#like. that was his home that he built with his own hands. and you've. turned it into a shitty modern home with no soul.

[nexus-nebulae]

it's kinda funny how similar to my grandpa i am considering my birthday was three days after his

[simonbrain]

part two to this

-

you awaken the next morning to the smell of something delicious, something familiar. like what your mother makes every morning.

you suddenly jolt up to find the bed empty, the thought of your family sending a wave of panic down your spine as you hastily pull the thick furs off of you and make a break for the front door, almost forgetting about the man who carried you home with him last night.

"oi, where are you off to?"

the deep voice from behind you causes you to yelp in surprise, and the arsehole has the audacity to chuckle.

you could only turn around and stare at him, unsure if you should run. he looks like he could snatch you up in a few strides, even if he gave you a head start. you glance back at the front door and remember just how long it took to come back here; there's no way you'll make it back home without getting lost.

"...my village. i— i need to go see my family, please." your voice breaks as you think about your loved ones, and tears begin to well up in your eyes. you try to blink them away, and the blank look on his face only makes you feel more helpless. he doesn't look bothered in the slightest.

"your village went up in flames—nothing but ashes now. no use going back." he says it so bluntly, moving past you to block your only exit and disregarding the dejected look on your face. you shouldn't be so ungrateful; he saved you from those beasts, didn't he? a poor thing like you would have been torn to shreds by them if they had found you crouched behind that tree. sweet little lamb wouldn't have been shown half the mercy simon showed you.

even if you did manage to escape them, what would be the point of walking around the endless forest in hopes of finding help? you wouldn't have made it. no, the pretty thing looking up at him with glossy eyes would have tripped over her own two feet.

"but— but i—"

your bottom lip quivers when he steps forward, crowding your personal space. he stares you down so intensely that you lose the ability to speak. go on, love, his eyes say. try me.

he huffs softly when you sniffle and look away. sensitive thing you are.

your stomach growls quietly, and that's simon's cue to place a rough hand on the nape of your neck so that he can guide you to the table.

he watches with quiet satisfaction as you eat breakfast, an even quieter interest bubbling in his stomach as he observes you. the sullen expression on your face almost makes him feel bad, but you'll just need to understand that this is for your own good.

as days pass, you find yourself growing more comfortable in your new home. simon (you've come to learn his name) is quite odd. he doesn't reveal much about himself, but he does listen when you ramble about your family, and he feeds you the most delicious things. it's quite a lot to eat, but you shouldn't be surprised; he's built like a damn bull, so it's no wonder he makes enough food to feed four people.

you try not to stare at his back too much when he's in the kitchen cooking, or at his arms when he's outside chopping up firewood, or at his hands when he absentmindedly places a paw on your leg.

however, simon—the mutt—is shameless. he drinks in the sight of you, with or without your knowledge, eyeing any exposed skin with a hunger he hasn't felt in years. he doesn't push you to do anything; he wasn't raised like that, but at the end of the day, simon is still a man. it's in his nature to go a little dumb in the presence of a sweet girl.

he quenches his thirst with a hand on your thigh during mealtimes. his palm against your back, slowly trailing down to rest on your ass as he teaches you self-defence outside. an arm wrapped tight around you as you both lay down for the night.

still, it's never enough.

then one day, when simon returns home after spending several days out, looking more rugged than usual with torn clothes and dried blood on him, he pulls you in for a hot kiss. he doesn't give you a chance to tear up at finally seeing him after so long or question him about what he did while he was away.

he only takes what's all his.

you let out a squeak, grasping at his hands, desperately trying to keep up with how he devours you on the spot, his greedy tongue licking into your mouth. the tension radiating from him is palpable, his itching fingers trailing down to squeeze at your hips, tugging you closer to him. simon swallows up your little noises before pulling away, humming in satisfaction at the dazed look on your face.

"even taste sweet," he muses quietly to himself, his thumb running over your bottom lip.

"you're injured." you frown, finally finding your voice. your face is still burning, but simon just chuckles softly, interlocking his hand with yours and leading you to the table. the quicker he patches himself up, the quicker he can get back to pulling more of those sweet sounds out of you.

[sanguineterrain]

Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))

i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words

****

"I don't need protection."

The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."

"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."

And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.

It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.

And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.

Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."

Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.

Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.

He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.

"I can't just not publish the story," you say.

"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."

"I can't afford a bodyguard."

"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."

You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."

You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.

You glare. "Get off of my car."

"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."

"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."

"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."

"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"

"That's why I'd be there."

"I was talking about you, Hood."

"Funny."

"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"

Hood looks you over.

"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."

Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.

It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.

"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.

You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.

"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."

He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."

You close your door. "You're on."

****

As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.

You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.

Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.

You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.

"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.

You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.

Bang!

You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.

"You okay?"

You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.

"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.

"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"

Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.

Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.

"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.

"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.

"I ain't telling ya shit!"

"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.

The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.

"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."

Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.

You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.

Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.

Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.

"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.

"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."

You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.

"You—how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"

"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.

"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hood looks at you.

"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."

Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.

The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.

You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.

"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."

A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.

"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."

You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"

You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.

"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"

You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.

"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."

You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.

"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."

"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."

"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."

"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."

You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.

You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."

He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."

"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."

Hood tilts his head. "Well..."

"Well, what?"

He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.

"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."

"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.

"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"

You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."

"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."

Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.

"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.

You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"

Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.

"Hood?"

You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.

Nope. Still a man.

"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."

"Stay... in your apartment?"

"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."

"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.

"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."

He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.

"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."

He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.

"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."

You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."

He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."

You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."

"You mean Batman?"

Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."

"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."

"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."

You think. Is it something you want?

Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.

"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."

He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.

"You do?" he asks.

"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."

"At any cost," he says.

That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.

"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."

"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"

"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.

Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.

You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.

(pt 2)

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Orc!Nanami x Human!reader

Tall fem reader btw. Smut. Tall girls deserve to be size kinked too. Pssspssspsss come get yalls juice.

Orc!Nanami who works as a liaison between the humans and orcs and therefore is sat in an office most days in a sharp specifically tailored three piece suit that hugs his body in all the right places.

Orc!Nanami who is so large his pants are tight around his thighs, stretching over his ass in the perfect spheres.

Orc!Nanami who can't help but notice the way you keep eyeing him in his tight shirts. Buttons struggling to hold it together for the sake of his dignity

Orc!Nanami who also can't help but notice how tall you are, and how unlike the humans around you, you fill up your skirts and dresses, never wear heels, wear loose fitting blouses that quietly hide your voluptuousness.

Orc!Nanami who thinks you smell exquisite! Like something sweet and spicy and he just really wants to taste...

Orc!Nanami who polishes his tusks every morning hoping that the shiny enamel would attract you like it did so many orc ladies.

Orc!Nanami who licks his lips every time you bend over and he catches a glimpse of the soft breasts swaying in the little v of your neckline. Your scent pervading his senses again.

Orc!Nanami who has to excuse himself from the meeting to rush to the men's room so his already tight pants don't burst.

Orc!Nanami who finds you stranded at the office one night after having worked late and offers to take you home as any good and respectable orc does.

Orc!Nanami who really doesn't expect you to pull him inside your flat telling him, "The forecast said it would rain. I insist you spend the night Nanami-san!"

Orc!Nanami who doesn't know you've seen him staring at you and would purposely do things to try and entice him but have him be the perfect gentleman in return to end up forcing your hand like this.

Orc!Nanami who helps you cook despite your protests. "It's fine you're my guest you don't have to—" "I would not bear the dishonour of making a lady I like, suddenly look after an unplanned guest."

Orc!Nanami who blushes, realising what he said when you turn and ask him coyly, "Wait, you like me?"

Orc!Nanami whose hips you pull towards your own and gently grind, making his brain short circuit, "That's lucky, 'cause I like you."

Orc!Nanami who can't believe his luck as he lifts you onto the kitchen countertop, begs you between kisses to be yours and yours only.

Orc!Nanami who is ecstatic when you nod and let's out a sharp hiss when your knee brushes his crotch.

Orc!Nanami who scrambles to remove your clothes. Your blouse, off your skirt, pulled down. Food lying forgotten as he buries his face into the crook of your neck when you tell him you want him to fuck you so good you forget how to walk.

Who lifts you into a princess carry, to your surprise, (makes sure the burners are off) and takes you to the bedroom praying to every god he can think of that you have lube.

Who can't wait himself and lays you down, squirting the pink lube bottle contents over your cunt and preps you for a minute with his thick fingers.

Who groans in arousal hearing the lewd, wet squelching sounds your tight pussy made as it swallowed his fingers.

Who askes you if this was okay for the nth time because, "I'm not built like a human and you're literally tiny."

Whose eyes widen when you push him onto the bed and get on top saying, "I'm going to ride you now and I want you to split me open like a pirate finding a treasure chest, so don't stop me.

Who let's you ride him till you get tired and can't then growls and thrust up into you holding you like a little doll, just made for his pleasure.

Who fucks you so good in every position you can manage till you've cum more times than you can count and all that you can think of is his cock.

Till you babble an incoherent string of I love yous, increasing in pitch as he pounds into you from behind, over and over, cumming in you with a filthy growl.

Who pulls you up against his chest, and despite being a tall woman among humans you feel tiny with him.

Who kisses you with as much tenderness as he can, telling you how good that was. How sweet you were for him. How pretty you are. How much he wants you to be his.

Orc!Nanami who orders food as you silently nap on his broad chest till it arrives.

Orc!Nanami who, holding you in his arms, looks out at the rain pattering on the window and feels at home.

@rodeorun 🫣🫣👀👀👀

TALL GIRLS PLS STEP ON ME

More tall!reader x Nanami

[favefandomimagines]

blue eyes crying in the rain (a.b)

Summary: your marriage with Anthony was a dream; until it all went slightly sour.

AN: I love a good angsty Anthony fic

When you first met Anthony Bridgerton, it was like time stopped. You had heard the rumors that he was not searching for a marriage built of love but a marriage built on duty. But everything changed when Daphne introduced her friend and her brother. It was as if you were the only people in the room.

Everyone else simply did not exist. He was charming, intelligent, he made you feel as if you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

Anthony was enamored with you. You were the perfect woman physically but you were perfect just simply a person. You made him laugh, made him feel seen and loved. It was terrifying to him that one day the same fate that took his father would take you too.

But he could not care any less. The two of you wed at the end of June and everything was purse bliss. Until you returned from your honeymoon. It had not taken much for you to become with child and you were pregnant. Once you became pregnant, Anthony changed. He spent more and more time in his study or with his brothers.

You rarely saw him outside of going to bed and you felt isolated. You were going through this pregnancy alone. Had he regretted the marriage? Were you not desirable anymore now that you were with child? Too many intrusive thoughts clouded your brain and you had no one to talk to. You would rather not alert the rest of the family to the troubles that you and Anthony were facing. So you were handling that alone as well.

It was late one night, way past midnight by the time Anthony got home. Benedict was dragging him across the foyer of your home as you stood on the stairs in your robe.

“Y/N, what are you doing up? You shouldn’t be awake at this hour in your condition.” Benedict commented. “Well, I was waiting for my husband but that seemed futile two hours ago.” You replied. “My apologies, Y/N. I did not mean to keep him out so late.” Benedict replied.

“It was my idea, my darling Y/N. We had some business to attend to.” Anthony slurred. “You have been attending to business quite a bit.” You spoke. Both Bridgerton brothers could see that you were not pleased.

Benedict excused himself, giving you a smile before exiting the home. “Anthony, this has gotten out of hand.” You spoke. “What has?” He questioned. “You are gone all hours of the night, while I’m left alone.” You answered.

“It feels as though I'm facing this pregnancy alone. You're never here!” You added. “I have responsibilities, Y/N. You know that.” Anthony replied. “Responsibilities? Is that what you call it? Neglecting your wife and child?” You rebutted. “I provide for you, don’t I? Is that not enough?” Anthony argued back.

“No, Anthony, it is not! I need you here, with me, not off attending to your clubs and politics!” You yelled. This was the first time you had raised your voice with Anthony. It was a side to you he had never seen before.

"Those clubs and politics secure our future, Y/N. You think I do this for fun?" Anthony said back. “When you are gone every night, yes I think you do it for fun. I think you've forgotten what's truly important. I'm carrying your child!" You said. "And I'm doing everything I can to ensure our child's future!" Anthony yelled back.

"What about our present? What about me? Do I not deserve your time?" You asked him. "I don't have time to argue about this." Anthony said, rather than answering.

He walked around you back up the stairs, walking away from you and the argument. "That's your answer to everything, isn't it? Avoidance!" You called after him. "I can't be with you every moment. You knew this when we married." Your husband said.

“I am aware of that Anthony, but I didn't expect to feel so alone in my own marriage." You replied, following after him.. “You’re being unfair.” Anthony said, stopping to turn to you. "I'm being honest! I need you, Anthony. Our child needs you." You told him, standing face to face with him. “I’m doing the best I can!” Anthony yelled.

There was a rage in his eyes that scared you. This was not the man you had married, this was a completely different person. Where did the love he had for you go? Where had the kind, gentle man go?

“Your best isn’t good enough. Not anymore. Every time I look at you, I see a stranger. Where did the man I married go?” You responded, sadness lacing your voice.

You both fell silent, standing in the hallway. You moved to walk around him back to your bed chambers. “I need some time alone, please.” You said. “Y/N, wait-” Anthony started. “No, Anthony. Just let me be.” You interrupted, this time not returning his gaze.

Anthony watched you walk away and close the door behind you. He cursed himself as he walked to his study. He hadn’t realized just how badly he was hurting you. His pride and ego prevented him from seeing it. He was raised better than how he was behaving and he was hurting his wife.

He wanted to fix it, he needed to fix it. But you had made abundantly clear that you needed space. But how much space?

XX

The next morning, you and Anthony didn’t speak a word to each other at breakfast. Anthony was urging to hear your voice but you were steadfast in remaining silent. He watched as you finished your breakfast and moved to stand from your seat.

A look of discomfort crossed your features as you stood. You grabbed your stomach as you continued to stand fully.

“Are you alright?” Anthony asked. Your lady’s maid came to your side to help you stand fully. “Thank you, Gloria.” You said to her kindly. You took your leave to the garden, Anthony watching you as you left.

“Gloria, keep a watchful eye on her.” He instructed the maid. “Yes, my lord.” Gloria responded, walking after you.

Later that afternoon, as you were in the sitting room, you felt that sharp pain in your stomach again. You moved quickly and placed your hand on your stomach again. But as the pain increased, you winced and soon your winces became groans of pain.

“My lady, what is the matter?” Gloria asked you. “I do not know. I-I have some pain in my stomach.” You answered. Gloria instructed the other maid to go fetch the Viscount as she stayed by your side.

“I don’t want to worry him.” You spoke. “But what if something is wrong?” Gloria questioned. You were about to reply when the pain increased and felt like a dagger to your stomach.

You let out an even louder groan of pain as Anthony rushed into the room. “Y/N, darling, what’s wrong?” He asked, kneeling in front of you. “The pain started this morning and now it won’t stop.” You explained. “I-Is the baby coming?” He questioned. “No, this is different. Anthony, what if something’s wrong?” You replied.

Anthony looked at you for a moment, seeing your fear and your pain. “Call the doctor. Tell him it’s an emergency.” Anthony instructed his butler. “I-I don’t know what this could mean. What if I lose the baby?” You panicked.

“Y/N, look at me,” Anthony started. He grabbed her hands and you looked at him with watery eyes. “Our baby is going to be okay. You are going to be okay. I know I wasn’t here before but I am here now and I love you.” Your husband told you. “I love you too.” You replied.

When the doctor arrived, you were escorted to your chambers so you could be more comfortable while he was examining you. The doctor was quiet as he examined you, not saying much. That bothered Anthony. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Nothing to comfort you or reassure you that your baby was okay.

“The baby is alright, Lady Bridgerton. You experienced a rather normal part of pregnancy; contractions that don’t lead to labor. They are quite alarming, especially given that this is your first child, but the baby is okay.” He explained. “So she’s okay?” Anthony asked. “Yes. Both mother and child are healthy.” The doctor answered.

You let out a subtle sigh of relief as you rested your head against the bed frame. At the door, the butler escorted the doctor out and Anthony turned to look at you.The adrenaline from the fear he felt had finally worn off and now he was just terrified.

Anthony moved to sit next to you on the edge of the bed and took your hand in his. “I have been an awful husband.” He spoke. “Anthony,” You sighed.

“I have heard the risks of childbirth. Women die while birthing a child and I do not think I’ve ever been more terrified than I was at this moment. I thought I would lose you and our child. I caught a glimpse into what my mother felt when she lost my father and I never want to feel that. I’ve been wasting precious time with you just because I was scared.” Anthony continued.

You finally understood why he had distanced himself since you fell pregnant. He was afraid he was going to lose you during childbirth. You wished he would have come to you with his fears rather than pushing you away when you needed him most.

“Anthony, I do not plan on going anywhere. I wish you would have just told me what you were feeling. It’s alright to be vulnerable, especially with me. It doesn’t make you less of a man.” You finally said.

“I know that now. And I am so sorry for neglecting you the way I did. You needed me and I wasn’t there.” Anthony said. “I forgive you.” You told him.

Anthony looked at you with disbelief, fully convinced you wouldn’t forgive him for his behavior.

“I love you, Anthony. We have to forgive the ones we love for their mistakes. Besides, if the stress of being mad at you is what caused my condition, I’d rather not go through it again.” You teased.

Anthony gave you a tearful laugh before kissing you deeply.

Two months later, you welcome a healthy baby boy into the world. And he has his father wrapped around his finger.

[miguelhugger2099]

What a Man!

Summary: Times where Miguel reminded you that he's kinda the ideal man. Art by AndalusiaLu on twt :) Next>> Miguel x GN!Reader, Fluff, Drabble

You were used to dating shitty men. One way or another they'd disappoint you so you've learned to pick your poison. You'd much rather date a broke man than an abusive one, as sad as that sounds.

So, when you meet Miguel, a six foot nine, muscle built rich man, you half expected for him to fall into one--but not limited to--three categories. Gym rat, machismo, or a entitled narcissist. It wouldn't be your first and it wouldn't be your last either. But, you were pleasantly surprised when he offered to take you out to a nice restaurant as a first date.

You asked for the address of the place he named and were met with pure confusion on Miguel's end. "Why would you need the address?" He asked.

"So I can drive there?" You raised an eyebrow. Miguel's lips tugged downward.

"I was planning on picking you up," He shrugged. "But if it's a matter of safety, then let me at least pay for your ride there and home."

You were gobsmacked. No forcing you in his car? And he offered to pay for the expenses? You pushed down the slight leap in your chest and coughed. "Picking me up is fine."

Miguel had set the time to pick you up at six thirty and when he texted he was outside, you had to embarrassingly ask him for another five minutes to finish the touches on your outfit. He assured you it was fine and to take your time but you still hurried anyway, not wanting to take up too much time when he's the one driving.

You opened the door the exit and you gasped, taking a step back at seeing Miguel right in front. His back was facing you but when he heard you and the door opening, he turned around and gave you a charming smile. In his hands was a small bouquet of flowers, his suit neatly tailored and it looked snug on his toned body. His white collar was popped open just enough to see the gold chain draped on his neck.

"Forgive me. I should've asked what type of flowers you liked beforehand but I hope these roses will do." Miguel handed them to you and you had to remember to pick your jaw up off the ground. Flowers? On the first date? Flowers at all? You accepted the bouquet with a bashful smile, smelling the fresh scent of the roses with a murmur of your favorite flower.

Miguel's smile grew slightly at your pleased reaction. "I'll be sure to remember that, cariño." He held out his hand to you and you took it with him then leading you to his car.

