#they don't pop up as often as they used to but as long as i'm comfortable i'll enjoy them 💕

[edgeray]

mygod that siren Arlecchino fic you did is *chef's kiss* IMMACULATE!!! might i request a continuation, mayhaps? Arle mentioned that she'd follow the reader as they sail, so maybe she misses them and either tries to climb onto the boat or the pier where they're docked to see them again? either hurt/comfort or fluff, the rest is up to you!!! love your work and thank you for fueling my Arlecchino obsession :] also i might pop back in here once in a while, may i be moth anon?

The Sea's Calling Pt. 2

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N - Part 1 link here. Yes, you definitely can be a moth anon! Hi :D. I already added you to the anon list. To other anons that have requested and I haven't gotten to, I do see your requests and if you gave yourself an emoji/name I already added you ^^. Anyways, back to moth anon. <333 I'm so glad you enjoyed my siren Arlecchino fic! As my first request I was kind of nervous about it but I'm glad that you enjoy! I'm also really glad that you sent this request! I did always want to write a part 2 but didn't have the opportunity until now. Thanks moth anon, for the reuqest and for enjoying my works!!  If you couldn't tell, I love the idea of found family pirates. One Piece did this to me. The ending turned out to be self-indulgent, forgive me moth anon ;) Even though it's short, this ended up being one of my favorites. Hope you like this one! Content warnings / info - monster x human, arle is ooc bc she's a siren, fem! reader bc pt.1 has fem! reader, suggestive at the end, 1.2k words

You used to think that the most beautiful thing out there was the sky and its stars–to you, nothing was more mesmerizing than them. They are so alluring despite holding this mystique, and they've guided humans on their naval journeys and inspired all kinds of stories of their origins. The stars were all that kept you company, even on the lonliest and coldest nights.

Now, however, the stars aren't your only company. 

“Guys, I'm going to go back to the ship. Don't wait up on me too much,” you to your fellow pirates as you stand up from the stool. You drop off some extra coins on the baa counter, in order to compensate for the plate that you will be ‘borrowing.’ You pick up the plate of your half-eaten slice of meat pie and sandwich and head towards the exit before one of your crew mates stops you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Turning in already? C'mon, stay a little bit. We've got enough money for a few more rounds of beer,” he says with a boisterous laugh. You chuckle lightly but shake your head. 

“No can do, sorry. Got something to do.”

“Uh huh, like your little siren girlfriend?” Another crew member states, her teasing smile widening as you flush. 

“One more? Jackie hasn't finished his story!”

“Let the darned woman go see her darn girlfriend, Goldie,” another gruffed with a shake of his head. 

“Fine, fine, go on ahead. Tch, when will I get my own smoking hot siren girl?” Goldie huffs, and you snort. Likely never, but you don't tell him that.  

“Thanks, I'll be back,” is all you say before rushing out of the door, nearly tipping over the plate before you balance it again. You wave them off and you make your way back to the docks. The walk is both short and long, and each step you take is filled with the excitement that buzzes through you. 

Even after these months, being able to spend time with her feels like bliss, like you have just found treasure. Sometimes, you forget she's a siren, she's ever so endearing and follows you around like a puppy. Oftentimes, when you're on the boat, you talk to her as she lingers by. The night after you first met the siren your crew had banned you from jumping into the waters because you had developed a cold which infected a good chunk of the crew; the cold wasn't severe for anyone but still. Since you can't be in the water, you often just talk to her from the railings and she answers. 

It's only when you're docked when you can finally touch her, but those times come rare. It can take days, sometimes weeks to reach an island to dock at, but when you do, you always take the time to sit by the shore. 

Finally, you arrive at the pier. “Arle?” You call out, and you see a ripple in the water. Grinning, you walk to the ends of one of the docks, setting down the plate a bit away from you. You remove your shoes and set them far away. Perching on the dock, your feet dip into the cold waters and you shiver.

You see something gleam in the corner of your eyes, the familiar shine of her scales. You then remember the food, and you start. “Wait, Arle don't splash–”

Too late. Something erupts from the waters and launches into you, a cold, heavy weight thrusting into your body making you tumble on your back on the dock. Pressed between the wooden planks and the creature that straddles you, you can't help but laugh and raise your hand up to her face, the now drenched food forgotten entirely. 

“Hey gorgeous,” you say as you stroke her cheek gently. She's the most beautiful treasure that you found among the seas. Arlecchino gazes down on you, her red pupils glistering as her arms wrap around your torso. She purrs, little fangs apparent as the tip of her tongue peeks out with her open-mouth smile. 

“Missed you,” is the first thing she says, before she leans her body against you, nuzzling her face into your neck. Your clothes get soaked from her, but you pay no mind. You stroke her wet hair, carding your fingers through her strands before kissing the top of her head. 

“I missed you too. Did you eat recently?” 

Sometimes she'd disappear for a few nights to search for another wandering ship for her meals but she never fails to find your ship again. You haven't seen her for a couple days before you docked her. 

Arlecchino nods. “Human food?” She questions. Her tail flicks, thumping against the wood out of eagerness. Although she enjoys the taste of cooked meats, beef especially, you don't believe it's as nutrition dense as… well, the main source of her diet, and it's hard to serve her cooked meat while on sea due to the issue of storing meat on ships. So, cooked meat has always been a treat for her. 

You nod. “You want to try?” 

She lets out an affirmative purr, and you help her sit upright in your lap. It's always a bit difficult considering she has a tail instead of legs, but she maneuvers her tail to encircle your waist, and you support her back with one of your arms. You silently mourn for your now soggy sandwich as you reach for the plate, using her tail as a flat surface. 

“What is it?” 

“Meat pie and a sandwich.” You take the fork and dig out the meat from the meat pie. Balancing the tender piece of beef on your utensil, you carefully guide it to her mouth. 

“Careful, it's hot. And don't bite the fork this time,” you gently warn her as she eats it. She squirms a bit in your lap, an indicator that she's pleased with the taste. 

“More?” You chuckle, adoring the cute plea in her eyes. 

You scrape out more of the meat until she's eaten all of the pie filling, leaving you to eat the pie crust. You're still peckish, so you start eating your sandwich, but not before fishing out the thick slice of ham from it, and giving it to her. If it meant you could watch the way her expression lights up again forever, then you would endlessly eat ham-less sandwiches and savor every cheese and vegetables sandwiched in between wet bread. 

“Did you like it?” You ask in between chews as she leans her head against your shoulder. She nods, and leans up again to place featherlight kisses on your neck. With the cold droplets of water and her frigid lips, it tickles you and you giggle. So adorable. 

You freeze up when you feel her fangs prick your skin and she looks up to you for permission. Another mating bite? You nod, wordlessly giving her permission, and you suck in a harsh breath as you feel her teeth sink in. Purrs vibrate coarse through her mouth as she pulls away, lapping at the mark and the texture of her tongue invokes a throaty groan from you, your body trembling with pleasure. 

Arlecchino leans away, but in her eyes, hunger burns in them. Her hands take purchase on your hips and she pushes your back against the planks. Her tail unwinds around your torso and instead coils around your ankles, securing them together.  

“H-here?” You question, flushing. Her hands wander lower, the sharp nails trailing lower to your thighs, where faint scratches scatter. 

The night that you first met her, she sang so beautifully for you. Tonight, you repay her back, singing out her name so tastefully. 

[alexcutecolly]

Been feeling a lot of protective-pred vibes lately lol, and they're so warm and soothing 💕 I missed them, ngl!

[quartzalynlove]

Coming Home Injured

Pairing: Liu Kang, Kenshi, Johnny Cage, Raiden, Sub Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile x fem!reader (separately)

Summary: returning from a mission with a few bad injuries

Warnings: Canon typical violence, some descriptions of bad wounds

A/N: let's see if I can make personalized pet names for each of them without them being cringe. Feedback encouraged. Also if we're gonna keep writing for all 8 of these guys at once it's gonna take a minute for me to post so sorry abt that but more mk1 content is coming

Liu Kang

The two of you sat in silence from the moment you returned home. You had completed the mission, but only by an inch of your life. The image of Liu Kang's concerned face, before you fainted in his arms, was still clear in your head.

Liu Kang assessed your injuries before treating them, trying not to be alarmed by the long, deep gash cut from your side into your abdomen. All the while, that look on his face never faded. You had seen Liu Kang when he was concerned many times, but this was different. That crease between his brows was deeper for some reason. As his hands shook, uncharacteristically, while he cleaned your wound, you finally identified the expression. It was the same one you saw when Kenshi lost his sight on the mission to capture Shang Tsung.

"Darling," your voice was weak as you looked down at him.

Immediately, Liu Kang's eyes shot up at you. With his worry growing, he placed a hand on your thigh.

"My light, please do not exert yourself."

Slowly, your hand took hold of his. Your grip was so weak that Liu Kang could hardly bear it. Instead, he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. You felt a shuddering breath against your skin as he pulled away.

"Don't you think you're a bit too concerned?" You asked.

With deep regret, Liu Kang bowed his head, not able to look at what he'd done to you.

"You shouldn't have returned this injured," his low voice started to break. "I shouldn't have—"

You stopped him before he could say another thing, "Lift your head," you told him.

Liu Kang looked up at you, slowly, his breaths still heavy and unsteady.

"You used your judgment as well as you could, and I fulfilled your orders. I came back to you."

Starting to calm, Liu Kang nodded in understanding.

"Not every round of Kombat is easy, but I'll be okay."

Upon seeing your reassuring smile, Liu Kang's breathing finally steadied, and his grip on your hand started to soften.

Kenshi

You winced in pain as Kenshi finished a stitch on a rather brutal injury. If he hadn't gotten to you sooner, the blood loss would have killed you. What you did lose on your staggering trek back home already made you lightheaded. Kenshi insisted on you resting; he made you something to eat and made sure you were drinking water. As you laid on the couch, resting yourself after a tough mission, Kenshi was rubbing your feet. You noticed his clenched jaw and the tight line his lips formed. Part of you wished you could sit up and hold his face, but you didn't want to risk popping a stitch while it was still fresh.

"What's on your mind, Kenshi?"

He turned toward your voice before trying to dismiss you with a shake of his head. "Nothing, my flower. Please try to rest."

"Don't say 'nothing' when it's clearly something, love."

You didn't say anything else, still too out of it to try and coax anything else from him. Thankfully, he wasn't going to make you do the work.

"I should've been there," He said quietly. "If I were there to protect you, you this wouldn't have happened."

Kenshi was such a gentleman, your very own knight in shining armor, but he often piled too much on his plate without noticing. He did know he didn't have to save you every time, didn't he?

A lazy smile graced your face, "Honey, I'm fine." You told him.

"You aren't fine—"

You interrupted, "I'll be fine," you said slowly. "You've patched my wounds, forced food and water down my throat, and you're even keeping me company here and rubbing my feet. You've saved me already, my hero."

Kenshi sighed as your words put him at ease, silently accepting that you were right.

"Besides," you continued. "I'm a big girl; I can handle myself. You should ask Sento to show you the other guy."

As Kenshi started to chuckle, you wore a proud smile before feeling yourself fall asleep on the couch.

Johnny Cage

Johnny was all over the place. While you held onto your side on the couch, he searched the area frantically for God knows what. All you could hear was his half-rambled sentences around.

"Johnny." You tried to get his attention.

He stopped for just a second just to point a finger at you. "Hey, don't move over there. I just gotta..."

