver. It was intoxicating.

One of you leaned in first after what seemed like hours of orbiting each other’s faces, looking down at your lips, glancing up at his dark eyes; there was a blur of movement and all you could focus on was his hand around your throat, one around your cheeks, cupping you like delicate china and kissing you deeply, truly. There was no one else but him, at that moment.

Pulling away, briefly, as he lets out a low chuckle. “Keep your eyes on me, hermosa.”

He nudged your thighs apart with his impossibly large legs, holding your chin with one hand as the other slowly traversed your waist. “Do you want this, cariño ?” He had murmured lowly into the shell of your ear as he continued to rock your body with his, forcing you to move exactly to his rhythm. Here you were, straddling and riding the line of public indecency in the middle of your hometown bar. Of course, you wanted it. 

You wanted it so, so bad.

Miguel’s hands traveled back down to the small of your back and before you could even think twice, the words were tumbling out of your lips and onto his attentive ears, “What do you say we leave this dance floor and go somewhere else?”

His hand was so much larger than yours as he led you out of the middle of the bar, looking back at you every so often as if to make sure you didn’t disappear. He felt like your secret, your own treasure, all yours. 

It was well past 2 AM at that point, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as he pressed you up against the cold tile wall of the bathroom, giggling, and asking if he even locked the door. He hummed in response to your neck, indifferent, before licking a searing stripe up your neck to bite the lobe of your ear and you moaned, nails clutching his white button-up like a lifeline.

Dear god, he was gonna eat you alive. 

Rough, calloused fingers made its way underneath your dress and the room suddenly felt a lot hotter as he grinned wolfishly at what he found beneath. “My, my, my. Who’s got you all excited like this?

“You, Miguel,” You wanted him to fuck you now, fuck you fast and hard. “Only you.”

“So good,” His voice dropped an octave. “Good girls like you deserve a reward, hm?

You could only nod as you felt the pads of his fingers trace your hipbone and then squeeze your thigh, waiting in anticipation as he finally hovered one finger close to where you needed him the most, so fucking warm and wet and eager for him. “Jesus christ, you’re soaked. Wanna make you feel good. Do you wanna feel good ? Use your words, you can do it.”

Empty pleas and whines escaped your lips as he laughed, almost cruelly if it wasn’t so goddamn hot, teasing and rubbing you through the soft fabric of your underwear. Miguel pushed the fabric aside like it was nothing and suddenly he was pushing in, until one finger was completely buried inside you. Hot, you felt so fucking hot .

You shuddered and looked over his shoulder at the mirror, and the scene in front of you was just downright criminal, moaning, despite yourself. His back seemed to ripple in his white button-up, muscles tensing as he worked your body exactly how you needed him to. He used the opportunity to add an extra finger to your sopping wet pussy, murmuring low praises and Spanish in your ear.

His palm applied rough pleasure to your clit as he began to suck and bite at your neck while you whimper, completely at his mercy. You can still feel him chuckling into your skin. “What do you want chica?”

“Want you—Want you so bad, Miguel, need you to fuck me.”

“You’ll let me take you in this bathroom right now?” Miguel tutted. “What a filthy, nasty girl you are.”

You roll your hips faster onto his hand, chasing what you were so close to. Heated and heavy under his gaze, squeezing your eyes shut as you came, him letting you ride out your high until you were panting and recovering from your orgasm. Filthy. 

As the haze starts to dissipate from your vision, you take a moment to look at him. Miguel brings his fingers to his lips and moans . You’re —looking at him with wide, expectant eyes. You’re hanging onto every one of his actions with your desperation dripping off his fingers.  “Got you all ready, cariño. You ready?”

Nodding, you watch as he slowly positions you to bend over the cold, porcelain sink, nerves coming on fire as you watch the scene across from you in the mirror. Miguel’s a mess—and you are too, hair in a flurry around your shoulder, dress at the verge of ruin, just barely hanging on but what you can’t stop focusing on is his heated gaze, pupils blown wide and looking down at you with something akin to hunger. Your throat tightens when he grazes his fingers over his hard dick through his pants, slowly unzipping and revealing himself to you. Getting dizzy as he peers at you through dark lashes, stroking his cock as if appraising your reaction.

“You’re so big,” you murmur despite yourself, and Miguel sighs, so hard and hot as you reach out and wrap your fingers around it, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I need you inside me right now.”

(You’re not sure if you’ll be able to take him—all of him—but you still want it bad, so bad you could taste it.)

Time slows to a crawl as he spits onto his cock, spits on your clit and begins pressing the head of his cock to your entrance, other hand slithering around your waist to begin his attack on your clit again. Skin to skin, messy and filthy, and you couldn’t have asked for more.

“You’re gonna feel me in your stomach, dulzura , ” Miguel’s low voice seemed to echo in the tiny bathroom, words weighing heavily on your shoulders. Was it a promise or a threat? “No turning back now.” God, you wouldn’t even dream of it.  

When he pushes the throbbing length of his cock forward, it feels like something within you has shattered, both of you moaning in perfect unison, pupils blown wide and crooning under his touch. He’s barely in yet and you’re gritting your teeth, it’s like you didn’t just cum a few minutes ago.

Miguel watches you struggle to keep your moans contained, has to gloat as you melt around his cock. “You like watching me stretch it out, don’t you? Say it.”

You can only babble helplessly in response. “Yes, yes—yes, please, God—”

When he pulls his cock all the way out, it feels like a breath you’ve been holding has been released. And then he’s plunging back into you, fucking you harder, fucking you faster, and you can see the way your pussy starts dripping around him uncontrollably, one orgasm blending into the other, squeezing your eyes shut—

You feel a rough hand cupping your jaw, forcing you to look at the mess you made in the mirror. “Don’t look away.” He slips in deeper, so sensitive, and you can hear him groaning from above you, just a constant flurry of Spanish, praises, and oh Gods. 

All you can do is bend over the sink and take it as he pounds into you unrelentingly, fingers stimulating your clit ceaselessly. It’s so intense and your pussy squeezes around him, only asking for more.

Your breath fogs up the mirror as you whine and Miguel gets more careless, growing wild from above you. Can’t give up on pulling back, and pushing back in, determined to give you all he has. And then—the curve of his cock hits just right and you’re splitting in two, tip reaching that sweet and delicate part of yourself not even your fingers could reach, and suddenly he’s pulling out and cumming, pulsating as he strokes his dick above your back, massaging your hips. You took it so well, you were so good, mi hermosa. 

The world around you blurs into insignificance, as you and Miguel slowly come down from your highs.

You relish in the warmth and the silence, heavy breaths mixing with his as you look in the mirror to meet his gaze. For a moment, the world stills. 

And then he turns you around to sit facing him on the sink, and you wonder how his smile is so sharp, a menacing row of perfect white teeth as he nuzzles your neck, brushing his teeth on the skin. By now, your body must be littered in bruises and love bites, but somehow, you don’t mind.

The both of you recollect your senses side by side, and you let him slip the spaghetti straps of your dress back up to your shoulders—which you’re sure is falling apart, but who cares?---let him tug the dress down your thighs, ignoring the warmth that spreads when he kisses you once more. “Gorgeous.”

Smiling wide when he rests his hand onto the small of your back yet again as he guides you out of the bathroom, ignoring the one or two people that have been waiting in line outside the bathroom. You feel like you’re on top of the world. He holds you in his chest as you wait for the cab that he’s picked up for you by the side of the street, his chin resting on top of your head.  You feel safe, you feel warm, and you want to stay in this moment forever.

As the cab arrives, he’s careful to guide you into the back, kissing the back of your hand as he lets you go. “Sweet dreams, cariño .”

You wake up in your room in one piece, having effortlessly snuck back in without bringing attention from your parents. God knows what they would’ve done if they had seen you in your current state, looking like the losing end of a brawl. As you inspect the damage in the mirror, you can’t help but smile. The bruises will darken and likely become sore in the days to come, but that was an otherworldly experience.

There’s a pep in your step as you saunter into the kitchen, greeting your parents with the most cheerful of good mornings, ignoring how they glance at each other with optimism as they watch you fill up a cup of coffee for yourself. It was going to be a good morning, you could feel it.

Your mother, always the opportunist, takes the time to clear her throat. “Honey, I mentioned this before, but the O’Haras next door, well, Gabi is this cutest little five year old–you know, the one who always rolls her soccer ball into our backyard–anyway, his old babysitter can’t work any more days next week and he’s asking if we can help.”

The cheery mood in the room sours just slightly, and gears are turning in your head about how to best let your mother down. But then she hits you with a scalding look that says, we’ve given you enough time. Go be a dear. 

“Of course, mom,” You relent, sighing in your chair as you take a sip of your coffee. How bad could it be? You had seen Gabi learning how to ride a bike or kick a soccer ball around during a few occasions down the block, seeing the vague outline of her dad coaching and directing her. They seemed harmless enough. “I’ll pop in after breakfast.”

Your parents flash you a megawatt smile. “Great!”

That’s how you found yourself at the front steps outside of the O’Hara house, along with a plate of muffins your mother insisted that you brought along. You fiddled nervously with the collar of your turtleneck. Not even your best concealer could cover up the marks from last night and you had given up altogether, despite the fact that it was 80 degrees out and searing. You just hope that whoever Mr. O’Hara is, he buys into your excuses.

You ring the doorbell with a resigned sigh, mustering up a well-rehearsed smile as you wait. 

The door is answered by a little girl, who has to be less than five (you’re not entirely sure, you’ve never really been that good at guessing), gingerly opening the door slightly ajar as she raises an eyebrow at you, your turtleneck, and the plate of blueberry muffins you held. “Can I help you?”

“Hi! Yeah, I’m your neighbor, I live just next door and my mom sent me over to bring these to you guys. You like blueberries, right?” You sneak a peek at the house behind her, curiosity getting the best of you as the small child begins salivating at the sight of the plate. “Is your dad home?”

Big, doe eyes still focused on the muffins, Gabi nods. “Dad! Someone’s here.”

“Gabi, what did I say about opening the door to random strangers—Oh.”

Your heart drops in your chest and you’re hit with the urge to run. It’s Miguel. Miguel is the single father your mother has sent you over to babysit for.

No fucking way.

[imtryingbuck]

Is Being In Love Always Painful?

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Bucky x Natasha

Summary: Your in love with Bucky but he marries Nat

Word count: 636 shes a shorty

Warnings: Angst, swearing, Nat being a bad friend? Terrible writing as always

A/N: there will be another two parts

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Loving him was easy. But he wasn’t yours to love, no that was for your best friend. You still loved him with every inch of you. 

Why? Because loving James ‘Bucky’ Barnes was easy.

You met him at school, he was your first friend actually. Starting a new school was terrifying especially when you don’t know anyone there. Ms Donovan paired you up with him so he could show you around, he made sure you ate with him and his friends, made sure no one picked on you. He was easy to be friends with.