You subconsciously reached for his car door handle but his larger hand reached for it first. Popping it open, he helped you inside the comfy leather seat of his luxurious car with a gentle squeeze of your hand and closing the door. He opened the door for you? Good lord. You fanned your face to ease the heat growing on your cheeks and dumb smile on your lips.

On the road, he engaged in small talk that consisted of asking about your day, listening to your small rants about work with him pitching in when you asked your own questions. The chemistry was there, conversation and bantering flowing seamlessly between the two of you.

Once at the restaurant, not only had he opened the door for you but also pulled out your chair! You two picked up the menu and you struggled to find the cheapest option available, not wanting to hurt his pockets. Seeing your eyebrows knit together, Miguel nudged the menu down with his finger to meet your eyes.

"Pick what you want. I'm paying anyway." He tilts his head slightly.

You chuckle nervously. "I just don't want you to spend too much. It's rude."

Miguel tuts, shaking his head. "Sweetheart, like I said, I'm the one taking you out. Everything is on me," He leans back in his chair, gazing at the steak section. "Besides, I have more than enough. A few extra dollars won't make a difference."

Jesus Christ. These prices couldn't hurt his bank account when yours is crying just looking at it? "Well, maybe this pasta here looks good?" You point to the one you've been subtly eyeing. Miguel gives a hum of approval.

"You have a good eye." He praises with a small wink and making you giggle. The waiter comes by to collect your order, Miguel adding a wine by a name you can't pronounce. He then hands both your menus to the waiter and faces you again.

"Now, what was that about your boss giving you shit at work?" He smirks, remembering and even wanting to hear the rest of your story from the car. You laugh and lean your elbows on the table, starting from the top while Miguel listens with open ears.

After being in an established relationship, you learned Miguel was private about your relationship but not secretive about it. He often invited you as his plus one to his works banquets at Alchemax, his arm around you at all times whether on your shoulder or around your waist.

Miguel would show you off with pride. "And who's this lovely one next to you?" Someone would ask mid-conversation. He'd perk up, standing a bit taller and moving his hand to the middle of your back.

"This is my wonderful partner." He smiled, announcing your name to them and kissing your temple. You felt shy even with the small public display of affection. Too much made you feel icky and too little made you feel sad---Miguel knew just the right amount to get your heart fluttering.

While Miguel had been talking to another group of men, you tugged on his suit to grab his attention. He immediately put the conversation on hold and looked down on you with a hint of of concern. "What's wrong?"

You smiled reassuringly. "Nothing. I'm just gonna grab a drink--kinda thirsty. Want one?" You asked. Miguel relaxed after knowing you were okay and he nodded.

"That'd be great. Gracias, cariño." He lifted your chin to give you a quick peck that you reciprocated and slipped you his card before letting you be to find the bar.

You squeezed through the crowd of rich and smart people alike, making your way to the familiar counter filled with various types of alcohol. You leaned over to catch the bartenders attention and order two drinks, passing Miguel's card to him and sat on the stool while you waited.

You glanced around the banquet, mindlessly taking everything in to the chandeliers and the different types of people you'd never thought you'd be in the same room if it weren't for Miguel. Speaking of which, your eyes landed on him, smiling to yourself as he chatted along with his colleagues. You admired the way he was confident but not egotistical, kind but not a push-over, humble but knows his worth. You really lucked out with this one.

The clinking of two glass cups snapped you out of your lovesick gaze and you smiled at the bartender, giving your thanks. You hopped off the stool and picked them up carefully before looking up and stopping in your tracks. Where you meant to walk towards Miguel, there was an older man introducing what you guessed was his daughter to Miguel. In the pit of your stomach, you pushed down the feeling of jealousy, instead focusing your emotion on how Miguel would react.

You've spent too much time entertaining men and their games, whether it was to purposefully piss you off or discard you for an ounce of someone else's attention. So you watched how Miguel would handle it and you hoped he wouldn't disappoint you.

The woman smiled a little too big for your liking, obviously making herself seem more attractive in his eyes. Which would've been fine--if it wasn't to your man. Your eyes narrowed when she reached for his bicep but then Miguel stopped her. You blinked as you saw him try to shove her off as professionally as possible but you saw him clench his jaw to hide his disgust. He faced the older man without sparing another glance at the appalled woman, gesturing to himself and shaking his head. You assumed he was explaining he was taken and was proven right when he turned in your direction and his eyes met yours. His face morphed into something softer when he looked at you, a smile on his face when he turned back to the man-- "happily in a relationship" his lips said.

The weight in your chest lifted instantly. Miguel wasn't playing a childish game to make you jealous and he was committed to you. To you, he had gotten so much more attractive in your eyes.

You felt a small poke to your shoulder and you turned around, seeing a man with slicked back blonde, almost white, hair. He sized you up and down which made an uncomfortable shiver run down your spine. You took a step back and smiled politely. "Can I help you?"

The man chuckles. "Just wondering what a pretty thing like you is doing all by yourself. Especially with two drinks. Someone ditch you? That's a shame." He sauntered over closer to you but you took another step back up until you hit a wall. Or what you thought was a wall. You smelled the familiar scent of Miguel's signature cologne and looked up.

Miguel was right behind you, his eyes void of the softness just moments ago and narrowed at the man in front of you. His arm had wrapped around your middle and pulled you closer to him possessively, his other hand taking one drink from your hand. "Thank you for getting us a drink, mi vida," He kissed your temple then down to your cheek. "Kron, seems you've just met my partner." His smile was strained as he hissed out 'partner'.

Kron, as you now know, had stopped smiling instantly. He tried hiding the obvious hatred for Miguel but it still seeped out. "Miguel," He greeted. "Seems I have. Didn't mean to intrude. Have a nice night." He excused himself and grumbled while walking away. Miguel watched as he did so, taking a sip of the drink you had gotten him, the cubes tinkling against the glass. He bent down to your ear after swallowing the bitter taste, his breath warm and tickling you with how close he got.

"From now on, you don't leave my side. I can't bear people thinking you're not mine." His deep voice rumbled and his grip never left your waist the whole night. Wherever you went, he went along and wherever he went, his hand was always somewhere on your body. You head spun the rest of the night, flushed next to him while he managed to slip in that you were his in every conversation and even stealing a few kisses here and there. To have a man this proud of you, it made your heart flutter like no other. Private but not secretive.

A/N: something short and sweet in the middle of writer's block :')

[poppy-metal]

back on my dilf-next-door!art donaldson-

i just know this man is borderline obsessed with you but it makes him feel like a dirty old man to think it so he keeps it to himself (by that i mean his beats off by the window that lets him see into your house)

and when you finally let him hit he nearly blacks out and he cries a little bit because it’s better than he imagined (every night)

the fact that art is as hot as he has the body that he has looks like that is a good person and a good father and kind and just all his tens and yet. he's the one thankful to you - he's held himself off for so long, i think. he's a lover at his core, a divore would shatter his heart - he'd not be ready to move on for some time and he'd devote all of his time to lily. the possibility of a relationship isn't even a thought in his mind - doesn't even grace the stratosphere of his world. he gives himself so fully to others its hard to have anything left over for himself. he spends years in a monotonous rhythm of spending time with lily, building a life for her thats full, building a home she'll be happy to come to when its his turn to have her - even when hes on his own, hes always working - building something - a new bookshelf for the comics lily is into - gardening - the flowers make him feel at ease and lily likes them - a pool - lily likes to swim. he still treats his body like a machine, up every morning, jogging until his lungs are screaming so loud and his heart is beating so hard he can't think of anything else, cant feel the void in his life. cant let himself feel discontent.

he hardly notices hes built a space to share with someone else until you're there - filling it. he realizes he built a home bigger than himself and lily and he doesn't realize how fucking lonely he was until you've been over at his house and you leave and it just feels wrong to sit in the stillness like that. he finds himself having fantasies when he's in the shower and his hand skims down his stomach, cups his dick - usually its a quick almost clinical affair, a bodily function he needs to release - letting his head thump forward to meet the steamed glass in pleasure. his breath fogging - he lets himself think of you, of your body, your skin and your smile and the way you dress everything everything everything - hes moaning his hand gliding up and down up and down. and he imagines your face nuzzling him, how sweet you'd be - on your knees - he thinks you'd suck and lick around his tip - dip your tongue into his slit. he pulls back his foreskin to release the pink head, rubs his thumb over the rubbery skin as he imagines it - imagines the warmth , imagines sinking into it. when he cums his knees quake. he smiles, breathless and like hes a teenager again, because that was the best fucking orgasm of his life.

so yes hes thankful - so fucking thankful when he gets you to stay the night, when he doesn't have to be alone in an empty fucking house and even worse, go to bed by himself. hes damn near whimpering with relief when he presses you back into his sheets and slots between your thighs and the sigh that rattles from him when his body settles over yours comes deep from his very bones. you touch everywhere and its so fucking good. hes hot and hard and slick, sliding against the crease of your thigh - and you gasp, "art. please - "

and he kisses you quiet - stilling himself as he lifts his hips, nudges his cock against the wet slit of your sex and presses - presses in and in and in and he's the one gasping this time, open and wet against your mouth, not even kissing just panting against your lips.

his head drops to your shoulder, his hips rock, and the moan he lets out sounds wet and soft - like he could cry, like hes on the cusp of it. "its so good." he breathes, mouths at your skin, sucking wetly on it, pulling it into his mouth. his teeth graze and its a pain you like. "you're so tight - oh my god."

you legs rise - the insistent nudge back and forth of his hips against yours spreading you, making you want to let him in even more even though hes so. hes so "oh art, you're so deep." hands gliding up the flexing muscles of his back, locking your ankles above his ass, urging him on. in and in and in in in in in. "it feels g - ood. keep - keep going - keep - oh -"

his moan rumbles from his chest, hes pressed so tight against you hes barely pulling out - your pussy squeezing him, sucking on his cock - you dont want him to leave but - you want it faster - you want it. his lips skim the shell of your ear and you gasp when he wraps a hand under your back, lifting you a little, pressing you impossibly closer, his other hand fits down as well, until both his big palms are under you, cupping your ass, molding you to his dick, rocking you against him back and forth up and down again and again and again. "you dont know," he pants, his voice hard and low like gravel, "how long I've needed this."

needed not wanted.

"have it-" you babble, nearly bouncing against him now. letting him maneuver you how he wants up and down on his cock. "its yours, baby, take it - take it-"

the slap of your bodies starts to echo throughout the room - his fucking becoming needier and and needier - his hands on your ass digging in now, gripping and not cupping, dragging not guiding guiding you against him. punching in and out of your cunt helplessly.

"thank you - thank you, thank you fuck - fuck honey. oh fuck -" he sounds tortured and you slide a hand through his damp blonde curls in comfort. can tell by the way he sounds and the way hes fucking you that hes breaking apart, how much he needed this on a fundamental, animal level. it goes beyond just being horny - he's denied himself this for so long - you're letting the band he's let get stretched thinner and thinner, finally snap. snap with the pound of hips crushing yours into the bed in pounding thrusts of his cock inside you. "I'm gonna cum - tell me - tell me to cum inside you. tell me you want my fucking cum filling your pussy."

"i want it, i want it, i want it."

god, you'd make him a dad again. you tell him so, "get me pregnant. I'll make you a daddy again, art, please - just fill me up -"

"FUCK!" the shout comes deep from his gut. ripped from his lungs and then he's at you like an animal, pummeling his hips and the bed is rocking, rocking so hard you know there will be dent in the wall but you dont care you cant stop moaning his name and begging for his cum and holding him to you like you could meld your limbs together.

so glad that you moved next door.

[beanxiv]

their favorite place to kiss you ; multiple bnha boys

summary: bnha boys and where they love kissing you most.

word count: 1.6k

includes: gn reader, katsuki bakugou, izuku midoriya, shouto todoroki, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima, tamaki amajiki, keigo takami, touya todoroki, hanta sero, & tenya iida.

warnings: suggestive on dabi's part, but not really. its def sfw so no need to worry abt that. also a small amount of cussing.

katsuki bakugou

katsuki loves kissing your lips. he doesn't do anything "half-assed," as he'd say, and kisses to your lips are always full of affection towards you. whether it's a quick peck or a kiss that turns into a make-out sesh, there's always love and passion within katsuki's kisses.

when he kisses your lips the tension leaves from between his brows, the irritation that might've built throughout the day is leaking away, and all his focus is on you and your pretty, pretty lips

keigo takami

might sound odd, but keigo likes kissing your shoulders and back, specifically between your shoulder blades. after a long day of flying around and patrolling the streets of japan what he wants most is to come home to your shared apartment and into your warm arms. he'd tell you about his day, whether it was eventful or not-- he likes seeing you pay attention to him. you wonder aloud what it'd be like to fly around japan all day.

keigo kisses your shoulders and insists on some cheesy shit like, "baby you already know how to fly-- hell, y'flew into my heart and made it soar." you can't help but cringe and giggle at his dorkiness but he totally meant everything he said.

touya todoroki

touya can't get his mind off of the soft skin of your neck whenever you kiss. he feels the need to just sink his teeth in and show you how much you make him burn. it's not too often that he kisses your neck but when he does, he makes the most of it. he'll kiss every inch, from the top of your neck, near your jaw, all the way down to your collarbone.

if you ever ask touya why he likes kissing your neck he'll probably reply with something vague or suggestive. the real reason? he loves the smooth skin of your neck and loves feeling you warm at his touch, squirming when his lashes tickle a certain spot. this close to your chest, touya can feel your heartbeat get quicker and just loves it. no matter how tough a mission or how roughed up he got that day; if he gets to come back to base and indulge in you like this, every injury was worth it.

shouto todoroki

shouto, in his soft and loving moments (almost all his moments) will kiss the side of your head, right at your temple. he isn't the best at expressing himself, but he loves you more than anything and wants to take all your worries away. when shouto kisses your temple, he acts as if he's pulling all the negative thoughts from your head, trying his best to pull together his own thoughts and voice them against your temple, filling your head with his adoration for you.

bonus: the hand crusher likes kissing your hands. they're so beautiful to him and if he had to save one pair of hands from his "hand destroying curse" they'd be yours no doubt."

izuku midoriya

izuku's body is stacked with scars and freckles and he knows how they might make one insecure, but yours are so beautiful and empowering that he makes it an effort to kiss each one of your scars and moles/freckles/blemishes whenever you need it. except, to him, they not blemishes per se, more like your story. they say your moles are where your lover in your past life kissed you the most, i don't think izuku would genuinely believe that, but he still loves to kiss the moles scattered on your body saying something like, "i'll be yours in every life, love." and your scars, he knows all of their stories, he'll kiss them and comfort you, telling you how beautiful and strong they make you.

and if you reciprocate? kiss izuku's scars and freckles?? oh, he'll melt in your arms right then and there. you've sent him off to cloud nine. you'll physically see his soul ascend, he just becomes the happiest man alive.

tamaki amajiki

tamaki loves your cheeks, the plush skin of them always warm against his lips. the innocence of it just takes you out and makes you melt. the way he just takes your face in his hands and presses kisses to each of your cheeks. or when he kisses the middle of your cheek and pulls away to look at you, tracing the curve of your face.

even better when you're looking back at him with those pretty eyes of yours, full of affection. he'll get so flustered and shy, crumbling right at your feet.

hanta sero

hanta loves your lips too, even more so the corner of your lips. the little jerk likes to tease you, kissing the corner of your mouth until you get worked up about it. only then will he finally press a sweet kiss to your lips.

when you complain about hanta's teasing he'll laugh, kissing the edge of your lips once more. "so greedy, my love. good things come with patience." he thinks he's soo cool and wise but he's really just a lovable bully

hitoshi shinsou

in your presence alone, hitoshi is a different person. in those moments when it's just you two, hitoshi'll always have his face buried in your neck turning to kiss your jaw every once in a while. it started as a sleepy habit, he couldn't quite reach your lips, so he opted for your jaw. after that it became a normal habit

even if your jaw is farther than your lips when he's standing over you, he'll just lean down further to kiss it. or he'll tip your face up to his for him to smooch. and if you're taller than him? even better! he won't have to lean down, and if you're that much taller, he'll simply take your face in his hands and pull your face down to his.

eijirou kirishima

eijirou is the most supportive lover ever. this man will do quite literally anything to make sure you feel loved. he always finds himself kissing your stomach. might sound weird but when you guys are cuddled up somewhere and eijirou's head is resting on your torso he'll just start pressing a million kisses to your stomach out of nowhere, if you ask why he'll be like, "i just love your stomach, something wrong with it, babe?" and he's being serious, if you've ever mentioned being insecure of your belly, whether you feel to skinny or too chubby. he'll be like, "uh, no. my significant other is not gonna feel unloved and ugly while i'm around." and shove his face onto your stomach and over-dramatically kiss it everywhere with the little smooch sounds and everything.

and if you tell him to stop he will, but if you're joking he'll take it as encouragement to show you even more love.

tenya iida

tenya loves feeling strong and protective, and kissing your forehead makes him feel just that! especially if he's taller than you. if not, he doesn't care, he can still protect you nonetheless. he'll kiss your forehead millions of times over just to feel like he's your boyfriend. because what is a boyfriend if not caring and protective of you? tenya takes his position as your boyfriend as if it's a job he had to apply for and gets paid for, except this job isn't a nine-to-five. it's a full twenty-four hour business that he is more than happy to take part in.

he’ll take your face in his hands and either pull you down to him or lean down himself to kiss your forehead, depending on your height difference. and he’ll just caress the sides of your face as he does. and tenya is the biggest simp for you ever. if you’re a hero like him, he’s your biggest fan. if you’re not a hero, he’s still your biggest fan ‘cause who cares? you may be a civilian to everyone else, but you’re sure as shit his hero.

denki kaminari

it’s hilarious if you think denki can only pick one place on your body to kiss as his favorite. ha, no. this down bad dork can’t stop and won’t stop kissing every part of you whenever and wherever you let him. like he’ll pepper kisses all over your face, trail kisses down your arms, scatter some more of your neck, and once he’s placed a kiss on every bit of skin you allow him to, he’ll smack a giant kiss on your lips. no, seriously. all the boys are simps, but denki? he’s another category of the word simp. he’s down bad, down astronomical, even.

he’s a very physically affectionate guy, and if you are too, awesome! if not, he respects that and will hold back to make sure you’re comfortable. and if you’re cool with pda he’ll never be far from you, practically attached to your hip. and very often placing casual kisses somewhere on you, be it your shoulder, head, cheek, wherever! so long as you’re comfortable with it, denki is all over you.

© beanxiv — all rights reserved. copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is not allowed.

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST PART FOUR

Unchained Melody (Part Five)

Summary: On the path to mending your fragile marriage, you and Tommy can't bear to stay more than a few moments away from each other. In more ways than one. But as joy and laughter returns to the halls of Arrow House during an evening of ball gowns and tuxedos. The Governess, left scorned and bitter, makes the final arrangements for her deadly plan of revenge.

Warnings: Language, smut (Minors DNI), fluff, postpartum depression, violence, one racial slur, angst

Word count: 5340

Authors note: Thank you for everyone's patience as I took some time away from Tumblr. It's been a while since I have written anything, so I'm a little rusty. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

"Tea, Mr...Dogs?" Frances asked, unsure of how to address the burly built man striding though the doors of Arrow House as he removed his green tweed cap from his head. His informal manner never ceasing to stop the head housekeeper from entering a dizzying muddle as she clutched to keep things as one would expect in the grand house she managed.

" Touch of whisky Frances. That'll be grand" he replied, stamping his mud-crusted boots onto the freshly polished floors that had recently been cleaned for the event set to take place that evening as he looked down at his pocket watch. Eight in the morning. Never too early to fire up the old lungs with one of Tommy's finest whiskys. He thought to himself as he looped his thumbs under his suspenders, taking in the grand foyer and all its fineries. He could get accustomed to this.