As he left again, you let your head fall back, sighing in pain.

"I'm calling Liu Kang." You said.

Something in the kitchen clattered as Johnny shouted. "No, don't call him; I've got this!"

"I've been bleeding on our couch for five minutes!"

Sighing, Johnny came back again and looked at you. In any other circumstance, it would be cute how frantic he was over you. Unfortunately, however, your life was at stake and he was running around the house like the Roadrunner. Finally, Johnny finished assessing your injuries.

"Water," he snapped his fingers. "I'll get you some water."

"Johnny!" You stopped him before he could take off again.

In Johnny's defense, he was very worried. It was written all over his face. As you sighed, you spoke to him very carefully.

"I keep a first aid kit in the bathroom cabinet."

With many understanding nods, Johnny seemed to calm down before heading to the bathroom.

"First aid kit," he said to himself. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Raiden

You didn't know how you were still alive, and if it weren't for Raiden, you'd surely be dead. Once you got through the portal, you tried to make it home to him, but Raiden ended up finding you collapsed on the academy grounds as blood quickly made a pool around your stomach. When you came to, the only sensation you could make out was Raiden's feet striking the ground as he ran with you in his arms. You must have managed to say something because you saw his eyes meet yours before darkness obstructed your vision again

The next time you woke you were somewhere indoors. A bright yellow light blinded you before your eyes could adjust. You felt Raiden squeeze your hand as your head turned.

"You're awake." He gasped.

All you could muster was a faint smile. That searing pain from the gash that opened your stomach still wasn't gone.

"Not for long." You said weakly.

Raiden's face became worried as he inched closer to you from his chair at your side.

"I must keep you awake," he said almost as a plea to you. "I've taken you to the medics, and they said if you wake I couldn't let you close your eyes again."

You whined with a frown. "It hurts, Raiden."

Raiden brought his free hand on top of yours, trying to comfort you with small rubs.

"I know, but I am here. I've got you."

As you looked at Raiden, the pain seemed to lessen. Everything felt warmer as long as you focused on him.

"I bet Shao thought he killed me." You said.

A bright smile appeared on Raiden's face at your decision to stay with him. "He is in for a surprise the next time you meet."

Sub Zero

You were a victim of Bi-Han's cold frustration. Honestly, it agitated you more than the searing pain caused by the cleaning of the open wound across your side.

From the moment you came back to him, limping through the front door with the last of your strength, he didn't utter a sound. You remained in awkward silence as he had you sit on the kitchen counter with your back straight while he patched you up.

As he stitched you up, Bi-Han was moving at a harsh pace. It wouldn't harm your wound, but it was almost more painful than the wound itself. Bi-Han was aware of the sharp breaths you sucked in and pained gasps, but they were no deterrent to quickness.

"Bi-Han," you finally snapped at him.

With a cocked eyebrow, Bi-Han stepped back, eyeing you with such an icy glare and that scowl you thought wasn't welcome in your home.

Your eyes searched his face, hoping to find your lover buried beneath that avalanche, "You're hurting me." You said.

A scoff came from Bi-Han as he attempted to work on you once again. "This can't hurt nearly as bad as your other injuries."

You wouldn't let him come back to you, however, pushing him back with the palm of your hand. "Well, it isn't exactly helping."

Bi-Han folded his arms over his chest. "Do you expect me to coddle you?"

"Some sympathy wouldn't hurt." You spat back.

In disbelief, Bi-Han came back to you, forcing himself into your view. "You want my sympathy for the consequences of your reckless actions? My assistance is enough comfort."

He readied the needle for the next stitch, but before he could jam another hole into you, you took the needle out of his hand.

You didn't look at him as you spoke. "I would rather help myself."

After staring at you for a moment, Bi-Han walked away with a grunt. However, even as he started to leave, your wincing continued. You tried to finish the stitching yourself, but the wound was in such a place that you couldn't reach it without straining the rest of your body. Not to mention aggravating the wound itself.

Bi-Han couldn't bear to watch and listen to you struggle. You were only hurting yourself more. Casting his face down for a moment, Bi-Han exhaled before returning to your side.

Before you could begin another stitch, you felt a cold hand stop the needle.

"The stitching will be ineffective this way."

That growl had left Bi-Han's voice, and his face softened, save the deep crease between his brows. Although his gaze would not meet yours, you gave the needle back to Bi-Han, feeling in the air that his anger had dissipated. As he went to work once again, he was much more gentle, and his work didn't hurt nearly as much. Still, he was very quiet. It was clear he wasn't angry with you anymore, but something still troubled him.

Once the stitch was finished, Bi-Han went to tend to your smaller injuries, remaining so quiet and drawn away from you. As he went to clean a cut on your cheek his eyes remained fixated on the wound, not once glancing towards you. Becoming concerned for him, you stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

"Bi-Han," you began turning to face him, but his face turned away. "Will you look at me, sweetheart?"

He couldn't; he was ashamed to do so. Although he should have had better control over himself, Bi-Han lost his temper with you.

"I was worried," he said, his face finally falling. "Seeing you come home in this state concerned me. I'm sorry I let it contort into anger."

With a small smile, you took the side of Bi-Han's face in your hand, fixing it towards you. It melted him a bit to see your face. Even after how he had acted, you still smiled at him.

"I knew of your anger long before we got together," you said. "And while it can be frustrating, that doesn't mean I'm not willing to work through it as long as you are."

Bi-Han leaned into your touch, sighing as he let his eyes close. "Just promise you'll act more carefully on future missions."

Scorpion

Kuai Liang tended to the large gash across the length of the back. The wound was deep and wide, he could hardly fathom how this had happened to you. However, his focus remained on bandaging you before it suffered any infection. Kuai Liang worked gently as he secured the bandages around you, but you dreaded turning back to him. Once you did, you turned away quickly from his gentle face, eager to get away from where his eyes gazed. Confused by this, he stopped you, taking a soft but firm hold of your arm.

"You should let me help with getting you ready for bed. I don't want you exhausting yourself, precious."

You huffed, but couldn't lose your temper with Kuai Liang's warm eyes gazing at you. Still, you snatched your arm back, turning your back to him again.

"I can manage, Kuai Liang." Your tone wasn't exactly angry but somber instead, bringing a confused expression to Kuai Liang's face.

He started to catch up to you again, "Your injuries are very serious, Y/N." He said as a word of caution.

As your jaw clenched, you quickly turned back to Kuai Liang, your tone more serious now. "And I said I can manage."

Suddenly, a sharp pain radiated through your shoulder, causing you to wince and grab at it. You turned too fast. Kuai Liang placed a hand on your shoulder, generating the softest heat to ease the pain.

"Beloved, what is wrong," He said with concern as he turned back in front of you. "It can't just be your injuries making you this upset."

With a soft sigh, you started to break your frustration, letting the sadness you truly felt manifest in your face, "Aren't you disappointed?" You looked up at him.

Kuai Liang's brows furrowed in confusion. Your expression was so sad and apologetic. How could you think he was disappointed?

"In you," he asked in disbelief. "Of course not, precious. Why would I be?"

Gesturing to yourself, you let out a shuddering breath, "Look at me," your voice began to break. "This is no state for a champion to be in after Kombat,"

Kuai Liang felt his heart break; he knew you always held yourself to a status that kept you worthy of the mantle that was Earthrealm's champion, but he hated to see you acting this harshly towards yourself.

As tears started forming in your eyes, you continued. "You and your brothers fight to bring honor to your clan's name; you persist no matter the challenge. How can I be a champion when I haven't done the same for Earthrealm?"

You faced the floor as tears streamed down your cheek, but Kuai Liang wouldn't let you shut yourself out from him again. Lifting your head with his index finger, Kuai Liang started wiping your tears as his hands cradled your face.

"Beloved," his voice was soft as he spoke to you. "You accepted your challenge and fought with all you had. Honor isn't about winning but fighting valiantly in the name of your clan. By engaging in Kombat for the glory of Earthrealm and its champions, you have brought honor. For that, I am proud of you as I always am."

As your tears slowed, Kuai Liang gazed into your eyes with a nod of understanding. Once you nodded back, he planted a kiss on top of your head.

Smoke

Tomas hadn't left your side since you returned home last night, and though he tried his best to conceal it, you could feel how worried he was. All of your wounds were patched up, and you were starting to feel better, but he still insisted on doing every little thing for you. It was sweet; you knew how much he cared for his loved ones, especially you, but he did know you'd be okay, right?

By the time you had woken up, Tomas was in the shower, and you were starving. It wasn't going to strain you to cook breakfast, so that's what you went to do.

You had just begun cooking when Tomas came out of the shower. When he returned to your bedroom and found the bed to be empty, he froze in fear. Frantically, he hurried around the house, looking for you. It didn't take him long to reach the kitchen where you were cooking at the stove.

"What are you doing out of bed, my love?"

You turned to see Tomas' concerned face. Smiling, in hopes you would put him at ease, you gestured to the pan of bacon on the stove.

"Cooking," you answered him. "I'm hungry; I bet you are too."

With a small frown, Tomas sighed softly as he leaned against the island, "I could've handled this." He said.

As you turned back to the stove, you nodded. "Yes, but you were in the shower. Besides, I felt like cooking."

You could hear Tomas grumbling behind you as he came closer. Suddenly, he put his hand on top of yours, trying to take the pan from you.

"I'd much prefer it if you stayed in bed, my love."

Tightening your grip, you looked back at him. "I've been in bed since yesterday evening, let me cook us breakfast."

By this point, Tomas didn't know what to do other than pout disapprovingly, but you weren't going to have it.

"Tomas," you called him. "Look at me."

With a sigh, he listened, backing up to eye you before you explained your instruction.

"I'm doing better. It's not like I'm going to fall over at the stove."

He tried to interrupt, "You don't—" But you silenced him with a hand on the center of his chest.

You continued softly. "Go sit down and wait for your food."

The two of you shared a brief look before you closed your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. Once he did, you opened your eyes to Tomas walking to sit at the table.

Reptile

You hissed as Syzoth finished a stitch on your shoulder.

"I know it hurts, but we're almost done." He tried to calm you.

Usually, you tried to fight him when he patched you up, but you came home in pretty rough shape. The only complaining you could manage was in the form of winces and grunts. Syzoth never really minded, though. If anything you reminded him of his younger siblings when they'd hurt themselves playing.

"There," He said, putting the needle down. "You'll be fine in a few days."

As Syzoth looked at you with a soft face, you couldn't help feeling a small sense of shame.

"I'm sorry." You apologized, playing with your hands in your lap.

Syzoth tilted his head at you. "For what?"

"I can be so stubborn when you're only trying to help."

An incredulous slithering laugh started to leave Syzoth at your words, confusing you a bit. Putting your hands in his, Syzoth looked into your eyes.

"Firefly, I have faced much worse than you upset about getting a few stitches. As long as you're okay, you can bicker and grunt at me all you like."

Syzoth kissed you on the forehead before leading you to the bed.

"I never did ask how your opponent ended up." He looked over at you.

With a proud smile, you answered him. "Let's just say if I was injured the same, would have done more than bicker at you."

[miguelhugger2099]

Eye for an Eye

Summary: Miguel rescues you in an ugly way. A/N: my guilty pleasure is sometimes i wanna be saveddd Warnings: Brief suggestion to sexual harrassment/assault, a bit of violence.

Somehow in the year 2099, most people didn't understand that Spider-Man in this age didn't follow the famous "no killing" rule that the original Spider-Man upheld in the Heroic Age. Most people meaning criminals.

