#i swear she's not as angry as the gif would imply but huh

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Could I possibly request a little Negan x hispanic!Reader? Reader has 3 kids from before the apocalypse and the toddler seems not to be scared of Negan?

Wandering Babies

Negan x plus size reader

When the ruthless leader of the Saviours bumps into a lost toddler in his city, his life gets changed forever, especially when his protective mother shows up.

Warnings: Negan being Negan, swearing, implied future relationship, fluff

WC: 1.3k

A/N: Hi nonnie! I don't usually write y/ns with a specific race since I like to remain as open as I can with them but I did give her kids traditionally Spanish names so I hope that was ok!

Minors DNI

“Well well well, what the fuck do we have here?” The sun shone brightly behind the giant of a man, casting his face in shadow. To any normal person, it would have scared the absolute shit out of them, especially with the looming threat of Lucille across his shoulders, but the toddler in front of him was smiling the whole time.

His big brown eyes focused on the man in front of him, looking at him in a way that only babies could. Kneeling down, Negan came face to face with the child. “The fuck do you want?” He said like he was addressing someone below him but the two year old just burst out into giggles, obviously finding this whole thing hilarious.

“I think that’s the new-comer’s kid.” Simon chose that moment to speak up and caused Negan to roll his eyes.

“Yeah I fuckin figured that.” He growled, not taking his eyes off the kid who was now inching closer. He wasn’t quite steady on his feet and wobbled dangerously with each step he took. Unconsciously, Negan’s free hand shot out and held the surprisingly plump belly of the child, keeping him upright. Tiny hands grabbed at his wrist but didn’t attempt to push him away. Instead he touched Negan's arm, pulling at the sleeve of his leather jacket. 

“I’m just wondering how the fuck someone could lose a goddamn kid.” The toddler continued to fiddle with the dark fabric, Negan only stopping him when he tried to put it in his mouth.

Simon shrugged behind his boss. “I mean she’s got three of em and she’s working in the kitchens and the infirmary.” That shocked the older man. Working two jobs was unheard of in the Sanctuary, one job could provide more than enough for someone and their family.

The kid suddenly released his wrist and raised his arms over his head, opening and closing his chubby hands in a clear sign. Releasing a deep sigh, Negan relented. He shoved Lucille into the awaiting arms of his second in command and picked up the child with an ease of someone who has done it many times before. His little head tucked into the crook of his neck, his fluffy brown hair tickling Negan’s nose.

“How about we go find your mother huh.” The toddler nodded. Just as Negan took a step forward, already planning a very angry speech to the boy’s mom, a woman ripped out of the building and his breath caught in his throat.

Her eyes were wide with panic but that wasn’t what caught his attention. She was gorgeous, all thick curves and fat like a Greek goddess. She blazed with anxiety and rage, poised for a fight against anyone that might have taken her child. “Tomas!” The child’s head shot back, clipping Negan’s chin as he did.

“Mama!” She spun and locked eyes with the big bad leader of the Saviors and shamefully, he felt his knees buckle. Tomas squirmed in his hold, eager to reach for his mother but Negan was frozen in place. Two other children trailed behind her like ducklings, a pair of twin girls that looked to be 8 or 9 years old. 

As she drew closer, he could see the details of her face, the scars and blemishes but more importantly, the huge dark circles that marred her otherwise perfect visage. She stopped a yard away from him, quickly shoving her girls behind her back. “Thank you for finding Tomas, he has a bad habit of wandering off when I’m not looking.” Her voice was steady, he supposed from years of practice.

“He is a very sweet fucking kid.” One of the girls gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth in a comical expression of shock.

“He said a bad word, mama.” The other whispered just loud enough for Negan to hear. 

“You shouldn’t let your fucking kids run around without supervision, that’s how they get killed.” Her murderous glare set itself on Simon as she took another step forward. Negan could see what she was planning to do, grab Tomas and then go after the tall man. 

But before she could make her move, Negan did. “How about you go and fuck off, I need to have a fucking conversation with this lovely woman and you are really killing the mood with your fuck ugly face.” There was a brief moment of tense silence before Simon thrust Lucille into his free arm and turned with a huff to walk away, muttering under his breath.

The woman breathed a sigh of relief, her walls crumbling slightly but they were quickly built back up. “Could I please have my son now?” Tomas was lifted from his arms but Negan realised he missed the weight of the toddler against his chest. He suddenly felt a hell of a lot colder than he did before.

The boy gave out a great big sigh as he settled into his mother’s bust, utterly exhausted from his escape attempt. Two little heads poked out from behind her legs, studying the man that had been holding their brother. “Well who are these two pretty girls?” Shyly, they clung to their mom’s jeans, not answering him.

“Isabella and Lucia.” She responded for them.

“Two fucking gorgeous names for two gorgeous girls.” They smiled bashfully but didn’t try to hide again, he took that as a win. “And which one of you are going to tell me your mama’s name? I bet her name is just as beautiful as her.” He raised his head to look at said woman, expecting her to be as flattered as her daughters but instead he was met with a glare even dirtier than the one she gave Simon.

“Oh now that is a dirty damn look! And I would be lying if I said it didn’t turn me the fuck on.” Her jaw ticked with annoyance but that only made his smile grow wider across his stubbled cheeks. He gave an exaggerated shiver which made the girls giggle. “Wowie your mother is goddamn scary.”

“Yeah! Once she kicked Derek’s dad in his private place because he said something mean to her.” Isabella finally spoke up, her little voice gaining confidence. Lucia nodded along with her sister in agreement, still too shy to say anything yet.

“Well Derek’s dad deserved it for being such an asshole to your lovely mother. Now how about we go have some fucking dinner and keep disguising how amazing she is.” Those seemed to be the magic words because the twins emerged fully from behind said woman’s legs and ran at him. With absolutely no hesitation, Negan dropped Lucille beside him, kicking the bat away so neither of the girls would accidentally hurt themselves. 

Just like their brother, they each took hold of one of his jacket sleeves and yanked. “Can we have spaghetti?” “Do you have ice cream?” “Mama, can we go with him?” “Mama please!” “Mama!” They screamed in quick succession, not giving either adult any time to answer before asking their next question. Negan gave her a victorious look. 

He could tell she wanted to say no but her girls had finally opened up to someone new for the first time since the world ended and, even though she loved them, she could use a break from their clingy behaviour. “Fine but no complaining about an early bedtime tonight. Remember mama has to work early tomorrow.” They exploded into excited shouts and began tugging the older man forward, eager to talk to him.

Negan let them pull him along but he looked back at the woman that had so entirely captured his attention, throwing her a wink. “We’ll stay up as late as you want and don’t worry about your job mama, I’ve got that all covered. You just need to sit back and relax tonight and let me do all the work.”

Her eyes widened and then darkened with a barely hidden lust at the double entendre and he just chuckled deep in his chest. He’d gotten her and maybe, just maybe, a new chance at life with this little family, all because Tomas liked to wander.