"Johnny boy!" Tommy greeted loudly to his old friend as he walked down the grand staircase. The smile on his face a pleasant change from the solemn frown that had become customary as of late.

"Nice digs you got 'ere Tom. Any spare rooms going, ey?" He replied with a hearty laugh, shaking your husband's hand with a firm pat on his arm.

" Not enough for your brood, and the dozen you've got scattered across the county, Johnny" Tommy replied with a chuckle, his sudden turn in mood a stark difference from the one he had replaced for the past two years. His humor further set on improving with what he hoped was next to come out of his trusted friend's mouth.

" In good spirits ey, Tommy?" Johnny replied as you made your way down the staircase with William hitched on your waist, babbling a nursery rhyme as he enthusiastically bounced up and down in your arms.

" Something like that..." Tommy's voice trailed off as he turned to face you, adoration and pride beaming lovingly through his eyes at the sight of you both together. Reunited, finally.

As in love as the day he laid eyes on you, Tommy watched as you slowly descended down each step. Recounting the night, you stayed curled up beside him watching the fire he had lit in the living room of your grand home settle into charred blackness as you both fell asleep soundly within each other's arms after having come to blows over what desperately needed to be said.

"...will be made better with what you've got to tell me" he quietly replied, not wanting you to overhear, nor have your settled worries be bogged down once again.

" A cousin up in Scotland" Johnny spoke in a hushed voice as he sent William a wave and a wink your way.

" That's it?" Tommy replied with a furrowed brow, hoping for more information on the woman that had caused nothing but turbulence since her employment, and a shame your husband wanted to be rid of.

" There's been talk, Tom. In the women's wash house", Johnny added, placing a cigarette tightly between his lips, puffing the fumes through the corner of his mouth.

" Gossip Johnny. I need something better than what tattling old women have to say" Tommy replied, taking the pack of cigarettes and lighting his own as he watched the morning rays of sun glisten on your glossy smile, completely unaware of the goings-on and the vicious nature of the woman hired to care for your child.

" Kin to every man in Birmingham. Nothing gets past them, Tom. I'd stake my life on those old women's whispers" he spoke quietly, before turning his back to you and revealing what the nattering of the town had to say about the Governess in a hushed voice as you opened the dining room door and a triumphant smile grew on your husband's lips.

" Now that is interesting, Johnny. Very interesting"

With your mind still plagued with worry, you couldn't help but let the guilt of your lapse in parenting weigh down your thoughts as you sat opposite young William at the large dining table and back in your rightful seat as you awaited your husband. As your hands hovered nervously over your lips, you watched intently as your son took each mouthful of toast, your eyes darting back and forth to the fading red blotches that covered his skin.

" William?" You gasped, your eyes widening as your hand flew across the table to him when a small cough left his buttery mouth.

" He's fine darling" Tommy said as he entered the room, just as you was ready to bolt up and scoop him into your arms to the nearest doctor. " Forgets to chew. Don't you son?" Tommy smiled as his heavy hand brushed along your back, coming to settle on your shoulder.

" Yes..." You replied with a shaky voice looking back at your son, unconvinced of his well-being as your face twisted in worry.

" Hey, look at me Y/N" Tommy said, resting his thumb on your chin, gently turning your head to face him. "He's ok, darling. I promise" He said with raised brows, softly brushing the warmth of your cheek with his calloused hand. Wanting you to be rid of any lingering doubt.

" He's ok" you repeated your husband's comforting words as you settled your hand over his, bringing it down to the table where Tommy quickly intertwined his fingers into yours and you stayed there undisturbed, enjoying the closeness the morning of just the three of you alone brought. That was until the headache that came in the form of a scorned, spiteful woman with her own menacing agenda charged through the dining room.

" Get out" Tommy quickly snapped with a huff. Swiftly laying out the rules of the home he should have done long before your return.

Begrudgingly tolerant of the woman who had thrown a spanner into the sensitivity of his business contacts, his patience had all but evaporated with the learnt information Johnny had shared with him that morning. But with Tommy now holding the upper hand, her wager was in dire jeopardy. The Governesses time left at Arrow House had rapidly descended into hours, if not minutes.

" I need Gerry to take me in the car" she said as she stood at the end of the table, her talons clicking impatiently on the mahogany wood.

" No" Tommy flatly stated as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth, mumbling incoherently his own choice words for her to leave under his breath as he lit a match.

" Tom" you quietly said as you rested your hand on his knee, cooling the rapidly burning fury within him, you knew was dangerously close to boiling over.

For even after her blatant disrespect towards you and the relationship you were trying to rebuild with your family. The last thing you wanted was for your young child's impressionable mind to see his father's anger slip out in front of him over a woman you knew full well was purposely trying to infuriate not only your husband, but you yourself, who had taken back your position she felt now belonged to her. Keep calm and carry on. The British way. And in this situation, the only warranted reaction.

" Taking my family into the city this morning. So..." He shrugged as he glared at her. "Walk" Tommy brushed her off, your intimate touch enough to catch him off guard and stop him from giving her the marching orders she was long overdue right then and there. In turn, sparing you from the outburst he knew she'd unleash and the encounters they had, she would undoubtedly reveal just to hinder your mending heart.

" Perfect. I'm heading that way too" her mouth curled into a smile as her eyes narrowed in on your husband.

" That's fine. Right, Tommy? " you said, squeezing your husband's thigh as your eyes darted to William intently watching his father's changing expression in response to her refusal to keep her distance, and the constant reminder of his lack of loyalty, even in your absence her presence brought.

" Right" Tommy replied clearing his throat, more preoccupied by the feeling of your hand resting soothingly on his leg. Wanting to feel closer to you. Patiently waiting for the moment you would approach him.

A family outing into town with a fourth wheel in tow. The quicker she was gone, the better. Tommy would no longer stand around with such niceties. She would be gone by the end of the day. Kicking and screaming, then so be it. But she'd be gone. He'd promised himself.

" Mr Shelby! Mr Shelby!" The young kitchen aid called out, catching up to Tommy as you headed out the door with William toddling beside you.

" What is it Billy?" Tommy replied with a furrowed brow as he placed his peak cap on his head, motioning for you and William to walk ahead to the Bentley waiting outside.

" I...I need to speak with you" he stammered out, unaccustomed to speaking directly to the head of the house he worked in.

Fair and just. Tommy had never given any member of his staff a reason to fear him. But with the worried glances over his shoulder and his fumbling demeanor, the kitchen boy had not only Tommy's full attention but nagging curiosity as to what had him looking so nervous.

" Billy?" Tommy questioned, his hand firmly resting on his shoulder as he patiently waited for him to speak when the young man's eyes shot across the foyer to the Governess striding through. Her piercing glare enough for him to recoil and quickly apologise for having stopped your husband.

"N..nothing. Sorry to have bothered you sir" he said timidly stepping away as Tommy's head snapped back to the sound of the Governesses heels loudly echoing past him.

" Me, my wife or Frances. No matter the issue Billy, you come to one of us" Tommy said as he watched young Billy's eyes follow the Governess outside. " Understood? Billy?" He added, as the kitchen aid nodded before quickly returning back to the long days' work that awaited him in preparation for the gala of investors Tommy had planned for that evening.

There was no doubt in Tommy's mind that what young Billy had to say was halted by the presence of the Governess. Although determined to get to the bottom of what had occurred. For now his attention lay with you, his family. And the much-needed time he was desperate to spend with you. Just the three of you. At last.

After a short car ride into the city, with the Governess glaring at you with every second that passed, her eyes green with envy as she watched Tommy's thumb brush soothingly over your hand. You were relieved to finally pull up onto Watery Lane, and escape the tension her formidable stare had created.

"I don't think so" Tommy said with a smirk, his hand grasped firmly on the handle of the door to the betting shop, blocking the Governesses unwelcome attempts to follow you and William into the soot-covered terrace house and into the welcome arms of the Shelby family awaiting you. " Times up, love. Pack your bags and be gone by tonight" he said with a look of disgust, dismissing any further conversation with the woman he began to loathe.

" You're forgetting Tommy, that..." She began to seethe, thinking she still had the ultimate ace in her pack of cleverly played cards, before your husband swiftly stopped her in her tracks.

"That what, eh?" Tommy laughed, belittling any superiority she felt she still held over the situation. " You're not as clever as you think you are, sweetheart" Tommy said lighting a cigarette, blowing the fumes in her scorned face as annoyance settled on her perfectly primed brows.

" Been working your way around the whole country, haven't you? Thought you struck gold when you came knocking at my door. Guess you didn't expect my wife to come back though, eh?" Tommy said grabbing her chin, only a mere portion of the information he had learnt from Johnny briefly slipping through his gritted teeth as the Governesses face dropped at her scheming ways being unveiled.

" You'll regret this, Tommy Shelby. You and your precious wife" she spat back as Tommy's grip tightened.

" Get the fuck out of my house. And if you don't, I'll throw you out myself" Tommy snapped as his fingers dug against the bone of her jaw. "Believe me darling, nothing is beneath me. Even when dealing with the fairer sex" he warned her as he pushed her chin away from him out into the cobbled streets in front of his childhood home. Her blatant threats aimed at you enough for Tommy's questionable moral compass to slip even further. If he was going to kill a woman, it would be her. " Stay away from my wife and child" he warned her as he slammed the betting shop door in her face, leaving her fuming with a boiling rage the residents of Watery Lane precariously stayed clear of as they made their way back to their homes.

" What?!" She snapped as two young children hurried past her. Their eyes quickly averting to anything but the reddened-faced woman now marching down the muddied streets in the direction of where her new intentions now lied.

" Still 'ere then?" Esme asked, arms crossed, nose scrunched as she leaned against the shelf the Governess was scanning in the small convenience shop on the corner of the main street of Small Heath. " My John says Tommy's given you your marching orders" Esme said cracking a smile, her and everyone else in the Shelby family having never warmed to the woman that was intent on replacing you in every way.

" With child again, Esme?" the Governess scoffed as she looked down her nose past her hazel features to the swell of her stomach. " Don't your lot ever stop? What's this one? Third, fourth? I can't keep up " she laughed as she returned to the shelf, and it's curious contents.

" My lot. What's that supposed to mean, Gover-ness?" Esme was quick to respond, pushing her way between the shelf and the woman who was hellbent on insulting anyone who bore the name Shelby. Her disdain for the head of the family firmly at the forefront of her thoughts every waking hour of the day.

" There's that famous anger. Gypsies. You're all the same" she insulted, pushing past the blossoming bump and picking up a glass bottle neatly labeled "Rodent Poison", its killing substance, cyanide. Her swift concealment of her intended purchase going unnoticed by Esme, whose face had twisted in offense at the Governesses insulting, cruel words.

" So prim, so proper" your sister-in-law scoffed, as she looked at the neatly dressed woman from head to toe. "But I've heard talk. I know exactly what you are, how low you'll stoop. Governess to the upper class. Now running from a string of angry wives you wanted to replace and the affairs you had with their men" Esme smirked as she watched the Governesses quick wit falter, and her expression change to one of anger at her intentions further being exposed. " Your lot. Homewreckers. Filth" Esme spat with contempt as the Governess stood back, tightly holding the bottle against her body.

" Just this, Mr Higgs" the tall women said as she turned away from the braided beauty, placing the deadly bottle of household poison on the counter and paying. " Goodbye Esme" she smirked, before opening the rickety wooden door, the chime of the bell hovering above it announcing her departure and another step closer she was to playing her next lethal hand.

As the household staff hurried from room to room later that day, finishing off the last of their duties before the guests arrived. You kept yourself busy with worry with what the many invitees would have to say about your sudden reappearance at Arrow house as you prepared yourself for the dreaded evening.

" I can't do this...fuck. I can't do this" you mumbled under your breath as you shook your dressing gown off in front of the large standing mirror in your bedroom.

Stood there behind the dressing screen, your hand traced down your stomach over the faded scars that had turned opaque in the many months that had rolled by. A reminder of the home you kept your son safe, warm within the swell of your stomach. But imperfect, scarred.

Why won't they leave? You sobbed rubbing your flesh red, yearning for the body you had once, the one that captivated your husband's adoration. The one he wouldn't go a day without kissing every inch of. Was he no longer in love with you that way? Was that why he hadn't gotten closer to you? Kissed you? Your mind nattered to you as you turned to pull the sequin gown from its hanger, throwing it on the chair beside you when the door opened and your husband quietly walked in.

"Tommy, is that you?" You called out as you slipped your feet into your laced lingerie.

"Guests are arriving Y/N" he replied as he slowly walked towards the large wooden cabinet, pulling out a set of gold cufflinks. His initials intricately engraved into each one.

" Shit, I'm sorry. Can you help me, with the zip?" You asked, before quickly scrambling for the dress you had launched to the side in your flustered state. " No! Wait! Just...just hold on a second" you all but shouted, quickly pulling the dress over your knees before your husband saw your exposed body.

Coming to a sudden stop, Tommy waited behind the floral painted screen of Gardenias and Ferns, unable to stop his wandering eyes and loose footing from being captured by the soft amber lighting bouncing off the curve of your hip partially covered by the screen. Watching it slowly sway from side to side as you pulled the dress over your body.

Never had he felt so much desire, so much longing to hold you as he silently watched you glide the glittering gown up the edges of your body. The little he could see taking his already labored breath away from him within seconds.

"Y/N, darling?" Tommy said clearing his throat as he stepped back, recomposing himself and the collar of his shirt tightening around the pulsing vein in his neck.

"Ok, you can come" you said as Tommy cocked a brow, a small smile of amusement flashing across his face at your choice of words. Unbeknownst to you how true your statement was close to becoming a reality for him.

" I can't reach, can you just..." You said, gesturing behind your back as your smartly suited husband stood behind you, brushing his thumb down the middle of your back until the small zipper resting over the white lace of your underwear.

" You ok?" Tommy asked, swallowing heavy. Unsure if he was asking himself the very same question as he slowly pulled your dress together.

" Nervous" you smiled timidly to him in the mirror as you smoothed down the front of your gown, your face quickly twisting in uncertainty at your choice of dress.

" I won't leave your side" Tommy said turning you around as your hands came up to straighten his limp tie. " Not once " he said tucking the loose whispers of hair behind your jeweled ordained ears, his body slowly closing the small gap between you both.

" Promise?" You replied lifting your gaze to his hooded eyes staring down at you as you inched closer.

"Promise" he answered bending his head down to capture your ruby lips when a knock on a door and the announcement that all the guests had arrived stole the long awaited moment between you both.

And promise he did. Never once during the entirety of the night did Tommy leave your side as he worked the room and the many guests he had to greet, stealing small glances at you every brief moment he could to gaze at your radiating beauty. Whether it be talking to politicians or men of nobility, Tommy's hand protectively hovered next to yours throughout the evening, discreetly brushing over your fingers as he counted the hours to be finally alone with you again. He couldn't have hoped for a smoother night.

But calm is far from what was taking place behind the scenes of the glitzy evening of flowing ball gowns and filled champagne glasses that adorned the lower level of Arrow House. Far from calm.

With a smile painted on her face and a hop in her step. Your trusted housekeeper for the first time in a long time finally felt the early years of your residence in Arrow House joyfully seeping their way back into the heart of the home through the laughter and music that could be heard downstairs as she made her way up to William's nursery. Hoping he was sleeping as soundly as she had left him. But when she reached the door of your son's room, a reminder of the dark presence that still resided over the stately home could be heard whispering vicious words to the innocent ears of its youngest resident.

" I'll be your new mother soon. Your old mummy's not well, William. She left you, remember?" Don't worry she'll be gone soon" the Governesses voice hushed as she loomed over William's cot as he tossed and turned restlessly in his sleep. "Just you, me and your father, it won't be long now" she added as Frances watched on in horror through the crack of the door, her unfathomable words spilling from her thinly lined lips.

" Get out! Leave!" Frances' voice rose as she hurried to check on young William's well-being. " Mr Shelby ordered you to leave. If you had any sense, you'd go before he learns of the disgusting things I just heard you say"

" Oh Frances. The busy worker bee. Always listening, watching..." she giggled with a quick glare as she sauntered to the open door. " It will all end in heartbreak" she said as she turned around to face your trusted housekeeper and her hand firmly grasped onto the frame of the door, blocking any future attempts to reach your child and seethe her vapid words once again.

" When will you understand... Agness?" she questioned, speaking her name for the first time. Unwilling to use the title of Governess she no longer deserved. " You were but a minor distraction for him as he grieved and cried for the love he still held for his wife. He doesn't want you. Now leave" Frances said as the Governesses smirk dropped and her wicked hatred for anyone daring to get in her way spilled over into fury.

All it took was a blinding second, a swift merciless moment for the Governess to grab hold of the door and slam it shut on Frances' hand, crushing her wrist between the door and its frame.

Muffling her screams with all her might to not wake and frighten the young child in her care. Frances desperately tried to free her hand and the excruciating pain soaring through the snapping of her bones.

" Busy bodies always get their comeuppance, dear Frances " she said letting go of the door before her wrist gave way and broke.

Clutching onto her throbbing hand as she quietly wept. Frances slid down in a heap to the floor as she watched the Governess quietly walk away through her teary vision into the darkened corridor to a Charleston playing loudly downstairs.

"Frances! Frances!" The young kitchen aid caught up to her as she walked through the foyer, quickly grabbing a linen napkin and wrapping it around her limp wrist. " You're hurt" young Billy said, taking her hand as Frances stopped a young maid walking by.

" Go sit with William Ethel. All night. Don't leave his side" Frances ordered as the maid hurried with haste up the winding staircase to the nursery.

" What's going on? Is he Ill? I'll... I'll get Mr Shelby, Mrs Shelby" Billy stuttered as he looked at the terror weighing down your housekeeper's frightened face.

" No Billy. Let them be" she reluctantly replied as she turned to see the both of you dancing the last song of the night together, smiling lovingly at each other as small giggles joyously left your lips at Tommy's quick-footed steps. The happiness beaming off your faces tearing her away from interrupting your rekindling marriage. She would tell you in the morning. She promised herself.

" Frances, there's something I think you should know" Billy said, following her into the bustling kitchen as the staff washed their way through the many plates of canapes that had been eaten and glasses of champagne that had been drunk.

" What is it, Billy?"

As the evening slowly died down, and enough time had been spent in the company of people your husband had little, if any regard for other than their checkbooks. He quietly whisked you off to the small living room of your home to a lit fire and two crystal glasses of champagne waiting for you. Hiding you both away from any further small talk or pressing matters with the turn of a key. Alone, at last.

" Wasn't your finest moment, so I've been told" you laughed after recounting the story his brothers had told you about your poor husband's ghostly face and unsteady feet after hearing you scream bloody murder from down in the foyer he'd been pacing for near ten hours whilst you were in the throes of labor with William.

" Sweetheart.." He stopped, leaning forward to you with a smirk on his face. " You sounded like you were giving birth to the antichrist himself" he laughed, earning him a quick smack across the chest. " I've seen it at the pictures, so I know how that shit ends" he said tipping his glass to you with a cocky smile. The top three buttons of his shirt undone, waistcoat and cufflinks gone. For the first time in two years, Tommy looked relaxed. Happy.

" Yes well, good thing I gave you an angel of a son" you corrected him, taking a sip of your third glass of champagne.

" That you did" Tommy smiled to you. With his eyes glossed over with love, he reached his hand across the feathered cushion to softly rub his thumb across your knuckles. " How did I get so lucky, eh?" He sighed heavily, his eyes scanning across your face, engraving the very moment into his memory. Scared, his happiness would be snatched away from him once again.