Spider-Man, even when saving people from falling from skyscrapers or punching Public Eye scum in the face, if pushed to his limits- he would kill. This was his rules, his timeline, his Nueva York and if some pesky criminal wouldn't understand that then he'd get rid of them by any means.

So where do you come in all this?

Despite your efforts at secrecy, in the dead of night Spider-Man would often escort you home after work or if you had gotten into trouble with some purse snatcher. Other times, he'd sneak in your apartment window after a long fight, wanting to see you and have you patch up the wounds that would take a little more time to heal.

Spider-Man had revealed to you that he was actually Miguel O'Hara, the handsome stranger that had seemingly bumped into you more and more often after your very first encounter with Spider-Man. Having already been in an established relationship, you felt your heart drop at this major secret.

A part of you was angry at him for not telling you. For revealing your feelings about Miguel to his alter ego Spider-Man and making a fool of yourself. For all the nights he cancelled seeing you without explanation-something that put a strain on your relationship for a while. 

However the other half of you was drowned in worry. So all those times his masked covered face had come in to see you, bloody and bruised while you fixed him up, it was all him. He could die, you told him. Why would he do this to himself?

"I haven't been good all my life," He groaned while you pressed a damp cloth to his wound one night. "I think of all this as repentance for being a shocking moron in my earlier years."

"There are other ways to repent. Like donating to charity or some confession booth at a church. Not some...Not risking your life." You could barely look at him, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to fall while it clouded your vision. 

"I'm not religious." Miguel replies. "It wouldn't mean anything with these in my body now. They'd probably still send me to Hell regardless." He lifts his hand, his talons auto extracting from his fingertips and he feels the bile from his stomach stir, an urge to vomit at the disgust of himself.

He forces his talons back into his fingertips so he could tilt your chin up to face him. His thumb caressed your cheek to wipe off a stray tear that had fallen. "I'm sorry I put this all on you." He whispers.

You shake your head. "You're stupid, I always knew that," You sniffle and Miguel bites his cheek so he doesn't smile. "But I could help you better now. I...I know who you are and everything makes sense now, we could-"

Miguel stops you by shushing you. "No, no, no. You're not helping me anymore." Your heart drops again.

"What do you mean?"

"This is the last time we'll see each other."

Your jaw drops this time. Eyes that widened in shock now turn to anger. "Shock, Miguel. I knew you were an asshole but breaking up with me after revealing your secret identity to me has got to be one of the lowest things you're doing."

You lean away from him, bloodied and dried cloth thrown at his chest. "I was useful when you could just pop in whenever? No strings attached–was it fun?" You scoff in hurt.

Miguel grits his teeth. "No, carajo, it's-it's me-"

"Don't bullshit me Miguel with that it's not you, it's me rhetoric." You cross your arms tightly to your chest.

"It's dangerous!" He barks back.

"Like it wasn't dangerous before?" 

"It was! That's why I can't come back! I can't let myself lead them to you!" Miguel sits up and grabs onto your shoulders tightly and gives you a firm shake. His hands shake as he holds you, his head hanging. "This...this power of mine. I...it can lead so many of those assholes to you." He whispers. "I trusted you enough to come here, which I hate myself for. I should’ve never involved you in any of this.” Miguel’s hands fall from your shoulders and down your arms to grip your hands in his. “I’ve already put you in so much danger. If you got hurt, I don’t know what I’d do.”

The feeling of his talons pricking your skin and the sight of his fangs leaking a drop of his venom made you think maybe he did know what he’d do. He would just really want to avoid it.

“Miggy,” You say softly. “How about you let me make that choice? Now that I know, it doesn’t scare me. Do you know why?” You take your right hand out his grip to cup his cheek. His tired eyes look up to yours, nostril dried with blood and a scar on his forehead that surely needed bandages.

“Because I know you’ll protect me. You’re Spider-Man.” You lean in closer, Miguel under your spell. “Let me help you. That’s my decision. In return, if I’m ever a damsel in distress, I hope you’ll help me.” You give him a small smile and his hand covers yours on his cheek. He squeezes your fingers. “I promise.” He swears. Miguel always kept his promises even if he stumbled on the way. So when he went to visit you after his nightly patrol, he didn’t expect to see your entire apartment in disarray. His mask phases off his head, scarlet eyes wide and panicked. He gulps down his fear, muscles tense as he steps into your room. Blankets and pillows on the floor, some slashed and stuffing being poured out the seams. Your desk that held photos of you and your friends had also fallen to the floor, glass shattered and frames broken. Miguel takes another quiet step outside of your room. Your entire living room was a mess. Your couch had been moved and cut in half, lamps cracked and more photos on the floor. His heart stops when he sees blood in the kitchen. Some of the knives had been taken and another wave of fear splashes down his spine. It was clear there had been some sort of resistance with whoever took you. Whoever took you. Who took you? Miguel feels the fear morph into rage, his mask phasing back on his head. “Lyla. Scan this place.” He growls. His AI assistant glitches into existence, her eyes behind her pink heart shaped glasses full of worry. She begins phasing in and out of different places while Miguel lets the anger fester in his body. HIs talons on his fingers and feet itch to come out, to be sharpened for whatever poor soul’s flesh he’ll rip into. His fangs seep out his paralyzing venom, his tongue licking off the excess. Lyla appears in front of him, more meek and smaller compared to her usual upbeat and sarcastic nature. She knew there was a time and a place. “The blood isn’t hers. They most likely knocked her out since there’s no trace of her own blood around. Fingerprints on the knife handle are hers. No other DNA samples could be acquired.”

Miguel walks towards the entrance of your apartment. His hand grazes the door frame that had been split apart. Lyla appears next to him. “Forced entry, probably by foot. There’s some traces of wet soil–mainly seawater. I’ve tracked several fishing ports–most in Staten Island.” She displays holograms of different spots, standing tall by his side while he skims through. “Did you find a match on the blood?” His voice rumbles. “Negative, Miguel. None in the criminal database, including The Raft. Looks like this is the work of someone new.” Miguel grows furious. He roars as he punches his hand through the already destroyed couch. Some novice wants his attention so badly, he’s willing to piss him off for it. Miguel swings out of your place and searches the entirety of Staten Island’s fishing ports until he finds the one he was looking for. You don’t know where you are but you can feel everything. A sash was wrapped tightly around your eyes, some rope or zip ties held your wrists together and your ankles to the chair you sat on. You felt the pounding of a headache when you woke up. The last thing you remembered was one of the intruders lifting his gun and slamming the barrel down on your temple. They grew tired of you after reaching into the kitchen to protect yourself. You held them off well but you were still just one person. The sash had been lifted from your eyes and you groaned when a bright light of a lamp shined in your face. While you squinted, you could make out at least three people in front of you.

“I’m sorry about my men. They’re still a little new. You know how it is when you get trainees for a new job.” The one in the middle speaks, you noticed he also is the one that took off your sash. “What the hell was the point of all this? You just kidnap random people from their homes?” You glare up at the man and his two puppets. “Streets say you’re good friends with Spidey.” One of the smirks. “Had one of these guys watch him crawl in your window like some squashed bug.” You scoff softly, rolling your side to the side. “So what?”

The man in front shrugs. “Either you’re his whore or you know him. So which is it sweetheart?” He rests his hand on the back seat of your chair and leans in close to your face. “Who is Spider-Man?”

You licks your lips and stare back up at him, choking back the stretch his breath was. “I don’t know.”

He grins. “Hm. So you’re his whore. A special one at that. He doesn’t appear in just anyone’s home so what services do you offer him in exchange for some protection? Do they apply here? Baby, I can protect you too.”

He’s sick, your mind screamed. You struggled against your restraints.

“Shock you.” You spit on his shirt and he lands a hard slap across your cheek.

He mumbles a string of curses before grabbing your chin and forcing you to face him again. “Don’t forget who’s in the shocking chair, sweetheart. Your hero ain’t here so be a doll and shut the hell up.”

Your chest heaved up and down in deep breaths to calm your scared heart. You feel your cheek stinging and it didn’t help with this rotten man’s fingers digging into your skin.

Your silence pleases him and his other hand reaches down to your knee. “I don’t wanna hurt you, sweet thing. It’s just one simple question and I’ll let you go.” He lies. His hand rides up your thigh and your leg tries to kick him away from you but he just grips you tighter. “I don’t know.” You plead hoarsely. “I know, I know. So you say.” Out of the corner of your eye you see one of his men snatched into the darkness with a clawed hand around his mouth. Miguel. The guy in front of you digs his nails deeper in your skin and you can feel the scratch. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” You whine at the pain, pursing your lips to keep yourself quiet. “See, Spidey’s head goes for millions of dollars–money you can’t even comprehend so if you could do your community a favor of just letting us in on some intel on the son of a bitch; that’d be great.” “You wanna kill him?” You ask breathlessly, looking to the other side to see another newbie being hindered, his neck tilted to the side while some teeth bite into his flesh. His body slowly lost consciousness and was also dragged into the darkness silently. “Most of Nueva York wants that guy dead. All the ones on top but I’m dirt poor, sweetie. It’d be a disservice for the hero to not let me kill him. Shouldn't he give to the poor and needy?” He sighs, letting go of your cheek so both his hands rests on your upper thighs. You feel your skin crawling and try to move away as far as you can in your seat. “But you don’t know anything do you? Then I’d be doing a disservice by throwing out some useful goods here, don't you think?” His grimy hands grip your hips, looping his fingers around your jean belt loops. Before you could even think, the man is instantly ripped off of you by his shirt. He’s thrown back on his side, skidding as he comes to a halt. Spider-Man towers in front of you, his back facing you. You could still see the rage oozing from his suit, shoulders and muscles tense and claws out. His chest rises and falls with each jagged breath, the only sound coming out of him.

“Spider-Man!” The man growls, stumbling to get back on his feet. His pistol had slipped from the back of his jeans, sliding away from him. “Dammit–Darrell! Fernando!” He calls to his two men but he freezes. On the floor are both his associates, one’s clothes ripped apart with claw marks on his chest, the other with his jaw slacked open and two puncture holes in his neck–a strange mixture of blood and another liquid oozing from the wound. He lets out a strangled scream as he looks back up at Spider-Man. His tall frame stalks over to him but the man crawls to find his gun. Before he could grab it, Miguel stomps on the man's arm, giving a satisfying crack to his bone which the man cries out painfully. While he writhes on the concrete ground, Miguel grabs onto his broken arm and lifts him up–he screams, trying to push Miguel away. “You wanted to kill me?” Miguel growls, his voice deep and menacing. The man pleads for his life and another set of footsteps come from behind. “Shoot him!” The man yells as Miguel looks back over his shoulder. The rest of the group comes up from behind Miguel, raising–what Miguel considers pathetic–guns up to his face. The eyes on Miguel’s mask squint slightly and just as quickly, he turns with the man in his hands and uses his body to protect himself from the onslaught of bullets. The man’s entire group fires and every single bullet pierces into his body, splattering blood on the ground and Miguel’s suit. Miguel makes sure that you weren’t hit at any moment. Miguel tosses the limp corpse to the side and pounces into the group, attaching his fangs into some man’s neck while his talons ripped along his arm to let go of the rifle he was holding. Chaos ensues and they all begin shooting at one another in hopes that one shot could land on Spider-Man. Miguel’s claws ripped apart limbs and skin, every single hand that raised against you was littered to the ground. He continues to swing and jump around, letting everyone get lost in the confusion before tearing through chests and stomachs. His rage knew no bounds at the moment. He had planned to just come in secretly while he still had a part of his mind. Get in, use his venom, take you and get out. But when he saw what that scum would’ve done to you, touching you, gripping onto you–he lost his mind. Even with Lyla’s brief protest, Miguel couldn’t help but want to tear him apart. So he did.