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[danielricciardofan101]

PUT ME THROUGH IT

song : suki waterhouse - put me through it

summary : part 2 of good looking.

pairing : daniel ricciardo x driver!oc

warnings : swearing, angsty, implying of cheating, mentions of motorsport accident.

a/n : english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry about any mistakes - this is based around the 2018 season / the season daniel is in renault and just left redbull.

part 1 : good looking

he thought he could move on - he thought that monza would finally leave his mind and the ex mclaren driver would no longer occupy his thoughts of when he knew her.

“dan?” a quiet female voice speaks to the male, sounding almost scared as he leaned into his couch in his drivers room, his renault helmet sat on the table and his sweaty curls stuck to his forehead - “daniel?” his name was repeated once again and he finally snapped out of his mind,

“huh? emily?” he looks over at her, her soft expression almost making him feel his heart skip a beat. “you were crying daniel sorry. i don’t like to see you like that, i know monza is hard for you,” she explains in a gentle manner, and it almost threw the australian off,

“did you hear my-“ the male cuts himself off, not wanting to talk about the voice message he just left on another woman’s phone like it was casual.

daniel felt cruel, almost disgusting that claire still clouded his thoughts, that she was the one he thought about before a race and the one he wanted to win for, not emily, who sat besides him for a year now, but he knew that she knew she was a replacement, something to help his heart heal and restore from the damage it dealt with.

“i’m sorry emily, i didn’t know you were looking for me,” he says as he looks down at his hands, glancing at the flower tattoo that was for another woman, a woman who he so dearly missed it made his chest ache.

“i’m here for only you dan.” she spoke softly, placing her hand on his knee and squeezing it reassuringly as he stays silent, the words were kind, but to daniel it only meant that she only had her eyes set on him, her heart only begging for love from him.

“thank you emily. i really appreciate it,” he mutters gently, taking ahold of her hand and for a split second imagining it’s claire’s, but he soon places a kiss upon it and presses it to his forehead as he sighs heavily, closing his eyes as he leaned his elbows on his knees.

winter break, a time an f1 driver waits for all season just to get a bit of fresh air and a day off training. but as daniel stood in front of the door, glancing at the golden metal number that it displayed ‘21’, chuckling to himself at the significance,

he wonders if she looks the same, if her voice sounds the same, if her fashion sense is any different and if she ever abandoned the roses and butterflies she adored so much back in the day.

the male wasn’t here because of an invite, but more due to begging lando for her address for nearly an hour straight, he didn’t know why he was desperate, he just wants to see her, even a small glance at her would work wonders on him. she reminded him of an easier time, of a time where they were younger, rivals on the track but lovers off track.

but he also wonders what went wrong, why did she just ghost him? leave him alone to overthink every bit of their what seemed to be perfect relationship?

a buzz from his phone in his pocket causes him to shake his head and take it out, glancing at a text with almost dread bubbling in his stomach,

emily :)

hey dan - i was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner tonight? x

emily was the perfect woman, she was patient with him, she wasn’t angry when he felt too many emotions and she didn’t judge him. she loves him for who he is and not his achievements, but he knew she was hurting, despite all the love she threw his way he couldn’t give it back - feeling disgusting when he thought about moving on from claire,

claire norris, a woman he wanted to marry, have babies with, have a few dogs and cats with and grow old with, he just wanted her by his side, but she left him all alone. and he didn’t know why.

he knew he should blame her, say it’s her fault they are no longer together and it’s her fault he’s been heartbroken since, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

he knew the crash in monza was a serious one, landing claire in the hospital for at least two weeks and then forcing her to retire. he knew she wants to move on from the world for formula one, and he felt sick to the stomach when he finally knew he was apart of that world.

“daniel?-“ her sweet voice causes his eyes to widen and look up in shock, his deep brown orbs making contact with hers and claire almost felt her heart beat out of her chest, “what are you doing here?..” she asks as she held the door open, looking behind her to make sure her cat wouldn’t run past her legs and down the hall of the apartment floor.

daniel looks at her, and he feels a lump form in his throat and he notices her bleached blonde hair, messily tucked behind her ears, her hair was different, he notices the turtleneck, trench coat, flared jeans and heeled boosts, her fashion sense has changed, he noticed the piercings in her ears, she has changed. she was different, just like he feared.

“claire i-“ he hears his voice crack so he cuts himself off as he holds the wine bottle in his hand - “i came to visit you.” he says in almost a stern voice, causing her eyes to widen slightly, “to visit me?- daniel how did you get my address?” she speaks with raised eyebrows, the male’s shaky hands run through his hair and he sighs slightly.

“i asked lando for it. well more like begged lando for it, and i’m sorry i used your brother to get to you. but you changed your number and want nothing to do with me.” he speaks in a gentle voice, not in a harsh tone like he expected himself to, and he was happy with that.

“i’m sorry daniel i-“ the male cuts her off and shakes his head, “it’s fine. care to join me for a drink?” the male asks, raising the wine bottle and it took a few seconds of silence for the female to sigh and nod, opening the door wider and fully cancelling the plans she had in her mind.

“come in,” she says and the male nods, joining the bleached blonde female in the apartment, admiring her as she takes off her scarf and coat, “are you cold?” she asks as she turns to him, some strands of her hair falling in her face but she quickly tucked them behind her ear,

“huh?- no-“ the male sighs heavily as he finally slips off his jacket, the female smiles slightly, sensing his nerves as she walks down the hall, feeling and hearing his presence behind her.

“you don’t have to be nervous around me ricciardo,” and those words caused him to nearly drop the wine bottle in his hand, his eyes shooting in pure shock as he felt his chest ache, “daniel! jesus you’ve gotten clumsy,” she chuckles out as she catches the wine before it could hit her floor.

“you don’t have to be nervous around me ricciardo,” she teases him as she walks down the track besides him - no a mclaren driver and a redbull driver weren’t suppose to do a track walk without both of their crews but rather with each other - especially if they were rivals. but claire couldn’t help the fact she purely enjoyed daniel’s company,

“i’m not nervous around you norris,” he says as he felt his cheeks heat up, the male rolling his eyes as he spoke as the mclaren driver chuckles her hands joined together behind her back as she walked slightly ahead of him,

her mclaren cap on her head, covering her light brunette hair that was braided in a low braid, her mclaren hoodie that kept her warm from the slight cold air of the afternoon, she would always look beautiful in daniel’s eyes, and he swore to keep her close for the next season, and the season after, and then the seasons afterwards.

“i’m so sorry- i just reminded myself of something. i promise i’m not nervous,” he mutters out as they reach her kitchen, the female placing the wine bottle down on the counter and she turns to him, leaning her back against the counter and she smiles ever so gently, “you don’t have to explain yourself daniel. it’s okay,” she said reassuringly, flashing him a closed eye smile that he missed seeing so dearly.