" Tom..." You blushed, gazing up at him through your full lashes as a small nagging moment of guilt escaped the corners of your mind for having left him and your son.

" C'mere" he said, quickly simmering your worries as he ushered you closer to him with a tilt of his head, placing his empty glass on the table beside him.

With his breath hot against your lips, Tommy cupped your cheeks, closing the mere millimeters between you both and capturing your mouth in a tender longing kiss.

" Tommy..." You mumbled, quickly feeling the passion rise within you as the embrace intensified with the welcome feeling of your husband's tongue gently stroking against your own.

With a surge of confidence and a need to urgently feel your husband's body intertwined with yours, you pulled yourself up onto his lap as Tommy watched your hurried movements. Refraining himself and his own desperation to flip you onto your back, and bury himself in you.

Why was he just watching you? You thought to yourself as you undid each remaining button of his shirt one by one, a sudden wave of insecurity heating your cheeks as Tommy's hands stayed motionless by his side as his intent stare held still.

Were you rushing things, did you misunderstand his intentions ? Then why did he kiss you like that? Your brain ticked over with questions as he watched you timidly slide the straps of your dress down past your full breasts, sending a wave of desire through him as he scrambled to keep his composure, and let you take control of the pace.

Had he been too restrained? Shit. Did you think he didn't want this? He questioned himself as he watched your eyes fill with uncertainty as your hands hovered over the buckle of his belt.

" Don't stop..." Tommy breathed heavily as you apprehensively slid your hand down his trousers only to recoil with doubt that this was even what he wanted. " Darling please, don't stop..." He said swallowing harshly, his heart rapidly pounding in his chest at the long awaited feel of your touch as he torturously kept himself from taking things quicker. " Fuck" your husband moaned as you wrapped your hand around his stiffened cock, slowly pumping it up and down within your palm.

With your dress bunched up around your stomach, you lined his throbbing length up. Briefly lingering it beneath you, when your husband could no longer withstand the wait and his hands flew up to your waist sinking you down on to him with a gasp as he threw his head back in relief.

" Tommy" You moaned his name as he bucked further into you, his grip securely fastened on your waist.

"Sweetheart, look at me..." Your husband panted holding onto your hips as you rocked back of forth, eyes tightly shut, mouth agape in the highs of pleasure. " Y/N, look at me" he pleaded as he watched you finally open eyes, pulling you forward into a searing embrace before flipping you onto your back and ridding himself of the rest of his clothes

" Tom" you breathlessly whined as he thrusted into you, his hands tracing down the warmth of your body as he pulled at the fabric of dress in his way you was reluctant to be rid of.

" Stop hiding from me Y/N " Tommy said, as you pulled your gown back up, covering the scars your self-conscious thoughts resented as Tommy pulled out and knelt between your legs. " It's ok" he nodded reassuringly, gently moving your stubborn hands away and pulling the remainder of your clothes from your body.

"You kept our son safe" Tommy said, brushing his thumb over the small faded streaks as he watched your eyes well with tears. Hearing your worried thoughts without a single word leaving your lips.

" Hey, shhh" he hushed your fears away as he settled his heavy body down between your legs, his lips pecking their way over the slope of your breasts until capturing your mouth in his. " My wife. My beautiful wife" he said reaching his hand down to his pulsing cock, sighing at the feeling of your warmth enveloping him once again as he urgently entered you. " I love you Y/N" Tommy moaned between each labored breath as he rocked his hips into you, instantly ridding you of any doubt of his remaining feelings for you with three simple words. The sweetest of words you realised you had been waiting to hear to finally feel at peace with your past actions.

" I love you too, Tommy" you breathlessly moaned as you held onto your husband's strong frame as he pulled your legs around his back, wrapping them tightly against him to feel as close, as deep as he could possibly be. At one with you. Making love to you.

As morning came and the sun glistened through the netted curtains. Beams of light cascaded over the woven blanket draped over your tired bodies as you laid soundly asleep on the plush setee you had spent the night passionately making up for the many sleepless hours of darkness you had both endured. But darkness remained, looming feet from you. Creeping in unseen, unheard.

" Soon" The Governess whispered through gritted teeth as her fingers clasped tightly around the blade in her hand, her lust for vengeance close to sabotaging her deadly plan enough for her to find her way into the small haven you had made as she watched you from the door wrapped in a lovers embrace. " Soon..."

PART SIX (The Final)

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[kentopedia]

˚₊‧꒰ა what is and what should never be — levi ackerman

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. you wake up with the man you've always loved, but the sky seems too blue and the world too safe. maybe it's just your imagination.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. fluff, sfw, written with f!reader in mind but no gendered terms used, domestic life, established relationship, angst, wc: 1.7k

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈. tbh this is nothing special, but i'm trying to wrap up some wips and organize myself for october lol

part of my summerween series !

“Is everything alright, love?” 

You glanced back over your shoulder, mug still warm in your palm, to see Levi’s brows pinched, his eyes tracing across your features. He was looking for signs of distress, though you smiled in return shaking your head.

“I’m just trying to remember if there's ever been a time I was this happy,” you said, explaining your uncharacteristic silence.

At that, Levi softened, his expression no longer tight, lips curling up at the corners. “I see,” he said, standing from his seat at the table, to come stand by you.

Levi walked behind you, his arm curling around your waist, as he pressed a gentle kiss between your shoulder-blades. He said nothing, but his hands were gentle as they traced small patterns down your sides, his nose brushing your cheeks as he pressed a kiss to your jaw. 

You stared ahead, smiling wider, your heart pounding from pure joy. An unpreventable warmth spread across your face, and you sighed wistfully, gazing at the clouds in the startlingly blue sky. 

It was beautiful outside, a mild day, temperatures warm enough to laze around in the radiant light, but cool enough for a coat. The sun shone over the rolling fields beyond you, trees sprouting, flowers blooming in a garden around them. There was a small stream on the other side, one that curved beside your home, before fading out into the distance, bringing life to everything around it. 

Sometimes, it was hard to believe that this even was your life, the perfect landscape like something from a fairytale, a dream. To think that this had once been the territory of Titans — well, that seemed almost unbelievable. 

You’d built a life here with Levi, even if you couldn’t quite remember what events led into the next, how you'd gone from soldiers to a romantic marriage.

Fighting day after day tended to put gaps in your memory. The battles had worn thinly on you when you crawled into bed, exhausted and desperate to put the deaths out of your mind. 

It had been worth it, at the end of it all. 

You turned back to Levi, leaning forward to kiss him, smiling against his lips. Tea splashed between you, hot liquid burning through your sweater. But you didn’t mind, the taste of mint on Levi’s lips enough to distract you from the dampness on your clothes. 

“I love you,” he said, and though it wasn’t the first time, it squeezed your heart tightly, winding it up and stretching it out. He’d been all you'd ever wanted, this life had been all you ever wanted, and here it was, delivered to you with a perfect pretty bow. 

You could’ve cried, but instead, you curled your free hand around his cheek to kiss him harder. This time, you withheld an I love you, if only to show him with your actions. He appreciated that more, from time to time. Words could have very little meaning — even ones like that. 

Levi drew back, resting his forehead on your own, blue irises lighting up to match the sky. Even his eyes had changed from when you were younger. The once steely navy of his soldier days had turned peaceful, painted into him with watercolors. 

“You make me so happy,” you said, and a tear did slip from your eyes then, even if you didn’t know why. “I never want to lose you.” 

Levi's smile was just as wide, but there was something sad about it, something that shifted, turning inside out as he held you. “We don’t have to fight anymore,” he said, holding you closer. “We’re safe here.” 

“There might be another battle someday, Levi. A war. What if we get called back, or there’s Titans once again. I…” You trailed off, shaking your head as you breathed heavily. “I don’t want to go back to that.” 

Levi kissed your forehead, his fingers wiping the dampness off your cheeks. “You don’t have to. It can all be over if you want. Just stay here with me.” 

You pulled away from him, lips parting as you watched his face flash like a shadow. There was his old self again — the harder, rougher version of him, staring at you with blank emotion. It was still there, under everything, and the more you stared, the more it evolved. 

“I will,” you promised, but that sounded weak, a promise that was doomed to be broken. 

A pressure began on your chest, like your heart was pumping blood through you faster than your body could handle. You dug your nails into him tightly, swallowing over and over to dispel the pain.

But it came upon you fast, and you were caving in a matter of moments, toppling forward as you breathed heavily over your knees.

“What’s wrong?” Levi asked, rushing to your side, but you couldn’t focus. His fingers were cold, icicles scratching across your face. You made an attempt to lean away from him, but he was impossibly close, his breath ghosting across the bridge of your nose.

"I don't know," you said, but it was nothing more than a whisper, every syllable more breathy than the last.

Your vision turned white, a different light burning the back of your irises. Oxygen filled up your lungs — more than you needed. You thought they might burst, or float up out of your chest, soaked in the blood and remains of your insides.

Levi did nothing but stare at you, and when you tried to say his name again, nothing came out. At your side, your arms were weak, flopping around like bricks. You couldn't move.

You squeezed your eyes tight, crying out silently.

When you opened them once again, your Levi wasn't there at all. It was the old him, soaked in blood, wearing the emerald cape of the scouts' uniform. 

Levi’s eyes were still narrowed, dark as he scanned your body, tension draining from his shoulders. “You're alive,” he said, exhaling. "We weren't sure you were going to make it."

He looked over, gesturing another man forward, this one a doctor. There was a clipboard under his arm, some medicine in his hand.

The room was such a bright white you closed your eyes again, breathing in and out, easing your increasing anxiety. Even the light shuffling of the doctor's feet was enough to give you a splitting headache.

Something prodded at your temple, and you winced, a sharper pain taking to your head. Your eyes snapped back opened, glaring up at the doctor.

“Do you remember what happened? Who you are?” he asked.

For a moment, you didn’t. Then, memories came flooding back to you.

In the midst of battle, your gear had malfunctioned, and you’d been flung against a tree in an attempt to dodge the hands of a Titan. You remembered it reaching out to you, the pain when you flew hard against the trunk. Then, nothing. 

“I do,” you nodded, avoiding Levi’s eyes. You remembered the feeling of his lips on your skin, too. “I don’t know how I’m still alive.”

“You’re very lucky to be,” the doctor said, scanning through his notes. “Even luckier that none of your injuries seem to be permanent. You’ll have to stay here for a few more days, to make sure nothing else shows itself, now that you’re awake. Otherwise, you should be able to leave with only some bruises and a concussion. It's a miracle, really.” 

You nodded, but even that hurt. Your neck was stiff from all the sleeping. “Thank you,” you said, the words scratchy against your throat. 

The doctor left, leaving you and Levi alone. Warmth flooded your cheeks, the decade old love you'd had for him suffocating you.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Levi said, his words as neutral as they would be to any other soldier. 

You sighed, turning your head away from him. "You shouldn't have gone back for me. You could've died."

“Don’t say that,” he snapped. For once, you were surprised by the passion in his voice. “We’re both fine, and we can’t afford to lose anymore soldiers.” Levi exhaled, the small emotion that had leaked into his words fading away. “Besides. I've lost enough friends.” 

Normally, an unbearable heat would creep up on you when Levi called you a friend. It meant you were special, someone he trusted and kept close by. You were lucky to even be that.

Now, though, even your friendship was soured by your thoughts of the dream. A life where you were happy, where he loved you just as much as you’d always loved him. 

That’s all it was though, all it’d always been: a dream. Levi would never love you, and you’d always been a fool to think so. 

You forced a smile, exhaling a dark laugh. “Sorry. I just feel like shit. I think death might have been kinder.”

It would have been. Death would have been beautiful if it meant you got to spend eternity in Levi's arms, with kisses that felt like you were his whole world. 

“Maybe.” Levi said, skeptical. “Honestly, I don’t know anymore.”

You could hear the defeat in his words, something he didn’t let many others see. But you’d been there for Levi in some of his darker moments, too, and this was nothing special. That's what friends were for.

“Get some rest, okay?" he continued. "I’ll come back when I can.” 

You didn't know when that would be. A week, maybe. Levi was a busy man. 

“Okay." You conceded, hoping your disappointment wasn't evident. "Have a good night, Levi. I—”

Levi stopped and turned back around, waiting for you to finish your sentence. But you’d cut yourself off, horrified by how easily you’d almost let your secret slip. It had been years that you'd been holding back and I love you, and for the first time, you'd almost let it go.

You smiled tightly, the back of your throat burning. “I appreciate you always looking out for me. Thank you.” 

He nodded, and left without another word. 

The pain in your head migrated to your chest instead, and your heart squeezed painfully.

thank you so much for reading! ❤︎ this one was inspired by episode 2x20 of supernatural, with the same title <3

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (07)

chapter seven: built to break

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; the gorlies are fighting...?, not much for warnings in this chapter ig word count: 4.3k note: i finally got off my ass and wt is finally back lol. i had a last minute change of plans and thought "oh! you know what would be pretty neat? if we prolong the angst so everyone can be sad for longer!" <3 and this is how i announce that the next chapter is not wt8 but wt7.5 and it's written from his pov <3 merry christmas

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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I’ll hold my breath as I wait for your answer I’ll leave it up to you Tell me whether it’s yes or no Baby, love me or leave me tonight

Love Me or Leave Me - Day6

The warning signs, they're there. You can see them before they materialize. You know your own tells.

Your metaphorical bags are packed, your shoes are already on. You're about to run again, leave a half empty house before it has the chance to become a home. No one has to tell you that you're a flight risk; you're well aware of it yourself.

Wednesday Min: got plans tonight? You: booked and busy with ze old canvas Min: tomorrow? You: same thing probably. sorry Min: u're working hard lately You: yeah this one is just driving me crazy and i need it to turn out decent Min: it'll be perfect. it's u

Thursday Min: running errands at the store Min: want me to bring u anything? that caramel popcorn u like?

Friday Min: don't work too hard. remember to eat

That was three days ago, the last time you'd heard from him after you left him on read. It wasn't a complete lie; this project is driving you kinda crazy and you do need it to end up a decent piece, but you weren't exactly holed up in your apartment to slave over your painting. And you suppose Minho didn't find it all that suspicious because you tend to do this sometimes - disappear for a couple of days and force yourself to focus whenever you had a project to finish, before you come back to everybody again. You've come back to him before; it stands to reason that you'll do it again.

It's been about two weeks since you'd seen him, though the memories of that evening are still fresh in your mind - the evening of the group dinner, when he'd kissed you goodnight and left for his parents' house the following day. True to his words, he did send you pictures of the cats - ones of Soonie wearing a matching hoodie with him, a few of Doongie and Dori napping at the foot of his bed. There was an accompanying text - The kids miss you - along with a frowning emoji, and it made you wonder if what he really meant was I miss you.

You wanted him to miss you, because you missed him too.

The photos brought a smile to your face despite the predicament you found yourself in. A smile that was short lived, a smile that was soon wiped off when you realized your heart shouldn't be swelling with that much affection for him. It shouldn't, but the truth was that it did and you don't know how to live with it.

Love isn't something you've ever learned to hold.

It's beautiful yet full of thorns, and your hands are too clumsy to ever keep it from slipping from your fingers.

You remember when you first met Minho. Freshman year, at some popular senior's house party.

It feels like forever ago when you were just an awkward freshman at orientation who didn't have a single clue on how to make friends. Jess was your first friend in college, and you'll always be grateful that you got along well enough that she adopted you into the group with the rest of the guys.

You didn't cross paths with Minho until you were already acquainted with everyone else. On the night of the party, you remember being enamored with him for those couple of hours, and it wasn't the side effect of too many solo cups of cheap beer. Who in their right mind wouldn't be infatuated with him? He was beautiful, absolutely alluring, and you would always tell him as much.

Back then, he had brown hair, slighter shorter than now but it was tinted with the most gorgeous shade of red. You didn't know much about Minho, only been told that he was pretty quiet and might be off-putting to new people. It was sort of true; that night, you were intimidated by the aura he exuded. Mysterious, couldn't be bothered, didn't seem to give a shit. He looked like a scary little thing, while you were the new kid who was only trying to observe everyone's dynamics, not wanting to overstep any unspoken boundary.

To this day, you're still not sure what really happened, how you two immediately clicked and he's been one of the most important parts of your life ever since.

Maybe it was just him. Maybe it's always been him.

Minho, the one who makes you smile when all you want to do is curl up and cry. The one who makes you laugh when you look for joy but the search comes up empty. The one who grounds you every time you lose your way. Your anchor, the safe harbor you can always return to. The light at the end of a long, long tunnel.

You don't know where you stand, don't know where it goes from here now that everything is changing. He told you so himself, that nothing changed for him, but how could he possibly know that everything is changing for you? And it infuriates you to no end because you don't even have anyone to talk about this with. You're the only person whose world is being turned upside down after all.

You can't tell your friends because they can't know about you and Minho. You can't tell Minho because what would you even say? That you think you're in love with him? That the implications of what it means are devastating to you?

For the first time, you regret everything. Kissing him that night, sleeping with him, becoming whatever this is with him. Letting down your guard and falling for him somewhere along the way and you didn't even stop to notice it. You regret all of the decisions you've made up until now, because they've only led you to the point of no return, the point of losing him. You made bad decision after bad decision after bad decision, until you couldn't anymore. All along, there's been no one else to blame but you.

Maybe it hasn't happened yet, but it's inevitable. You will lose him. You are going to lose him.

There's no other ending, no other alternative that you can imagine. You're going to leave because you're a coward and it's what you do best. You ruin things before they get a chance to hurt you. You leave because if you don't leave then you'll be left behind, and you'd rather not bear the brunt of it.

Now, when you think of Minho, the thought is always accompanied by a painful reminder - Nothing changed for him.

When you get to the cafe, Hyunjin and Seungmin are already seated in a corner booth, three drinks in front of them, one of which they'd ordered for you before you arrived.

You slide into the seat next to Hyunjin, smiling at him appreciatively for the drink. There's still over half an hour before you have to walk to your shared class, over half an hour before Seungmin parts ways with you two to do whatever or whoever it is that Seungmin does on his off days.

"I still think it's Nara," Hyunjin says, casually sipping his iced coffee.

"Nara from your Lit class last semester?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"I saw them talking at a party once."

"Okay. And?"

"And what? That's it."

"That's... all the evidence you have to back up your claim?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

You wave your hands in front of them. "What are you bozos talking about?"

"He’s still trying to figure out who Minho is hooking up with," Seungmin is the one who answers you without missing a beat, then he turns back to Hyunjin. "Anyway, it can't be Nara. She's dating Jaehyun on the basketball team."

The friend next to you flails his arms like a petulant child, like he couldn't have possibly seen this coming, like he was so sure that he had finally solved the mystery. "Great. I'm back to square one again."

You straighten your back and reach for your drink, tentatively gulping down the beverage as if it'll hide the fact that you've gone stiff the second this topic is brought up. You feel bad about it, sure. These are your friends that you're lying to after all. They don't have to look anywhere far; the answer to the secret is right in front of them.

"We're still on about that?" you ask in the calmest, most nonchalant voice you can muster. You usually consider yourself a believable liar (which, to be honest, isn't really a flex at all), but whenever someone mentions this little arrangement between you and Minho that shouldn't be common knowledge for anyone else, you feel like you're been put under a spotlight for the whole world to scrutinize.

"Duh," Hyunjin says. "You know, I'm kinda surprised that you don't know. You two are like, attached at the hip sometimes."

You give him a thoughtless shrug, your hands fiddling with the sticker on the plastic cup as you avoid looking at either of your friends. "Maybe he just wants to keep private things private, y'know? You wouldn't like either if all of us is suddenly all up in your business. And besides, what if it's just casual?"