It wasn’t often Miguel had to be reduced to such measures but everyone had their limits. By the time it was over, he barely noticed how silent it had become. His ears were still ringing, he felt like he was underwater as he gulped in heaps of air. “Miguel!” He hears Lyla yell at him. He snaps his head to where he heard her voice, blind rage melting when he sees you still in the chair. He sees Lyla with her arms crossed, her little foot tapping angrily in mid-air. Lyla had done her best to cover your sight and hearing of the crime Miguel had done with holograms of whatever–surely it was much nicer than watching Miguel gnaw off a piece of someone’s throat. Miguel glances at his hands stained and dripping with blood. He wipes them on his legs, hoping to get it off him before you could see. He falls to his knees in front of you with a soft whine of your name and his mask phases off. “Lyla, blur the room.” Lyla does as told and lets you see him. Your eyes are concerned and scared. “Miggy…” You whisper, feeling the trauma set in. “I’m here, I’m here–I told you I’d protect you, yeah?” Miguel uses his talons to cut off the zip ties from your wrists and ankles that were digging in your skin. Once you were free, you wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped into his arms. Miguel fell back but made sure to hug you back, his arms going around your waist while his other arm went up to cradle your head. He buried himself in your shoulder, breathing in the mixture of your natural scent and the scent of the man. He growled and held you tighter. He’d do something about that smell.

“I was so scared–I didn’t know what to do–How did you find me?” You babbled as you finally felt safe enough to sob and cry. “Don’t worry about that. You’re safe. You’re okay.” Miguel reassures you, kissing your temple and cheek, pulling away gently to brush your messy hair away from your face. He wipes your tears with the back of his hand, unintentionally leaving a bloody mark. “Shit..” He mumbles, ashamed and pulls his hand away. You stop him, holding his hand back to your cheek. You just wanted to feel him, his warmth. You weren’t stupid. You knew what happened when Lyla put up holograms that blurred what you weren’t supposed to see. You didn’t care. May they rot. “Thank you.” You whimpered. “Thank you.” Miguel presses a kiss to your forehead. “Always. I’ll take you home.” “But, my apartment–” You try to speak as Miguel moves to hold your body in one hand while he swings on his web with the other. “Not your apartment. Mine. My penthouse. I’m never leaving you out of my sight again.” Your arms were securely around his neck. He was still tense but much less before. You tried to look back down but he squeezed you tighter– he didn’t want you to see.

For tonight, he’d take care of you just like all those nights you took care of him.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Torn

Kewis x Child!Reader

Summary: No one tells you anything

Something bad happens to Mom when she's away with Chelsea.

She comes back with crutches and a bandage around her leg. It's pretty bad, you gather, but no one tells you what exactly is wrong with her.

"Careful, chook," Mom says as you round the corner chasing after Helen," Don't run so fast. I'm delicate."

You give her an unimpressed look at interrupting you but don't say anything because she's hurt. You have to do that a lot now. Mom is very busy trying to recover, Mommy tells you often, and that you shouldn't interrupt her while she's doing that.

Mommy is trying to clean up around the two of you while muttering to Auntie Sam on the phone. You think that's a little funny sometimes, that you have an Auntie Sam and the Mom's adult name is Sam too.

It's kind of funny but you don't dwell on it for long because Helen pops her head up over the coffee table that Mom's using to stretch her boo-boo leg. Helen gives you a look that says 'keep-playing-with-me' so you hurry to follow her, grabbing the jingly bells on a stick to wave at her.

It's her favourite toy and you shake it for her to paw at.

"Hey," Mommy moves past and takes it off you," Mom's trying to relax. How about we play quietly?"

You huff but don't argue. Helen mews rudely at Mommy as you go to sit in your play corner.

Mommy's packed away all your loud, interesting toys so you're forced to play with the boring princess toys Grandpa got you for Christmas. You make one of your dinosaurs eat her.

Usually, when you play with dinosaurs, Mom comes over to play with you but she and Mommy are cuddling on the sofa and talking in hushed voices.

You know that means they're having an adult conversation about Mom's injury that they don't want you to hear about.

You know the very bare minimum about Mom's knee. You knew she hurt it when she went on holiday with Chelsea and recently came back home from the hospital surgery she had.

She walks around on crutches now and isn't allowed to pick you up or run around with you anymore.

It's very annoying and it makes her sad sometimes. You try to cheer her up but Mommy always directs you to play by yourself because she's scared that you'll hurt Mom.

"What are you doing there, chook?" Mom asks when she watches you take the clothes off of one of your princesses.

"Dinos can't eat clothes, Mom," You reply," Got to be naked to eat."

You brutally smack your Spinosaurus against the princess and make crude eating sounds with your mouth.

Mommy wrinkles her nose in disgust like every time you do something like this. You think Mommy's a bit like a princess sometimes because she likes dressing up all pretty and is less willing to play rough with you like Mom does.

"What happened to playing nice?" Mommy asks," We have to treat everyone with respect."

You roll your eyes. "Toys aren't real people, Mommy. They're just pretend."

Mom laughs. "She's got you there, Kristie."

Kristie is Mommy's grown up name and you think that's kind of cool. Her name is even like a princess name and sometimes Auntie Sam jokes that she's the princess of eyebrows.

Mommy is very proud of her eyebrows but she's not been taking care of them like she usually does because she's very focused on helping Mom with her knee.

At the thought of Mom's injury, you huff and bumshuffle your way with your Spinosaurus and Allosaurus over to Helen sitting in her cat tree.

Sam watches you go. You've been different since she came home injured. Not different enough that she's overly concerned but enough that she's begun to notice it.

"She's doing it again," She whispers to Kristie as they both watch your little shoulders slouch into yourself when you turn around, as if to check that they're both still there.

Your eyes stay focused on where Sam's leg is propped up on the table.

"I think the injury is throwing her off a little," Kristie replies with a sigh," I imagine this is a lot."

"Are we paying enough attention to her? I mean..."

They watch you as you wander back to your play corner and try to drag your big tub of dinosaurs over to Helen's cat tree. You're practically obsessed with dinosaurs ever since you caught a rerun of Dinosaur King on the tv.

It had launched an obsession that Sam likened to her own for football and your absolute favourite thing was handing her and Kristie dinosaurs so they could play with you.

"Heya, Chook," Sam calls out," Do you need some help there?"

"Can't help," You grunt as you helplessly tug at the box," You're hurt."

"Well, I can help," Kristie says, already moving to get up.

You freeze her with a look of contempt. "Can't help either. You have to look after Mom." You move around the box to push it rather than pull and it suddenly gets a lot easier.

It's a stupid thing to be proud of, Sam thinks, but she's proud nonetheless. You're a good little problem solver and you're clearly picking up on hers and Kristie's behaviours without it being fully explained to you.

You sit in front of Helen and put out a dinosaur in front of her. Sam's not sure what kind it is but that's fine because you clearly do, as you choose your own dinosaur from the box and make it fight Helen's.

Kristie moves to sit crosslegged next to you. You spare her a glance but go back to playing.

She reaches into your box.

"Can't touch unless you're playing," You say firmly," And you can't play.

"Why can't I play?"

"Because you have to look after Mom."

"And that means I can't play?"

"No." You make Helen's dinosaur lay on its side and die because that's what happens with dinosaurs. "Because Mom's more important than playing and I'm littler so I can be forgotten."

Your words don't really make sense and yet somehow makes perfect sense to Kristie. She sighs.

"Are you feeling sad? Because I haven't been playing with you since Mom hurt her leg?"

"I'm not sad," You say as you pick out another dinosaur for Helen," I'm littler than Mom and she's bigger and has a boo-boo so she needs to be looked after."

"Mommy can still play with you," Mom says from her spot on the sofa. She hasn't said much since Mommy came over but she has been watching. "If you bring the box over here then I can play too."

You glance over your shoulder with a look that makes it clear you think she's lying. "You can't play, Mom," You say," Because you've hurt your knee and you're delicate. You said so."

"I did, didn't I?" Mom laughs a bit awkwardly. "As long as you don't run around or anything, we can still play. Here." She awkwardly moves to sit on the floor, throwing a sofa cushion down to rest her leg on as she sits by the coffee table.

You're still a little sceptical and you glance at Mommy to check. She's in charge of what you do with Mom because you're littler than her and she's got working knees.

She gives you nod. "If we all stay sitting, we can play at the table."

Kristie tries not to feel the guilt in her chest when you light up like a Christmas tree and shove your box across the floor. You never used to look so happy when she and Sam offered to play with you.

"You can be the Microceratus, Mommy, because it's pretty like you." You hand her the toy. "And you can be my Ornithomimus because it's fast." You hand Sam the toy.

Sam smiles. "Thanks, chook. What are you going to be?"

"I'm going to be Spinosaurus," You say," Because they're my favourite."

You dip into your box to grab your little trees and bushes to dot around the table to make a scene. You go to grab your Spinosaurus before stopping. You glance between Sam and Kristie.

"Can...Can we play later too? Please? If Mom's knee is less hurt?"

Sam smiles at you. "Of course we can play later, chook."

[miyamoratsumuu]

i absolutely love your haikyuu hcs with mood boards and i wanna request tsukishima kei for the third part (I LOVE HIM SO MUCHBIEUUERHIBHS)

♡ 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬, 𝐰/ 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐭. 𝟑!! ♡

pt. 1 - pt. 2

characters: k. bokuto, h. iwaizumi, k. tsukishima

note: I am so so sorry for the wait, but here it is!! I hope you like it<3 implied fem partner for all of them, lowercase intended. pictures used are not mine, all of them are found on pinterest!!:)

navigation . . .

haikyuu masterlist

BOKUTO KOTARO "I love you for who you are, sweetheart. always and forever. that's a promise."

this man is literally the living definition of a golden retriever boyfriend. he'll do anything, and I mean anything just to see your pretty smile. your feet start to hurt while walking? blink and you're already being carried off your feet. you stare at something at a store way longer than you do at everything else? you can bet he's ready to buy it for you asap. even when you quietly mumble something about being thirsty or hungry, he's already dragging you to the nearest place where you both could get something to eat or drink.

he's def an acts of service and words of affirmation type of person. he's consistent with it too, it's what he does best with the people he loves, ofc. every single day, he makes sure to remind you and show you how much he cares for you through his words and actions. every morning, you'd wake up to a good morning text from your fav owl boy accompanied with the most exaggerated compliments (if you could even call some of them that) he could think of. some of his best ones are "good morning to the best, kindest, smartest, most gorgeous girl I've ever met! have an amaaazzziiingggg day!!!" and "you never asked me, but did you know that I WOULD still date you even if you were a worm? heck even if you were a grasshopper, I'd still love you. I hope u have a great day!!!! good morning btw:DD".