“i’m also sorry for bothering your brother. and coming here. i know-“ the male gets cut off by claire as she passes him a wine glass, it being half full, “i’m willing to talk about it. but with a bit of alcohol in my system,” she says with a small smile and daniel nods, following her to the living room,

where the pair sits down on the couch, the female placing the bottle of wine on the coffee table and daniel looks around the room, spotting a cat tree and a fluffy black and white cat sleeping on top of it, “you got a cat - you always talked about getting one but you were worried no one would look after it while you were gone for races,” he says with a small smile, claire hums in response, “what’s the name?”

“his name is honey,” she answers his question rather quickly, “honey?” he questions with a raised eyebrow as he looks over at her, and she smiles softly as she nods, “my mum calls him the honey badger,” she says as she feels a slight blush develop in her cheeks, the female looking down at the wine in her glass - “that’s cute,” he says as he felt his heart skip a beat, a smile pulling at his lips.

claire glances over at daniel, admiring his longer curls she’s always adored, and his stubble, causing her to smile gently, “how are you daniel?” she asks softly, causing him to look over at her, the male freezing for a few seconds as their eyes make contact, “i-i’m doing fine. i’m happy,” he says, a lump forming in his throat as he realised he just lied to her, her soft smile causing shivers to run down his back, “how are you claire?”

the female smiles at him, “i’m fin-“ her words get cut off by the door bell, which causes the female sighing softly, “sorry daniel,” she mutters out as she gets up from the couch, placing her wine glass down before she walks down the hall, causing daniel to let go of a heavy breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“sorry my neighbour just popped by.” the female mentions after a few minutes of her talking at the door, the male admiring her living room as he stands up, “mhm. claire?” he asks, placing his wine glass down, “yes daniel?”

“i can’t seem to forget you. i always think of you,” he chuckles at his own words, his words causing claire’s expression to turn into a shocked one, “everyone told me-“ the female cuts herself off as she realises how stupid her excuse was,

“you have someone else now daniel. i don’t know what you want from me.” she says, in an almost bitter tone, cause deep inside she selfishly wanted him to be stuck in the past and still missing her, but she knew that wasn’t the right thing to want at all.

“i just want one more night, one last night with you besides me claire. just so i can finally fucking move on.” he mutters out, standing up and looking at her, causing her eyes to widen, “daniel that’s messed-“ she gets cut off by the male approaching her, and his arms wrapping around her, bringing her to his chest,

“daniel, i can’t do this to you. to her.” she says, pushing him away as she feels tears well up in her eyes, and her eyes glancing over at daniel didn’t help, some tears slipping down her tears, which she quickly wiped,

“don’t be angry at yourself for moving on and growing daniel. you don’t need me anymore.” she says with a small sob, her words causing his heart to skip a beat, almost break into tiny pieces, she was rejecting him? no. she was approving him moving on.

“claire i fucking need-“

“you don’t need me! you have your family! your girlfriend! so many people! you have so many people that love you daniel.” she chokes out, the female letting the tears slip down her cheeks, the female holding back a sob as she looks at him, her heart shattering at his upset expression, his teary glossy eyes and the male almost looking at her in disbelief,

“i don’t need you anymore daniel. please let me go.” she sobs out, wiping her eyes afterwards, swiftly turning her back to him, the female sobbing silently into the palms of her hands as he stands in silence, her words echoing through his mind, his stomach dipping and he felt almost ill.

“you don’t need me?…” he mutters out, a chuckle of disbelief slipping past his lips afterwards, “i thought, you love me? i thought we were…” he mutters out in disbelief as he feels a lump form in his throat,

“we were nothing daniel. just rivals on a track in some fast cars. it’s all meaningless in the end.” she speaks in a bitter tone, causing him to look at her, and his expression softens at her red eyes and nose, her glossy eyes that look at him,

“you’re suppose to look at her like that daniel, not me. you should move on ricciardo.” his surname sounds like venom from her lips, causing him to look away from her, his eyes filling with tears as he looks down at his shaky hand,

“please tell me this is some sick joke.” he mutters out, his tone filled with disbelief,

“i don’t love you daniel. i don’t need you anymore. please move on.” she lies through her teeth, her heart shattering into small pieces as tears slip down his cheeks.

the australian wasn’t a crier, he rarely cries, and claire’s heart broke at the fact she was the one that was causing tears to leave his beautiful brown orbs,

“fucking leave and don’t come to my door again ricciardo,” she says, storming off to her kitchen, where she lets tears slowly slip down her cheeks, wiping them desperately with her sweater sleeve, her heart aching as she hears the front door slam.

and the australian leaves her brighton apartment, with his heart at the door, and her words lingering in his mind.

˖⋆࿐໋₊ ☆

[touyasdoll]

Jealousy

Part Two ➡️ Here

Request: OH THEN what about 1 and 89 Aizawa or Dabi... You chose it really doesn't matters to me I'm a huge simp for both of them :) it's kind of angst sooo this would feed your angst needs too...

1. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

89. “I never thought I’d be the one to hurt you.”

Pairings: Shouta Aizawa/Eraser Head x reader (hero college au), teensy bit of Hitoshi Shinso x reader (more on that later)

Warnings: somewhat NSFW for mature themes/language, implied sex, inappropriate relationship, student/professor relationship

Word count: 2.7k

A/n: Thank you for the request!

———————————

“You’re coming out with us tonight, right, Y/n?” Mina’s voice rang out a little too loud through the quiet library.

“To the bar?” You glanced up at her from your textbook and shrugged, tapping your pencil idly against the table you were both sitting at, “I’m not sure, I gotta study for this exam on Monday. Professor Vlad’s course is kicking my ass.”

“I’ll help you study Sunday night, I swear, just come out tonight! It’ll be so much more fun with you around. I know you’ve been a little down recently, so I just wanna see you have a good time,” she reached her hands out across the table, placing both of hers atop your idle one. “Plus, I know Shinso will be there and the only reason he’s going is because he’s hoping you’ll be there too.”

She winked, a wicked grin on her face as she teased you. Mina was the only one who knew the details of what had happened—well, what was still happening between you and Shinso, and she wasn’t above exploiting that fact to get you to come out and have some fun. It had been a long week after all, so it probably couldn’t hurt to get out and have a couple of drinks.

“Sssh..! Okay, I’ll go,” you laughed quietly as you looked around, seeing the librarian shoot a warning glance in your direction, no doubt as a result of the volume of Mina’s voice, so you dropped yours to a whisper. “Just keep it down, all right? I don’t need the whole campus knowing about my tentative dick appointment.”

The pair of you giggled, drawing the attention of the librarian once again, who cleared her throat in a rather exaggerated manner while seemingly trying to bore a hole into Mina’s skull.

“Welp, that’s my cue,” she raised her eyebrows expressively as she stood, gathering her books and bag. “I gotta head home, but I’ll meet you at your place around 9? We can head over together.”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then,” you smiled and nodded as she waved her goodbye, steering clear of the librarian’s desk as she took her leave.