Hyunjin scoffs. "Please, I'm an open book. I tell you guys everything. I tell you every time I hook up with someone."

"Yeah, but you see, literally no one needs to know that," Seungmin says.

The taller one only scoffs, waving his hands around dismissively in Seungmin's direction before he turns to you. "If it was just casual, would he save her name as - oh my God, I forgot what her contact name is. Freaking bird person or something."

You make a face. "What?"

"Dude, seriously?" Seungmin rolls his eyes. "You forgot one word? Dove? What is the matter with you?"

Perhaps it's the half-hearted teasing judgment in Seungmin's voice that makes Hyunjin take offense and drop the topic. The conversation veers off course when they start bickering like children in the busy cafe. You suppose it works in your favor, but you can't focus. You drown it all out.

Your hand is still on the cup but the sticker has been left alone and forgotten, half peeled off, half still clinging to the plastic underneath the condensation.

The single word repeats itself in your mind, over and over and over again.

The entire time you're in class, you don't really focus on anything. You can't bring yourself to listen to whatever your professor is saying, not after what Hyunjin and Seungmin told you earlier. At some point, your friend has to nudge your shoulder to bring you back down to earth when usually, you're the one who has to remind Hyunjin to pay attention. Class ends soon enough though; time tends to fly by when your mind is lost elsewhere.

"What's wrong with you today?" he asks with his bag slung over his shoulder, slowing down his steps to match your speed as you walk out of the lecture hall together.

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. "Nothing's wrong. I was just tired."

"You wanna grab dinner with me and Felix?"

Any other day, you would've agreed in a heartbeat. But today, you want to be alone. Sometimes, you'd rather wallow in your own misery than settle for a temporary distraction.

You're still stuck on the conversation from earlier, on the small detail that Hyunjin and Seungmin had let slip in the cafe.

Dove.

His dove.

Maybe it doesn't mean anything. Perhaps it's only a nickname that he's assigned to you out of mere platonic fondness, but it makes you conscious about the dove on your own wrist nonetheless, the one that you feel compelled to hide from your friends underneath your long sleeve.

"No, it's okay," you tell Hyunjin. "I'll just go home and sleep it off."

"Okay. I can walk you for a bit," he says. "Just wait with me here. Minho's coming to give me back something he borrowed."

"Minho's coming?" you ask too quickly for it to sound casual. There's a panicked edge that you can hear in your own voice, though you don't think Hyunjin picks it up as he unlocks his phone and types something on the screen.

"Yeah, he was at the library. He's coming over right now, should only be a couple minutes. Then I'll walk back with you."

You shift on your feet uneasily, but you cover it up by rubbing your hands on your arms to pretend like you're just cold. There's no excuse that you could think of that would justify why you can't stand here with Hyunjin for just two more minutes, without giving it away the fact that you're avoiding Minho.

You take in a quiet breath, put on your best brave face. Casual, nonchalant. It's just Minho. Just Minho...

He comes up from behind, where you can't see him. A warm hand gently lands on your shoulder, and it takes everything not to shy away from his touch. It takes even more not to lean into his side.

You've missed it. You've missed him.

"Hey." He smiles at you while Hyunjin only gets a nod in acknowledgment.

"Hey." You return the smile, though you're sure you look a little rigid. You can tell there's an inkling of confusion in his eyes when he senses that your energy is off, but you're thankful he doesn't comment on it, at least not in front of Hyunjin anyway.

You don't notice the paper bag in his other hand until he hands it to your other friend with a simple Thanks, to which Hyunjin just nods along in a silent You're welcome.

"I was going to walk with Y/N for a bit and then meet Felix for food," he tells Minho. "You wanna get burgers with me and Lix?"

"No, thanks. I'm not hungry, I had a late lunch. I'll take the walk though."

You didn't plan on being alone with Minho today, even though you knew you had to talk to him eventually. You just thought you had a little more time, at least until you got your shit together and face him with a brave façade.

Minho's hand brushes yours the entire time you walk, and it's nothing if not confusing. It's unbearable, the way your fingers twitch with the urge to intertwine them with his.

It persists even after Hyunjin has waved you goodbye to you two and turned to head wherever he and Felix agreed to meet. You think Minho would hold your hand now that it's just you and him, but he doesn't. He lets your skin continue to brush, lets you suffer alone and wanting in your sunken disappointment.

It has very little to do with him and everything to do with you, the conflicting thoughts inside your head piling up one by one the more time you spend in his presence.

Dove, the brief display of jealousy at Yeonjun's party, the way he looks at you sometimes that you can't really decipher the meaning behind, how he kisses you so tenderly that it can't possibly be strictly platonic. You want these things to all mean something, and yet...

You want him to hold your hand, but you know you'd wave it off if he tries to reach for your fingers. You want him to stop you right then and there to kiss you breathless, just as he had that night two weeks ago, even though you're sure you'd only dodge his lips and push him away. You want to stay, you want to leave. You're terrified of things changing, but you wish that something, anything, would be different for him; that you aren't the only one who's spinning out of control. You love him, but you wish you didn't.

Eventually, Minho asks, "You okay?"

It's not until now that you realize this is the first time you've ever been this quiet around him. You purse your lips, glancing down briefly at your feet as you keep on treading the rest of the way home. "Yeah, all good. I'm just tired," you tell him, visibly unenthusiastic despite the smile you try to fake. "I just need to sleep it off."

"The project stressing you out?"

"I guess, yeah."

"And here I thought maybe you were avoiding me," he says, half a joke, half inquisitive. "Were you?"

"Was I what?"

"Were you avoiding me?"

You give him a weird look, one that's meant to be dismissive and call his question ridiculous even though you know you've been caught. And maybe it's the over-the-top glance that you throw his way and the way your pitch goes higher when you reply, "Why would I be avoiding you?" that makes him stop walking.

On the other side of the street, there's a couple of kids in high school uniforms, exchanging shy glances and sharing fond giggles.

Minho calls your name softly, and it's like you're just waiting for the ball to drop. You don't want to turn back and look at him, but what other option do you have? What else is there to do?

You can't decipher the expression on his face. He's still calm, but the air has turned serious, the silence of the mostly empty streets surrounding you only serves as the soundtrack of your impending heartbreak. The tender and innocent laughter fades away when young love moves further and further from where you stand. "What?" you ask with faux nonchalance as you look at him, another attempt at stalling. Biding your time even though a few more minutes aren't going to do any good for your case.

Anyone with half a braincell could tell that clearly it's not the truth, let alone someone who has learned to read you better than the back of his hand. He doesn't look like he believes you, though he doesn't push it, much to your surprise.

"Okay," he says after a moment of studying you, and this should be the part where you heave a sigh of relief because he's letting you off the hook for now, but your chest doesn't feel lighter at all. Your head is clouded with dread, with the anticipation that you're only delaying the inevitable.

You walk the rest of the way in awful silence, because you know that he knows something is wrong. You try your best to appear composed, but he sees right through you. You know he does.

You must look like a frightened animal, one that's about to take off running any second now.

When you reach your building, Minho is quick to keep you with him before you can make up a lame excuse and bolt.

"Hey," he starts, his voice so impossibly gentle that it hurts. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Heavier and heavier, it weighs you down until you feel like your chest is going to collapse. The nerves gnaw on you, clawing into you until you feel your heartbeat quicken, the overwhelming dread simmering low in your belly.

"I know," you say, but deep down, what you're really thinking is, Not this. This is the one thing I can't tell you.

"Is everything okay?"

It's the way that Minho's got his gaze set on you with those deep brown irises, the concern so apparent in them that it hurts you. It's the way he looks like he wants to reach out and touch you - a comforting hand on your shoulder or your back like you're so familiar with - but he has to hold himself back or you might slip away.

It's him, how he always puts you first, how he cares about you in ways that you've never been cared about before. He understands you, he sees you. It feels like it could be love if you let the lines blur just enough.

Is love supposed to hurt? Like this?

Maybe it's not that you don't know how to hold love. Maybe it's because you're not meant to hold it at all. Insignificant, unlovable.

And... it's the reminder that cuts through the dread like the sharpest knife.

You leave his question unanswered, because nothing is okay and you can't tell him any of it. You can't lie to him either, because it's the last thing that you want to do to him.

Instead, you ask, "We're good... right? We're okay?"

"What do you mean?"

You gesture between the two of you, though you're not sure what that's supposed to signify. "Just...," you trail off for a second, hesitant. "Nothing's changed, right?"

Minho doesn't answer right away. He looks at you for a moment, searching for something in your eyes that you can't tell if he's able to find.

He nods, seemingly wistful as he says, "Nothing's changed."

He seems unsure about it, at least more than he was just a few weeks ago when he told you the same thing in your apartment with his fingers wrapped around your wrist. The tug between his brows - though barely noticeable - tells you as much.

Is it because something is different now? Or does he only sound uncertain out of concern, because of you and how you're acting?

Then he continues, "For me, at least."

And there it is.

It's the confirmation this time around that turns you inside out so his simple words could cut into you.

You swallow thickly, put on a smile like you're pleased with his answer even though you're trying your hardest to stop yourself from shaking. Whatever energy you had left is instantly drained from you just because of a few words.

Your sentences get smashed together, tangled up like barbed wire and they only make you bleed when you try to pull them apart. All your nervous tics coming out to play despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. A frustrated hand running through your hair, gripping at the roots a little harshly. Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth and your eyes turning glassy for a split second before you blink the moisture away, because you can't let Minho see you like this. See you trying to keep your pathetic heart intact while he's none the wiser.

He's fine. And unlike you, he's going to be okay when this is over.

Unavoidable and inevitable, the end will come whether you like it or not. You're the only one who won't make it out unscathed, and it will only shatter you into more pieces the longer you drag this out.

Just rip the bandaid off. Salvage whatever you can. Stop digging the grave even deeper for yourself.

One second, then two, then three. You don't speak until you have enough faith that your voice is even enough to carry out a few sentences.

"Okay, uhm... I think I need some time for myself. We should..." But it isn't, and you crack halfway through. The sound is deafening to your own ears. "We should take a break. We should stop this."

Minho doesn't question if you mean the secret between the two of you, or your friendship entirely. Instead, he asks, "Why?"

"I told you." You clear your throat. "I need time for myself."

You can't tell what he's thinking, but the knife twists inside of you nonetheless.

He takes a step closer, you take a step back.

You watch as his face falls, and the same feeling mirrors itself within the confines of your ribcage. Your heart drops at the sight of his eyes, deep brown irises stained with a little confusion, then a little hurt though it lasts for only a few seconds. The slight slump of his shoulders, the absence of the familiar playfulness he always sports when he's with you.

He blinks.

"Time for yourself, or time away from me?"

You say nothing.

You don't address his question directly, and your reluctance to do so is a loud enough answer in and of itself. "Why does that matter? What's the difference?"

"It matters if I did something to upset you."

"You didn't."

"Okay. So?"

This is confusing, because he's not letting you rip the bandaid clean off and you don't know why. "Nothing's changed, right? If it didn't mean anything to you, why can't you just drop this?"

Minho is quiet for a beat. His eyes are searching again, but this time, you think he finds something.

Everything is still and you hate it - the silence of the streets, the scrutinizing orange glow of the streetlights as if they're watching the scene unfold, even the innocent cat that's sitting by itself on the balcony on one of the floors higher up. You hate all of it.

"I never said it didn't mean anything," he tells you.

It makes you a little angry for some reason, and there's enough red to cloud your vision because his words are contradicting and you're tired, you're so exhausted that you can't focus on what it is that he's really saying.

"So you lied to me?"

"I've never lied to you."

"I asked you before and you said nothing's changed. Now you're saying whatever this is didn't not mean anything. Make up your mind."

It gets redder when he keeps his eyes fixed on you, still so calm despite the frown that has returned to its place between his brows. Still so collected, while you're being pulled apart at the seams.

The ball doesn't drop the way you expect it to. It keeps falling so insufferably slowly, hanging over you like it's mocking you for being stupid, like it's milking every second of suspense to make you implode.

Until Minho speaks next and suddenly, it feels like the air has been sucked out of your lungs. His voice, still so soft and tender. His eyes, reading something in yours that you can't bear to admit out loud.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 24.06.2024]

[bloodreinasbathwater]

My Sunshine

Jack Hughes X F!Reader

a;n i have been so excited to release this chapter. I really think you guys are gonna enjoy the next chapter of my Sunshine, i rote it when i was sad, so now you guys have to be sad too.

Warnings: pregnancy, arguing, toxic ex-boyfriend, suggestive wording lol, anxiety, fighting

masterlist link / previous chapters

Word Count - 3950

Two weeks later

17:35pm

Jack had just returned home from his snowy mountain vacation with Y/N, feeling lighter than he had in years. As he walked through the front door, the familiar warmth of his family's home enveloped him. His mother, Ellen, came bustling in from the kitchen, a radiant smile on her face.

"Jackie, my darling!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. "We've missed you so much. How was your trip?"

Jack chuckled, returning the embrace. "It was amazing, Mom. Y/N and I had such a wonderful time."

Ellen pulled back, her eyes shining. "Y/N, huh? Is she the special someone you've been telling us about?"

Jack felt a blush creep up his neck. "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you and Dad about. Is he home?"

As if on cue, Jack's father, Jim, stepped into the entryway, a warm smile on his face. "There's my boy!" he said, clasping Jack's shoulder. "Welcome home. How was the trip?"

"It was great, Dad," Jack replied, glancing between his parents. "Listen, I - I've been thinking a lot about the future, and about building a family of my own. Y/N and I, we're getting really close, and I think I'm ready to take that next step."

Ellen's face lit up, and she clasped her hands together excitedly. "Oh, Jackie, that's wonderful news! When do we get to meet this special young lady?"

Jim chuckled, draping an arm around his wife's shoulders. "Slow down, El. Let the boy speak."

Jack smiled, appreciating his father's steady presence. "Well, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you both about. I was hoping you could come over for dinner sometime soon, so you can get to know Y/N better. I - I think I'm going to ask her to be my girlfriend."

Ellen practically squealed with delight, pulling Jack into another hug. "Oh, my darling boy, I'm so happy for you! Of course, we'd love to meet her. And Jim and I have been hoping for grandchildren, you know." She shot a pointed look at Jack's younger brother, Luke, who had just entered the room.

Luke raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, don't look at me. I'm still figuring this whole 'settling down' thing out."

Jim chuckled, giving Luke a playful nudge. "You'll get there, son. But your brother here is taking the plunge. We're proud of you, Jack."

…

20:41pm

Later that night, after his family had finally left, Jack found himself staring at his phone for what felt like the fifth time that day. Still no reply from Y/N. He let out a frustrated sigh, his brow furrowing as he tossed the phone onto the dining table with a little more force than necessary.

What was he doing wrong? Jack wracked his brain, trying to pinpoint where things might have taken a turn. Their trip to the snowy mountains had been absolute bliss - they'd spent their days cuddled up by the fireplace, sipping hot cocoa and talking for hours about their hopes and dreams.

Y/N had seemed so happy, so at peace. He thought for sure that when he got home, he'd be ready to take that next big step and ask her to be his girlfriend.

But now, radio silence. Jack couldn't help the doubts that crept in. Had he come on too strong? Pushed her too hard to commit? His family's eagerness to meet Y/N suddenly felt like too much pressure. Jack grabbed his dinner plate and headed to the sink, scrubbing at the ceramic with more vigor than necessary.

No, he knew in his heart that he hadn't done anything wrong. Their relationship had blossomed so naturally, built on a foundation of mutual trust and respect.

He'd made it abundantly clear that he was pursuing her, that he wanted a future together. So what could possibly be the issue?

Letting out a heavy sigh, Jack shuffled over to his bed, sinking down onto the soft mattress. He stared down at his phone, willing Y/N's name to light up the screen.

Maybe she was just busy - caught up in her writing or dealing with some other personal matter. The rational part of his brain knew he shouldn't jump to conclusions, but the anxious part kept whispering doubts.

Jack flopped back against the pillows, his mind drifting back to their trip. The way Y/N's eyes had sparkled in the soft firelight, the gentle brush of her hand against his as they walked through the snow-covered woods. He'd felt so at peace, so certain that she was the one he wanted to build a life with.

Letting his eyes drift shut, Jack tried to push away the nagging fears. With any luck, he'd wake up to her reply in the morning, and they could figure out whatever was going on.

All he wanted was to have what his parents had - that deep, abiding love and the chance to create a family of his own. But for now, he'd have to wait and see what the future held. Holding onto that hope, Jack felt himself drifting off to sleep, his phone still clutched tightly in his hand.

…

3:34am

Y/N felt the tension coiling in her stomach as she faced off against Jason. The air in her small living room felt thick with his toxic energy, his condescending tone grating on her nerves.

"Come on, Y/N, you know I can be a good father," Jason pressed, his voice dripping with false sincerity as he took a predatory step closer. "Just give me one more chance - I'll prove it to you."

Y/N held her ground, her heart pounding in her chest, her hand instinctively drifting to cover the gentle swell of her belly. Twenty-two weeks pregnant now, a secret she'd been guarding fiercely from the world, still terrified of the reactions she would inevitably face.

The thought of Jason worming his way back into her life, especially now, made her feel nauseous, her insides churning with dread.

"No, Jason. We're done," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the tremble threatening to betray her resolve. "This is my life, my choice. I don't need you in it."

But Jason wasn't one to take rejection lightly. His eyes narrowed into slits, his lips twisting into a cruel smirk that sent shivers down Y/N's spine. "You think you can just shut me out, huh? You're nothing without me, Y/N. Nothing but a scared little girl playing house."

Y/N's jaw clenched, her fists tightening at her sides as she fought to keep her composure. "I'm not scared of you anymore, Jason. I won't let you manipulate me because you’re lonely."

Jason's laughter was like nails on a chalkboard, grating and harsh. “you have no idea what you're getting yourself into. You'll come crawling back to me, begging for my forgiveness, just you wait."

He looked around the living room, his gaze settling on the photo of Y/N and Jack, taken during their blissful mountain getaway. Suddenly, realization dawned on his face.

"Who is that?" he demanded, jabbing a finger toward the image. "Who have you been seeing behind my back?"

Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest as She stared at the photo, at the way Jack's arm was wrapped protectively around her, the adoration in his gaze, and now the image was tainted by the presence of Jason.

She could feel the familiar nausea bubbling up in her stomach, and she instinctively placed a protective hand over her growing belly. Swallowing hard, she turned back to Jason, trying to maintain her composure.

"That's none of your business, Jason," she replied, hating how her voice wavered. "I don't owe you any explanations."

"The hell it's not my business!" Jason exploded, taking another step forward. "You're carrying my child, Y/N. I have a right to know what's going on in your life."

"This baby is not yours, Jason," she spat, the words dripping with venom. "I'm going to raise it on my own, without you."

Jason's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer to her. "Yeah, right. Like hell you are. I'm going to fight for my rights as the father, Y/N. You can't keep me from my own kid. Now I know you've been seeing someone else, Y/N, and I'm not going to just sit back and let you take my child away from me."

Y/N felt the walls closing in, the weight of the situation bearing down on her. She needed to get Jason out of her home, to protect herself and her unborn child.

She felt the tears welling up in her eyes, the stress and anxiety of the situation becoming too much to bear. "Jason, please, just go," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't deal with this right now. I need you to leave, and I need you to leave my baby alone."

Jason opened his mouth to argue further, but the sound of Y/N's phone ringing interrupted him. She glanced down at the screen, her heart leaping as she saw Jack's name. Taking a deep breath, she answered the call, hoping that his soothing presence would be enough to calm the storm that was raging within her.

…

Y/N felt a surge of relief wash over her as she heard Jack's voice on the other end of the line. "Jack, I-I'm so glad you called," she said, her voice quivering with emotion.