kotaro loves to show off to everyone how he's yours and you're his. when you're out, it's often that he'll be carrying your bag or anything you're carrying for you. his hands are ready to be of help to you anytime anywhere, really. there was one time when the two of you were at a cinema waiting for the movie to start. you were wearing a claw clip to keep your hair up, and we all know how uncomfortable it could be to lean against a headrest while wearing one of those. you took it off and asked kotaro to hold it for you. what you didn't notice was that he didn't give it back to you. that was until the 2 hour movie finished and you noticed the claw clip clipped onto the front of his shirt. when you asked for it back though, he didn't want to give it back to you because "it's to let everyone know that I'm just for you babe!"

this man is also the type that loves having matching stuff with you. it could range from matching shirts, keychains, caps, to phone cases and social media account bios. as long as you consent to it, of course. he (and all the other haikyuu boys) would never ever want to force you into doing something you don't want to. one of your matching stuff are lego figures that have shirts saying "I <3 my bf" and "I <3 my gf". kotaro thought they were cute, given that the lego set they came in was a blast to build too. the two of you having an at home date to build it was a bonus.

another time that the two of you were absolutely adorable was when you stopped by a convenience store on the way back from a hang out some friends. both of you were craving a sweet candy but didn't want to be holding a pack of it in your hands while you walked, so you decided to buy a ring pop. one for yourself, and one for kotaro. outside the convenience store as he was removing the plastic wrap of yours for you, kotaro mumbled something he didn't think you would hear but you absolutely did. "this could be practice rings for when we get our actual wedding bands in the future". you were speechless as he successfully took the wrapper off, and slid the ring onto your finger while he had one of the biggest grin on his face.

intimate moments aren't always consisted of sexual acts or so. you've proven that with your intimate tomes with kotaro that included you styling his hair during the times it was down, with you sat on the bed or a couch while his head is laid in your lap. or the times the two of you were so bored that you managed to find old coloring books somewhere in your house and colored them while you laid on the floor flat on your stomach. or of course the times the two of you pretended that your plushies were your "children" and took care of them as though they were real living things. it's never a dull time with kotaro. for he'd do anything to keep being the reason you smile because you're always the reason for his.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME "I took on the job of protecting you and your heart when I decided to be yours, darling. and I never plan on resigning. "

hajime was a mess when he first started to like you. at first he wasn't even sure about what he was feeling, leaving him confused. he didn't want to talk to toru about it, because he thought it would only show how lost he is and he didn't really need his best friend to rub it in his face. he loves him, but he decided he'd try figuring this out on his own for now. of course the thought of him liking you came to mind. how could he not? you're kind, understanding, you both get along splendidly, and you've been there for him since the beginning of your highschool years. he denied it at first, thinking that he was just in his feels because of the thought of you guys nearing the end of your third year, and eventually having to split up soon. but hajime wasn't an idiot. after a few more days of thinking about it, he knew what his feelings meant and he knew he had to accept it.

and the rest was history. honestly, you two should thank toru, mattsun, and makki for being the reasons the two of you got together. the both of you were somewhat cowards to confess your feelings to one another but both of you were so painfully obvious that the three of your closest friends had to take matters into their own hands. (yes, they used the cliche 7 minutes in heaven tactic)

when the two of you start dating though, all shyness leaves hajime. he still wasn't big on pda, but he still made sure to let the people around you know that you were together. especially if other guys try to push their luck too much. during the times the two of you are out in public, it's often that hajime would place an arm around your waist or shoulder, or a hand on the small of your back. his touches are subtle, but he does it with the upmost care.

dates with hajime are usually indoor ones at either one of your homes. mostly, the two of you spend time with one another wrapped in each other's embrace, watching a movie or catching up on the tv show you both promised you would always watch together. and other times, you would switch things up and try out new activities together. some of the activities that the two of you had already done was doing art projects together like painting, building lego sets together, and making late night snacks.

on the few times that you had dates that involved leaving the house, it would often be at the mall or some kind of park. after the mall dates the two of you have, it can't be helped if you bring home a shopping bag or two. if you do, hajime insists on carrying them for you. he would carry the bags on one hand while he holds yours with the other. though during the times both of his hands were occupied, he would let you grab the back of his shirt just so you wouldn't get lost in the crowd of people. during your amusement park or public park dates, there are times that something catches your eye. the moment that hajime notices you looking at it longer than you would, he immediately insists on buying it for you. it doesn't matter if it's something you don't need, as long as you're happy, he is too.

hajime is also the type of lover that always has you in mind too. on times that he's out in public by himself running errands or so, at the times he would see something that ever so slightly reminds him of you, he would buy it immediately, or if he isn't able to at the moment, he would take a picture of it and either send it to you or keep it to himself for later.

he isn't the best at expressing himself through words, not even close. but all it takes for you to know how much he really cared for you is to see just how he looks at you like you're the only thing that matters in the world. it doesn't matter what you're doing at all. when his gentle gaze meets yours with a soft smile on his lips, it was more than enough to express what he really feels about you.

TSUKISHIMA KEI "stop denying it, doll. we both know you love me. I love you too, if that's what you keep worrying about."

kei never really seemed like the type to be so whipped for someone. so imagine the shock when his closest friends catch him buying a bouquet from time to time on his way home. they often thought that he was buying them for himself as a decoration change back at home, you know? little did they know that he never headed straight home during those days. he would stop by your house and hand the bouquets to you. (with a scoff and a roll of his eyes, of course) the two of you attend different schools and your houses have quite a distance from each other, so you could say that these visits of his is his way of making up for lost time.

like hajime, kei isn't used to expressing his feelings through words. he rarely does it. instead, he shows it in the little things he does for you. one time after a formal event that the two of you attended, his home was close to the venue so the two of you decided to just walk back. what you didn't realize when you made this decision was that your feet were already starting to hurt from the heels you were wearing. kei noticed your steps getting slower so he stopped walking beside you. you noticed, and stopped as well. with a sigh, kei got down on one knee and began to take off the straps on your heels. it only took a tap on your foot and a sarcastic look from him to convince you to take your shoes off. once they were off, he held both shoes on one hand and turned to you. "here" he takes his shoes off. he hands them to you "wear these until we get home. the socks I'm wearing don't get dirty easily anyway" he turned his head away from you as he stretched his arm out for you to rake the shoes. you stare at him, never expecting him to do something like this. "are you gonna take them or not?" with a chuckle, you accept the shoes and put them on. you hold onto kei's hand as the both of you continue on your way home, with kei carrying your god-forsaken heels.

one weekend morning after a night of continuous rain, you texted kei inviting him to go biking with you around town. minutes later, he's knocking at your front door, his bike leaning on the wall to the side. once the teo of you were on the streets, you quickly noticed how slippery the roads were. not wanting to get into any accidents, kei reached his hand towards you, gesturing for you to hold onto his hand. the whole time you two were riding your bikes, your fingers were intertwined with each other's.

on the very few times shoyo, tobio, and tadashi convinced kei to play video games with them, you often sit in with kei in his room while he plays. either you're sitting on a chair beside him, or you're directly sitting on his lap. you usually stay quiet to not disturb kei's chat with the guys, but he rarely uses his mic anyway, so usually it's the two of you talking while he plays instead of him talking to his three friends in the call.

while the two of you were still "just friends", you already knew that kei had a habit of listening to music a lot. when you did start dating, you made it a point to send kei a song that reminds you of him every three days or so. the first few weeks, he was confused, not seeing the point of you doing it, bt after a while, he got used to it. after two months of you sending him songs, he compiled all of them into one playlist, adding more to it every time you send him a new one.

you didn't know about this, of course. until one day, you were on your bed waiting for kei to come back from the kitchen. you were on his phone (with his permission, of course) opening every app you were curious about, you eventually found yourself opening his music app. you were expecting to only see a playlist of songs from his favorite artists, or a playlist of the songs he listens to almost every day. but the playlist that caught your attention first was neither of those you had in mind. it was only named "." but the playlist photo was a mirror picture of the two of you. you opened it, curious to see what songs it contained. you scrolled through the songs, with some familiarity about them. it was on the tip of your tongue, you just couldn't remember what was so familiar about them to you. that was until you scrolled down to see the latest song added to the playlist. it was the most recent "this reminds me of you" song you sent kei just yesterday. then it dawned on you. 'these are the songs I've been sending him for the past few months! and he has all of them in a playlist!' you smile giddily to yourself at how sweet you thought this all was. by the perfect timing, kei walks through the door, to find you squealing in your bed about how much he loves you. he does though, a lot.

[fatuismooches]

hi omg, I hope you don't mind me sending requests <3

I live for your writing sm, all of your fluffs gave me diabetes but healthier. I am a sucker for all of them, so thank you for putting your time and effort in your written works <3

I was thinking of headcanons with gn!reader and the fatui members but the reader is fragile, who can get easily sick or physically weak because of the unhealthy conditions during their childhood. I would love to think about those "meanies" (cough dottore or scara) would go insta worry mode if something bad happens to you because of your condition. Fluff or angst, I'm in love with both, I hope you don't mind about the request ^^ (you can decide platonic or romantic <3)

♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞/𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ♡

synopsis: The Harbingers are made of steel, unflinching in any possible situation. That is until they start worrying over your frail figure.

includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader

notes: I really loved this request, it made me really inspired! (Probably because they'd be extra soft in this scenario and I love that...) I hope you like this nonnie!

Pierro:

He doesn’t get to see you very often with his work and whatnot. But rest assured that you are in good hands, and that even if Pierro only has a spare twenty minutes of break, he’s coming to your room or wherever you are to check up on you. He doesn’t want you to be restrained. He wants you to go and experience Snezhnaya instead of being cooped up alone all the time (with the proper guards and company of course.) He is a very stoic but kind gentleman. You’d hide in his coat while walking together and no one would know until you pop out of it and scare the recruits. He holds the doors open, pulls up the blankets to the very top. When you’re tired due to your sickness he likes to use ancient Khaenri’ahn magic to make you smile.

If you died, Pierro would feel grief that he has not felt since the destruction of his homeland. He has already lost so much that his heart had become numb a long time ago, but your death made it come flooding back. He would have some kind of small figure similar to a chess piece made of you, and he’d keep it on him. In the battle for his heart, you were always the winner. What hurt the most was that he couldn’t even be with you in your final moments, to at least confirm how much he loved you despite everything. But he promises you, he will see you again in the “Old World” after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s dream.

Capitano:

He is really worried for you. It was such a sharp contrast - big, tall, in tip-top shape, hulking Capitano while little old you struggled to walk straight sometimes. If you sneeze or even cough once, he’s literally all over you asking you if you’re okay. He tries to do a lot of things for you by himself. He stabs the meat on your plate so hard it breaks. He accidentally spends an hour deciding what you should wear, because he didn’t realize you had this many clothes, so he needed to choose something that’d look the best on you, despite not really having any fashion sense. But at least he is very diligent with your medicine times. He literally hovers over you, unintentionally being menacing, while you drink it. It’s very cute but the first time he did it, you spat out the medicine in surprise because you opened your eyes and he was just standing there with no warning. (Don’t ask him to pour it though. Once you asked him to pour a little into the bottle’s cover. His hands were too big and it spilled on the bedsheets.) If you collapse on him, he would be internally panicking so hard. Poor guy thought he hurt you somehow. The kind of guy who paces back and forth and causes everyone around him ten times more anxiety with how he’s acting. Also, lots of rides where you hook your legs over his shoulders and your hands are on his head (I don’t know what they’re called.)