You sighed and stared back down at your textbook, trying to intake the information your eyes were scrolling over, but desperately unable to focus. It seemed like focusing on anything had been a near impossibility as of late.

Ever since he left, you’d been a bit of a mess, though you tried not to let it show. How would you explain it? It’s not like you could tell them the truth. However, despite your best efforts, most of your circle of friends could tell that something was off. If only they knew.

“Shinso, huh?” The familiarly deep voice seemed to linger in your ears, sending a panging sensation straight through to your chest, threatening to shatter the fragile shards of your heart that you were just piecing back together.

You whipped around in your seat, eyes glaring at the raven-haired man who stood behind you. His hands were sunken into his pockets as he stared down at you, expressionless as ever.

“Seriously?” Shaking your head, you turned back around and snapped your book closed, tossing everything into your bag as quickly as you could.

You didn’t know exactly how you would feel when you saw him next, but now you had your answer. You were angry. No, not just angry, livid.

“Y/n—,” he started to speak, but you weren’t about to let him explain a thing.

“No. Don’t you dare. I have nothing to say to you, Professor.” Venom dripped off of your tongue as you moved past him, walking as fast as you could toward the back exit.

He followed closely behind, glancing around to check if the coast was clear before reaching his hand out to grab your wrist as he followed you out the door.

“Y/n, don’t do this. I just want to talk,” he dropped your wrist and moved to stand in front of you, stuffing his hands back in his pockets.

“Now you want to talk? Funny, I don’t recall you giving me that option. Why should I even hear what you have to say?” You shifted your weight to your hip, crossing your arms defiantly as you stared him down.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” His eyes were soft as they found yours, a sense of longing and regret evident behind them.

The words threatened to knock the breath from your lungs, but you didn’t falter in your stance.

“I don’t care,” you lied through your teeth, trying to sound sincere. “You walked away. You don’t have the right.”

“I know,” he took a careful step forward, inching his way closer to you. “I know that I don’t, but I had to try.”

“To what? Explain yourself? You said enough; I heard you loud and clear,” you took a decisive step back, your brows knitting together in frustration as indignation bubbled in your chest. “Or to check up on me? See if I’m really miserable without you? Obviously, you heard enough to know that I’m not exactly crying myself to sleep every night.”

His mouth twinged at your abrasive words, because it hurt to hear them. It hurt for him to think of you alone, but it hurt him a hell of a lot more to think of you lying next to someone else. Despite his best intentions for this conversation, that hurt presented itself as anger.

“Ah, your ‘dick appointment’, right?” It was his turn to lace his words with venom as he narrowed gaze at you.

Your mouth fell open momentarily, dumbstruck by his sudden hostility. The two of you had gotten into minor spats before, but it had never turned mean. Even when he had ended things and you had tried to get under his skin, he never reciprocated that energy, so his change in tone was surprising, to say the least.

“Why in the fuck do you care? You told me yourself that I should be with someone my own age, didn’t you?”

“So you go for Shinso?” His eyes were fixed squarely on you as his face contorted into a scowl. “Why? To hurt me?”

Your blood was near boiling at this point. A haughty scoff escaped your throat as you threw your hands up in exasperation before folding them over your chest again, stalking towards him as you spoke.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You,” you reached out, prodding his chest with your finger as you glowered up at him. “You left. You don’t get a say in who I do and don’t fuck. So you can cut it with the self-righteous bullshit.”

“So I’m right, then? I didn’t take you for the type to use someone else to your own ends, but I guess I’ve been wrong before.”

The monotone quality had returned to his voice and somehow that only enraged you further. You pressed the pads of the fingers on your left hand to your forehead, turning away from him as you closed your eyes, positive that you would actually be seeing red when you opened them again.

A pregnant pause passed through the tense air that surrounded you. His eyes never wavered from your frame as he watched you try to regain your composure. He watched as you raked your fingers through your hair and trailed them down your face, exhaling the slow, deep breaths that you had to coax into your lungs.

He didn’t know what he was doing anymore. He had come here to try and win you back, not to upset you again, but he had never expected to hear that you’d moved on, because he knew that he certainly hadn’t. And to hear that you were with his former protégé? Someone who he regularly interacted with? That was actively killing him inside.

Maybe that’s what he deserved. After the way he had left things. He never meant for it to go as far as it did with you. None of this was ever supposed to happen; he knew better. You both knew better, but it happened anyway. If only he had walked away from you when you had first met, if only he could have found the strength to do it before he had pulled you into this mess.

He hung his head, eyes closed as the memories of your first meeting washed over him like a warm, summer rain.

You were so cute in your sundress, your cheeks flushing red as you frantically apologized for bumping into him in the narrow aisle of the book store. Still looking adorably flustered even when he assured you that it was his fault and that he was the one who should be apologizing.

He wasn’t sorry though. He had backed into you by accident, but he was immediately drawn to you when he saw your pretty face. He didn’t know how to describe the feeling, because he didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he didn’t want to ever leave that aisle. It felt so safe there, in that moment, so innocent. Just the two of you, in your own little world, no real life problems to complicate things yet.

He was never one for small talk, but he tried, just for you. For the sake of keeping that moment alive. The way that you fidgeted with the book in your hand when you asked him to grab a cup of coffee didn’t go unoticed by him and his heart leapt when he thought that maybe he could prolong that moment further. That maybe you were feeling the same strange feeling he was.

Maybe if he had asked what you did for a living sooner. Before you had both discussed your favorite authors, your hobbies, your love for the couple of cats you had back home. Maybe then he wouldn’t have already felt too attached when you said you had just transferred to the university that he taught at.

The disappointment on your face at the realization had been evident. Perhaps that’s why he offered to walk you home. It wasn’t far and it was getting late. He was a pro hero and a gentleman. That’s what he told himself the reason for his offer was anyway. He would see you home safely and then be on his way.

He didn’t expect you to invite him in so politely or to share a bottle of wine with you when he ended up on your couch, a clear sign of his inability to say ‘no’ to you. But how could he? You were so kind, intelligent, beautiful; the list could go on.

How could he say no when you leaned toward him, your gaze cast on his lips before you looked up to gauge his reaction, seemingly desperate for his mouth to crash into yours?

That’s when he knew he was too far gone. That you had him; that he was completely yours. He still tried though. To tell you that you shouldn’t be doing this, that it was wrong. That the both of you should stop and forget that this had ever happened, as if he could forget how you taste—as if he wanted to.

It only made you that much more alluring when you straddled his lap and told him that you didn’t care; that you wanted him despite everything.

“I don’t know when you became so self-centered, but I can assure you that I’m not using Hitoshi,” he blinked and looked at you as your words brought him back to reality. “Not that I owe you a fucking explanation, but he pursued me. He’s been blatantly flirting with me since you introduced us. I thought you never mentioned it, because you trusted me, but obviously you just never saw him as a threat. So, what? Now that you’ve tossed me aside, you’re jealous that somebody else wants to play with me?”