"Y/N, sweetheart, are you okay?" Jack's tone was laced with concern. "I just had this feeling that something wasn't right, and I had to check in on you."

Y/N glanced back at Jason, who was pacing the living room, his face twisted in a scowl. "I...I'm not okay, Jack," she admitted, her heart sinking. "My ex-boyfriend, Jason, he's here and he's...he's being so awful."

Jack's response was immediate. "Do you need me to come over? I can be there in no time, just say the word."

Y/N's heart ached at the offer, but she knew she couldn't accept. Not with Jason here and her pregnancy still a secret. "No, no, it's okay," she said quickly. "I just...I needed to hear your voice, that's all."

There was a brief pause, and Y/N could almost feel the concern radiating through the phone. "Y/N, sweetheart, what's going on?" Jack's voice was gentle, soothing. "Please, talk to me."

Y/N took a deep, steadying breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "It's...it's complicated, Jack. Jason...he's been drinking,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. “He's been yelling, saying things I don't want to repeat." She paused, biting her lip as she glanced down at her growing belly. "There's something else, too, but I...I don't know how to tell you."

"Oh, Y/N..." Jack's voice was laced with sympathy. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm here for you, no matter what."

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get the words out, she felt a cold grip on her arm. She gasped, turning to see Jason standing in the hallway, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Who the hell are you talking to? " Jason demanded, his grip tightening painfully on her arm. He glanced at the phone screen and saw Jack's name. "Jack? Who's Jack? You think you can just talk to your little boyfriend behind my back?"

Y/N's heart pounded like a drum in her chest as Jason's grip tightened painfully on her arm. Panic surged through her veins, mingling with a fierce anger. She quickly ended the call, her hands trembling slightly.

"Let go of me, Jason!" she hissed, struggling against his unyielding hold. Her muscles were taut, shoulders hunched defensively.

Jason's eyes narrowed to slits, his face mere inches from hers. His breathing had grown ragged, hot puffs of air hitting Y/N's cheek. "Not until you tell me who this Jack is," Jason hissed.

Y/N's nostrils flared as she glared back at him defiantly. "He's none of your business!" she spat, shoving him away with all her strength. Her chest heaved with each rapid breath. Jason stumbled back a step, but his expression only darkened further.

He stepped back towards her, looming over her petite frame. "You think you can just shut me out, huh?" he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "You're nothing without me, Y/N. Nothing but a scared little girl."

Fury surged through Y/N, her fists clenching at her sides. She grabbed a pillow from the couch and hurled it at him, the fabric billowing through the air. "Get out! Get out of my life!" she screamed, her voice cracking with barely contained emotion.

Jason dodged the projectile, his eyes flashing with unbridled rage. "You think you can get rid of me that easily?" he growled, lunging towards her. Y/N quickly snatched up another pillow, clutching it defensively as her breaths came in ragged gasps.

In a sudden, calculated move, Jason pushed past Y/N and ran into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Y/N stumbled back, heart racing, and immediately started pounding on the door, her fists thudding against the wood. "Open the door, Jason! You can't just barricade yourself in there!" she cried, desperation lacing her voice.

The sound of thunder reverberated through her apartment, mirroring the tumult within her own heart. Jason ignored her, the distinct click of a lock echoing from the other side. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me about jack," he shouted back, voice muffled.

Tears of frustration and fear began to flow freely down Y/N's face as she continued her relentless assault on the door, her fists growing sore from the repeated impacts. "Jason! Open the door and leave! Please just leave," she croaked, the words catching in her throat.

But her pleas fell on deaf ears. Defeated, Y/N slumped to the floor, curling in on herself as the tears streamed down her face. She felt trapped, helpless, and utterly exhausted. Minutes ticked by like hours, the sound of the storm outside mirroring the turmoil inside her.

…

About ten minutes later, a loud knock echoed through the apartment, shattering the oppressive silence. Y/N jolted up from the floor, heart leaping with a glimmer of hope. She rushed to the door and flung it open.

There stood Jack, drenched from head to toe, rain dripping from his hair and clothes. His eyes were wide with worry as he took in the scene before him - Y/N's tear-stained face, the closed bedroom door.

Without a word, he stepped forward and gently gripped her arms, his gaze roving over her features with palpable concern. "Y/N, are you alright? What happened?" he asked, his voice low and soothing, betraying the evident fear in his eyes.

Y/N could only nod mutely, her throat too tight to speak. As Jack's hands moved to tenderly examine her arms, checking for any signs of harm, she found herself at a loss for how to react.

This was the same Jack who had always been there for her, who had cared for her so deeply - and now here he was, standing in the rain, soaked to the bone but unflinching in his concern.

"I heard the yelling, and then you hung up so suddenly," Jack murmured, his gaze searching hers. "I was so worried, Y/N. Please, tell me what's going on. Who's Jason? Did he hurt you?" The questions tumbled out, laced with a palpable fear for her wellbeing.

Y/N swallowed hard, her heart aching at the raw emotion in his voice. "I... I don't know what to say," she whispered, her hands trembling slightly. "Jason, he..." She glanced back at the closed bedroom door, her eyes narrowing in determination. "He's in there.”

Jack's expression hardened, his grip on her arms tightening ever so slightly.

The air crackled with tension as the bedroom door suddenly flew open, revealing a disheveled Jason. His gaze immediately landed on Jack, who had protectively placed himself in front of Y/N. For a moment, Jason simply stood there, eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him.

The sound of the pounding rain outside filled the oppressive silence, a stark contrast to the volatile energy that radiated off the three of them. Slowly, Jason's expression morphed into one of pure, unbridled rage. His fists clenched at his sides as he stepped out of the bedroom, his gaze burning into Jack.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" he snarled, his voice dripping with venom.

Jack didn't back down, squaring his shoulders as he glared back at Jason. "I'm the one who's going to make sure you leave Y/N alone," he growled, his grip tightening protectively around Y/N's arm as he moved to shield her completely.

Jason's eyes flashed dangerously, and he took a menacing step forward. "You think you can just waltz in here and play the hero?" he hissed. "This is between me and Y/N. Stay out of it."

Sensing the impending confrontation, Y/N tried to interject, her voice trembling. "Jason, please, just go. This doesn't have to-"

But Jason cut her off with a harsh laugh. "Shut up, Y/N. You think you can just replace me with this pathetic excuse for a man?" He turned his attention back to Jack, his lips curling into a sneer. "You have no idea what you're up against."

Jack's jaw clenched, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might lunge at Jason. Instead, he stood his ground, his voice low and dangerous. "I know exactly what I'm up against. And I'm not going anywhere until you leave. This is your last warning."

Jason's eyes narrowed, and he took another step forward, his posture challenging. "Or what? You think you can take me on?"

Jack didn't flinch, his gaze unwavering as he stood his ground. "I don't want to fight you, Jason," he said, his voice low and measured.

Jason let out a harsh laugh, his lips curling into a sneer. "You really think you can protect her? I have every reason to be here.” He took another step closer, his movements predatory.

Without warning, Jason lunged forward, grabbing a vase from a nearby table and hurling it at Jack. Jack ducked just in time, the vase shattering against the wall behind him. Jack reacted quickly, ducking and countering with a well-placed jab to Jason's midsection. The force of the impact caused Jason to stumble back, momentarily winded.

Y/N watched in horror as the two men traded blows, their grunts and the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the apartment. She wanted to intervene, to call for help, but her body was paralyzed with fear.

In a sudden burst of adrenaline, Jack planted his feet, bracing himself, and then surged upwards, slamming his shoulder into Jason's midsection. The momentum caught Jason off guard, and he was thrown backward, crashing into the nearby wall.

Jason recovered quickly, his eyes blazing with fury. He surged forward, tackling Jack to the ground and raining down punches. Seizing the opportunity, Jack lunged forward, grabbing Jason by the collar and slamming him against the wall, his forearm pressing against Jason's throat. "This ends now," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Jason's eyes were wild, his chest heaving. "We have a family Jack, we’re supposed to be together. She’s trapped me with for life whether she wants to accept that or not," he hissed, his hands clawing at Jack's arm. "Y/N is mine. She'll always be mine."

"Stop this!" Y/N cried, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

Jack's grip tightened, his face mere inches from Jason's. "She's not yours, and she never will be again," he spat. "Y/N is stronger than you, and she deserves so much better."

Mustering what little strength he had left, Jason suddenly lashed out, his fist connecting with the side of Jack's head. The impact caused Jack to stumble back, momentarily dazed.

Seizing the opportunity, Jason surged forward, shoving past Jack and heading straight for the open front door as he adjusted his clothing.

…

4:27am

Jack winced as Y/N began carefully dabbing at the cut on his cheekbone, her touch feather-light. "I'm so sorry, Jack," she murmured, her eyes full of concern. "I never meant for you to get caught up in this."

Jack reached up, his fingers gently brushing against her arm. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "I'm just glad you're safe." His gaze never left her face, captivated by the way the soft light played across her delicate features.

Y/N bit her lip, focusing intently on the task at hand. As she cleaned the wound, her fingers inadvertently traced the line of his jaw, marveling at the warmth of his skin. Jack's breath hitched at the intimate touch, and he found himself leaning ever so slightly into her hand.

The air between them crackled with unspoken emotion, a charged energy that seemed to hum in the small space. Y/N's heart raced, her eyes darting up to meet Jack's, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Slowly, almost instinctively, Jack reached up and gently cupped Y/N's face, his thumb caressing her cheek. "You don't have to apologize," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'd do anything to keep you safe."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her hands coming to rest on his chest. She could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat, a comforting rhythm that seemed to steady her own. "Jack," she breathed, her eyes shining with a newfound vulnerability.

Cautiously, Jack leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. Their noses brushed, and Y/N could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips, sending a shiver down her spine. In that moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving them suspended in a private bubble of tenderness and unspoken affection.

Y/N's fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, and she closed her eyes, savoring the intimacy of their embrace. She felt safe, cherished – a feeling she hadn't experienced in far too long. And as Jack's arms wrapped around her.

She nestled closer, her head coming to rest against his chest, and let out a soft, contented sigh.

Jack tightened his hold ever so slightly, his chin coming to rest atop her hair. He could feel the tension slowly ebbing from her body, the initial fear and panic giving way to a fragile vulnerability. Gently, he began to trace soothing circles on her back, his touch feather-light.

"I've got you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're safe now, Y/N."

Slowly, she pulled back just enough to gaze up at him, her eyes shining with a tentative trust. "Thank you, Jack," she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "For being here, for... for everything."

Jack's heart swelled at her words, a tender smile playing on his lips. He reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingertips grazing her cheek. "Always, Y/N," he murmured. "I'll always be here for you."

Y/N felt a warmth blossom in her chest, and without thinking, she rose up on her tiptoes, pressing a featherlight kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Jack's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in surprise. For a moment, he was frozen, captivated by the warmth of her touch, the intimacy of the gesture. Then, almost instinctively, he cupped her face, his thumb tracing the delicate curve of her cheekbone.

Slowly, reverently, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a tender, unhurried kiss. It was a silent promise, a testament to the depth of his feelings - a promise to always be her anchor, her safe haven, in the storm.

When they finally parted, both were breathless.

"Come to bed with me Jack..."

…

Tag List <3

@fearfam69691, @alwaysclassyeagle, @rebelatbay, @dancerbailey3, @skepvids, @urbanflorals, @hischierswhore, @literatureluster, @voidohanax, @ivy-34, @bunbunbl0gs, @snailss, @ru-kru, @shawnshoney

[xan-izme]

Double Life: 6 (ATSV x reader x Batfam)

Summary: Can't have family dinner without a little family drama

Part 5 Part 7

You and Redhood were currently having a standoff.

You were freaking out a little. Because how long was he standing there? Watching you. . . did he see you use the watch for the portal? how much does he know now? He knows your Spider-woman. This wasn't supposed to happen. Spider-woman was supposed to be dead. Gone.

All of this was going through your mind.

Redhood on the other hand, just didn't like another vigilante doing their business here. Whatever shit he just saw go down, didn't need to be here in Gotham.

"So, you're going to tell me what you're doing here in Gotham? or do I have to put a built in ya for you to talk."

You can tell he isn't bluffing. You've done some research on the vigilantes of Gotham. And Redhood, is known to be one of the most violent ones. You must be cautious.

"Not here to fight. Was just taking care of my own problem." You put your hands up in the air to show you're not causing any harm. But Redhood still kept the gun pointed at you. Walking even more closer to you.

"Whatever problem you have here at Gotham. Is mine as well." Redhood kept a mental note to report this back to Bruce. As Redhood came closer to you. He saw a chip on the ground. An odd looking one.

You mentally curse as you watched Redhood pick up the chip the green goblin anomaly had dropped. You can't risk it being in Redhood's hands right now. You used your web shooter to retrieve the chip.

"This is mine." You stuffed it in your pocket. Redhood frowns. "What's in the chip." He still had the gun pointed to you.

"That's for me to worry about. So, how about we just, go our separate ways and-" Before you can finish your sentence. There was a large explosion at the side of the building. Causing you to fall on your knees and dropping the chip.

"What the hell?" Redhood mumbled. Once he heard multiple gunshots going off, that's when he remembered what he was really here for. He got so distracted he forgot about a gang deal that he was supposed to stop. He cursed under his breath and quickly ran to the window and jumped out of it.

You sighed and was about to just leave this to Redhood. This was his city after all. And he didn't seem to kind on newcomers. But you heard the multiple gunshots and shouting. That sounds like a lot of people. And he's just one man. . .

Redhood was taking cover behind a car. He had already taken down ten guys. But there were a lot more left. He peeks out from behind the car. Trying to come up with a plan to deal with the many more gang members.

Suddenly, you come swinging down with a . . . log? what the hell. where the hell did you get a log?

He watched in utter disbelief as you knocked out a good number of gang members You made your witty comments as you casually roasted the gang members about their hair, tattoos and poor outfit choices.

You were able to buy Redhood some time to get to the leaders of the two gangs. You distracted the gang members as Redhood easily fought his way through to get to the gang leaders who were trying to get away.

Redhood put the leaders down and tied them up. Whilst you had already tied up the other gang members. Redhood turned around, and saw you were already climbing back into the building.

You were in the building. With a silver suitcase that belonged to one of the gangs. You had an odd feeling about it and snatched it. As you opened it, your surprised to see Alchemax tech.

What the hell is Alchemax tech doing all the way here in Gotham. Whatever it is, it's not good. You quickly closed the case and had already decided to take it back home with you.

Before you could leave the building. You heard another shot ring throughout the building. A built was shot to the wall next to you, causing you to stop in your tracks. You slowly turn around to see it was Redhood.

"That case doesn't belong to you." Redhood spoke to you aggressively. Which you fully understand. But he doesn't understand the dangers of what was in this case. and you couldn't explain it to him.

"Sorry buddy. But this is coming with me. You understand right?" You don't even wait for an answer "Ah, knew you'd understand. Thanks!" You quickly dashed out of the room. You hear Redhood following.

Right before you could use your web to get out, Redhood tackles you.

You two fight and struggle to get the case from one another. suddenly, as he ripped the case away from you, he took of your makeshift mask that covered your face.

. . . .

You stayed silent as you realized he has seen your face. You frown, deeply upset about this situation.

"Damn, you're just a kid." Redhood huffed out as he gripped onto the case.

You were upset with the turn of events here, and used both of your webs and shot them at him. Using your supper strength and pulling hard, causing him to stumble, and for his own mask to fall off.

You yanked the mask towards you and held it. Giving him a cheeky grin. "Look, now we're even." You then see his face, and how angry he looks. He looks young too, has to be in his early to mid 20's. and then you see part front of his hair that looked dyed white. You were about to make a snarky comment about it. Then suddenly, you two hear sirens. The cops. For that quick split moment that Redhood was distracted, you threw his mask/helmet at him, he caught it with both hands, causing him to let go of the case.

You used your web shooter and was able to quickly get your hands on the case. You grabbed your mask and quickly slipped it on and ran out of Redhood's sight.

You safely made it home. You stored the case in your secret hiding spot in the bathroom. You gave a quick report on your watch and sent it to HQ.

This isn't good. Redhood saw your face, and you saw his. But that doesn't secure anything. But what worried you most, was Alchemax. Alchemax gave you a hard time in New York. Their, on the low schemas and collaborating with other big-time criminals for more experiments that hurt not only animal subjects, but humans as well. You had to get in touch with Miles and your uncle Aron to inform them of this situation.

As you were in deep thought. A knock was heard at your door. Then you hear Damian's voice.

"Y/n? father wants to make sure you're ready for tonight's dinner." He spoke from the other side of the door.

You let out a deep sigh. Sitting on your bed. So much has happened today. From your panic attack earlier this morning to this moment now. That you had completely forgotten about the dinner.

"Yeah, be done in five." You responded with a very noticeable tired tone. Damian nods to himself. "Okay." And with that, Damian left to meet up with Alfred and his father downstairs. Damian isn't all too happy about seeing Jason. And just hopes Jason will act properly and not make you upset during dinner time.

Bruce had bought you another dress, it was nice and loos and kind of made you look younger. Probably due to the designed. Your hair was let down. You were fidgeting with your bracelet. A little nervous to meet this Jason guy. Your already on good terms with the others, you just hope not to make a bad impression. You were told Jason is a little complicated, so you had to be cautious.

You left your room and bumped into Tim. You and Tim began to have small talk about random things. He mainly asked you what you were more interested besides from video games and your deep interest in Geology.

As you and Tim talk while walking downstairs. Damian was able to slip into your room without anyone's knowledge.

Damian made a beeline for your desk. He searched your desk. Finding mainly schoolwork paper, and some old receipts, which he found off, why did you still have old receipts?

His eyes shifted to your small trash can. And here he sees the crumbled up note you threw away from before. He picked out the note and opened it up.

Call if you need help.

-Miguel

Damian began to wonder who this Miguel person was. With the way you acted when you read the note, you and Miguel don't seem to be on good terms. Mainly you not being friendly to the thought of him. Damian slipped the note in his chest pocket and left your room quietly.

Everyone was downstairs at the dining room table. Dinner was served, but Jason hadn't arrived yet. You were sat next to Bruce who was at the head of the table on your left. And Tim being at on your right, Damian sat across from you, Dick being next to Damian.

"Jason's late." Bruce sighed out under his breath. He looked at you with an apologetic expression. But you just smile, before you could say anything. Damian scoffed.

"What did you expect. That big oaf can't be held accountable for these events. Won't be surprised if he doesn't arrive at all."

"Damian." Dick seemed to not like what Damian said.

Just from this. You know that Damian isn't fond of Jason. But then again, Damian isn't fond of anyone that much.

"Y/n, your aunt called. She said there was a party for your uncle she wanted you to attend." Bruce changed the subject. You paused from the change of subject.

Before you could speak, your cut off once again. The door opens, and in comes Alfred. "Master Jason has arrived." Alfred steps to the side and your heart drops.

Jason. . . Redhood is Jason!?

You and Jason just stare at each other, wide eyed.

"Jason, your late." Bruce sighed out. Jason just kept staring at you. A lot going through his mind right now. You began to get nervous and very anxious. You avoided eye contact with Jason and took a sip of your water.

Jason frowns and took his seat. "Traffic." Was all he said as he sat next to Dick. Bruce began to introduce you to Jason in a more formal way.

Jason just stared at you and leaned back in his chair. "You're Y/n?" Jason spoke with dismay. You set your cup down and gave him a strained smiled. "Yes."

It was silent for a moment, only the silverware clicking against the plates could be heard. Then Bruce decided to continue speaking with you. "Anyways, Y/n. The party your aunt wants you to attend."