If you died, Capitano would feel like a monster. Yes, he didn’t kill you, but it still felt like your blood was on his hands. Or did he kill you? He brought ruin and destruction to everyone, did he curse you too? How did he even know you were happy with him? Did you regret it? Would you have been happier spending your days with someone else? Horrific questions dug deeper and deeper stabs into his sturdy body, weighing him down day by day. He would give up anything just to have you back in his arms, for you to reassure and caress him, that he wasn’t a demon. But it seemed like the monster part of him was taking over anyway.

Columbina:

The kind of lover who has a list of songs that remind her of you and also buys you the record so you could listen to it. Columbina thinks music can soothe and heal the soul. So everyone can frequently hear tunes coming from your room. She also has a very calming voice in general, so when you are in pain, she just talks to you. She’d gently croon you to sleep or get you to spill all of your fears about the future, and thus comfort you. Since she sings, I’m declaring that she’s pretty poetic and would write poems for you. They always include bravery, strength, and overcoming illness with love, complete with heart doodles around it.

If you died, she would create multiple songs in honor of you. At your funeral, they couldn’t go on with the proceedings for a long time because she sang for hours, thinking of you. Often, she would go to your coffin, encased in ice, and just lie on it, singing. I think she would take a piece of your clothing and attach it to her outfit or something. I just have a feeling that she has lost before, but she likes to hold that article of clothing and feel as though you are still with her. She would become lost in her thoughts a lot more than before. If you had a favorite song, Columbina could often be found humming it to herself alone. 

Dottore:

He’s a doctor. A very unethical one, but Dottore’s still extremely intelligent. He knows what you can and can’t do, your possibilities and your limits, your good days and your bad days. He doesn’t trust anyone else to monitor your progress and health. When it’s time for your walks, Dottore personally comes with you, which baffles the other Fatui who knows that virtually nothing can come between him and his research. He tells you about how his medicine for you is coming along, and while you can’t really understand any of it, you like clinging to his arm for support. When it’s time for your medicine, he administers it himself despite your whining that it’s yucky. (For you though, he would find a way to make it a flavor to your liking.) 

But even for him, illness can sometimes be unpredictable, despite his precise calculations. Which is why whenever your condition randomly takes a turn for the worse, his mood completely changes and he’s already running a bunch of tests and taking your pressure and all of the like, trying to figure out what triggered your illness. Everyone knows not to even look at him during these times. Doesn’t show it but even though he isn’t scared of anything, these little stunts are not good for him. Has notebooks dedicated to your condition and daily status updates. Nothing goes unnoticed by him. Oh, but he’ll have his clones piggyback you around when you’re too tired to walk <3.

If you died, Dottore wouldn’t show it, but he would never forgive himself. He has the power to create artificial Gods, clone himself, and so much more, but he couldn’t save you? Honestly, he would probably preserve your body through cryosleep, unable to accept your death and his failure. He keeps you in a room that no one else has access to, and just… stares at your naked body in the tube, ruminating about how much he wanted you back. Dottore’s efforts to research and master resurrection triple, and he won’t stop until he could hear your voice again. 

Pulcinella:

When you’re at your lowest because of your illness, Pulcinella always comes in and likes to tell you some roundabout story that always has a life message at the end. He’s serious with you but also likes when you have fun. Reads you stories in different voices but it’s not very good when he sounds like a grandpa in all of them. He likes to set you up with different Harbingers. They’re also like family to him so he would want them to spend time with you. It would help your mental health too, he thinks. While some are fine with it, others are less interested, let's just say Papanella has his ways.

If you died, it really felt like he lost his own child. Pulcinella loved when you came to him asking for stories. When you sometimes left the country but came back with exciting stories. He liked to joke that if an old man like him could make it for this long, you’d have to as well. He really wanted you to go and experience the world and what it had to offer, just like he did. Planning your funeral was not something he was looking forward to.

Scaramouche:

Sometimes, he can’t help but think to himself, how much of a grip a weak, frail human like you has on him. A strong breeze could probably knock you off your feet, meanwhile, he has God-like powers. Yet he feels like a fool in your presence. He complains about how needy you are but in an instant, he is ordering someone to bring you a glass of water or extra blankets. Grumbles about how fragile you are but he holds you so gently, you wonder if it’s still Scaramouche. When you’re around, he tends to keep his voice down and not yell at others, since he doesn’t want to accidentally make you feel worse. Scaramouche is still his snarky self, but it’s noticeable how much he observes you, matching his pace to yours even if you’re walking slowly as hell, stopping with you to look at the scenery.

Despite all his whining, not gonna lie, if you collapse on him, he will probably freak out. If he had a heart, it would be thump-thump-thumping, but in its place is just an ache and unsettling feeling. Instantly catches you but his mind goes to the worse, knowing how fleeting your life was. Would move faster than the speed of lightning to get you help, and would not leave for side for anything. Waking up to Scaramouche’s hand intertwined with you and his head facing down into the sheets was not something you expected. In fact, he acts more vulnerable than you, ordering you (which, in reality, is more like a plea) to get better soon.

If you died, any remnants of love and kindness would just… extinguish. Anything in sight is being thrown, crushed, electrocuted. If the sickness was caused by the Tatarigami plaguing Inazuma, he would be especially furious. He would curse everything, everyone. The God, his creator, who abandoned him and let you get this sick. The doctors who were too useless to do anything. But he would curse himself the most, for being so weak, and not being able to do anything for the one person who actually gave a damn about him, now fated to wander Teyvat by himself for eternity. (But… reincarnation AU, anyone?)

Arlecchino:

Arlecchino is a silent yet watchful and hands-on partner. She observes you closely to see if your condition is acting up, or if you’re starting to feel ill. She is the kind of person who wouldn’t allow anything bad to happen since she picks up on your cues. Often times Arlecchino would scold the orphans for bothering you so much but you’d always reassure her that you didn’t mind. Whenever you try to lie about how well you’re feeling, she always narrows her eyes at you and makes you lie back down. Nothing can get past her. I also think she has a great soup recipe due to her experience with children, so you’ll definitely be fed some good food.

If you died, it would seem that there was no change in Arlecchino to the Fatui recruits. Same stone cold face and dead eyes. Same harsh voice that spat out orders. And they would be right, outwardly at least. Inwardly, however, was a completely different story. When a wound is healing, it hurts the most when it’s targeted. If her heart wasn’t hurt before, now it felt like it was completely broken, just when you were starting to piece it back together. When she looks at the children playing, she envisions you running after them too, but the only thing there is the shadows of the kids. When she’s walking through the halls, she anticipates you trying to creep up on her unknowingly and give her a back hug, but now all she hears is her own intense footsteps. When she’s doing paperwork, she expects to see you trying to sneak sugar into her coffee… but you won’t ever be here to do those simple things again.

La Signora:

La Signora treats you like glass. She is especially overprotective of you because she greatly fears losing you. You have the best maids and servants tending to your every need. She’d rather you not exert more energy than you have to. When she’s not around, she sends her little flame moths with sweet messages to you, in hopes of making you smile. She is scared about you going out by yourself since you could get sick so easily. So whenever you need a breath of fresh air, she makes sure to bundle you up in the finest coats. Also has her moths flutter around you for heat. Signora is very tall, so I think she would like to sit you on her lap and do simple things with her. I think she secretly craves a domestic life with her lover after she was robbed of it so long ago. She’d want to play with your hair, press you into her soft chest, make origami butterflies together.

If you died, the ice that previously surrounded her heart would swallow her up again. No more teasing you, hooking her finger under your chin, and kissing you. No more mock fashion shows where she helped to dress you in the most gorgeous clothes and the two of you would pose for pictures for the Kamera. It seemed as though the Gods would tear anyone she loved away from her without hesitation. She suffered the loss of her love once, but for it to happen twice? The pain was unbearable but Rosalyne sealed her feelings up once again. Coldness and ruthlessness returned to mask her true feelings, for if she didn’t, she feared she might not be able to handle it.

Pantalone:

Pantalone wants you to see and do anything you want. You want to go to Liyue to attend the Lantern Rite? He’s clearing his schedule to come with you. You want some obscure item? He’s searching all the markets and buying it, no matter the cost. You picked up some hobby to pass the time? He’s indulging you with the most expensive and efficient equipment to help you with it. He wants you to have the most stress-free, easy, and happy life, so you can just focus on recovering and getting better. Every day, you’ll be visited by a new doctor, repeating the same old questions about how you feel, but Pantalone reassures you that they’re working on something for your health. He’s thankful that his position in the Fatui allows him to stay in Snezhnaya most of the time because he worries about you every minute of the day. The kind of guy who would have a status report on your health sent to his office every hour.

If you died, behind closed doors, his smile would immediately drop, now feeling like it was a heavy burden just to quirk his lips. He had access to the best doctors, medicines, and even bought ancient remedies long forgotten. Yet it was all fruitless. The Mora that he once loved to feel slip through his fingers sickened him. What was all the money he had worth? It couldn’t buy your life back.

Sandrone:

If you want her to, she could probably hook you up with some robotic/prosthetic limbs. But she’ll never want to make you a full robot. You’re not one of her experiments, you’re her lovely lover. At first, she was okay with you going on walks. Well, it wasn’t really a walk because a Ruin Guard just carried you in its hand. But she never did that again when the robot returned with you collapsed and unconscious. Needless to say, the project Sandrone was working on is immediately dropped and now she’s taking extra precautions. I feel as though she would hook up a camera to her caretaker robots so she can be updated on your conditions at all times. When you’re sick, Sandrone likes to make cute robot animals, (which is something she never dreamed of wasting time on before she met you) to bring you little things. Maybe photos of some scenery she took might brighten your day. Or little short but sweet notes. The one that always makes you laugh is when it brings you a clipboard to fill out your daily assessment.

If you died, it would feel like she herself turned into a robot. Wake up, experiment in her lab for an ungodly amount of hours, forget to eat and sleep. Rinse and repeat. Her life was constant now that you, the variable, were gone. Sandrone had a bed for you in her lab so you could watch her while she tinkered with some mechanical parts. It was mostly you talking while she fiddled but your voice bouncing off the walls was pleasant. But now it was silent, only the squeaking of wrenches and screwdrivers remained. She felt emptier than any puppet.

Childe:

He’s the kind of person who excitedly grips your hand and tells you about all the fun and lively activities you two will do together when your health improves. He wakes you up every morning, sunlight pouring into the room and the smell of breakfast cooking (and him in an apron.) Loves to serve you breakfast in bed, spoon-feeding you while the two of you plan what the day will be like. You want to just stay in and relax? Great, he’s got some of Teucer’s favorite story books to read together. You want to go for a stroll? He’s already got the route marked and the picnic basket ready. Childe would manage to carry you and like ten other bags at the same time just to impress you. Also, he is your personal hype man. Even when you’re terribly sick, he’s there to motivate you and sing your praises about how strong you are.

If you died, he would feel lost. The abyss snatched a piece of his heart away already, but he felt even more hollow now. You were the only thing that made Childe forget about being a weapon for the Tsaritsa for a while. When he was away on missions, he enjoyed reading your letters about how you were supposedly getting better. In the middle of a battlefield he would flip through photos of you and his heart would swell in anticipation for the future. But as Teucer and his siblings wail and cling to his legs, and it takes all of Ajax’s strength to not break down in front of them too. When he’s alone though, he silently sobs into your old clothes and bed sheets.

[tulipsforvin]

smudge of love & lipstick ✦ wj. moriarty

⚠️: a little suggestive, make out sesh with liam. not proofread.

author: creds to val dearest for the idea @.starsh1ne-va1ly btw

art by @.ogata69 on x // william j. moriarty x fem!reader

“lord william is certainly the very epitome of gentlemanliness out there, isn't he?”