He took you to prom when Jimmy Holland bailed on you, and that’s when you knew you was in love with him. His smile made your heart skip way too many beats to be normal, he danced and laughed the whole night with you. Prom was amazing just because of him.

You went to different colleges and even with the distance you still kept in touch, seeing each other twice a month, three times if you were really lucky.

Natasha became your best friend straight away since you both shared a dorm and you were into the same things. Nat knew of your feelings for Bucky so one day she told you to go and tell him, she even paid for the bus tickets. You stood there outside Bucky’s dorm going over your words that you selected carefully for the umpteenth time. You were both surprised, him being that you were there and you being that he had a pretty brunette standing behind him and him introducing her to you as his girlfriend. You left shortly after with some lame excuse that he either believed or simply didn’t care.

You went back to Nat and cried.

With graduation four months away, you finally introduced Nat and Bucky to each other and honestly didn’t think anything of it since Nat knew of your feelings.

A few weeks later Nat walked in to the kitchen as you was making dinner, shuffling back and forth. “Y/N umm I need to ask you something” Her voice was small which was something it never was. Giving her a nod she continued “so um Bucky asked me out on a date and I said yes, I just really like him and since he’s your best friend I wanted to know if that’s oka- shit are you okay?” You sliced your finger with the knife which hurt but not compared to the pain in your heart. But you couldn’t say anything, so you nodded. The night of their date, you cried and after their date you slept with headphones on just so you didn’t have to listen to them having sex.

It’s been three years since graduation and you were in the jewellers with Bucky. To get an engagement ring. He’s going to propose to Nat.

You were there when she squealed with joy, nodding so fast you thought her head was going to come off.

You said yes to being her maid of honour, you did everything for her. Helped plan the perfect wedding for your best friend and the man you were madly in love with.

You stood there watching Bucky cry as he watched Nat walk down the aisle towards him.

You watched as they exchanged vows.

You stood in the corner of the hall and watched them have their first dance as husband and wife.

You did it all with a smile on your face even with your heart breaking. 

Long after the newlyweds and guests left you was still in the hall cleaning up. Steve was supposed to help but you waved him off telling him to enjoy his night with Peggy. All alone in the room you let the tears fall.

Loving Bucky was so easy but also extremely painful.

Next>

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[shipperofdoomedships]

Enid spends school breaks with the Addams and has basically been adopted by Morticia and Gomez. During Wednesday's writing hour Enid will eagerly learn fencing and knife throwing from Gomez. She thoroughly enjoys them and not so secretly hopes her improving skills will impress Wednesday. (Gomez is already having a wedding suit tailored for Wednesday). Enid hopes the confidence she gains from learning these will help her build the courage to finally ask Wednesday out.

One day Enid and Wednesday go into town for a bit of shopping. As they're walking along she sees some townie running to pick up a rock. The guy yells "you damn Addams need to stay away" before he pulls his arm back to throw the rock. Before he even starts to throw it Enid quickly pulls a throwing knife from her rainbow knee socks and throws it hitting him in the knee and sending him to the ground screaming in pain. Enid casually skips over and yanks the knife out followed by a swift kick to the jaw knocking the man out and silencing his screams. She pulls a black handkerchief from her other sock gifted to her by Gomez and quickly wipes the blood off them puts both items back in her socks. Skipping back over to Wednesday she sees her with her jaw hanging open and a glazed look in her eyes. Giggling, Enid gently closes Wednesday's mouth and says "ready to go Willa?"

Wednesday snaps out of it them immediately drops to one knee and pulls out a ring box containing a gold ring with a large onyx for the main jewel and several pink diamonds surrounding it. Wednesday says "mi sol, would you do me the greatest honor of becoming my wife?" Enid is flabbergasted snd when she can finally speak says " um...we're 17 and not even dating...Im not saying no but maybe we should go on a few dates at least before we officially get engaged". Wednesday rises and actually smiles softly and says "whatever you wish mi diosa" causing Enid to blush and giggle but she takes Wednesday's offered hand and they start walking back to the Addams manor to tell Morticia and Gomez

[samodivaa]

Winter Soldier x Asset!Reader Warnings - violence, blood kink, smut, but soft? lmao Words - 1800

You are a silhouette to his blurry vision, the faint light from the lights on the cell painting lines of fire on your hair as you struggle on the floor. A shiver of pleasure runs down his spine from your beauty. His heart pounds in his chest, and he can feel blood rushing to his groin. Wetting his lips, he circles you like a hawk. "Come on" he commands, in a heavily accented voice "Stand up" he growls, cracking his knuckles and staring pointedly at your knife on the floor. “Fuck you” you say after a few swallows. “You have no finesse when you don’t control your anger” you glance down and see that a glove of blood covers your lower arm from the elbow to the wrist. The arm is throbbing, stiff, and painful  “No technique”

He dares mock you—he is fully aware that you are trained to this cruelty, the scars of hatred and anger shall be forever part of you—and a tragedy doesn’t need blood and death; it's enough that it all be filled with that majestic sadness that is the tragedy of your fate at Hydra—

Soldat sees it. The catastrophe is you. He plays with it.

You are embarrassed about your blood, its redness, the way it is just coming out of you, with no concern for your well being, but you slowly climb back to your feet—you respond to suffering and pain, bleed the same color—the only humanity left as a reminder of you actually were. Of course, there is sublime ecstasy born of terror—drops of blood glitter on his knuckles and face. You both need pain; need blood—but maybe there is something beyond that. With the blood dripping from your lips and arm, you look horrifyingly lovely and breathtakingly attractive to Soldat. He can smell something. Lust. He wants to taste it now. You are meant to paint each other. Be it with your art or your blood. And once you lock eyes, blue on brown, the fight needs to be fought—but the scent of lust is headier than blood.Those deep blue, calculating eyes. They make you nervous, but you’d be lying if you say the intimidation doesn’t turn you on.

You feel immensely powerful—like your whole self is contained in just your teeth; they're ready to bite, you are made of anger, gripped with tension. Not even decades of fighting could dispel the entrenched anxiety that torments you right now.

Soldat can feel himself tenses up all over, and though he tries to keep it subtle, he can tell that you notice. You are eager to engage, launching forwards and Soldat is confused by the sudden attack, fear creeping down on him, putting him in a disadvantage. He can’t block the hard kick to his stomach which brings him down to the ground, but he stands tall and firm, glaring back at you.

You are watching him intently. It's an unpleasant feeling, to be under your scrutiny. It makes his skin prickle and burn. He looks away, tensing his muscles against the shiver that ripples through them.

He suddenly launches at you, but you are too tired to move—for a second there's no pain, just numbness and weight in all limbs as your back hits the cold ground before your brain can register it, ringing in your ears follow. Agony drenches your body, in this disconnected from any control state. You don't scream, nor yell of fear or surprise, just a broken-sounding whine that escapes your teeth as your body falls back. „What now, Samodiva?“ he mocks, with the approximation of authority he can steal at this moment.

But his mind refuses to focus on sparring anymore: you are sprawled on the floor, soaked in blood, your chest rising with every breath you take. He is on top of you, pressing you against the cold ground beneath his rock-solid body, wet hair shadowing his face. You look up at him as he hovers above you, coiled and ready to strike. “You have no finesse when you are turned on” you say that to the beast in a man’s skin, a monster you know too well under the thick stains of blood and gore sheeting from his skin “No technique”

His wild blue eyes swing up to meet yours—something has snapped in him. He is too possessive, too hungry. Brutal, but somehow passionate—you will love to tame him...but you will adore him even if he turns out untamable.

“What now, Winter? Will you kill me? Or worse: kiss me?” As if a demon is beneath him, your curves cushioning him, your muscular body lush and partly feminine, your eyes flashing—and all he wants is to kiss you. His eyes are full of emotions—seemingly fragile and lovely, but these same eyes—can churn blood that can rake your soul, but no death would be sweeter than this. His lips spread in a thin smile—you both stay away from your essential natures, just the sight of your blood can make some Soldat orgasm. You spent a decade with those same eyes-scared, lost, lusty-staring back at you. You know what he wants. “Fuck me, just like last time” Remembering. Forgetting. You are not sure which is worse. You want to be able to breathe around him sometimes—to be able to love him by memory and choice. He inhales deeply at the base of your throat "So sweet and pure" He whispers, going to your earlobe. His tongue rolls around the skin, nibbling gently and you shiver, a mixture of fear and excitement flowing through you. Your lip is bleeding slightly and he licks the blood away. Salt, humanity—your blood has such a tenebrous taste.

Suddenly, your tongues are clashing, teeth nipping, breaths gasping as he runs his hands along your body, and you do the same along his, as you work together, clutching each other—all of the anger and frustration is pouring out in bruising kisses, fast and wet and greedy. Soldat is your outlet, the only thing that helps you, and he gladly takes these punishing kisses before pulling away. His metal thumb slides up over your bottom lip, pressing into the corner of your mouth. You are about to respond when his thumb pushes past your lips to stroke your tongue with just enough pressure to make you moan. “You are the only thing I own" His throbbing, aching erection touches your clothed core. His eyes darkened, lips twisting into a smirk as he is leaning back away from you. Your blood. Gushing out, it darkens your lovely hair until each strand is as heavy as the shadows of his mind. "You're so goddamn obedient” he continues, his eyes are still lidded, voice sharp “So easy to control" your head is fuzzy with arousal, cheeks flushed with confusion—why is he talking so much? The monster inside him is finally silent—his deep blue eyes are all innocent and needy. Everyone says love hurts, but that is not true. Loneliness hurts. Brainwashing hurts. This way of living hurts. Not being able to remember hurts. In this reality Soldat is the only thing in this world that covers up all pain and makes you feel wonderful for a while. No, it is not love—but it is the closest you have ever been to it. You are actually in love, but you feel a sort of tender curiosity. You crave for his mouth, his voice, his hair.

Your hand goes rigid inside his own—you can tell that he is thinking with his disturbed soul when he moves his gaze to your connected hands, his mouth wrestling with the words and thoughts. He watches through a lust-drunk haze. He is oppressively hard, and he desperately wants to fuck you, but at the same time—he wants to embody this moment in his mind. Soldat’s blue eyes eerily, crystalline—beautiful, endless, full and yet seems empty. A small animal noise rumbles across his tongue when you pull him by the harness. He breathes roughly through his nose as his hands stay still at both sides of your head. His soft lips connect to your neck gently and you let out a gasp as he trails his teeth over the pulse point. Soldat pulls away from your throat and looks into your eyes—this is one of the rare moments when your soul dips near his —sea-colored orbits catch the fire of lust.