"Yeah, my uncle was promoted to captain." You took a sip from your water, still feeling Jason staring at you.

"That's good. How long has your uncle been in the police force?" Bruce asked as he was cutting up his stake.

"Almost 15 years I think." You're not fully sure. You just know your uncle Jeff was a police man for a long time.

Jason lets out a loud hum. "Your uncles a police man. . . interesting." You looked at Jason. The two of you make eye contact. You let out a small, forced smile to Jason. Jason doing the same to you.

There was a clear tension between you and Jason. He knows your secret, and you know his. The question is, who has more to lose?

[madamechrissy]

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - This chapter-cunnilingus, fingering, overstim, spitting (it's Toji so that's its own warning lol)

ꕥ Word Count- 6,239 

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip. You just gotta hope your dad doesn't find out. Masterlist

ꕥ Chapter 1

Spring break was finally here, and you were blissfully Netflix binging with your favorite plushie, back at home to visit. You enjoy getting away from the craziness of the dorms and partying. You start to doze off just a bit, when an unexpected knock on the door jolts you like a shot of espresso. You roll off the couch and stumble over to the peephole, squinting to make out the blurry figure on the other side.

Fucking Toji Fushiguro!?

The last thing you expect to see is your dad's best friend, Toji Fushiguro, standing there with a duffel bag slung over his broad shoulder as you open the door. A smirk on his face, not quite meeting the scar on the corner of his lip. He’s in a skin tight spandex black shirt and loose gray gym shorts, that reveal literally everything on his muscular body.

Fuck.

You know Toji from the many times he's visited over the years, since you were a kid, his laugh echoing through the house, his deep voice telling stories that make your dad's eyes light up. The two of them heading off to horse races and bringing you along still burns in your memory, of Toji giving you sips of beer as a teen, he had been like the cool ‘uncle’ type.

But seeing him here, now, after not seeing him since you were barely eighteen? So like, almost three years… it’s doing insane things to your sleepy mind. He's got that kind of presence, a man who fills up a room just by existing. You've heard the whispers about him, that he’s a whole man whore, you’d heard he was a complete asshole in fact… but he looks so fucking…

“Oi little doll, just gonna stand there, hmm?” His deep voice breaks you out of your reverie, you yawn a bit, wiping the sleep from your eyes and tugging open the door.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m so tired. Hey Toji.” Toji's grin is wide and easy, but there's something in his eyes, when they look you up and down, and you realize you’re wearing a cropped tank and fucking hello kitty shorts.

"Hey, kiddo," He says, ruffling your hair like you're still eight years old. "Surprise! Your old man said I could crash here for the week."

Your dad, Shiu, ever the enabler, appears from the kitchen with two beers in his hands, grinning at you both. “Toji fucking Fushiguro! It’s been ages.”

Toji places his bag down on the couch, popping open the beer and drinking it then, you watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, studying those veins on his stupidly strong neck that pop out. “Shiu! Ah, so good. Missed you, fucking dick.”

“Fucker.” They play fight, like they’re children and not like forty, well your dad is in his forties. Toji was like almost forty? You think… he hadn’t ever changed though, he looks the damn same, just bulkier.

He swipes his hair, you notice the inky black locks are in a bowl cut now, and it flatters his angled face. He looks over at you now. “Spring break is here, so she’s staying for the week.” Shiu says, coming up and putting an arm around you.

“Not partying? No Cabo? Cancun?” You shake your head.

“Not her thing. She’s a good kid.”

“Not a kid, dad. I just turned twenty one.”

“Still a kid.” He pats your head too, and you realize just how damn short you are, your dad is well over six foot and so is Toji.

“Well, can the kid have a beer?” Toji asks, winking at you with a crooked grin, his scar made it that way, and it’s even more attractive.

“She knows she can. Do you want one, angel?” You nod, and your dad looks surprised for a moment, then he heads and grabs you one too, handing it to you. You take a sip of it, humming a bit.

“It’s not bad.”

“She’s growing up on me, Toji.” Toji smirks again, dark green eyes digging into you, like they’re looking right through your outfit.

“Hello Kitty shorts though? Nah, still a fucking kiddo.” You glare, and your dad laughs.

“Fuck you, Toji.”

“Oh! She got that mouth huh?”

Your dad snorts in laughter. “She takes after her mom.”

“Fuck where’s she been?” They go back to talking, and you huff a bit, heading off to the couch, sipping on the drink and texting your best friend Nobara.

You: Fucking Toji is here. Ugh.

Nobara: Oh shit, hot DILF Toji? Gumi’s dad!?

You: That’s the one. I’m in Hello Kitty shorts, KILL ME.

Nobara: Aw bet you’re cute though!

You: How is Florida?

Nobara: So fun babe, wish you were here! But shit… actually Yuuji is puking now omg. Drank too much!

You: Oh no, please be safe!

Nobara: Don’t worry, no one is driving. K, gotta deal with this, you know… you’ve been a virgin a long time, yeah?

You flush.

You: Nobara wtf!

Nobara: Would be a hell of a first time babe.

You: Oh God what? He’s… I… Shit, really Nobara!!

Nobara: Bet he can throw it down. Gotta go baby!

You: Text me later!

You start reading some story you’d been reading earlier, but it’s pure fucking smut, and now you feel it, tightness and pressure in your tummy. As you peek over and watch Toji out back, the patio doors open, standing over by the pool. Your dad is showing him all his cool things he’s put up in the backyard, and your throat goes dry when Toji lifts his shirt.

Just for a fucking moment, to wipe the sweat off his face, but… his body is chiseled within every inch of your life. He has more muscle in like one abdominal than your thighs, which were decently muscular from working out on the weekends with Nobara, Kickboxing.

But his abs…

You eye the V cuts, and then suddenly his eyes catch yours. Your dad is just blabbering away, and Toji just looks at you, and it’s so different. Yeah, he’d looked at you a bit as a teen, but he never crossed a line with those looks. He’d say you were pretty or something but…

Now you’re grown.

He winks at you, the fucker winks!

You run off to your room, peering at yourself in the mirror, and then eagerly stripping off your clothes, your damn shorts were soaked from just looking at Toji’s damn muscles, at the outline of his cock in his shorts. You weren’t even someone who really looked at men like that, mostly you kept your head in school and romance novels that ruined you for men.

Toji was no romance guy.

You hear a knock, and freeze. “Getting dressed!” You call out, and hear a deep little laugh.

“Ah, your dad said he’s grilling out and wants to know if you want anything?” Toji’s voice comes, you hear the door creak a bit with his weight, he’s leaning on it isn’t he?

“Ah… I’m fine with chicken or whatever. I’m getting in my bikini.” You flush then, why were you telling him?

“Your bikini hmm.” The way he purrs his damn words. “Noticed you’ve filled out quite a bit, doll.”

You glare then, at the door, he can’t see you, but you’re sliding on a sunflower bikini, one of your old ones, and sure enough, your tits are nearly falling out. SHIT. Why didn’t you bring one? You sigh, looking for another, and it’s Hello Kitty. It’s a little bigger, so you’re stuck with it, but your breasts are spilling out of this one too, at least it’s not full underboob though.

You hitch up the bottoms, a little tight, as for some reason you blossomed in late high school, you hadn’t had hips till recently, now they were in sharp contrast to your smaller waist. They go over decent, digging in just the tiniest bit, you frown as you realize they’re making your hips squish, and you pop a couple stitches.

“Everything okay, doll?” You gasp.

“You’re still there!?”

“Hmm, I’m curious to see this bikini. Is it Hello Kitty too?” You scowl, realizing you were just gonna have to pour out of this damn Hello Kitty suit, hoping it would loosen up in the pool a bit.

You stomp over, grabbing a hair tie, and opening the door, he pauses then, and there is no more smirk, there’s pure fucking hunger. He leans back, so tall over you, shadows casted along the sharp planes of his handsome face, eyes glittering when they go to your breasts, and you suddenly feel..

Powerful?

The fuck?

“It’s Hello Kitty.” You grumble, then you put your hair up, right in front of him, tits bouncing in the top. He grips the door frame so hard you see his knuckles whiten, as his lips, glossy, part slightly.

“Well, fuck .” Is all he manages, and you smirk then, to shut up someone like Toji? Yep, an accomplishment.

“It’s from high school, I’ve gained a little since then.” You mumble, and his eyes slowly trail down your body.

“It's all in just the right places, ‘ma.”

“It’s all the ramen.” You tease, he snorts at that, rolling his eyes, and you peer down his body too, then pause, when you see it.

His cock outline.

Shit.

He notices your eyes, but rather than hide it, he steps closer, just grinning down at you. “Something got your eye, doll ?”

“Something got your eye, old man?” He laughs darkly, taking your ponytail out of your hair then.

“Sure the fuck does. Filled out was an understatement.” He murmurs, then yanks your hair just a bit. “Turn around, your ponytail looks like shit.”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes, turning, but then when his big hands are in your hair, pulling it, you feel wetness start in your eyes and between your thighs. “Need a hair brush or something?”

“Or something.”

“Let go.” He does, and you walk over to your dresser, this man follows you, and your eyes meet his in the mirror, he’s so tall, so big and broad compared to you, it dwarfs you. And it’s…

Hot as fuck.

“Gimme that, brat.” He chides, yanking your brush, you scowl at his reflection, he just smirks. “Still cute as fuck when you’re all angry.”

“Shut up, old man.”

“Old man, huh?” You cross your arms, but your eyes close in pleasure as he brushes your hair, oddly very gentle. “Open those eyes, doll.”

“Why?” You do so then, as he’s tied your hair up in a high bun, all poofy, and then he leans forward, pressing you against your dresser, and you feel him, hard and hot on your mid back. You gasp, eyes rushing to him in the reflection, and he’s got his chin resting against your shoulder, whispering in your ear.

“I look fucking old to you, doll?” You shake your head then, and he inhales your neck, like some freak. “You smell so damn good. Bet you taste even f’king better, hmm?”

“Shit.” Is all you manage, a whole whine, as he inhales further, then he freezes as your dad shouts from downstairs.

“Yeah, shit.” You turn and watch him adjust himself, blinking rapidly, he just raises his brows. “Tucking it in the waistband.”

“In your waistband? How…”

“How big am I? Doll, what would Daddy say if he knows his daughter is asking such a slutty fuckin question, hmm?” You shove at him then, hands on his stupidly muscular chest, he just laughs.

“Not even close to a slut, old man. I’m a… you know, fuck you.” You push him more and he pauses.

“C’mere, doll, don’t be all sad and shit.” He pulls you a bit, you just smack at his hands. “I said slutty question. It’d be hot if you were a slut f’me but I don’t think you’re a slut.”

“You’re a slut I hear.”

He snorts at that. “I have been a slut. How many college boys have…”

“None. Okay?”

He pauses, brows raised, then his eyes narrow, looking down at you, tilting your chin up. “You lookin’ like that, and no one has tried to eat this pussy or nothing?”

“Eat this… yeah, no. Nothing. I could if I wanted!”

“Well no fucking shit, looking like Playboy magazine.”

“You’re so old, Toji. No one jerks off to magazines.”

“I would jerk off to just a fucking selfie in this.” You gasp again, and your dad is shouting once more. “Fuck, let’s go.”

He grabs your arm and you hate how good that big grip feels, so you smack his arm away, shoving past him and walking down the stairs.

“That ass nice too, doll.” He purrs, catching up, and you smack at him more, he seems to take it with amusement, your dad catches you two, laughing a bit then.

“Nothing’s changed, huh? You smacking Toji and wearing Hello Kitty.” Toji and him both laugh and you roll your eyes.

“I’m grown, thank you!”

“Mmhmm, sure doll. Learn how to swim?”

“I… shut up!”

They laugh more, and play some music that you actually like from their college days, but you wouldn’t admit it. You help your dad start to cook then, and offer to chop veggies and make a pasta salad, getting you away from them. You all have an outdoor kitchen, your dad invested a ton in his home, so different than your itty bitty dorm with your air fryer and burner.

You kinda missed home.

Soon, your dad has more of his old friends come over, and they’re all getting quite tipsy, grilling out and arm wrestling? Men.

Toji’s eyes never leave you though, even as you try to ignore him, and you catch him looking, and when you do, instead of looking away, he just fucking grins over at you. You hate it, but fuck it feels good…

The night wears on, and the air gets heavier with the scent of BBQ and alcohol, and some of the men are finally leaving, your dad is thoroughly sauced and high as fuck, so you end up helping him to bed, leaving water and tylenol by it. Toji leans in the doorway, smiling at you.

“You’re a good kid.” You sigh, kissing Shiu’s forehead, then shutting off the lamp and walking out, gently clicking the door, leaving you and Toji alone.

“I try to be. How’s your kid doing?”

Toji pauses for a moment, sighing. “Last he wrote me he’s visiting Florida, with his friends.”

“Yeah that’s what I heard too.” Toji hadn’t been in Megumi’s life until he was in high school, though he’d been your dad’s friend much longer, it was a complicated relationship. Toji took a long fucking time to grow up you could say.

“Why didn’t you go with? Aren’t you all friends?” He asks, and you sigh, walking past him and to the fridge, you’re hot and sweaty from being outside all day, and you never did get in that pool.

“I am a little boring, I guess. I like to come home on breaks and relax, read a book or something. I don’t know. I don’t have dad’s adventurous streak. You want me to mix a drink?” You stand up and gasp a bit when you see him leaning back against the counter.

He’s got his fucking shirt half off as he wipes his face with it again, you are up close with his ridiculously chiseled body. You see each ab glistening with sweat, and you’re half tempted to lick it off, an obscene, stupid thought. Toji’s grinning at you now, making you flush.

“How virgin are you? Ain’t seen a naked man, doll?” You glare.

“Of course I have. I just… you work out too much.” He snorts in laughter at that, sighing.

“You making a drink or what, doll?”

“Why do you call me that? So annoying. Old man.” You bust out the vodka then, and sprite, putting in a little grenadine and cherries. He looks at it like it’s fucking awful, scowling at it, you scowl at him. “What?”

“What kinda little bitch drink is this shit?” You snort, stirring it, and handing it to him. “It’s fucking pink!”

“Aww, don’t want my cherry huh?” You tease, and then gasp at yourself, covering your mouth with your hand. “Ignore that, please.”

“Uh-uh. I’ll show you what I’d do with that, doll.” He leans over then, taking a cherry out of the cup and biting it. How the fuck was everything he did so fucking obscenely sexual? Then, he puts the stem in his mouth, in you feel your entire body overheat.

“Wh… wha?” You can’t manage to speak or think, as Toji moves the stem around in his mouth, concentrated look on his face, thick brows drawn together. Then, there it is, tied into a damn knot, he sticks it out, holding it by his teeth. You nearly fall the hell over, catching yourself on the counter. “Did you just…”

“Sure did, now what were you running that mouth about?” He hands you the stem, and you’re just bright red, red as the damn maraschino cherry. You sigh, taking it and looking up at him, eyes wide, his eyes were narrowed, sliding down your body leisurely.

“You talk a lot of shit, Toji. Try the drink, it's yummy.” He snorts, taking a sip of it, making a little face.

“Damn, it is good.”

“See!” You make yourself a drink as well, then head outside, and fucker follows you out. “Shouldn’t you get some sleep?”

“I’m not tired. Isn’t it past your bedtime kid?”

“Fuck off Toji.” You sigh, getting in the pool, shivering a bit as the cool water laps over your body, bringing goosebumps, making your breasts taut, nipples tightening in the spandex of your bikini. When you lean over the pool wall, you see him, taking his damn shirt off, your throat goes dry, at his ridiculous muscles, every fucking inch of him.

He hops in the pool, diving in the deep end, and swims across and back in just a minute, before pinching you under the water, swimming up and grinning. You splash water at his face, and he picks you up, literally tossing you, you come up sputtering, and he’s got his shit eating grin.

“Fucking dick! Ugh.” You brush your soaking wet hair out of your face, splashing on him again, he laughs, and then yanks you up, carrying you deeper. You freak out then, clinging to him. “No, no!”

“Need to learn to swim, brat. Uncle Toji will teach you.”

“Gross, don’t call yourself that, yuck!” He laughs a bit, and you’re gripping his neck with your arms, legs wrapping around his hips as he walks further, where you sure the hell can’t stand. “Toji, shit!”

“Stop freaking out, would ya? Can’t handle you wiggling on me like that, fuck.” His voice gets hoarse, whispering in your ear, you tremble in his hold, leaning back then, realizing what was happening.

His dark green eyes hit yours, little reflections of light from the pool waving, showing on his handsome features, and you feel it, your pussy throbbing, pressed against him like this. You want to scooch away, but his grip on your hips is tight, bruising, fingers pressing in deep.

“Want me to teach ya, brat?” You shake your head.

“Nope sure don’t. I will just stay over in my shallow end. Now, take me back, big brute.” He laughs at you, husky and deep.

“You’re so demanding. Nah, doll, I think you need a lesson.” You freak out more now, as he keeps walking you, you cling to him tighter. “Maybe not a swim lesson though, feels like that cunt wants a different lesson.”

“The fuck, Toji!” You gasp, looking at him, and now he’s got you pressed against the pool wall, one arm gripping your thigh, the other resting on the other side of your head, pressing harder against you, then you feel it… “Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.” He whispers, sliding you down his hips, until the huge outline of his cock presses against your pussy in your bikini bottoms, making you pulse around absolutely nothing. He groans, leaning down then. “Your cunt is burning hot, doll.”

“That’s not… it’s just…” You trail off, and suddenly, whether it’s sexy ass Toji, your drinks, or years of being a virgin, you say fuck it, and rub against him, he hisses, holding you still for a moment. You smirk. “You’re the one rock hard. For your best friend’s kid huh?”

He licks his lips, stopping on that scar, and you want to fucking lick it too, as he pushes against your cunt under the water, leaning his face so close you can taste the liquor on his breath.

“You ain't a kid anymore, doll. Whole fucking woman.” He slides his hand up, cupping one of your breasts, you can’t stop the whimper that comes out. “Making those sounds just from this? How desperate are you f’me brat?”

“Not at all, you’re the one hard from just this.” You wiggle again, and he groans, slamming you hard against the wall. You feel a strange wicked thrill at it, grinning then, seeing you have power over this… fucking god of a dude. “Aw, Toji, is it the Hello Kitties turning you on?”

“Fuckin’ brat. I should shut this mouth up.” He leans down then, and pauses there, and you pause. That line?

Crossed.

When he slams down his mouth on yours, it’s nothing like you’ve ever felt, not the sweet kisses from Yuuji when you both were in school, the passionate cute kisses from your ex Yuta, both of whom you never went too far with. That was about the limit of your experience, and now… Toji owns you, his tongue hot and sloppy as it pushes the seams of your lips open.

You gasp, and he takes that as an entrance, now dominating your mouth, sucking on your tongue, flicking around it over and over, his hand grabbing one of your breasts, squishing it roughly in his big hand. You cry out, tongue rubbing against his, fighting with it, he bites the fuck out of your lower lip, now his fingers pinch your taut nipple, making you arch your back.

“Taste so fuckin good.” He whispers, pulling back, bending down and licking a trail to your chest, yanking the top down, revealing one of your breasts, he licks his lips, hungry. “Perfect fuckin tits.”

“Mmh…” Is all you manage, and he looks up at you.

“Anyone sucked on these yet, pretty little doll?” You sigh, shaking your head, and he chuckles, lifting your tits and squishing them together, pulling both out. “It’s my lucky fuckin’ day then.”

“I… Toji! ” You whine it out softly, and then his mouth is on them, sucking one pretty peak into his mouth, then the other, back and forth between them, then biting your nipple hard. “Ah! Fuck…”

“You sure like that, don’t you doll? Wearin’ shit like this, like you want me to fuckin stare.” You tense, shaking your head. “No? You don’t like me starin’?”