“Of course I trusted you. I had to. There was a lot more at stake for us,” the volume of his voice dropped noticeably as took notice of two students crossing the empty parking lot behind the library’s rear entrance. “But yes, believe it or not, it hurts me to know that somebody else has taken my place in your bed.”

“Oh, it hurts you to know that I’m fucking someone else?” Thankfully, the two students were well out of earshot, because you couldn’t contain the volume at which you were spewing your words, hoping each one would cut into him like a fresh dagger. “Well, I guess it’s just an added bonus that that someone else is Toshi.”

You couldn’t help but to feel a spark of satisfaction when you noticed the way he cringed at usage of your new lover’s nickname. It spurred you onward, encouraging you to want to hurt him like he hurt you. As fucked up as it felt, and as much as you still loved him, you just wanted him to know what it felt like for you when he told you that it was over.

“Does it drive you crazy?” You deliberately closed the distance between you, moving slowly as you brought your body within a proximity that was inappropriate between a student and professor. “Knowing you’re the reason that now he’s the only one who gets to bend me over the kitchen counter and fuck me?”

His expression was stoic, but his eyes shone with anger. It wasn’t enough for you; you wanted a reaction. You dared to get even closer, your face hovering just inches from his as you idly tugged at the scarf around his neck.

“I should be thanking you, I guess. Not just for introducing us, but for doing such a good job of showing him how to use this thing,” you tugged just a bit harder as you boldly stared up into his eyes. “You know how much I love being tied up.”

That did it. The expression that erupted across his face could only be described as pure, jealous rage. But it was only visible to you for a fleeting moment.

One large hand pushed into your hair swiftly, gripping the back of your head as he pulled you close enough to close the distance between your lips as his other hand rested at the small of your back.

Your hand instinctively tightened around his scarf, trying in desperation to pull him even closer to you, as if you were actually trying to become one with him. He walked you backwards a few steps, pinning you to the nearby wall as both of his hands moved to your hips, holding them firmly against his own. The anger you were both holding onto melted into unadulterated passion as you traded kisses, tongues lashing at once another as your hands found their way up his chest and behind this neck, tangling into the hair that hung at his nape.

“Sho,” you mewled breathlessly against his lips. “I can’t do this again. Please don’t do this to me if I have to let you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he pulled back to cup your face carefully in his hand, smiling softly as you leaned into his touch. “I never thought that I would be the one to hurt you. I never wanted to be. I thought that I was protecting you by walking away from this, but I can’t function without you, baby. It might be selfish on my part, but I’m willing to risk anything, if it means that I can have you.”

“Of course you can have me. I love you, Sho. I’m all yours,” you smiled softly, pushing your fingers further into his hair as you pulled him down into another passionate kiss.

You both stood there, joined in shared bliss as you whispered weeks worth of missed sweet nothings and adorations into each other’s ears, completely unaware of the violet set of eyes that went wide at the sight of you in such a compromising position with his former mentor.

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

Part Two ➡️ Here

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

Goner

[Gif credited to original poster, @zombiepenguin334​ , it just shows the dominance Dean would have in the bedroom.]

Warnings: Fluff, Pranks (including fake damage to a certain 67 Chevy Impala), some attempt at crack or comedy, language, kind of/sort of smut (Oral, orgasm denial, plus a daddy kink), rest is implied smut.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Sam pranks Dean, but Dean thinks the reader did it. But something tells Dean, she needs to be punished for her actions.

Word Count: 1,761

Mobile Masterlist

A/N: I started out smutty but then lost my smuttiness, don’t think I have it in me to make it explicitly smutty. Hopefully it was good enough.

a/n #2: All I can say is, think of the Simpson’s “I’m in Danger” meme it’ll be italics.

a/n #3: Named it after a song, lyrics are at the end. It’s just a few lines, I swear.

For @supernatural-jackles​ Bi-Weekly Writing Challenge

Prompts: “I’m laughing because you’re angry. I swear I didn’t do it!”, such a needy little thing, aren’t ya?, “I bet the neighbors know my name.”

~

“Perfect.” Sam mutters, applying another sticker on his brothers Impala.

To be fair, Dean started it with dying Sam’s hair neon pink by adding the die to his shampoo. Poor Sam had to go to a salon to remove it by dying his hair back to a reasonable color close to his original hair color. Now Sam has resorted to buying stickers, that you can easily remove, to make it look like his car was shot at and scratched. And it looked rather convincing.

Dean was going to be pissed. And pissed might be an understatement.

“Hey Sam,” Y/N says, entering the garage where Sam was adding flare by grabbing a knife and gun from the trunk and heading towards the unsuspecting Y/N. “Something just pinged, it sounds like the darkness but I’m not one hundred on – why are you handing me these?” she asks, as Sam hands her the items and runs.

“Sam!” she calls out after him but continues into the garage to investigate what the younger Winchester was up to. And sees the devastation done to Dean’s car.

“Sam,” she could hear Dean enter the garage.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” she mutters under her breath, as she scrambles to get rid of the knife and gun.

But when she turned and she sees the older Winchester enter, but hasn’t seen the catastrophe. Not until he’s right at his car.

“What the fuck?” she heard him say. “SAM!” He shouts. Tearing his throat up.

He turns and sees her holding a knife and gun, completely ignoring her shocked expression which, for some reason, turned into fearful laughter.

“I know what you’re thinking, but Dean, trust me, I didn’t do it.” she says, heart pounding in her chest.

“Why the, what the, you did this!?” he stammers. Veins bulge out of his head, clearly angry. She laughs even more.

“This isn’t funny, look at my car!” he yells.

“I know, I’m sorry, it wasn’t me I swear!” she laughs, sounding a lot like she’s crying.

“Quit laughing!” he shouts.

“I’m laughing because you are angry, I swear I didn’t do it!” she shouts. “Oh god, I’m in danger!” she adds, laughing harder.

Her laughter, caused tears streaming down her cheeks, her cheeks burned as the blood flow continued to rise, even her ears felt warm.

Confused he could just look at her, then back at the car. Then back at her.

Since Y/N joined the Winchester’s, it was at first just a protection duty. A horde of werewolves from a pack Y/N’s family nearly wiped out was out for revenge. So, the boys protected her, even hunted down a good number of the members of the pack. Even the wolves, and the brothers learned that though her family continued to hunt, she doesn’t.

She went to school, became a freelancing graphic designer and writer. She had a life, a normal apple pie life.

Then she heard her parents died on a hunt, a witch hunt, when an unusual spell took hold of her dad, taking him out slow and painful, her mom was poisoned by the witch.