“ladies...—”

“of course, lady adelaide! not only is he kind and gentle, but also smart, good-looking and...” chirping from noblewomen fade into the background. william exhales slowly, looking down at his pocket watch.

forty six minutes.

in forty six minutes he'd have to open up an entrance for his colleagues to slide in and go forth with their mission for tonight; however, with the way things were going on, women from high society clinging onto him—it certainly proved to be very difficult.

“hm..” william hums absentmindedly, gaze searching for you in the crowd. he seems to be doing this more often than usual these past few months. he tells himself it's because he's looking out for you—another colleague of his, but he knows the way he looks at you is different than the way he looks at others.

did he perhaps like you...? no way. certainly not.

“looking for someone?”

you pop up behind him, hands behind your back and a cheery smile on your lips. he stares at you too long, though, and you can't help but ask: “william?”

“ah, yes. i...” he clears his throat. “there is something i wish to talk to you about.” he glances back at the noblewomen all looking curiously at you two, eager to listen in to your conversation. a sigh. “privately.”

“oh.” you nod. “okay, sure. let us go, then?”

william gives you the smallest twitch of a smile and turns to the noblewomen with a bow to excuse himself, “pardon me, ladies. i will be right back.”

“exactly where are we going, by the way?” you question the blond when the two of you are scurrying away from the party with long, fast steps.

“somewhere private.”

“not much of a hint, willie.”

“please.”

“it was a joke.”

you could tell he was fidgety than usual. had something gone wrong with the plan? his calculations? what was the issue here? unable to ask and wanting to co-operate, you follow him silently.

“woah. pretty.” you look around when you finally enter a tall but cramped room, dark and heavy purple silk curtains draping everywhere, accompanied by the sense of incense, a table in the middle with cards along with a hand-held mirror atop it and an.. orb?

“it's a fortune reading room.” william explains when he reads the confusion and curiosity on your face.

“mm.. well,” your fingers travel across the fabrics of the purple silk lazily. “what are we doing here?”

“do you have lipstick on you?”

you pat the hidden pocket on your dress. “yep.”

“kiss me.”

you freeze. a brief, almost painful pause.

“...what?”

“kiss me.” he repeats, like the first one wasn't clear enough. “..for the success of the mission, of course. being swarmed by a horde of noble ladies would prevent me from entering the men's club and opening a route for fred to infiltrate, thus dropping the success rate from a whole 100 percent to—”

“okay, okay, okay.” you throw your hands up in the air. “i understand. just, y'know, don't speak maths.”

“my apologies.”

you make your way to the round table, take your seat, hold up the handheld mirror, pull out your lipstick and start painting your lips red. occasionally you'd happen to peek at the reflection from the mirror to william and what you'd see was:

a strange expression. heavy—yet not sad. contemplative—yet not harsh. soft and hazy—yet focused on you. fond; the way he looked at you.

“okay, i'm done.” you stand up and make your way to a william staring at you with folded arms, leaning against a wall. “how.. do i look?”

you can't help but ask.

and he can't help but answer: “ravishing.”

as always. he'd add, but that would be too much.

“here i go, then.” you lean in and william leans his head downwards. your heart beats are loud, drumming past your chest and into the open and..

a soft, barely there kiss, no—a peck on the cheek.

“...” that ended too quickly for william. he seems almost disappointed when you pull back and away.

you hand him the hand held mirror and he observes the light mark of your red lips on his right cheek.

although it was a mark enough and visible to the naked eye, it wasn't enough. for him, to be exact.

a single kiss on the cheek isn't enough for him.

“that won't cut it. we need to be convincing, (name). as much as possible.” he leans back in towards you, pulling you back to him gently by your wrist. perhaps he was being too selfish. “let me have some more.”

“..alright.” but it didn't matter anymore. especially when he feels the touch of your soft lips bless his skin once more. it starts innocent; a kiss on his nose first, then his cheeks again, one on his brow and—

“ah,” your lips press somewhere on his neck, somewhere that makes him shiver—somewhere that causes the adam's apple on his neck to move.

“oh—oops. too much?”

were you teasing him?

william looks down at you dizzily, pupils dilated and his voice is slightly hoarser, rougher when he begins speaking once again. “no.. please continue.”

and so you go on with your charity of kisses, placing them wherever his bare skin laid; more and more. bolder, harder, passionately. hotter and hotter—he feels his composure, the one he was known to hold during all difficulties snap in an instant with you.

a loud crash. and then silence.

“...liam?”

william's knee is between your legs, pushing you up against a wall—your wrists pinned against it's cold, hard texture by his long, slender hands.

“haa.. haa..” hot breaths tainting each other's skin; panting and panting. there's a look in his eyes; wild and feral, almost teetering on animalistic. his gaze falls to your lips; those soft, alluring lips of yours inviting him in for a bite. william gulps, licks his lips, contemplates, hesitates. and then pulls back shakily.

“sorry.” he mumbles hoarsely, staggering a step back in shock of his own actions. he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “i'm sorry, (name).”

he'd almost gone and done it. he almost, almost kissed you. almost pulled you in by your waist. almost ruined whatever relationship the two of you had—

william's eyes widen in surprise. hot, wet lips against his own trembling ones. you take a step further, fingers digging into the fabric of his sleeves, pushing yourself onto your tiptoes all the while you're stepping on his shoes. but he doesn't seem to mind.

not one bit.

he leans his head down, angles his lips to your own lips, holds you by the hips and kisses you back with the same passion, the same heat and desperation.

you pull back for air. “if you're going to do it, go all the way. don't back down—that's not like you.”

“..haha.” he's too drunk in your shared kisses, he chuckles half consciously; gaze hazy and nips on your bottom lip teasingly. your hands loop around his neck and attack him with more of your heated kisses.

and they go on for a while; lips smushed sloppily against each other—stopping only when the two of you head voices outside of the room, making you both flinch and bringing yourselves to a halt.

“before we go out..” he whispers lowly, forehead resting atop yours; his eyes are closed—his expression calm, but it was clear from his thundering heartbeat that it was the opposite.

“i must tell you something i've hidden too deep in the crevices of my heart for far too long.” a deep breath. “i do not remember when you first made an appearance in my life, all i know is you been there since—with and without your presence; you have made a home for you to live in every inch of me. every hour, every minute and every second i spend thinking and drowning in a possibility of you and me.”

and then he presses his lips against your own for the last time; infinitely softer. “i love you dearly, (name).”

he pulls back, detaching himself away from you.

both of your appearances are messy when you return from your secret little rendezvous, messy hair, half crumpled clothes and lipstick smudges everywhere. it is certainly a sight to look at and you realize nobles—men and women alike are practically gawking at the two of you. william slips past for a few minutes to finally clear a secret pathway for his colleagues to enter through and follow on with their mission, all while noblewomen swarm you with questions.

“my god, lady (name)! did you truly kiss lord william?”

“are the lipstick marks on him yours?”

“what is going on between the two of you?”

an arm wraps around your shoulder. william's back.

“i must apologise for my curtness, ladies. but i must ask that we all be calm with our queries and curiosities. can we do that? my darling seems to be feeling a little under the weather, you see.”

“p-pardon? ‘darling’? then—!" the noblewomen feel their eyes practically fall out of their sockets.

“yes,” he smiles kindly at the noblewomen. “if i'm allowed to, and would certainly feel honoured to, i can answer any questions you have in my her stead.”

click. all lights go off. people shriek. they are here.

and you are nothing but glad because at least in the dark nobody can see how red your face is burning up in embarrassment and fluster, especially when the blond pulls you in close to him protectively.

[makeyoumine69]

Call Me Babydoll 5

PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Patrick stays in your mind even after the disastrous Dorsia incident. Like a song you can't get out of your head, he continues to hum his sultry and sensual words and ways into your ears and heart. When he arrives unexpectedly with a surprise guest, he cannot deny that he is attracted to you. But is this even real?

CONTAINS: Angst, smut, masturbation (f), obsessive behavior, cursing and use of pet names, smoking, gaslighting & manipulation, humiliation & hyperfixation, Daddy kink, making out, marking, biting.

WORDS: 3.5k

A/N: Sorry to make you wait so long, I hope to get in shape soon and post more often!🥰

LINKS: [Ch.4]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST]

Your mind was a complete mess, your heart nothing but glass dust. The echoes of your private conversation with Patrick on the outdoor terrace of Dorsia still lingered in your mind even after you returned home, though you couldn't remember how you made it since you had declined Bateman's offer to take you to your house.

The first thing you noticed when you crossed the threshold of your home was a strong, sweet scent of flowers. It was a familiar perfume that you already hated.

"Y/n? I thought you were already asleep in your room," and there she was - your father's girlfriend named Sophia, meeting you in the hall, smiling mischievously as she caught you doing something criminal. "Where have you been?"

Sophia was a middle-aged woman with Greek roots, she was really a nice person, always so kind and friendly to you, and most importantly - she never tried to replace your mother, for which you were very grateful. 

"I had dinner," you replied tiredly as you took off your coat. "Not a good one."

"Ouch…" She gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before continuing. "Don't be sad, honey. You're an incredible person and I'm sure that one day you'll meet the right person." Sophia cheered this, smiling as if her words were a prediction of the future. "With whom you will feel that everything is in the right place."

Sighing, you tried to master something close to a smile. "Thank you, Soph." As much as you wanted to share your worries with her, you couldn't because she could tell your father everything. "I'm so exhausted I could fall asleep right here."

"Go rest," she mused, watching you go upstairs. "Tomorrow your father and I are going to visit my family."

"Good luck with that." You replied before disappearing from her vision.

It was obvious that you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, thanks to the endless thoughts that looped in your head like a broken record.

Why did you ever think that a man like Bateman could really take you seriously? You felt deceived, embarrassed and madly frustrated, because at the end of the day, Patrick was just playing with you like a toy, twisting you perfectly around his finger. 

Fidgeting in your bed, you accidentally recalled the memories of the day he was here - you could still feel the remnants of his hypnotizing cologne as your sheets smelled of him. A lonely tear slid down your cheek, outlining the beautiful shape of your face - now so dull and dejected. 

If only you could rewind time and not allow him to get close to you, not even for an inch. Sobbing, you curled up like a kitten, pressed your knees to your chest and tried to drift off, but every time you closed your eyes - his gorgeous face popped up in your mind, making you believe that he really had blessed you with a curse. A curse to be obsessed with the man who would never be yours.

It had been a week since you had seen Bateman, and somehow you had even managed to live through your depression and hide it from your father, although it was quite difficult due to his numerous questions about your sad face and bad mood. At work, some of your co-workers were also trying to figure out what was wrong with you, so you finally decided to take a few days off to relax and get your life back on track.

In the morning of one of those days, you suddenly found yourself writhing on the sheets, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. With an irritated groan, you threw the blanket aside, accidentally touching your painfully hard nipples. 

Oh shit, not again.

Closing your eyes, you didn't even notice that you were dreaming about him for the third fucking time in a row. You let out a muffled gasp as your trembling hand snaked down your belly between your half-opened legs to the center of your desire.

It was just impossible to resist.

"Aww, Daddy," you moaned softly, imagining it was his hand caressing your taut folds. "Please...I need more..."

Embarrassed but absolutely horny, you spread your legs wider, letting your own digits slide along your dripping pussy, and kept picturing his beautiful face as he praised you for being such a good girl for him. 