“Shut up, Toji.” You whisper, he bites your nipple hard then, and you feel wetness hot and sticky against your bikini, grinding on him, making him moan.

“Shut up? You’ve got a bad little mouth, brat. Should shut it the fuck up.” He takes his hand, finding you, over your bottoms, and you moan outright, and his rough touch, pushing up into your hood, where your clit is throbbing for him. You cry out, and he moans. “Why ya sounds s’fuckin sexy for?”

“Toji…” You whine out the words, pathetic.

"I want to hear you say it, doll. Tell me what you need."

You swallow hard, the words sticking in your throat. "I… I need…"

Toji doesn't wait for you to finish. He presses his mouth to yours again, his tongue delving deeper, as his fingers find the wet heat between your legs. His touch is rough, calloused fingers pressing hard, up and down your folds, but it’s oh so good, and you can't help but moan into his mouth.

"You're so fucking wet f’me," He murmurs, his voice a gravelly growl that sends shivers down your spine. "Do you want me to make you cum, doll?"

“I… fuck…” You can’t say it, you can’t.

“Want me to eat that little pussy out, doll?” He’s kissing you, so fucking sloppy, as you helplessly grind against his fingers, gasping when he slides one in, so goddamn thick it hits some spot that makes you nearly black out. He groans. “So goddamn tight, this little cunt just screaming for Toji.”

“How… in a pool… eat…” He chuckles at your helplessness, crooking that thick long finger in your dripping cunt, walls tightening around the invasion, and he begins to fuck you with it, in and out, till your mouth is dropped open.

“Not in the pool, doll. C’mon.” He’s hoisting you up on the pool wall then, and you nervously look at his gorgeous muscular body, dripping with all the pool water falling in rivulets. He grins, that scar making him look even hotter. Your cunt is pathetically wet from him.

“T-Toji…” You whisper.

“T-Toji…” He mocks, and you glare, standing on shaky legs, backing up, but he follows you, wet body dripping onto the concrete beneath you, until he’s got you picked up, your cold, wet skin against his somehow burning skin.

“We’ll get caught, idiot!” You hiss, and he just grins, picking you up, grabbing your ass and wrapping your thighs around his hips.

“Keep that mouth quiet. Not gonna fuck you… yet. Just eat this little pussy out, make ya cum all over my face.” He’s got you in your room way too quickly, and he’s stripped your bathing suit top, untying it, tits bouncing out to his hungry eyes. He moans at the sight.

“Toji…” You cover yourself for a minute, then he yanks your hands down, cupping your lush breasts in his big fucking hands.

“Perfect fucking tits. So fucking perfect.” He moans, shoving you on your childhood bed then, it creaks as he does with the springs bouncing you, and his mouth is trailing down your still damp tits, lavishing a nipple with a hot kiss.

“Fuck!” You cry out, gripping his damp hair, and he looks up at you, as he’s swirling his tongue around one of your peaks.

“Need ya to shut up, doll, don’t need your dad seeing you like this.” You flush at the thought, biting your lower lip to suppress a moan as he sucks on your other nipple now. “Mmm, would love to hear ya call me daddy.”

“You’re nasty as fuck, old man.” He growls then, sliding a hand up your throat then, taking two fingers and opening your lips wide.

“Nasty huh? Was being sweet with ya. I’ll show ya a little nasty then, pretty little fucking slut.” You gasp, but then he’s spitting in your mouth, his handsome face in a stupidly happy grin, and you stay there, mouth wide open. “Swallow that, doll.”

You stay there, stupidly open, but then he shoves your mouth closed, and his fingers open your mouth again, repeating, all while his other hand slides to your cunt, dripping wet and sticky against your bikini. You cry out, and he’s spitting in your mouth, dragging it along your lips, before shoving his fingers in, nearly choking you as they shove down your throat.

“Suck these, little girl.” He’s licking his lips as you do, gripping his wrist, swirling your tongue along his thick digits and bobbing your mouth up and down. “Good girl, such a good girl f’me.”

“Mmmnh…” You moan around his fingers, as his words make it worse, then he’s got your bottoms off in one quick motion, down your trembling thighs, and he’s shoved those two fingers you sucked in deep, making you scream.

“Shut the fuck up, doll.” He orders, and you cover your mouth, struggling as he’s scissoring you with his fingers, scooching you up the bed, until he’s between your thighs, spreading them, salivating. “Jesus fucking… got the most perfect little fucking cunt I’ve ever seen.”

“You… hmm… like? I…” You can’t fathom a word, and he grins, kissing the insides of your thighs, spreading 'em, dark eyes drinking in your pussy, spreading the puffy lips wide and spitting on her, landing on your clit.

“Such a perfect little pussy, doll. So fuckin’ pretty. Look at this…” He spreads his spit all around your clit, moaning, and your hips buck up at the sensation, as he bends down, licking the flat of his tongue up your aching slit, making you scream then. “Taste so fuckin’ good, girl.”

“T-Toji!” You can’t keep quiet, you just hope your dad is knocked the fuck out, you’ve never felt anything like this, like his tongue as he digs it in deeper, now finding your clit and flicking it, you’re gushing all over his face. “S’good, s’good…”

He’s moaning against it, grabbing the fat of your ass and dragging your cunt up higher to his hungry mouth, then he’s just.. Fucking devouring you. There’s no other word for it. He’s lapping all your wetness up, as you soak him, more and more, burying his whole face in your cunt, and you’re throbbing inside, pressure in your tummy clenching, till you can’t take it.

“Fuck… cumming, cumming!” You whisper, as quiet as you can, and he moans, easing up and grinning at you, his face glistening with you.

“So easy for me, girl? Can’t put up a fuckin fight?” You scowl, but he’s fingering you now, and your eyes roll back, drool pooling out the side of your face as he’s sucking your puffy clit now, shooting pleasure so hard you can’t see.

“Toji! Toji!” He moans, leaning up, looking at you, though it’s hard to see him with your tits in the fucking way. He grins, white teeth glinting, inky black hair falling in front of his forehead.

“Call me daddy when you fuckin cum.”

“No!”

“Then don’t cum, fuckin brat.” He slides his fingers out and you start to cry, tears down your cheeks. “Do it, girl.”

“You’re… awful.” You huff, but then he eases his head up, and you yank it back down, shoving your hips up. “Make me cum, please…”

“Got something to say, doll? Say it.” He spits on you again, and then smacks your cunt, making your hips snap up, shocking you. “Fuckin like that, don’t you? Gonna be a slut just for me.”

“Fucking hell. Get me off, Daddy , please.” You whisper, then his eyes look fucking drunk, sexy lips parted.

“Anything for ya, little doll.” He’s down there again, tongue sliding inside your cunt as his big hands spread your thighs, fucking you with his tongue as his fingers grip your legs brutally. You’re shoving your hands on your face, screaming into them, as you pulse around his tongue, then he slips it back to your clit. “So fuckin wet, want your daddy to drink ya?”

Fuck he’s awful.

He’s so good.

“Drink me, Daddy, pleassee!” You whine the last word, and he’s slurping you up, sounding ridiculously obscene in your little bedroom, on your bed with all your old hello kitty stuffies, he’s drinking you. And you’re calling him- “Daddy!”

“That’s it, cum f’me. Now, girl.” He orders, and you do, yanking on his hair and falling apart, as your orgasm runs through your entire body, you’re gushing so much you had no clue your pussy could even do that. And he’s lapping you the fuck up, unrelenting, until you’re twitching, tears down your cheeks.

“Sensitive… too much!” He laughs, hot breath against your cunt, as you’re throbbing from cumming so damn hard.

“If you’re gonna take this dick some time, imma need ya to work on that stamina, doll. You can cum again for Daddy, huh?” He spits again.

“You don’t need spit, I’m soaked! Freak.” He laughs at you, and the sound is dark, as he comes up, kissing you.

“Not fuckin ya tonight, not your first time. And you think I’m nasty, I’m being a whole gentleman and shit.”

“You just spit in my mouth.” You glare, and he grins, kissing you, oddly sweet, and you melt.

“Better, little prissy bitch?” You sigh, nodding, then he’s shoving two fingers in your mouth again. “Cum one more time f’me.”

“Mmmh…” He’s back down there, and now he knows your cunt somehow, hitting spots that you have never found, sucking on that clit, moans vibrating it, you’re soaking the bed, his hands, his face.

“Fuck my face, doll, fuckin do it.” You greedily grind on his handsome face, and he moans more, shoving his fingers deep then, and you cum again, as you’re gripping his hair, pulling it, as if to take it off, but no, he won’t stop.

He’s lapping you up, sucking on your lips with loud pops, then drinking every bit of your wetness, with his tongue that must be some fucking demon. He is relentless, until you’re cumming again , and this time it hurts, you’re closing your thighs around his head, but he won’t stop, still eating every inch of you.

“T’much… can’t…”

He doesn’t listen for shit, he’s got your thighs against your breasts, and he’s tongue fucking you, lapping up every bit you had to give. Your entire body is numb, chest heaving, pressing on your thighs, ears fucking ringing. You can’t take anymore, as every flick on your clit makes you twitch, makes you cry, wriggle.

“One more, doll. Let me fuckin’ drink you.” You struggle as he sucks on your abused little clit, so hyper sensitive you think you’ll just fuckin die , but he drinks you, licks you, spreads you wide, until you’re almost ready to faint, seeing black and stars only, voice hoarse.

Then, and only then, does he let your pussy go, and just the air alone hits it, making your tears fall even more, he slides up your body, wet swim trunks pressed against your thighs, looking down at you. For once, not a shit eating grin, no, he looked drunker even, pupils blown out, lips parted.

“Taste ya on me, doll.” He kisses you then, and you’re licking yourself off him, messy, dirty fucking kiss, mostly slobber, drool, tongues and teeth. You grip those strong shoulders tight, and he groans. “How ya feel doll?”

You sigh, gulping, trying to think of a word to describe any of it.

“Fucking… amazing.” He grins, licking his lips, licking that scar, and you run your fingertip down it, kissing it, making him tense a bit. “Sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, doll.” He brushes your hair back. “You’re so fuckin beautiful… I…” You both pause at that.

“I am?” You whisper, and he rolls his eyes.

“Course you are, ya stupid or something?”

“I… that doesn’t seem like you to say.”

“Maybe ya don’t know me for shit.”

“Maybe. Maybe you don’t know me.”

“Know how that pussy tastes now.” He kisses you again, then eases off you with a grin. “Soaked your whole blanket, doll.”

You whimper, closing your legs, as he just laughs at you. “That’s your fault, not mine!”

“Next lesson…” He yanks you up, by your arms, and you’re at level with the stupidly hard bulge in his soaked shorts. “Ya sucked a cock, doll?”

“No.” You admit, blushing, he grabs your cheeks, smushing them.

“I’ll let ya sleep, gotta get some energy for next time I get ya alone.” You nearly squeak, and he laughs. “I’ll eat that cunt too, don’t worry, doll, I’m not selfish.”

“That wasn’t my… We’re… the fuck are we doing, Toji?” You whisper then, and he just shrugs, standing you up, raking hands down your curves, until he gets to your bare ass, moaning.

“Imma make you my lil slut, doll. That’s what.” Your eyes go wide as he grips your ass cheeks in each hand, kissing you, sloppy, messy, biting your lower lip so damn hard you think it’ll break. “Get you ready for this cock.”

“You think you’ll fuck me first, huh?” You whisper, tiptoeing, and he glares down at you then.

“I’ll punish ya for that mouth tomorrow.” He turns then, leaving you, naked in your childhood room, and you look in your dresser mirror, you’re completely naked, red marks all over your body, eyes blown out, hair a dripping wet mess.

Your bed? It’s fucking soaked, with your cum and Toji’s soaking wet shorts, and the blankets are yanked off and scrunched.

Toji just ate your pussy…

No.

He devoured your cunt.

Nasty ass Toji, your dad’s best friend, the man you’ve known most of your life, had just ate your pussy in your dad’s house?

And worst?

You wanna suck his cock, wanna choke on it, wanna see his dirty gucking grin as he fucks your throat. Want him to spit on you again, you want more, want him to fuck you senseless, fill your cunt up. You’ve never wanted something like this, it’s like you don’t even know who the fuck you are.

You struggle to get dressed with shaky hands.

Toji Fushiguro was some pussy eating demon.

Your cunt hurts.

And you really hope your dad didn’t hear.

Chapter 2

Fic also on Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/57496135/chapters/146283262

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

HI saw your requests were open for sagau so i thought i'd drop on by

can i request creator reader with favourites, specifically alhaitham and diluc but you can add more if you'd like! just generally how the character would react to being favourited by the creator and how the creator treats them pls <33

have a good day and no stress if you don't like the idea, just a lil brain rot i've been having recently

lei <3

Hello, Lei Anon! I'll gladly do this request! It's been a while since I've done something like this too lol—I'm doing great as of right now. I hope you're having a good day as well :) I hope you like what I got!

Alhaitham & Diluc Getting Favoritism Privileges ✨

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Diluc

When he heard rumors that he was being favored by the Almighty Creator, he denied it at first. It was just the drunkards in his tavern just talking and rambling. There wasn't anything that could be used as solid proof to back up their drunk claims.

If it wasn't for the fact that you strolled on in, saying, "Diluc, my favorite Main!" he probably would never have believed it.

With your attention consistently on him, Diluc is often praised for gaining Mondstadt the true blessing of the Almighty Creator. Diluc is constantly being given gifts that you find, bought, or crafted—be it a chair made of the finest wood, a fresh bouquet of freshly picked asters and cecilias, or a fresh pair set of clothes with the best quality of silk! Or, whenever you think your gifts aren't enough—mora.

"Your Grace...there is no need for any of this." Diluc doesn't know what to do with the amount of gifts you're giving him constantly. He doesn't even know where to place them in your manor. Adelinde and the other maids are even struggling to maintain the overflow of gifts you've been gifting.

And you, of course, don't think this is enough. "Diluc needs more love" is your motto now!

Alhaitham

Alhaitham's heard of the rumors about being favored by the Almighty Creator. Even Kaveh brought it up, drunk or not, about how Alhaitham was like the golden child of the Their Divine Grace.

Like the usual guy he is, he shrugs it off. Rumors cannot be taken as truth, but that does get him intrigued. Thus, he starts researching to see if these rumors were true, and if not, what parts of the rumor were true.

Turns out, the answer was rather easy to find—you just straight up walked up to him and handed a few books you thought he might find interesting for him. And by a few, I mean at least 50 books.

"Thank you, Your Grace. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to bring any of this home—" "I can help you bring it home!" "—nor do I have the space for it." "I can buy you a new shelf! No, actually, I'll build you your own private library!" "Oh? You're even more intriguing than I thought, Your Grace. Allow me to ask for your help and aid to carry these books home."

You would often buy him books, or give him more mora, or hell, even gift him any furniture or equipment he needed! Anything he needed, you would find a way to supply it to him, or just gift it to him in general, because why not!

Safe to say that Alhaitham took quiet amusement to Kaveh's flabbergasted expression and shock. And, ever the perfectionist he was, how Kaveh was fumbling on shelving the books in the new (big) library you built beside his house that only he (and Kaveh) could access.

Safe to say he is grateful for your favoritism.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Dang, is my mailbox exploding with brainrots from people LOL. I certainly wasn't expecting this! I do hope these posts are up to your liking :)

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[lecsainz]

MISS HIM

parings: travis kelce x wife!reader

summary: you and travis are married and have a two-year-old daughter, but you feel tired and like you're not one of travis's priorities.

authors note: taylor wearing a friendship bracelet with travis number was the reason for my breakdown.

✩. . . masterlist !

You and Travis are happily married, raising your two-year-old daughter, Poppy, in the bustling city of Kansas. Travis, the star player for the Chiefs, leads a busy life, constantly under the spotlight. As much as you love him, you sometimes feel like you've taken a back seat in his priorities.

One evening, as you sit on the couch with Poppy, watching her favorite cartoon, you can't help but feel a pang of loneliness. Travis has been gone for a while, caught up in his training and media obligations. Your daughter looks up at you with her big, innocent eyes and says, "Where's Daddy, Mommy?"

A sigh escapes your lips, "Daddy's working, sweetheart. But he'll be back soon."

"Mommy sad?" Poppy asks, her little brows furrowed.

You manage a smile, ruffling her hair, "No, baby, Mommy's not sad."

But the truth is, you are. The weight of holding everything together has become heavier, and you long for the days when Travis's attention was solely on you and your little family. You know he loves you, but it's easy to feel neglected amidst his demanding career.

That night, as Travis returns home, you can't bring yourself to share your feelings. He's exhausted, and you don't want to burden him further. Instead, you put on a brave face and serve him his favorite dinner.

Poppy can't contain her excitement as she bounces in her high chair, giggling and clapping her hands. Travis can't help but be charmed by her infectious laughter.

"Daddy, up! Up!" Poppy reaches out towards Travis, her tiny fingers desperately wanting to be held by her father.

Travis's face lights up as he scoops her up into his strong arms. "You want Daddy to hold you, sweetheart?"

Poppy nods vigorously, her laughter filling the room as Travis raises her high in the air and then brings her down in a gentle swoop, earning more squeals of delight from their little one.

You watch the heartwarming scene, and despite your own worries, you can't help but smile at the beautiful bond between father and daughter.

He looks at you, grateful, and says, "Thanks, babe. You're amazing, you know that?"

You smile, "It's my pleasure. How was your day?"

As he talks about the game plan and the intense training session, you listen intently, even though your own worries weigh heavily on your heart.

He says, "Baby, is something wrong?"

You looked at your husband and gave a soft smile. "Nothing, just a little tired, no need to worry, my love."

Travis leans in to kiss your forehead, then your lips, and suddenly, everything seems a little bit better.

In the morning, as you watch Travis play with Poppy in the backyard while preparing breakfast for the family, you couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness. You had a deep yearning for more of his attention and presence. It was a feeling that had been growing inside you for a while, and you couldn't keep it to yourself any longer.

You decided to confide in your closest friend, who was on the other end of the call, feeling a need to unburden your heart.

"Y/N, you should talk to Travis about how you're feeling," your friend suggested.

You sighed, a heavy weight on your shoulders. "I just don't want to add more stress to his life. He's already so busy with football, and I'm afraid of being a burden."

But as the days went by, the feeling of being a second priority in your own marriage continued to gnaw at you.

Days turn into weeks, and you continue to silently bear the weight of your emotions, never wanting to be the one who distracts Travis from his career. But one evening, as you're getting Poppy ready for bed, she asks, "Why doesn't Daddy play with us anymore, Mommy?"

It's as if her innocent question tears through the walls you've built around your feelings. You hug her tight and whisper, "He loves us, baby. He's just busy with his job."

Your daughter looks at you with those same innocent eyes, "But I miss him."

You nod, blinking back tears, "I miss him too, sweetheart."

Later that night, after putting your daughter to sleep, you finally decide it's time to talk to Travis. You find him in the living room, going through plays for the upcoming game.

Travis noticed the serious look on your face as you sat down on the couch together. "Is everything okay, babe?"

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Travis, I love you, and I love our life together, but lately, I've been feeling like we're drifting apart. You're so dedicated to your career, and I'm proud of all your achievements, but I miss us. I miss you."

Travis's expression softened as he listened to your words. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted you to feel that way. Football has been demanding, but you and Pops are my top priorities, and I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt the weight of your unspoken worries finally lift. "I didn't want to burden you with my feelings, but I need you to be there for us, for our family."

Travis took your hand and squeezed it gently. "I promise, I'll make more time for you and Pops. We'll find a balance that works for both of us, because you're my world, Y/N."