She never believed in revenge, but when she learned of this, the thought of following her parents lingered. Then the brothers came. Rescued her, the werewolves and her came to a truce, and an agreement. No hunting humans, or her, they’ll live all happily ever after. Sam even recommended them Garth, and added reinforcement, called Garth up to be on the look out to help them out.

Ever since that odd encounter, the brothers and Y/N have been really close. Especially with Dean. She was exactly like him. More ways than some. She keeps him in check. And he’s her rock.

But something about the way she’s looking, the way she’s dressed, is effecting him.

Her short ripped jean shorts, showing her perfectly toned legs and thighs, a black fitted t-shirt sporting YouTube entertainment. Her favorite gaming channel being Achievement hunter. And wearing his many flannels. His black and white flannel. He remembered when he knew he lost it to her.

After a hunt, the boys were gone a week longer than planned, she was scared out of her wits about them. He found her sleeping in his bed with his flannel on. He didn’t fight it, argue it, nothing. Not when he saw the fresh wetness on her cheeks when he returned. He slept with her close to him, even he needed to be reminded she was there.

“You know,” Dean’s voice was low, a different kind of low. It made Y/N stop laughing dead in her tracks. “That wasn’t cool, maybe you need to be punished, little girl.” He says.

“Huh?” she breathes. Out of breath from laughing.

“Does, a certain, naughty little girl need a, hard, and heavy, pounding.” He continues.

Her pussy clenches around nothing at his words. Causing a breathy moan to escape.

“Oh fucking destroy me daddy.” She mutters.

“Car. Now.” He demanded.

She walks over to the front of the impala, trips over her feet a bit before making it to the car.

“As punishment, you don’t get to touch any of this.” He says, grabbing his dick, rubbing it even through the rough denim material. Causing her to whine.

“Lean back.” He demands.

Her ass on the hood, she sets her hands back to keep her upright as she leaned back further away from Dean. But Dean kept close to her.

He lightly brushes her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She squirms at his touch.

He slowly leans it, painfully slow. She can feel his hot breath on her lips. And his lips just barely touch when she found herself leaning in, needy. He places a gentle hand on her shoulder stopping her.

“Nah, uh, uh.” He says playfully. “Little girl’s being punished, remember.”

“But,” she says.

“You’ll get some, in time.” He says. His hands roam her body, slipping off the flannel. He tosses it aimlessly aside.

His hands go under her shirt. She can feel his warm, gentle touch on her stomach and sides as he guides the shirt up and over her head, and off her arms.

He lets in a deep breath, but comes out a growl when he exhales.

“Bedroom, now.” He growls.

Without hesitation she leads the way to Dean’s bedroom. Dean slams the door shut.

“Bed.” He orders. She lays her back on the bed, crawling back towards the head of the bed where her back is on the headboard.

His lips didn’t hesitate to make their way to hers in a needy kiss. His tongue teasing it’s way in, when her lips part enough his tongue claims hers, lips not leaving as their love is being poured ounce by ounce in the kiss.

His hands take hers, placing them over her head. He pulls away from the kiss.

“Keep them there.” He pants.

“Dean,” she whines. Squirming under him.

He works his belt off of his jeans, tying them around her wrists in away so he could have it tied above her head, unable to touch him.

His lips are back on hers in an instant, as he undresses her.

“So, fucking gorgeous.” He says in the kiss. She moans into his mouth.

He smirks. “Someone likes being praised.” He says. Making her smile as he pulls out of the kiss, pulling her shorts and panties away in one swoop.

His mouth is watering at the sight of her, and wastes no time. One flick of his tongue at her aching core, a strangled moan escapes her throat.

He knows when she’s close when her hips find a rhythm and she tries to get more friction with each thrust. Causing him to stop. This happens a few times.

“Dean, I fucking swear,” she growls, pleasure building in a state she’s never experienced before. “If you don’t fucking fuck me stupid, I’m not baking you anymore of my famous berry pie.” She threatens.

“Damn, such a needy little thing, aren’t ya?” Dean asks, with a smirk.

“I mean it, if you deny me an orgasm I’ll fucking murder you.” She growls.

“Sure you will.” He taunts.

“Watch me.” She adds.

Dean sheds his shirt before he continues his torture.

 Hot and sweaty under the sheets, they pant, still catching their breath after what seems like a pornographic marathon. But really it was just really intense orgasm after orgasm.

“Okay, who knew orgasm denial would grant me one killer orgasm.” She says. “I mean, I blacked out for a second there, it was that good.” She comments.

“Glad I was able to make you feel good.” Dean says, keeping his arm around her, holding her close. Feeling her place a gentle kiss on his chest.

The pair hear a groan out in the hall. Causing them to laugh.

“Something tells me he knows we did some things.” Dean says.

“Well yeah Dean, I bet the neighbors know my name now.” She says grinning. Making Dean laugh.

“Sweetheart, I bet everyone in China knows your name now.” He adds. Earning a cackle laugh in agreement.

After a longing pause, she sighs.

“Still with me sweetheart?” he asks.

“We did a thing, didn’t we? We’re now a thing?” she asked.

“I’m sure we can stop with the sneaking around, hiding and just admit that we have a thing for each other.” He says.

“Yeah, I was starting to wonder if we’d ever fess up?” she says.

“I’m sure we would have.” He said. “It’d either me doing something stupid, or us doing this. It would have been one of two ways.” He adds.

“Yep.” She says.

A yawn escaping her. “What do you wanna do tomorrow?” she slurs, as sleep is coming knocking.

“How about I take you out to dinner? And even another one of these nights just not so…”

“Pornographic.” She adds. Earning a chuckle from Dean.

“Yeah, that.” He says.

He places a loving kiss on her forehead, as he lets sleep take him in.

“Goodnight sweetheart.” He says.

“G’night Dean,” she says, yawning again. “Love you.” She adds.

He smiles, with a light chuckle so as to not jostle her. “Love you to baby.” He whispers.

As he brings her in tighter, she even helps by snuggling in more into his chest, as sleep takes them in.

 I can’t stop now, there’s no way out, I’m a goner. I’m falling fast, I’m gonna crash, I’m a goner. I am captivated by your treasure, and it’ll be this way now, forever. I’m a goner.

~

Dean tag list:

@pandazombie69​

@luci-in-trenchcoats​

@supernatural-jackles​

@becs-bunker​

@mlovesstories​

@winchesters-favorite-girl​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 09/30/2020

[zer0pm]

No Name (8/?)

A/N: This is a V x Fem!Reader based on an Imagine that I have written. It covers the entirety of a romance with the charming tattooed gentleman from his conception to the end, wherever that is. If you would like to follow this story from the beginning you can click to my Ao3 page linked as “V” on this blog’s header description and it’ll take you straight to my work :) Please enjoy.

Synopsis: Dante and you have a brief heart-to-heart as you journey within the Qliphoth. Your past comes back to haunt you and after swearing off devil hunting for good, you pick up your weapon once again against the demon king.

Dante: “Morrison said you and V met before. Where did you find that guy? On the street?”