He worms one hand between your bodies, opening his pants, freeing his length and he hisses as he strokes his cock from base to tip, a slow drag of his hand around his thick length. Then he proceeds in pulling down your trousers and panties with a single swift motion, there is feral hunger in eyes—as he grasps your hips, lifting them off the ground so he can drill into you at an angle, hitting the spot that have you arching off the cold concrete and quietly calling his name in a moment of pleasure, your slick coating his cock nicely so that it slides in without any pain. “Look at me while you fuck me, Winter” Your hands travel to his arms and lace behind his strong neck, pulling him closer for a kiss. He gladly obliges, lowering his face enough for you to peck him and lick his lips as he thrusts out of you and pushes back in immediately after, experimentally, slowly. He sets a steady and harsh pace, drilling his cock into your warmth with an unforgiving force. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent sharply as he keeps fucking hard you; your loud moans in his ear only coaxes him to go faster, deeper. It's not your face, but the expressions on it. It's not your voice, but what you say. It's not how you look in that body, but the thing you do with it. “Don’t stop” His jaw clenches, tense, and you know he is on the verge of coming, too. Your legs wrap around his waist and grip him like a vice as you spasm harshly beneath his weight. Your cunt convulsing around him and the seductive purr in your voice undoes him completely. He throws his head back with a guttural shout, pressing deep into you as he comes apart, filling you with his release. Your eyes meet—you know that emotion, but you are both too detached from it to comprehend it. It is too human.

[tender-rosiey]

𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 | gojo x f!reader

| pt 9 | - | pt 10 | — [SERIES MASTERLIST]

a/n: i cant believe i actually did it

as you walk down the halls of the school, you hear the footsteps of the annoying man you know as gojo satoru. you choose to ignore him as you enter the higher ups’ office and to your absolute irritation, gojo is right beside you. you both face the elders and they finally speak up.

“you do remember that you’re still partnered up for missions, right?” one of them speaks up, condescendingly.

you groan internally, but gojo doesn’t try to hide it as he huffs and grumbles. he isn’t doing it for the same reason, however.

“you ought to step off your high horses and stop acting all high and mighty,” he warns and the elders merely glare at him.

in your case, though, the elders often avoid speaking to you as they have all heard of what you did to break off the engagement. somehow, the wrath of a woman, who hates being shackled up and controlled, frightens them more than the strongest jujutsu sorcerer alive.

then again, you did penetrate his infinity, but no one needs to know that.

you are already headed to the door, but one of the elders speaks up, “take sukuna’s vessel with you.”

“yuuji? why?” you both say in unison and you ignore the small grin on gojo’s face.

“you don’t get to ask questions; you’re to follow orders and that’s that.”

“pardon me?” you say slowly, but the elder doesn’t budge. you opt for slamming your hand on his desk which breaks into pieces. “I didn’t quite get that,” you smile tightly at him.

the elder takes a deep breath to mask his fear or as they would call it “loss of composure” before replying, “the curse might have an effect on the vessel, but we don’t know what exactly so we need to experiment it.”

gojo raises his hand but waits for no permission, “aren’t you forgetting that yuuji is still a kid? what if the kid gets hurt and sukuna takes the chance to control him? Where di all the be careful crap go too?—“

the chief of the elders slams his hammer, “silence!”

right away, a knife slices his cheek after his sudden burst and he stares in disbelief at you while the blood trails down his face. you take gojo’s hand and head to the door, “we are leaving.”

gojo, without hesitation, follows behind you and rather happily, “i will get yuuji; give me a sec!” and he teleports out of sight.

you roll your eyes and continue walking to the gates, finding gojo and yuuji already waiting there, “y/n-sensei! let’s go! I am so excited!”

you pat yuuji’s shoulder with a chuckle then look at gojo mockingly, “will we go by the car or will the ‘great jujutsu sorcerer’ teleport us?”

without providing an answer, gojo teleports you to the location of the curse. the curse doesn’t waste a second and makes an appearance right after it feels gojo’s cursed energy. you look intently at gojo and ask, “grade?”

he takes his blindfold off with a light smirk, “special,” and rushes into combat along with yuuji. it’s safe to say that the curse isn’t strong enough to overpower him, but it did possess quite the intelligence. gojo also uses this opportunity to teach yuuji some things.

the fight was going smoothly, but you saw yuuji falling to the ground, clutching his head tightly. his screams are full of pain and agony and it distracts you for a split moment.

the curse takes advantage of that.

you hear gojo screaming your name a bit too late and the curse slams you at least 5 meters into the ground.

you hear a crash then continuous ringing. it doesn’t stop.

your vision turns hazy; the voices around you are muffled. you touch the back of your head and raise your hand in front of your face; you see blood. blood drips from your hand and falls on your face.

drop by drop.

how did that attack do so much damage? you feel like you broke your ribs. your legs are numb and you can’t move your head. you feel a rough hand touch your cheek, but its nails are tall and sharp that they probably scratched you even with how gentle they touched you.

a deep voice is what you hear, not satoru, “you’re going to live, woman. don’t end my entertainment so soon,” and the voice gets closer to your ear, “you still have a lot to show me.”

then it disappears, your eyes are weary and they shut on their own. you’re tired. you feel yourself getting picked up and you hear your name being called by two different people. you hope they are satoru and yuuji.

“y/n, open your eyes,” you hear a whisper and it sounds like the broken man who begged for you before, that incessant man, satoru. you think about it now, should you give him a chance? does he deserve it after what he did? will his sincerity undo what he did before? perhaps you can?

what a silly thing to think about as death knocks on your door.

you smile, thinking about it, and your body relaxes and his heart drops. the only thing on his mind is that he should get you to shoko as fast as possible, but he can’t feel your pulse and your cursed energy is fading and it makes him panic.

he thinks that life is mocking him as you lay in his arms, close to death and with a smile so content. he could not say the same about himself. his heart is beating quickly and for a reason he despises and hoped he would’ve never have to experience it again.

he teleports you, yuuji, and him to shoko’s infirmary.

he knows that he can exorcise the curse in seconds, but he would rather use those seconds to save you. shoko quickly examines you and gojo’s tears don’t stop falling as he sees her distressed face. he is shocked by many things: his crying, how this even happened and most importantly: how you’re dying and he can’t do anything.

it all comes crashing down on him as he watches your bloodied form: what if you don’t make it?

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will part you like a pair of curtains

[fairy-writes]

last one! can i order a large latte for Louis from MTP? thank youuu!!!

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Prompt: Fluffy imagine with Louis from MTP

Word Count: 0.5k

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): Louis James Moriarty x Reader

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Fluff, Reader is implied to be shorter than Louis

Notes: This is like… Post-Timeskip… So manga spoilers, I guess? I’ll try to keep them to a minimum. (I also haven’t finished the manga; I was reading it as chapters were coming out, but I forgot to keep up with it)

__________________________________________________________________________

“I have a question.” You say suddenly as you break apart a head of lettuce. Louis looks up from where he’s cooking over the stove, eyebrow raised. You are both preparing dinner for the rest of your friends to celebrate William’s return.

“Yes?” He replied, and you look up at the ceiling, suddenly feeling very foolish. You shouldn’t be second-guessing Louis… He has always been so sure of himself since William disappeared. And even before his elder brother disappeared, he was confident in his decisions. 

“Do you actually like me?” You say, more under your breath than anything, but Louis hears it. 

The ladle stirring the soup stops, and Louis turns to face you, crossing the space between you in a few long strides. He works the knife from your grasp and sets it beside the chopped lettuce, cradling your fingers in his palms. 

Your eyes are drawn to his scar, faded and pinkish. Ever since the Final Plan was put into action and William disappeared, Louis had pushed his hair out of his face and ditched his glasses, exposing the self-inflicted scar for the world to see. 

Louis grabs your attention by pressing a kiss to your knuckles and holding them to his chest. He looks serious. 

“My love, I mean this in the best of ways.” He starts, and you feel your heart skip a beat. Was he going to reject you? “But we’ve been together for three years. We are getting married next year. I plan to spend the rest of my life with you. What the hell do you think?”

At that, you can’t help but laugh. Tears well up and overflow.

“Sorry.” You say, voice cracking and he pulls you into a hug.

“I’m sorry, love. I’ve been neglecting you. With Brother’s return, I haven’t been paying attention to you, and I can tell you’re hurting.” He says, and you huff out another dry laugh.

“What kind of partner am I if I can’t handle you planning a simple dinner?” You reply and feel him press a kiss to your temple. 

It isn’t long before you both return to your respective duties, working like a well-oiled machine to finish dinner preparations in record time. You leave Louis to set the table while you gather everyone who is waiting in the parlor. Just before you enter the room to let everyone know that dinner is ready, you slip on your engagement ring. 

It’s a simple gold band engraved with Louis’s initials. His has your initials engraved on the inside as well. Because it’s a reminder that you’ll always have a part of him and his love with you. And vice versa. 

You open the parlor door with a smile that stretches wider at Moran’s loud complaint of, “It’s about time!” 

“If you’ll follow me to the dining room, we can begin dinner.” You say, twisting the ring around and around your finger. 

You were silly to have doubted your fiancé. You knew he loved you fiercely. And you loved him just as intensely in return. 

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Peña’s Anatomy, Chapter Seventeen:

pairing: surgeon au!javier peña x f!resident!reader (Lucky)

rating: E (18+ ONLY, this one is just fluff and smut yall, food play?, body worship??, oral (m&f rec), fingering, unprotected piv, Javi has a mouth on him)

wc: 5k

series masterlist | Javi P masterlist

Two Months Later

“Jav!” you called from the kitchen, your eyes locked on the veggies you were chopping for tonight’s Thanksgiving dinner you and Javier were hosting. Tonight was a big deal not only because of the holiday, but because this marked Mickey’s first outing since recovering from her surgery and you and Javi’s first ever big holiday together. You had your shifts for the week covered by a coworker and Javi had taken the week off solely because the thought of you at home—in bed—without him sounded like torture.

Rounding the corner from the living room, Javi walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Yea, bebita?”

“Can you baste the turkey?” You set your knife down and turned your head and pecked his cheek. “Pretty please?”

“One condition,” he said, resting his hands on your hips so that he could turn you to face him, pinning you between his body and the counter. He brought his lips close to yours, smiling at the way you leaned forward to seek them out. “Gotta give me a real kiss.”

You grinned and crossed your arms over his shoulders, pulling him even closer as your lips molded together.

“Gotta get my fill before everyone gets here,” he mumbled as he pecked your lips. “Matter of fact—“ He pulled away to look down at his watch, finding that the two of you had at least another hour before anyone dared to show up. “Why don’t we go kill some time in the bedroom?”

“I have a feast to prepare,” you chuckled, lifting your hand to cover his mouth as he leaned in for another persuasive kiss.

“Can I at least have a little appetizer while you work?” he asked, flickering his eyes down to your lower half.

“Javi,” you laughed, playfully pushing him away. “We both know I can’t multitask while you’re doing that.”

“Because I’m so good at it?” he smiled, walking over to the oven to baste the turkey like you asked.

“And so humble,” you snarked.

“So what’s on the menu for tonight besides my beautiful turkey?” he said, his eyes focused on the slowly goldening skin of the turkey he’d insisted on being in charge of preparing.

“Mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, some roasted veggies, sweet potato casserole—“

“Oh,” he moaned at the mention of your world famous sweet potato casserole that you made for him for the first time last month. “Can you make extra of that? I want leftovers of the leftovers of the leftovers, bebita.”

You smiled at his enthusiasm, and nudged your head towards the fridge.

“Look in there and tell me if that’s enough,” you said.

Javi finished basting the turkey and tucked it back into the oven before heading over to the fridge and opening it to find two large rectangular pans of the casserole that you’d prepped the night before.

“God, I’ve never loved you more.”

After two hours of working on the feast, 2 p.m. rolled around and the first of your guests arrived at your door.

“Hey!” You greeted Mickey with a tight hug as though you hadn’t seen her in months when in reality you’d just been over to visit her last week. “How’re you feeling?”

“Really good, actually. The incisions have finally healed, the baby is doing good, I’ve got full range of motion in my neck again, and…” she said, smiling widely as she slowly lifted her left hand to show off the diamond on her ring finger, effectively causing your jaw to drop to the ground.

“Holy shit—“ Javi said, finally meeting you at the door. “That’s, uh…congrats, Mick.”

You turned to him with a suspicious look, unsure of why he looked pale as a ghost but chose to drop it in favor of getting the full engagement story from Mickey.

“Come inside and tell me everything, I’m stunned,” you said, pulling Mickey into the house with your arm looped around hers.

“It was pretty low key. Rich took me out to dinner a few nights ago to celebrate my recovery, or so I thought, and long story short, he proposed and I wanted to wait to tell you in person—“

“Congratu-fucking-lations, Mick,” you gushed, squeezing her arm. “He’s got great taste.”

“I doubt he actually picked it out,” Javi said, inserting himself into the conversation, earning a glare from you.

“Well, he’s the one who paid for it, all that matters to me,” Mickey quipped.

“Is Richard coming tonight?” you asked, leading her into the kitchen.

“No, he’s stuck at the hospital,” she frowned. “It’s his first shift back since my surgery, and honestly I didn’t understand you and Javi wanting to be around each other all the time until now. Now, it feels so weird to be somewhere without him.”

“Aw, she has a heart,” you teased.

Mickey glanced over her shoulder to check for Javi’s presence, finding him out in the backyard smoking a cigarette while McCartney ran around in the leaves.

“Speaking of Javi…is he in a bad mood or something?” she asked. “What was all that about?”

“I don’t know!” you whispered enthusiastically. “He’s been totally normal, maybe even a little extra-lovey dovey. I don’t know why he’s suddenly so…weird.”

“Well, you did say he wanted to propose.”

“You don’t think—“

“I think me and Richard accidentally stole his thunder,” she said, wincing.

“He wouldn’t propose to me in front of people,” you countered. “I’ve made myself clear on that point.”

“Well, I can’t think of anything else. Unless he’s secretly been in love with me this whole time and just got his heart broken,” she joked.

“That’s a good point. Does Richard eat ass? Javi eats ass. You might want to reconsider your decision,” you played along as you stirred the stuffing in a big pot.

“You know, Richard doesn’t go…down,” she blurted, earning a gasp.

“You don’t mean—“

“Yep,” she nodded. “But surprisingly, he gets the job done without it.”

You winced, shaking your head. “Everytime I learn something new about Dick Mann, I regret it.”

The sliding glass patio door opening signaled Javi’s entrance to the house, his scowl on unabashedly as he walked into the kitchen, smelling like smoke, to grab a rare beer for himself.

“Jav?” you called carefully, earning his eyes on yours. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, though the dryness in his tone did little to persuade you.

“You sure? You look a little—“

“I’m fine, bebita,” he assured, walking over to press a kiss on your cheek. “Sorry I smell like smoke.”

“You wear it well,” you said, reaching to pinch his chin. “When’s your dad getting here?”

“I get to meet Peña Sr.?” Mickey interjected with a playful smile.

“He’s supposed be here any second—“

The doorbell rang as if on cue.

“I’ll get it,” Javi said, giving you one more peck before walking off to the front door.

“Is he like…is he like Javi? Brooding and grumpy?” Mickey asked in a whisper, making you smile.

“Javi’s not like that,” you argued playfully. “But yeah, Chucho and Javi are pretty similar. Chucho’s a little more friendly, I’d say.”

“Mija,” Chucho walked in with a hobble, resting on his cane as he made his way to you to give you a quick hug. “Smells good in here.”

“Thank you,” you smiled before gesturing at Mickey. “This is my friend Mickey.”

“Ah, the walking miracle,” he said, hobbling over to give her a handshake. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling much better, thank you,” she smiled. “Which one of these two broke HIPAA to tell you?”

“Javi,” he replied, selling out his sim instantly.

“You weren’t my client anymore,” Javi defended himself as he walked in. “Makes it a little better.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to sue you, Dr. Peña,” she said. “Although, judging by your house, I think you could survive it.”

“Oh! Speaking of fancy things, guess who finally got a car,” you said, smiling proudly.

“Is it here?” Mickey sprung up from her seat at the island.

“No, it’s still at the dealership because Javi insisted I needed to upgrade the tires and stereo—“

“You did,” he said. “Better to get it done now by the dealership than to have a mechanic upcharge you later.”

“What did you get, Mija?” Chucho asked, accepting a beer from Javi.

“I got a Honda,” you replied. “Nothing too fancy, but fancy by my standards.”

“I tried to convince her to get a Volvo or something like that, but—“

“But I’m not an attending yet and can’t afford car payment,” you reasoned.

“And she refuses to let me help,” he lovingly scolded, making eyes at you from across the room.

“I offered to by his truck—“

“That old thing?” Chucho asked, chuckling at the mere thought. “

“That’s what I said,” Javi agreed.

The doorbell ringing again signaled the arrival of your next set of guests: Connie, Steve, and their daughter Olivia.

“Y’all ain’t got the game on?” Steve asked as he got settled in the living room with Olivia and her toys, Javi and Chucho joining them while you stayed in the kitchen with Connie and Mickey to finish off dinner.

“Oh my god!” Connie squealed at the sight of Mickey’s ring before pulling her into the living room with her. “Steve, look at this rock on Mickey’s finger.”

Now all alone, your guests busy with conversation on the football game blaring on your living room TV, Javi snuck his way into the kitchen to join you for a moment of privacy.

“Hey,” he said, sticking his hands in his front pockets. “I wanted to talk about why I got so…weird about Mickey’s ring—“

“Oh no, are you actually in love with her?” you joked.

“What? God, no. No, I just…” He sighed, shaking his head with an embarrassed smile on his face. “I went ring shopping.”

“Oh?” you tried to veil your inner glee at the news.

“And I landed on one. Then, like an idiot, I showed Steve and Mann a picture of it, and—“

“Oh,” you said, meeting his eyes. “Javi, was that—“

“He stole my fucking ring,” he sighed and then chuckled. “I know it’s stupid, but I put a lot of thought and research into the perfect fucking ring for you, only to see it on Mickey’s finger at the door, and I just—“

“Oh, baby,” you cooed, walking over to him to slide your arms around his waist, your head resting on his chest.

“I had to smoke a cigarette to chill the fuck out about it,” he admitted, wrapping his arms around you.

“Jav, you could give me a ring-pop and I’d think it’s the most beautiful thing in the entire fucking world,” you said, lifting your head to look up at him. “Don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

“I know, I just want it to be perfect,” he mumbled shyly, bringing an adoring smile to your face. You lifted your hand up to rest on his cheek, your thumb swiping over the coarse hair at the corner of his lips.

“Javi, I already have the most perfect thing in the world right here.” Javi leaned in for a slow kiss, each swipe of his lips and tongue against yours lighting sparks of arousal deep in your stomach, forcing you to pull away from him with a chuckle. “You’re going to distract me.”

“You’re always distracting me,” he said, brushing his thumbs over your hips. “Meet me in the bathroom for a quickie?”

“Can’t,” you smirked. “Dinner’s done.”

With everyone's stomachs stuffed full of turkey and stuffing and everything deliciously bad for the human heart, you sent them all off with a plate of leftovers aside from Chucho who was staying the night.

Your feet were sore from standing on them all day, and since Javi had already put away all the leftovers and stuffed the dishwasher full of every dirty dish in the house, you found yourself laying across the sectional with your feet in Javi’s lap, his hands working away every ache while he and Chucho poked fun at the fact that you were already forcing them into watching Elf.

“The holiday isn’t over yet, mija,” Chucho said, tipping his beer back for a sip.

“Shh, just pretend it’s midnight,” you replied, your voice thick with exhaustion.

“Yeah, pops. Best if we just go along with it, otherwise it’ll just get worse,” he teased, shooting you a playful look.

You were too busy admiring him to come up with any sort of clever response, his tousled hair, unbuttoned jeans, navy blue sweater and strong hands making it hard to pay attention to anything but him.

“You sleepy?” he asked, running his hand along your shin soothingly, as if he had no clue of the dirty thoughts starting to whirl around in your mind.

“Yeah, I should probably go to bed,” you said, hoping that he could pick up on things without you needed to tell him.

“Well, if she’s going to bed, you and I can watch that Western I was telling you about,” Chucho said. Javi’s eyes softly closed shut, as if he was gathering his patience.

“How about we watch it tomorrow, pops? I’m exhausted—“

“Yeah right,” Chucho chuckled, looking at the two of you suspiciously before standing up. “Thank god the guest room’s on the other side of the house.”

“Good night, Chucho!” you called, wincing in embarrassment at the way he saw right through you and Javi.

“Good night, mija. Good night, Javi.”

“Night,” Javi called back before turning to you with a chuckle. “I didn’t even realize you were trying to fool around. I really thought we were gonna go to bed.”

“Your dad picked up on it easily enough.” Javi laughed again and nodded before shifting on the couch to crawl on top of you, your thighs parting to welcome him. You admired him for a minute as he hovered above you, your fingers carding through his hair. “I love you like this.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “You just look very cozy and at home.”

“I am cozy and at home,” he said. “And stuffed full of your sweet potato casserole.”

“Was it good?”

“Not nearly as good as what I’m craving right now,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your jaw. You giggled, pushing him away so that you could speak.

“Maybe we should take this into the bedroom seeing as we have a guest,” you said, trailing your hands up underneath his sweater to feel the smooth, warm expanse of his stomach. Javi rested his forehead against yours and sighed contently at your touch, his hips pressing into yours.

“Yeah, let’s go while I can still think straight,” Javi rasped, lifting himself off of you and tugging you onto your feet, walking you around the corner and down the hallway to the bedroom with his hand clasped with yours. The minute he opened the door, he had you pressed against it, his mouth on yours while one hand pinned both of yours to the cool wood. “I wanna try something tonight.”