You: “Yep. Clothed him, fed him, put a roof over his head for the night. He was an excellent house guest.”

Dante: “Now’s not the time for jokes, Neff.”

You: “I wasn’t joking, Dante. What does it matter to you, anyway?”

Somehow Lady and Trish managed to get ahead, leaving you to make the journey to the target with Dante alone. And truthfully, you were not enjoying it one bit. It seemed the man was bent on getting under your skin at every waking moment whether you two were just walking around the hellish maze that is the demon tree or fighting ravenous hordes of relentless monsters simply by talking.

Dante: “It doesn’t. I’m just saying that you need to be careful around him.”

You: “I don’t like what you’re implying. It’s almost like you suspect there’s something between me and V.”

Dante: “Ha. It doesn’t take a genius to know he steals glances at you. It’s a guy thing and you’re...”

You glance over at him, waiting for his answer in challenge with a hand on your hip. The man was facing you, the way you were looking at him was making him try to come up with words that wouldn’t provoke you.

You: “I’m?”

He throws both of his hands up in defeat before cocking them on his hips, he turns his head away from you now in some random direction.

Dante: “You. You’re you. That’s it.”

Shaking your head, you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. He was tiptoeing, a terrible habit of his when he loathes to admit something. The way he was speaking, it was almost like he was jealous. Truthfully, you felt that he had no right to be.

You: “Look, Dante. V and I just met the other day. Even if there was something...”

With a finger, you poke at his chest once for emphasis before walking past him in a huff.

You: “Well, that’s just none of your damn business. Isn’t it?”

Intent on leaving it at that, you continue walking forward towards the area where the other girls were fighting. Dante stood in place for a moment before calling back to you.

Dante: “You know, we never spoke about it. That day you left.”

Flashes of the moment you walked through the doors of Devil May Cry for what you thought was the last time all those years ago began to sting the ends of your eyes. The look on Dante’s face, the angry exchange between you both, how betrayed you felt - all came flooding back. You had to bite your own tongue to will away the tears.

You: “What’s there to talk about? What’s done is done. My sister is dead. End of story.”

Only you truly wished it was. However, the story keeps replaying in your head, like it was nagging for you to finish it. But honestly, you didn’t want to. Afraid of closing that book forever, yet just as afraid of picking it back up again. So you did what you did, you let it be. You had hoped Dante would do the same, the story didn’t really include him anyways, yet the man somehow finds a way to make himself integral in every tale. This you’ve learned.

.

.

.

“You son of a bitch, I told you to wait!”

“We were out of time. Your sister told me-”

“I don’t care what she told you. That wasn’t part of our plan, Dante! You didn’t listen to me!”

“Both of you couldn’t get out of it alive so I had a choice to-”

SLAP!

“That wasn’t your choice to make!”

“Well, I made it anyway! I chose you. No matter how you look at it, it will always be you.”

That moment of anger and bitter pain was the only memory that was vividly fresh in your mind. You dared not think further back than that, to the past that led to you leaving Dante and Devil May Cry and devil hunting behind. That day was the last day that you used your weapon which now hung as a silver piece on your belt. You didn’t think you would be using it again so soon and alongside the man you didn’t want to see again period.

Eventually the two of you reached what appeared to be a double set of doors. In between the cracks, you can barely see a grotesque-looking monster...sitting on a throne? This must be the demon V spoke about and the one that had Dante on edge the moment he heard his name. Vergil.

You: “We’re here. Are you ready?”

You glance over at the legendary devil hunter who usually when it comes to jobs we just waltz right in not giving a crap. Yet right now, right here beside you, he’s still. Like a statue, staring at the doors.

You: “Hey, what’s going on with you?”

Dante: “...I wanna ask you a favor. Sort of.”

You: “Huh?”

Dante: “If we beat Ver... this demon king, you have my permission to kill him.”

You: “Okay... and why does that require your permission?”

Dante: “This way... you and me, we’re even.”

This shocks you into silence. Already your mind was speculating, reeling over about Dante, a man who prides himself on calling all the shots, prides on being a solo player, conceding this one action to you. You wanted to ask him, to elaborate further on what the hell he meant, but the legendary devil hunter was already through the twin doors, squaring his shoulders for the big fight. When you followed behind, you first spotted Lady and Trish rolling along the ground. It looks like they were beaten pretty bad and that alone began to bubble a growing anger inside you. This place was already setting you on edge and the greatest source of that anxiety was sitting before you all.

So this was the “demon king” that had even Dante garner the serious look? By appearance, he, assuming it’s a he, fit the word terrifying by every definition. Dante traipsed across the floor before the demon as if he was performing in a play.

Dante: “Well, well... O king of stench and filth. I’m impressed! Those are two of the most badass women in the world. Well, behind my sweetheart over here.”

He looks at you over his shoulder to wink at you. You had to roll your eyes and will yourself not to like over his words. His infamous monologue was already underway and he didn’t strike nor was he struck first this time. Must be a new record.

Dante: “And I know only one other guy that can defeat ‘em...”

The shift in his voice was evident along with the sudden change of mood in the air. Dante was staring down at the grotesque monster sitting on the throne, the latter of which appeared entirely unamused the entire time. You were almost certain that you were looking at a statue until Dante spoke a single word that made him tilt his head from the palm of his hand.

Dante: “Jackpot.”

Demon King: “Dante...”

It speaks. Prior to reaching at this point, you had your special arm tucked away on your belt, fighting the demons alongside Dante with nothing but a revolver. It wasn’t meant to show off, but to save as much of your energy as possible, not wishing to underestimate this powerful evil. Now that you were there, it was time. You remove the silver cylinder from your belt and lay it horizontally on the palm of your hand. By your will, it begins to glow and in and instant, it expands to a long staff. Across the surface were runic patterns of white and gold atop the silver that emitted a faint glow of energy. To grab a good feel for it once again, you twirled the staff in your hands, each spin releasing a burst of light.

The demon king moved again, this time facing you. It was hard to get a read of his expression, but you assumed that he did not like your presence one bit. Afterall, you were the last and he speaks that with venom in every syllable.

Demon King: “Nephilim.”

The last of a kind that the demons have feared and hated the most.

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from @overneath-misery and anon. Couldn’t forget about our cheeky Captain, now could I?

Words: 1591 Warnings: swearing, implied smut

The ding of your alarm clock ripped you from your peaceful and anticipating thoughts as you hummed cheerful Christmas carols, hanging the last colourful ornaments on your Christmas tree. It took up most of the space in your tiny living room, shining out like an actual star. Candy canes, baubles, stars and sleighs, it all complimented the evergreen branches like sparkling jewellery.

Nodding, you mutely praised yourself for your good work and headed to the kitchen to get those cookies out of the oven. You loved making them, the sweet dough inviting you to nibble on it before finishing the job but even more importantly, they were his favourite.