“W-what?” you managed, still breathless from his kiss.

“Nothing too crazy,” he smiled. “Go lay down, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you replied with a hesitant chuckle, watching him from over your shoulder as he walked out of the room and down the hall towards the kitchen. Stripping out of your clothes, you rested yourself in the middle of the bed on your side, playfully replicating Burt Reynold’s iconic centerfold.

When Javi returned, he carried a can of the whipped cream you used for the pumpkin pie earlier, a grin on his face as he took you in.

“Waiting for your cover shot?” he asked, setting the whipped cream on the nightstand so that he could strip out of his own clothes. “Actually—“

“What?” you giggled, watching his bare ass as he walked over to his closet to grab his polaroid camera. “No, I’m bloated and—“

“Shut your pretty mouth,” he ordered with a smile, holding the camera up to his eye. “Smile, baby.”

You begrudgingly obliged, resting your hand over your stomach to try and hide the swell of it, but Javi sucked his teeth in response.

“Move that out of the way,” he commanded, waving his hand at you. “It’s ruining the shot.”

“Javi,” you laughed. “My stomach is ruining the shot.”

“Do I have to put something in your mouth to stop ridiculous shit like that from coming out?” he asked. “You’re beautiful. I love you like this.”

Suddenly, it all clicked for you. You loved Javi the most when he was undone and comfortable and satisfied, why wouldn’t he feel the same towards you?

“I love you,” you said, moving your arm to give him the shot he wanted now that your insecurities seemed to vanish. Clicking the camera, he lowered it from his eye and set it down on the nightstand to let the polaroid develop while he climbed onto the bed and rolled you over onto your back.

“I love you,” he replied, sitting back on his ankles between your open thighs, his hands smoothing over the inside of them. “And I can’t wait to fucking suffocate between your thighs. That’s my ideal way to go, I think.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckled, reaching to grab his neck to tug him down to your lips, his hands holding him up as his tongue swiped across yours, his cock slowly sliding over your folds pulling a moan from his chest.

“Fuck,” he hissed as the head of it caught your entrance. “You’re distracting me from my plans.”

“Then hurry up and get on with them,” you purred, lightly scratching the baby hairs at the nape of his neck.

Javi let out a puff of amusement and kissed your lips one more time before making his way down your jaw and neck, giving ample attention to that sensitive spot you love for him to nip at. You felt him reaching over for the whipped cream before he pulled away completely, popping the lid off the can and shaking it in his hand.

“You’re already sweet, but I figure since it’s a holiday and you made me wait so long for dessert, I should treat myself,” he said, smirking as he pressed the nozzle over the stiffened peaks of your nipples, creating two messy dollops of whipped cream over them. “Look at you…”

You batted your eyes at him as you used a finger to scoop up some of the cream, wrapping your lips around it and sucking it clean with an exaggerated pop just to feel his cock twitch between your thighs.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he groaned, lowering his tongue to the half-cleaned mountain of whipped cream to get a taste for himself. Your breath hitched as you watched him greedily clean up the mess he created, sucking your peak into his mouth while his eyes locked with yours.

“Fuck, Jav,” you moaned, the softness of his tongue against your sensitive skin giving your brain a rush of dopamine.

Javier’s hand spread wide over your stomach and ribs, warming your skin up as he licked a trail over to your other breast to give it the same slow, teasing treatment. Bringing the can back, he drew a straight line from your sternum down to your belly button and used wet, messy kisses to clean off the cream before licking a broad stripe back up to your neck. You caught him while he was still close enough to kiss and pulled him in, licking over the excess sweetness on his lips and tongue before using all your strength to roll him over onto his back so that you could have your turn at worshiping him.

“What are you doing?” Javi laughed, resting his hands on the top of your thighs as you drew a heart with the whipped cream over his broad chest.

“You got to have dessert, why can’t I?” you purred, lowering your tongue slowly to the cream while he watched you with a slack jaw. You traced the heart with your tongue and kissed away any remainders before scooting lower on the mattress until your lips were pressing teasingly chaste kiss to the underside of his cock that rested against his stomach.

“Baby, fuck,” Javi moaned, using one hand to cradle your face. Drawing a line of whipped cream from the head to his balls, Javi waited with bated breath for you to clean it all up, your lust-drunk eyes locked on his as you started at his balls. He hissed in pleasure as you sucked each of them into your mouth at a time before letting them go with a pop to focus on his shaft. Spreading your tongue flat and wide, you slowly licked his shaft clean of any of the sweet, airy cream before gripping him at his base and taking the head into your mouth. “Oh, fuck.”

“You taste so good,” you purred as you let him go to stroke him in your palm.

“Baby, I want to taste you,” he begged, giving you those round eyes of his that always got him his way.

“Then come get it,” you taunted, prompting him to practically throw you onto your back, the mattress bouncing from the force as you giggled at his display of strength until you felt his tongue flatten over your folds. “Oh, shit, Javi.”

“Not laughing now, are you?” he smirked, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before going back to your cunt, his tongue working you up slowly and gently until he decided your clit was ready for some attention. Your fingers gripped his cropped hair to hold him against you, giving him little room to breathe, not that he minded in the slightest.

“Right fucking there, baby,” you purred, locking eyes with him from across the expanse of your body. “Don’t stop.”

“Sweeter than the whipped cream,” he mumbled, kissing your clit before sucking it into his mouth until your thighs were shaking.

“Fuck, Javi…you’re perfect,” you moaned, letting your head fall back against the mattress. “Want your fingers.”

“Yeah?” he rasped, his tone teasing. “How many, baby? One?” Your breath hitched as he slipped his pointer finger inside of you, slowly working you open until he was hooking it up towards your favorite spot. “Two?” He added another and earned a wanton mewl that you quickly silenced with your hand over your mouth, your brows scrunched in pleasure at the thick width of his skillful fingers. “Can you take three?”

“Yes, fuck, please,” you managed, spreading your legs even wider out of sheer need to let him take all of you, whatever he wanted.

Javier’s thick fingers curved into you, the room filling with vulgar wet sounds as he targeted that spot inside while swirling his tongue over you until your entire body was shaking with your impending release. He wore a grin the entire time as you whispered chants of praise and used his name like he was your lord and savior.

“Come on, baby,” he purred, sucking your clit into his mouth just right. Your hands clawed at the comforter for purchase as your brain went fuzzy with euphoria, every nerve in your body singing his name. “There you go. Such a good fucking girl—“

“Javi, fuck me,” you begged, still lost in your climax. Your hands reached for his strong arms to pull him on top of you, not that he needed any persuading. Javi was quick to mold his lips to yours as he gripped his weeping length at the base, lining it up with your still pulsing heat before sinking in all the way in one slick thrust.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he hissed, his face falling into the crook of your neck as his hips worked on their own accord, snapping into yours like he needed to in order to survive. “Baby, shit,” he whispered into your ear before nipping at your earlobe. “You’re so fucking wet. Do you hear that?”

Both of you silenced your moans and pants for a moment to hear the sinful squelch of his cock moving in and out of you, the sound alone making you whine and rest your hands on his ass to pull him impossibly closer. Javier managed to compose himself enough to sit up on his knees, rolling you onto your side while he was still inside of you. You gasped at the new position, the way he hugged your leg to his chest as he straddled the other, his cock pressing in so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he grunted, bringing one hand down to slap your ass just hard enough for it to sting pleasurably. “Look at you. All fucking mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Javi, fuck,” you cried, your face ruined with pleasure as he inched you closer and closer to your second release with his voice.

“You like the way I fit inside you? The way I make you cum, baby?” he asked, a proud smile on his face as he watched your face scrunch even more.

“Javi, I’m so close,” you whined, reaching to grip his forearm. “Please don’t stop.”

“Not gonna stop, baby,” he assured, kissing your ankle as it rested on his shoulder. “Not gonna stop until we cum together, alright? You feel so fucking good. Always feel so fucking good.”

“Javi!” you cried, unable to control your volume even with the looming knowledge that Javi’s father was just on the other side of the quiet home.

“That’s it,” he purred, slowing his thrusts as your cunt squeezed him so tight that he had no choice but to join you in your ecstasy. “Fuck.”

You hardly had a minute to catch your breath before McCartney’s paw began scratching at your door, a chuckle slipping from Javi’s lips as he let your leg drop from his hold, his chest heaving from exertion.

“Forgot about our son,” he panted, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as you remained spent and curled up on your side. “Gotta pull out,” he warned, a hiss slipping from both of your lips as he carefully slid out of you, Javi’s eyes glued to the spend that dripped out of you in turn. “Fuck. I’m glad we took the week off.”

You laughed, rolling over onto your back with a satisfied smile, your head turning to follow him as he slipped on a pair of briefs and flannel pajama pants before opening the bedroom door up for McCartney.

“Hi, Macca,” you rasped, welcoming the dog onto the bed with a scratch behind his ears.

“Sorry kid, Mommy and daddy were wrestling,” Javi said, slipping under the covers on his side of the bed. Willing yourself up, you winced at the feeling of Javi’s spend leaking down your thighs as you walked to the bathroom to relieve yourself and clean up a bit before putting on your usual sleep clothes and tucking in beside your two favorite boys.

“That new position,” you started, rolling onto your side to watch as Javi pet McCartney as he laid in between the two of you.

“Good?”

“Really good,” you said, smiling at the way your cunt still pulsed with aftershocks. “And your dirty talk.”

“Yeah? You like my voice, bebita? Like it when I’m cocky?” he teased, shooing McCartney down to the foot of the bed so that he could fill the gap between your bodies, his lips pressing against yours in something slow and sensual.

“I like when you’re cocky in the bedroom,” you corrected with a smirk, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertip. “Did you have a good Thanksgiving?”

“I had the best Thanksgiving,” he said, pecking your forehead. “How about you?”

“I had a really, really good day,” you smiled. “And I’m glad you didn’t propose to me in front of everyone on a holiday.”

“Was that really on the table?” he chuckled.

“Mickey thought that’s why you were so sour about her engagement,” you replied.

“No, I know you too well by now to think that you’d be into something like that,” he said. “I’m not into a huge public proposal either. Too many people watching me be happy, doesn’t sit right.”

You laughed and nodded, understanding him completely.

“I don’t really even want a huge wedding,” he continued. “Just the people who really matter.”

“That’s exactly what I want. Something tiny, here in our backyard or at your dad’s ranch,” you said. “Just me and you and like ten other people.”

“I love you,” he said, leaning in to kiss you again. “And I’m gonna get the ring right, and then I’m going to propose right, and then I’m going to marry you right. If that’s the only thing I do right in this lifetime, that’s fucking plenty.”

“Dr. Peña, I am so glad I fucked you in that on call room half a year ago,” you beamed, curling into his warmth and resting your head on his chest. “That’ll forever be the best irresponsible decision I’ve ever made.”

“We were just kids back then,” he chuckled. “Or at least I was.”

“I think if we were to go back and time and tell them everything that we’ve been through, they’d call us fucking idiots.”

“Younger Javi wouldn’t buy it solely because I still don’t know how I ended up with you,” he said, his voice raspy as he dozed off. “But I’m fucking glad I did.”

“That makes two of us,” you said, kissing his chest where his heart beat. “Love you.”

“Love you, bebita.”

[king-casino]

hellooo,,, ur art makes me very happy 😭

ummm,, if u want to share,, do u have any either sniperspy or dad!spy headcanons???

Dad!Spy:

-scout and spy make the same face whenever they kill someone in a particularly sadistic way

-scouts name is actually spelt the french way, Jérémy

-once it was revealed that spy was scouts dad, they tried to do "father son bonding" activities. Scouts idea was playing baseball, but that just ended in scout hitting a ball directly into spys face. Multiple times.

-spys idea for bonding was drinking scotch by the fireplace and not talking. Which. Is not scouts strong point.

-eventually they found things they can do together. One of which is cooking! Spy loves to make fancy french food, and scout helped his mom out in the kitchen a lot.

-spy taught scout how to make french omelettes. Scout had a hard time with the rolling at first, but when he got the hang of it he was very proud of himself

-scout basically forced spy to listen to Tom Jones' entire discography. But in return scout had to listen to spy talk about his knife collection.

Sniperspy:

-sniper is totally autistic and semi-verbal FIGHT ME. He talks with sign language sometimes when he doesn't wanna talk, and for a good while Pyro was the only one who understood him. But once spy and sniper got together, sniper taught spy sign language at spy's request.

-spy likes sneaking up on sniper and taking his hat before saying hi to him. Sniper acts angy but lets it slide because spy looks pretty cute in his hat.

-in fact, sniper loves seeing spy in his clothes. Possessive animal instincts.

-they exchange small gifts a lot. Spy gives sniper fancy rings and other small shiny things. Sniper makes spy little nick-nacks. He made spy a necklace out of a crocodile tooth and a leather cord. Spy wears it everyday. Sniper wears the rings spy got him, choosing different ones each day.

-sniper deffo does wood carving in his spare time, and gives the random things he makes to spy. Spy loves them and displays them in his smoking room

-both of them tend to get caught up in things and forget to eat, so the other usually brings food when they do.

-sniper was definitely touch starved before getting together with spy. At first he was very awkward and stiff about affection, but after awhile he was all over spy. He's like an octopus when they're alone.

-in regards to PDA, spy is more likely to engage in it. One of his favorite things to do is rile up sniper while they're in public. Like standing super close to sniper and putting his hand in sniper's back pocket, basically groping him! Spy's a little pest, and pretends like nothing is wrong while sniper looks like a frickin tomato next to him

-scout is good friends with sniper, and is absolutely horrified that sniper is dating his dad. Whenever he sees them kiss or whatever, he makes a big show of gagging and saying "EWWWWWWW" like a little kid

-spy is polyamous, but sniper is not. In the way that sniper only wants to be with spy, but he's fine with spy dating other people. He's a little possessive, but ultimately all he wants is for spy to be happy. Their dynamic is that spy won't have casual sex with people, like one night stands or friends with benefits type things. But if he wants to go on dates and have a serious relationship, he will.

-spy is still in a serious relationship with Scout's mom, who's also polyamous. Though she prefers casual relationships with other people that aren't spy.

OK SORRY FOR THE LONG POST I JUST THINK ABOUT THEM A LOT

[blue-jisungs]

okok 33, 50, 76 for the first uhhh thinf i think prompts... 2, 3, 20 for actions 🤭 i tried to pair thrm up HELP also i think i wantttt lee know ml THANK U AXE SLAYYY IM SO HAPPY FOR U OM OGMGOGMF

grumpy

a/n. MWAH THANK YOU!! ILYSM <333 I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT :D

lee know was grumpy for the whole week. you didn’t know what happened because he avoided talking about it. and even though he acted like he’s fine, you could clearly see his annoyance when a minor convince appeared or his coffee didn’t have the desired amount of sugar.

but you, being the amazing girlfriend you are, decided to risk a bit and cheer him up (even if there was a risk of getting your arm bitten off).

"lino!" you called him and right away heard his soft steps. you didn't have to wait long until his head peeked out from behind the corner. he just sent you a confused stare. "wanna cook dinner together with me?"

if you didn't know him that well, you wouldn't notice his gaze softening. but, lucky for you, you did.

"whatever. i was bored eitherway. what are we having?" he asked, coming closer. his steps were still careful, like a curious but cautious cat.

"i was thinking some rice, pork and kimchi? your mom gave me some homemade kimchi so we can also use that" you hummed and he tilted his head. again, cat behaviour.

"my mom gave you her homemade kimchi? when was that?" he asked, coming up to you.

"when we went over to dinner at her place. it was a week ago. i know you’re getting old but…" you started and saw that a frown appeared on his face. was that the reason of his behaviour for the whole week…?

his hands on your waist made you stop thinking about it for a while and you looked him in the eye.

"what?" you asked, not able to control the growing smile on your face.

"i’m not old. bang chan is" he hummed and gently reached for your hair to tie it in a ponytail.

"mhm. before we start cooking, i have a request" you said and when he was done with your hair, you looked up at minho. his gaze was full of love, thumbs drawing circles on your hips.

"and that is?" lee know asked, faking an annoyed tone.

"kiss me" you grinned, moving your hands onto his shoulders.

"say that again" he finally broke, sending you a warm smile. there he is, your lover boy.

"kiss me, old man–" you broke into a chuckle but his soft, plush lips shut you up. he tasted like coffee and vanilla but you didn’t mind at all.

when he leaned away, he rolled his eyes.

"you’re a menace. now let’s cook because i’m getting hungry" lee know said and let go out you, starting to take out the ingredients from the fridge.

you decided to chop some radish and started humming something whilst searching for a knife. you weren’t aware that your boyfriend’s gaze was glued to you, his heart melting into a puddle. why and how are you so adorable?

his eyes focused on your hands as you worked on cutting the vegetables. then an intrusive thought made him came up to you. he slowly grabbed the knife and put it away just to place his palm against yours, which was way smaller.

"people say i have cat features but… this reminds me of a kitten’s paw" minho said softly, letting out a quiet chuckle. you just looked at him in disbelief and be continued to make your stomach stir with butterflies "take my hand. but here, like that"

he actually put his hand on top of yours and stood behind you. then he navigated you to grab the knife. when you did, you started chopping the raffish again but this time with lee know’s assistance.

"wait, we forgot something!" you gasped dramatically and lee know halted his movements. you raised yours and his hands up, pressing his onto your lips and placing a tender kiss on his knuckles "here we go. now let’s get back to work"

"aish…" he scoffed, cheeks reddening. good for him you weren’t able to see him right now.

actually your idea worked. lee know’s worries washed away. only if he knew that the reason of him grumpiness was his mom finding out he bought an engagement ring for you. because of that he was scared she’ll tell you. luckily for him she didn’t.

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @lhsng ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinhobi

[namjoonscoffeeshop]

Karmic Soulmates|JJK

✧ Pairing:Jeon Jungkook x reader

✧ warning(s): explicit language, knife pointing(?), violence

✧ word count: 2.9k words

mini m.list | Next

Today you decided to stay open late since the morning was slow you wanted to get as many sells as you could, the cafe was quiet and there was no customers other than quick visits who want a muffin or coffee but no one stayed. You stare out the window as you sit behind the cashier, your spine straightens and your heart begins to race. Outside the glass door you see a black Audi you knew only too well. 

A man steps out of the car, opening his umbrella as he shuts the door. You swallow, standing up from the small stool, I should’ve closed early you thought. Bitting your bottom lip. Inhaling you wait to hear the door bell chime alerting you that a customer has entered.  

You make eye contact with the man it was short as he looks down, placing his umbrella in the stand. “Nice place you got” 

“Why are you here” you ask, not wanting his visit to be long. He pushes his hair back, eyes falling on you as he watches your figure, he lets out a low chuckle “not even a hey how you been?” 

It was your turn to laugh, “didn’t know we had that type of relation ship” but you did. He was your first, in everything. Your first kiss…everything. You both were stuck in that world and only you got out but he didn’t. 

He nods his head, a small grin on his face. His hand reaches in his jackets pocket pulling out a black envelope with the golden wax seal you recognized instantly “he’s dead” 

Your eyes widen as you stare at the envelope thats being held out in front of you. “They want you to hold the funeral” he places down the envelope on the counter when you don’t receive it. 

“But he told me to not return” you mutter. he exhales, hand reaching for the envelope as he opens it and takes out the paper showing it to you “and that man is dead, namjoon overruled his order and said you can return” 

Namjoon, your older brother. Son of the gang leader, once you’re dad sent you away for not agreeing to the arranged marriage he had set for you. Namjoon took you out of that place and sent jungkook to relocate you somewhere else where you could live a normal life. And now he wants you to return. 

“Why didn’t you ever visit me, only you knew where I was” 

“Didn’t think you want anything to do with me, when I didn’t agree to leave with you. You were really clear” leaning over the counter his hand reaches for your face, holding your chin “you look gorgeous” he grins 

“You aren’t so bad yourself” your heart was pounding against your chest, it’s been six years but you never got over jungkook, how could you? He was your everything, he still is. 

His faces inches from yours as his breath hits your face , “jungkook..”

“Hmm” he response, and he’s kissing you. You don’t push him away as he kissed you softly, enjoying every second as his hand grips your nape tilting your head back and you realize you missed this, you missed him and you will never have enough from him. He’s kissing you harder, deeper with an urge you’ve never felt before. He stops with the sound of his phone ringing. 

Foreheads against each other as you both try to catch your breath, a smile on both your lips. Reaching into his jacket he takes out his phone, pecking your lips once more before he answers the phone. 

“Yeah?” 

“Oh, hey love” he moves back, your body freezes as you stare at jungkook as he wipes his bottom lip with his dumb, eyes never leaving yours. “Yeah, I’m just on an errand namjoon sent me on” 

You shift in your spot, not believing what you were hearing “alright, see you tomorrow. Yeah love you too” pang

Your heart just squeezed in your chest and you felt like throwing the jar of straws at him. He puts the phone down, hanging up. “Back to this…namjoon told me to bring you tonight to his place” he looks up once he puts his phone away. 

“You kissed me..while dating someone?”

“I’m engaged actually” he shrugs “and what about it”

“Why”

“Why am I engaged or?…” he raises a brow 

“No, why did you kiss me” you spat 

“Because I felt like it, and I know you did too” your jaw was about to hit the ground at his answer but you kept your composure trying not to give him the satisfaction. “Y/n, come on we have to go” 

“Just give me the address, I’ll go on my own” you give him your back, grabbing a mug from the sink as you begin to wash it. Turning on the water trying to block him off but he walks around the counter. “ don’t tell me it bothered you, it was just a kiss” he groans.