It was rather complicated to spend relaxed days with Captain Boomerang, knowing he was a wanted criminal on the run. You had hoped that after making your relationship official it would become a little easier but... well, far from it.

Spending Christmas together was, along with your birthday, one of the few special days of the year where he always came home, bringing you rare presents (which he probably stole but hey, you didn’t complain), drinking eggnog with you, ravishing the cookies you baked, ravishing you, preferably under the Christmas tree…

Usually, he showed up on the day before the day of Christmas Eve already, helping you pick a tree and carrying it up to your small apartment. After the whole fucked up Task Force X story and a strict enhancement of the police force in Gotham, however, it had gotten a lot harder for him to hide and escape their clutches, especially since Amanda Waller spared neither trouble nor expense to get what she wanted.

So your neighbour had helped this year, smiling broadly when he took the heavy tree off the roof of your car and gladly ascended the staircase with it. He was a nice guy, your neighbour—charming, sweet... just like his adorable boyfriend.

Boomer would arrive soon, of course he would. Until then, you could finish your preparations.

Resuming your humming, you put the cookies on the table to let them cool down for a while and then took care of putting your presents under the tree. Well, the present. There was only one, a neatly wrapped package for Boomerang containing a pair of shiny new boots—his old ones were falling apart already, besides, the pair you had bought for him included barely visible sheaths for small daggers. He’d love them.

Now all there was left to do was putting sprinkles, chocolate cream and icing on your cookies and you were ready for your cheeky boyfriend to arrive.

You flinched when you woke up, stirring on your cosy couch with a warm blanket draped over your legs. The TV was on, showing some cheesy Christmas movie and sending soft voices of actors and actresses through your living room. When had you fallen asleep? You remembered finishing the cookies, making yourself a cup of tea, sitting down in the living room… oh.

Frowning, you checked your watch. It was almost midnight. The yellow lights of your Christmas tree dimly lit the room when you stood to look around you but no—Boomerang still hadn’t shown up. Where was he? What if he had gotten caught on his way to you? What if any moment now, the police would knock on your door and take you in for questioning? What if you had to spend Christmas behind metal bars and what if something had happened to him?

Worried, you bit your lower lip and reached for your phone on the coffee table, dialling his number. You usually relinquished calling each other, for you could never know when he was in the middle of robbing another bank. This was an exception though. He wouldn’t have forgotten it was Christmas Eve, right? You didn’t want to spend this evening alone, let alone Christmas morning. He was all you had left.

Nothing! Boomerang didn’t pick up the phone but when you checked his WhatsApp, you noticed he had been online only minutes ago. What the fuck?!

He’s safe, though. Calm down. He must be alright. He’ll be here soon.

So you kept waiting, sitting back on the couch and watching whatever movie the TV offered to distract you from your impatience. Around two am in the morning, however, you cursed.

What was he thinking? Had he in fact forgotten? It couldn’t be. The last time you had seen him was three months ago. Three months since you’d last had sex, since you’d last kissed him, since you’d last cuddled with him. He couldn’t just leave you. Not tonight.

You sucked in a swell of air when you heard a soft but dominant knocking on the door. Rushing into the hallway to let him in, you briefly peeked through the spyhole. He looked as handsome and reckless as ever, his dark beard and hair framing the features of his face and complimenting his blue eyes. His clothes were dirty—you would have to wash them for him, since he never managed to properly take care of that on his own and the exhausted expression on him almost had you forget how mad you were.

Sighing bravely, you opened the door.

“Merry Christmas, luv.” He smiled when he entered your apartment and kicked off his boots, only to wrap his arms around you and swirl you through the air before kissing you passionately. Your body instantly reacted to him, your tongue willing fighting his. His hot breath against you and his warm hands on your waist turned you to jelly in his tender grip, his gentle yet dominant touches sending suspicious signals right between your legs, creating an arousing tingling.

Still, you pushed him away from you when you came back to your senses.

“Well, merry Christmas to you too, George.” You only ever called him that when he fucked up. That way, he instantly knew there was something he needed to apologise for—and so it was this time.

“Look, luv, I’m sorry, alright? I was outtah town, I had tah get me arse away from some cops. Almost got me this time, I got lucky.”

“You should have texted me! I’ve been waiting for hours! You know I’d be alone with-without you, you know I—“ Your voice broke along with hot tears worsening your sight.

Boomer immediately pulled you flush against him, resting his chin on top of your head to comfort you. “I know, luv, I know. I’m sorry.”

For a moment, you simply stood there in the dark hallway, hugging each other until you were able to forgive him. He was here, right? You were still angry with him but he was here.

“Do you… do you want some cookies? I made your favourite.” You said, sniffing in the process.

“Yah know the answer to that, luv. The tree looks amazin’, by the way.” Boomer replied, glancing into the living room. “Who helped settin’ it up fah yah? I mean, don’t get me wrong, luv but yah live on the third floor.”

Smirking, you disappeared in the kitchen only to return with a plate full of Christmas cookies. “What, you don’t believe I managed all by myself? Tsk.”

“C’mon, who helped yah?”

“That sweet guy next door?”

The Captain frowned, alarmed by your choice of words. “What sweet guy?”

“Oh you know, the one who lives right down the hallway? I offered him cookies as payment but he said he’d be happy buying me a coffee one day instead.”

You were being mean. You knew Boomer was awfully jealous when it came to you even talking to other men in his absence—it wasn’t like he didn’t trust you but to be fair, he had a quite possessive nature. For all that waiting on your behalf, however, you’d leave him to stew for a while longer. He’d find out in time said sweet neighbour was gay.

“That fuckah don’t know yuh’re mine, huh?” He growled wrathfully, clenching his fists when he did. The cookies you had brought him were forgotten.

“Woah! Boomer, I’m not yours. I’m your girlfriend, not your property. And well, no, of course he doesn’t, you’re a criminal. What was I supposed to do anyway? You didn’t show up! You didn’t even send me a message, I was worried you got hurt or caught or something!”

“Yah know me job is hardly predictable, couldn’t help it.” He grumbled, running his fingers through his beard.

“Well, in any case you should thank him for helping me because otherwise, we’d have no Christmas tree this year. Now eat your bloody cookies so I can go to sleep.”

Boomerang let out an audible sigh. He massaged the bridge of his nose before taking the plate from your hands and setting it on the coffee table. When he sneaked his arms around your middle and pulled you against him, your heart skipped a beat.

“It’s late, I’m sorry. Forget about the cookies, I’d much rather eat you.” He allowed no contradiction when he hoisted you up and threw you over his shoulder, eliciting an excited scream from you. Chuckling darkly, he carried you into the bedroom, greedily unwrapping you like you were his Christmas present. Well, perhaps you were. He did seem tired as well but when he looked you in the eye, softly and lovingly, you realised that the wait had been worth it.

Boomerang had come home—not to your apartment but to you. It was the best gift he could possibly have made you this year.