“I could care less, but as you can see I need to close up and clean. I don’t really care about whose funeral it is or if my brother is calling for me after all this time. no one owns me anymore”

You ignore how his body leans against the counter next to you, arms crossed against his chest as he stares at you “you know this place was only possible because of your brother right”

You turn to look at him with a face that said “and?” 

He shakes his head, letting out a chuckle “it’s funny how you hated everything about that world but the moment it benefited you, then it wasn’t dirty money” 

Dropping the mug into the sink you wipe your hands on the towel “you don’t know anything” your finger poking at his chest, “take me to my brother so we can get over this shit” 

“He can’t tonight” jungkook speaks up, he was getting on your nerves. “Then leave and Come back when he’s ready to see me” you reach into the sink ready to finish washing the dishes when he grips your arm pulling you towards him but you grip the knife, your swift moves catch him off guard and in a blink of an eye the tip of the knife is against his throat. His hand slowly letting go of your arm, he raises them up in defeat “haven’t lost your touch huh”

“I left, doesn’t mean I forgot what I had to go through to survive in there” 

“I can see” his eyes dart to the knife and back at you “you’ve been getting on my nerves since you got here” he smirks, his hands move quickly as he pushes the knife down, twisting your hand. You yelp, grip loosening as he gets a hold of the handle, but your free hand reaches behind him grabbing another knife directly placing it at his throat again as he does the same to you. the both of you stare at the knife each of you have against your throat. 

“You were a member, I was his daughter. You won’t ever be better than me” your voice sounds stern. His eyes soften as he stares at your eyes that were glaring at him “you don’t know what I had to go through being exactly that, his daughter. So this store was the least I could’ve gotten”  his hand lowers, dropping the knife on the counter “I’ll take you to him” he says. 

“Should’ve started with that” putting the knife down you walk towards the back, where no one would see and lift a counter top which revealed two duffel bags “take one and let’s head out” without asking anything he takes both of them ignoring your stares as he walks back to the front and holds the door for you. You finish shutting off all the lights. You pick up the umbrella, only covering yourself as you lock the door he is already putting the duffel bags in the trunk. 

“It’s getting late, we should hurry” he looks around, as if he was checking our surroundings. And it made sense, he was dead. 

“Right”

The ride was silent, your eyes kept shutting on you, he noticed. Reaching towards the back he pulls out a blanket “here sleep, it’s going to be a long ride” and you listened, why? Because he was the only person you’d ever trust. Even if he just had a knife to your throat, you would trust this man with your life. 

———

The safe house was different, it wasn’t the one you had once lived in. Entering the front door you look up to the high ceilings with hanging chandeliers. Jungkook hits your shoulder with his as his chin nudges down the hall making you follow him as he steps off. “New house?”

“Yeah, last one got bombed”

“Sounds like shit went down”

“Well you never asked how he died”  you stop in your steps but he doesn’t, to his broad back you say “is namjoon ok, tell me now so I’m ready” 

“He wasn’t there if thats what you wanted to know. So he’s perfectly fine and healthy” you quickly catch up to him, your shoes squeaking against the floor. 

“Open” jungkook tells the two men in black suits who were guarding the door. jungkook drop the duffel bags on the ground by the sofa, turning towards the man who was talking to someone who you recognized right away. 

Both men turn their heads at the sound of the duffel bags hitting the floor, namjoons eyes drift from the bags to you “well if it isn’t my little sister” 

“Hey” you give him a small smile

“Hey? That’s all I get after all this time?” He speaks louder, feet moving as he walks towards you, pulling you into a tight hug “I’ve fucking missed you” 

“Should’ve visited me” you sarcastically say 

“You know I couldn’t” hands against his chest you push him away “then you didn’t miss me” he didn’t react to your words he always knew that you hated the life you were born in, you both were close but once you turned eleven everything changed. You were put into a safe house and trained to fight. You went through so much, and had no choice. Jungkook father was one of your dads closest friends, thats how you met him and how he became someone special to you. He was the only person who could be with you, and even alone with you. 

“You know why you’re here right?” He says softly 

“Yeah, you want to know where the map is” you stare at the multiple men who are in the room. Their eyes never meeting yours as they stare at the wall whichever point they were focusing on. “You can trust everyone here” he smiles 

“I don’t think so” you smile back. He stares at you for a moment before he gives you a small nods “everyone leave except seokjin” 

And you were fine with that. 

“First I want to say something” you speak once the door shuts. Namjoon’s attention focused on you “ you have to find a new holder. I don’t want this responsibility on me anymore. Second you need to get rid of my map” namjoon nods “that’s fine with me, but as for the holder, that might take a while. You know it has to be a women for some reason” 

“Stupid traditions, just fucking give it to someone you trust” you glare at him 

“Traditions can be broken” he raises his arms in defeat. Turning to jungkook you ask him for the duffel bags. He lifts them placing them on the table in front of namjoon. Once he steps aside you open the duffel bags and tilt them over letting the stacks on money flow out and some fall to the ground “this is me paying back for my cafe” you toss the duffel bags behind you. All three men stare at the money and look up at you. 

“You don’t have to-“ 

"I do" you cut your brother off, “as much as I love and miss you. After this I want to never see you. By that I mean never see this world again” he hesitated but he nods, he clears the table in one swift motion of his arm, the money falls on the ground. 

“The map, and it’s over then” 

“You should get a paper and pen” you say, turning your back to both men, you drop your jacket. Holding up your hair in a messy bun. jungkook quickly picking up the small blanket from the sofa as you lift your shirt up, undoing your bra. Jungkook hands you the blanket, as you cover your front but back completely exposed. 

“What the fuck” both men say in unison. 

The map was tattooed onto your back, and it wasn’t a simple X marks the spot map it was a detailed map with the boarder of the map being the names of all the people of the high table. And the X was the location of the high table’s supreme house. Where namjoon had to go in order to became the next head of house. 

Jungkook stares at you as you stand there exposing your back. Memories come back to him as his father had two men hold you down at the age of eleven as he tattooed the map to your back. “When did he do this”

“The same day he took me away” his hands clench into fists “jungkook” he says, eyes darting at him “you don’t look surprised” 

“Cause I had already seen it, my father was the one who did it….and” his eyes softly look at you. 

“We had sex, it’s not that hard to say; now is it” you eye jungkook who just stared back at you 

“Who’s gonna be the next person to draw this on someones body” you groan, just thinking about what eleven year old is going to have to go through this 

“Me” jungkook responds, 

“Well shit…you better start drawing then. I wanna leave”  and he does, he moves towards the back of the room where he picks up a pad and walks back to you. “ here sit” he pulls the stool over to you “I’m already ready, I know you hate this” even if he was a asshole earlier, when it came to this, your childhood and his. He did not joke. 

Sitting on the stool you grip the blanket, covering yourself. 

Your brother and jin were just starting at your back, shocked. They had wondered where you could have hidden the map. But it never crossed their mind that it could be tattooed on you. Jin looks at the ground, seeing the mountains of money on the ground “you made a mess, why did you push the money down”  he laughs 

“I thought she was going to bring out a paper or something or ask for a paper to Draw the map not this” he argues back 

“Not to be rude but can you both shut up while I draw this”

“I’m surprised  you don’t have it memorized after having sex with her” jin says, hating the Youngers attitude. Namjoon slaps his shoulder, glaring at him in disapproval of his comment. Both of you unaffected. “What?!” Jin yells 

“This is going to be long” you sigh 

“Yeah, now stay still” jungkook inhales, eyes moving from your back to the pad

————-

The room was silent, it was deep into the night and you were still sitting on the stool. Your body was stiff from sitting straight and trying not to move. 

“We can take a break” jungkook says, stretching himself he too was tired. “I’d rather not, I want to leave” you stare at the wall ahead of you, not moving. 

You hear how he sighs, and the squeakiness of the chair as he gets up. His footsteps slowly getting to you. And then you felt it, how his hand touches your back gently. Giving you goosebumps as you shake in your skin “what are you doing” 

“My family is the one in charge of this, transition. And as I grew up with my father on my neck teaching me to be the best at this…I hated the thought that the next time I saw you. It would be because I had to get a hold of the map” 

His finger tips slowly slid along your back, following the lines of the tattoo. As he took in every detail “I knew you had it…the map. And recently until they sent me to get you. There was a meeting where everyone guessed where you could’ve hid it” he chuckles, the warmth of his finger tips as he traced your tattoo made your breath fasten gripping the blanket tighter 

“Namjoon pulled me aside and asked me if I knew, and I told him I did” you turn, giving him a shock look “are you fucking stupid” 

“I knew that if I said that to someone else they’d kill me but he wouldn’t, or at-least the answer to his next question really determined if he’d kill me or not” 

You give him your back again, his hand not returning to trace the lines. “He said if I had seen it in detail” he chuckles “and I thought, all the times we were together. You never let me look at it. Saying that you wanted to protect me, but I always thought it was cause you didn’t trust me” he laughs. 

you turn your head, look into his golden brown eyes "i just wanted to protect you"

[bugflies00]

FOSTERING AU TIMEEE when ctntduo propose to each other it turns into a competition because. well. its tntduo .

so on a date night q brings wilbur to this like fancy resort to have dinner (like a mansion type restaurant hotel thing idk) and after the meal they go out on the terrace and theres a fireworks show. and theyre both watching and q gets down on one knee and waits except wilbur's just so transfixed by the fireworks Mans Does Not Notice😭 q has to clear his throat like three times for wil to finally turn around and see it. AND IMMEDIATELY WHACKS HIM ON THE HEAD because hes pissed that q got to him first while he ALSO has a ring in the drawer at home. and then i mean you know the deal the ring the heartfelt speech (wilburs crying like an absolute baby) etc.

then wilbur makes him promise not to tell anyone else theyre engaged until he's proposed to him too because quote "it doesnt count until ive asked too" and "its not fair you took me by surprise thats foul play" (Normal reactions to being asked in marriage.) . and so weeks pass and q's getting impatient but the thing is wilburs competitive as shit meaning not only does he want to propose back to q, he wants to Actually surprise him like he intended to.

so he waits ages and finally he invites q on a date night like he did to propose. but he knows q would hate anything as showy or public as his fireworks-show-proposal was, he'd much rather something quiet & private. so after having dinner somewhere nice, he makes them take a stroll around town and land up in a park thats like uphill, where theres a nice view of the whole town (I Do Not Know where they live . Just imagine ok) and proposes there and its sickeningly sweet obviously .

Q does threaten murder on him because he got jumpscared by wil kneeling and thought he was like dying or something and so he pulled out a knife. Yknow like i said theyre normal . Anyway so thats how the proposals went and after that is the scene i already talked about where wil tells tommy hes engaged

[conradscrime]

The Twisted Crimes of Catholic Priest Hans Schmidt

January 28, 2024

Hans Schmidt was born in 1881 in a Bavarian town called Aschaffenburg. It was said that both of Hans' parents sides of the family had struggled with mental illness.

Hans was beaten by his father as a child and often watched his mother get beaten too. Hans also had a fascination with drinking blood and was interested in bisexuality. He was also fascinated with the death of animals, often watching farm animals die at the village slaughterhouse.

Hans was ordained as a Catholic priest on December 23, 1904 by Bishop Kirstein, despite many people believing he did not have the proper morals or mental capacity to do this kind of work.

Hans began molesting altar boys, was having affairs with various women, and was involved with sex workers. Many fellow priests complained to the Bishop about Hans, and eventually he had to move to the US in 1909, as they stopped giving him parish assignments due to the complaints.

He was assigned to St. John's Roman Catholic Church in Louisville, Kentucky, but was soon transfered to St. Boniface's Church in New York as he got into it with a senior pastor.

Hans met a woman named Anna Aumüller in New York in 1912. She was the housekeeper of the church and had emigrated from the Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1910. Hans later claimed he had heard a "voice from God" telling him to love Anna. Anna originally turned down Hans, but eventually engaged in a sexual relationship with him.

In December 1912, Hans began a secret sexual relationship with a New York dentist named Ernest Muret. The two men began operating a counterfeiting ring together.

Hans was then transfered to another church in Harlem but it did not stop him from keeping his secret relationship with Anna. The two even got married secretly, a ceremony Hans performed.

During sex with Anna, Hans later said he received a command from God, telling him Anna needed to be sacrificed. Hans said it was very persistent so he told Anna and she called him crazy. Anna began pregnant shortly after this.

On September 2, 1913, Hans went to the apartment him and Anna had been pretending to live in as a married couple. Hans slit Anna's throat while she was sleeping and then drank her blood. He also raped her while she bled and dismembered her body, throwing pieces of it into the river.

Anna's torso washed up on Cliffside Park and Weehawken, New Jersey. Hans had used a pillowcase to wrap part of Anna's body and there was still a tag on it. This was traced to Hans, after he had bought the pillowcases on August 26, 1913 using the name A. Van Dyke.

Police staked out the apartment for three days, but Hans did not return so they broke into the apartment to search it. The floors had recently been scrubbed, but dried blood was found on the walls. A bloody knife was found in the kitchen. Men's clothing with the name A. Van Dyke sewn into the clothes were found, but letters in the apartment were addressed to Hans Schmidt.

Lots of the letters were sent from women in Germany, but most of them were sent from Anna. This led the police to the address Anna had provided, but she was not there. They traced everything back to Hans who had admitted immediately that he killed Anna.

Hans plead guilty by reason of insanity. Due to his family's history with mental illness many thought he was insane. However, many people who interacted with Hans did think he was sane. This led to a hung jury in December 1913.

The second trial began two weeks later and it was found that Hans had actually taken out a $5000 life insurance policy in a woman's name of Bertha Zech, who was posing as Anna.

On February 5, 1914, after three hours, the jury found Hans guilty of first degree murder. He was sentenced to death. In December 1914, Hans admitted he was faking being insane during the trials. He also accused Ernest, the dentist he was having an affair with of accidentally killing Anna while performing an abortion.

On February 18, 1916, Hans went in the electric chair at Sing Sing. In a muffled voice, his last words were saying goodbye to his mother. Hans' family wanted to ship his body to Germany, but because of World War I it was impossible to do so. Hans was buried in New York, but his family requested that the location be a secret.

Hans has been suspected in at least 4 other murders. He had been seen with a woman named Helen Green, who then disappeared. She was never found. Hans was also seen with a woman he claimed was his wife when he first moved to the US. This woman disappeared.

The apartment Hans lived in he was seen with a 5 year old boy in his living room by the owner of the building. Hans said the boy was his son, but he then disappeared. He told the owner his son's name was August Van Dyke.

Hans was a suspect in the murder of 9 year old Alma Kellner, whose body was found burned in the basement of St. John's Church in Louisville, Kentucky, which he worked. Her body had been burned and the killer attempted to dismember her.

It was eventually discovered that the church janitor, Joseph Wendling was responsible. He was sentenced to life in prison, but Alma's uncle requested for him to be pardoned and he was deported to France in 1935.

[sithbvcky]

CHARADE

Inspired by the film "The Man From U.N.C.L.E", after learning of your estranged father's nefarious ties to an underground organization, you find yourself caught in the middle of two enemy spies and a whole lot of trouble. Bucky x Female!Reader. Warnings: Language, typical spy violence Word count: 1,356

CHARADE PART TWO

Arm in arm, you and James continued on your walk through Rome. You turned down a path that lead you to an area full of some ancient ruins. When from out of the shadows of some crumbling columns ahead of you, two men emerged. The ones Sam had warned about. 

“Nice shoes.” The first man commented. 

“Thank you.” James remarked, continuing on the path ahead. 

“Perhaps you give them to me.” The first man stated. James stopped and looked back at the man, 

“I think your feet are a little… small.” James started to move forward again when the second man spoke up.

“Then, gimme some money for coffee.” The Italian accents were thick. James stopped again.

“Dearest, give the gentleman something for coffee.” You interrupted, seeing the growing irritation in James’ face. With a sigh and a nod, James took out his wallet to hand the man some money. The man snatched the money and James’ wallet. James’ face was hard, 

“Enjoy your coffee.” He hooked arms with you again and moved to keep going along the path when the first man stepped in front. The second man revealed a knife, you two were cornered. 

“Nice watch.” The second man said. James glared at him. Sensing the rising tension you spoke up again,

“Darling, give him the watch.”

“And the ring!” The second man demanded. This time you were the one shooting a glare in his direction. With an urgent look towards James, you took off your engagement ring and gave it to the man. 

“Thank you.” He smiled with a fiendish look. James continued to stand in silence, his face turned to stone. 

“Give me the watch!” The second man demanded, slapping James across the face. 

“Give him the watch!” The first man landed another slap. James’ his hand began shake, his eyes darting from side to side as he pondered his next move. 

“James, do as he says.” You stated sternly, James looked at you and for a moment his gaze seemed to soften. Begrudgingly, James handed over the watch and the second man spit at him while the first man began to laugh. Then, James snapped. Without looking he punched the second man in the throat, sending him to the ground as he struggled to breathe. The first man pulled a gun and James moved towards him but you intercepted, holding him back. Holding his arms to his sides as she struggled to break from your grip, 

“Calm down.” You whispered, as the first man helped his friend up and the two of them walked away. You let go of James. 

“Not very good at this whole subtlety thing, are you?” Sam’s voice appeared from nowhere as he walked up to you both. With a voice trembling with anger James replied,

“That man stole Steve’s watch!” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be an architect?” Sam ignored his first statement

“Yes, an architect would fight back if he was being disrespected, a KGB agent would’ve killed them both.” James shot back angrily.  “So it’s not trouble unless you continue to question my actions.” He finished. 

“So you actually have thought this thing through?” Sam retorted sarcastically. 

“Would you like to finish this a different way?” James threatened. 

“Stop!” You shouted. Both men turned to look at you. 

“Aren’t you both supposed to be looking after me? So why am I playing mother, huh?” You asked, walking towards them. 

“Either you two start to look like you know what you’re doing, or I quit.” You stated, turning away to walk towards the path you and James were originally taking. Sam looked back at James, as if to silently say you were right. 

LATER THAT EVENING

Comfortably in your hotel room, you began rummaging around the liquor cabinet as James sat playing chess by himself. The phone rang, it was your Uncle Rudy who worked alongside the Russo’s. 

“Everything is alright, Uncle. James’ is a little shaken up, he’s never been in a fight before.” You glanced at James who met your gaze nervously as you finished your conversation. Hanging up the phone, a bottle and two glasses in your hand you went to sit on the couch adjacent to the chair James was in. 

“That was Uncle Rudy, he’s invited us to the Russo’s party celebrating the 50th anniversary of their company tomorrow.” You said, filling up both the glasses and gulping down one for yourself. You extended the other to James, 

“Drink?” 

“No, thank you.” He focus returned to the chess board. You chugged the glass meant for James with a sigh, he looked at you in slight awe. 

“Would you like a bigger glass?” He teased,

“I plan to finish the bottle.” You stated, pouring two more glasses. “The only question is, are you going to help me or not.” 

“No, thank you.” James said. You rolled your eyes and took a sip from the new glass. A brief moment of silence passed between you. 

“Are you having fun?” You asked, with no reply. With a sigh, you grabbed the bottle and your glass and stood up from the couch. Walking into the other room in the sweet where the beds were located. You switched on the radio and turned up the volume, glass in hand you began to dance. Twisting and swaying about the room, waiting to see how long it would take him to get up.

“This is not a good idea.” He grumbled, his back still facing you. Ignoring him, you continued to spin and twirl to your hearts delight. Frustrated, James got up and headed towards you. 

“I’m going to bed, please turn it off.” He stated, as you shimmied to him preventing him from getting to his bed. 

“It’s not fun dancing by yourself. I need a partner.” You flirted, looking up into his blue eyes that were doing their best not to make eye contact. 

“No.” Was all he said. 

“As in, you can’t dance? Or you don’t want to.” You replied, still gazing up at him. 

“We’ll just say both.” He muttered. You reached for his left hand, then the other, taking both in your hands you began to playfully force him to move. You continued to be his puppeteer for a moment, before lifting his left hand up to slap him across the face. Immediately, any short of enjoyment on his expression disappeared. 

“Sorry.” You stifled a giggle as you continued to move his arms in a mock dance, then taking his right hand to slap him again. 

“You are not in a mechanic shop anymore.” He pointed his finger at your scoldingly. 

“No drink?” You teased, taking a sip from your glass. 

“Don’t you make me put you over my knee.” He threatened. You set your glass down, 

“So you won’t dance, but you do want to wrestle.” 

“What? No, that’s not- Before he could finish his sentence, you lunged for him. Grabbing him around the waist and pushing him back into the main area of the suite. Slamming him into the arm of the couch, he flopped onto the floor with you on top. This continued for a good while, destroying the furniture, breaking the tables and glass until you finally ran out of energy. You had him pinned to the ground, both of you heaving in exhaustion. You stared down at him, and him back up at you as you slowly began to succumb to the sleepiness. Ever so slightly, leaning closer and closer towards him. Your faces were just breaths from each other now, his features were the softest you’d ever seen them since you met. A gentle side of a beast. You collapsed, dropping your head on his shoulder leaving him in a state of confusion. 

Carefully, he carried you to your bed and gently tucked you in. 

“Sleep well, little mechanic.” He whispered, moving to walk away till you gripped his hand preventing him from doing so. The gesture happened for a brief second before you lost your grip but it lingered with James, a sudden feeling coming over him that he knew could not be allowed to continue. 

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@mostlymarvelgirl