A loud gasp echoed through your room at the memory of his velvety, deep voice, playing in your head as if Bateman was really here, next to you, his hand wrapped tightly around your trembling throat as he wanted nothing more than to bring you to your climax, to see you collapse right before his dark hazel eyes.

"Mmhm, Patrick..." you frowned and shivered, your ministrations growing more impatient as you rubbed circling motions into your throbbing clit while feeling the impending orgasm building in your core. "Patrick, Patrick, please!"

To muffle your obscene moans, you had to bite the pillow next to you as you reached your climax, never stopping to massage your feverish nub. 

'You are so naughty, Babydoll. Look at the mess you have made.'

The echo of his sexy voice resounded in your clouded mind, prolonging your intense orgasm and you couldn't help but cradle your breast, only to pinch your hard little tip as you craved more. 

But unfortunately, after the haze of ecstasy wore off and you were finally able to think clearly, the bitter realization that it was all an illusion washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you completely broken. It felt as if you had put all your energy into getting that high, and now you could barely move, feeling satisfied yet devastated.

Over the next few hours, you showered several times and refused to leave your room, no matter how much your father and Sophia tried to convince you. Shame and despair were eating you alive from the inside out, draining all your positive emotions like parasites.

Whenever you tried to distract yourself by reading, you were annoyed by your mind tricks because every character's name starting with the letter P automatically became 'Patrick'. 

You hated that man for infesting your mind, body, and soul. Before meeting Bateman, you even thought you were frigid, but now...now you were ready to climb on the walls from the consuming desire to be...possessed? Owned? Marked? 

A loud knock at the door interrupted your train of thought and you barely stopped yourself from squeaking - all these days, since you started having nasty dreams with Patirck, you felt like you were doing something bad and someone from your household could catch you. Quickly you approached the door to your room and after unlocking it, you let your vision - which turned out to be your father - in. 

"I thought you were taking a nap," he chuckled, but then his face changed when he saw your tired eyes. "Are you sure you're not sick, (y/n)?"

"I'm not sick, Dad," you rolled your eyes and crossed your hands over your chest, ready to be lectured again. "Did something happen? I was in the middle of proofreading."

Your father hummed, tilting his head to the side. "You took a few days off to work at home?"

Scowling with annoyance, you leaned against the door and mumbled: "It helps me relax and clear my head."

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that Patrick is here," you felt the ground disappear under your feet as he spoke. "He came to sign some papers and I thought you might like to join us in the living room. Soph made your favorite apple pie."

This information made your temples ache with tension, and you had to massage them to ease the stabbing pain. "Father, I... I'm not really in the mood for guests."

Especially when this guest was Patrick Bateman.

Your father just sighed and stepped back, which meant he wasn't going to try to convince you. Most of all, you hated to upset your family, even though you didn't want to see Bateman, not after the things that had happened to you during these long, crazy days.

"Okay, okay," you knew you would regret it, but now you didn't see any other option. "I'll be back soon."

With that, you closed the door, feeling the panic rising in your chest. It seemed that your father still thought that you were still on good terms with Patrick, since you had not told him anything about that damn dinner. Trying to pull yourself together, you quickly went to the mirror to freshen up a bit - the fact that you were worried about what Bateman would think of your appearance still bothered you, but there was nothing you could do about it.

Almost fifteen minutes later, you finally came downstairs, wearing a short black top and your favorite tight jeans, and no, you weren't trying to impress him - a little spice wouldn't hurt.

As you approached the living room, you began to hear a cacophony of different voices: your dad's, Sophia's, and another unfamiliar female voice that made you stop in confusion around the corner. Who was that?

"(Y/n), don't be shy, come here." Your father's comment made you frown and bite your lip in embarrassment as you felt like you were transferred back to your childhood.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the living room and immediately became the center of everyone's attention. Your eyes quickly found the owner of the unknown voice - a pretty blonde girl sitting next to Patrick with a small notebook in her elegant hands. 

Another blonde, huh? 

Putting on a friendly fake smile, you managed to hide your frustration and walked closer to the couch to take a seat next to your father, completely ignoring Bateman's intense gaze.

"Uh, this is Jean, Patrick's assistant," your father introduced the blonde girl to you, and she smiled shyly when you raised your eyes to her. "Jean, this is (y/n), my lovely daughter."

"Nice to meet you, (y/n)," Jean murmured and turned to look at Patrick, as if looking for his approval. When he said nothing, she continued. "Patrick has told me a lot about you."

"Really?" You replied skeptically, your hands already crossed over your chest as you desperately tried to keep your composure. "How nice."

Somehow your father managed to notice the growing tension between the two of you, and his little cough caught everyone's attention. "Sorry, my throat gets dry from time to time."

"No need to apologize, Mr. (y/l/n)," Bateman suddenly joined the conversation, causing you to almost jump in your seat. "How about your lovely daughter making us some drinks?" His white-toothed smile was blinding, but you did your best not to react to this provocation.

"Yeah, sure. I'll make them." You stood up quickly, seeing this as a great opportunity to escape.

"Let me help you!" Jean suddenly suggested.

"No no no, you don't have to!"

"Hey, let her help you," Patrick put forward and tapped Jean's knee several times, which you couldn't miss. "It's better not to refuse people's help, because we live in such a cruel world. You know what I mean, (y/n?)" 

His smug wink at you made your hands clench into fists, but you decided not to argue with him and just stumbled out of the living room, hearing Jean's soft footsteps behind you.

In the kitchen, the two of you didn't try to strike up a conversation, feeling uncomfortable but not hostile. With casual confidence, you took out two glasses and three cups under the attentive gaze of Patrick's assistant.

"Whiskey for the boys and coffee for the girls," you hummed to yourself, finally glancing at Jean, who was standing shyly in the doorway. "Maybe you want something else?"

"No," she gasped when you asked her. "Coffee is fine."

"Good."

As the blonde woman watched you make the coffee, she came closer and looked around the kitchen. "'Your house is very cozy."

"Thank you," you gave her a warm smile and picked up a silver tray for the cups. "My mother used to love an atmosphere like this," your sudden confession made you stop everything for a moment and Jean noticed your tension. "She would be very touched by your compliment."

The sad undertone in your words made the woman pause and think about what to say next, and you used the moment to get additional things for the coffee, including sugar, cream and vanilla. 

"I would only ask you to help me with this," you nodded at the nearly full tray. "And I'll take glasses and a bottle."

"Okay," Jean picked up some napkins before taking a deep breath. "Patrick was right when he said you were a lovely girl."

Frowning, you almost spilled the last cup of coffee when you heard those words. "Uh, I don't understand why you were talking about me at all."

"Well, we talked about you when I made the reservation for your dinner in Dorsia."

An awkward silence hung in the air for some time before you managed to pull yourself together and place all the cups on the shimmering tray. "Mmhm-yeah, that dinner was something, I have to admit," you let out a nervous chuckle, not wanting to remember the events of that evening. "Do you like him?"

"W-what?" Jean blushed almost instantly, her beautiful blue eyes averted from your curious gaze and she had to fix her stray lock of hair behind her ear. "He's my boss, and I like working with him."

"Is he a good boss?"

"Yes, he is."

Satisfied with her answer, you crossed your arms and grinned. "Glad to hear it, I mean seriously," you watched her bat her long eyelashes as you moved the tray over to her. "I think you two look great together."

Exhaling, Jean took the tray and giggled sheepishly. "What makes you think that anyway?"

"I just noticed the way he looks at you," you replied frankly, picking up the glasses. "Thanks for the help. Now I have to get a drink for the boys."

With that, you cast your most sincere smile before retreating from the kitchen, and once you were out in the hall, your face became blank and dull. The things you just said - were they just some kind of masochism? You kept asking yourself as you walked to your father's office, where he kept his favorite drinks that he only served to special guests.

Carefully, with cat-like grace, you touched a doorknob when you noticed that the door was half open. Concerned, you quickly turned around and when you saw no one, you quickly opened it and stepped inside, only to freeze in shock and it was a fucking miracle that you didn't let the glasses fall down on the floor.

Bateman was standing with his back to you, so at first you hoped he wouldn't notice, but as soon as you turned on your heels, the man spun around and the sight of you made him smile mischievously and absolutely charmingly.

"Wrong door?" Patrick chuckled and shifted his position so that you could now see him holding a bottle and a lit cigar in the other hand.

"You can't smoke in my house," you said in an irritated voice. "I'm serious."

"Oh, stop it," his mocking chuckle echoed in your ears, annoying you more and more. "Your father gave me permission. Besides, he told me he had a bottle of J&B, so I decided to take it myself, since you two were very slow."

Having said that, the man puffed on his cigar and blew several rings of smoke, causing you to cover your mouth as you started to cough. The sheer arrogance he radiated was poisonous and somehow suffocating, it was like a tight rope around your neck, no snuff could affect you like that.

"Why did you send Jean with me?"

"And why didn't you answer my calls?" Bateman interjected sternly, closing the distance between the two of you.

The sudden question made you lose your balance for a second. "Calls? What calls? I... I don't even understand what you're talking about."

With a cheeky grin, Patrick took a drag on his cigar and blew right into your face. "Hmmm, let me remember," he leaned against the door and cocked his head to the side. "The one right after dinner, and the one the next day, and the one two days after that."

It was strange, because all these days no one had ever told you about Patrick's calls, and you thought that if he had really made them, your father would definitely have told you, since he wanted you two to get along so much.

"All right, let's pretend that you really did call me, but I can't understand why?"

"You seemed very upset after dinner," the man strove to parry your provocative question, though his eyes glowed with the thrill of the challenge you were giving him. "I just wanted to check on you, since your old man is worried about you too much, and... I didn't need any trouble to close the deal."

Another disappointment.

"Business above all, huh?" No matter how hard you tried to hide the pain, your voice still sounded somber. 

"Shhh," his sudden touch on your lower lip caused something heavy to fall in your stomach. "Don't be like that, Babydoll. I'm just doing my job."

"Even now?" You taunted him blatantly, though your panting could be clearly heard in the room.

The sexual tension between the two of you was palpable in the air, but you both remained still, even when Bateman approached your neck to inhale your sweet scent, mixing it with the sharp smell of snuff.

What the hell were you doing? 

When Bateman pulled away to place the bottle on the nearby bookshelf, he grabbed the glasses you were holding so desperately that your fingers began to curl. Then the man squeezed the cigar between his white teeth and, with practiced ease, picked you up and carried you to your father's desk. As he set you down on the wooden tabletop, he didn't let you protest, pressing his large palm over your mouth.

"Now, now, little girl," he cooed, exhaling smoke before pulling you a little closer. "C'mere, I'm going to show you something."

Carefully but determinedly, Patrick grabbed your chin and drew you closer so that your mouths were barely an inch apart. Pressing his thumb along your lips, the man forced you to part them, and in the next moment, he blew some smoke into your mouth before sealing it with his own. Intoxicated by both the smoke and Patrick's sudden intrusion, your hands clutched desperately at his broad shoulders, cramping the expensive fabric of his pinstriped suit. After all these days of desperate need for his touch, this kiss was like a sip of water in the desert; it was vital and overwhelming. With every breath you took, Bateman's movements became bolder, less tentative and more demanding; his warm hand slipped under your short top to caress your shoulder blades with feathery strokes that almost drove you to moan against his lips, but you struggled to stop yourself.

"Patrick," you gasped after breaking the kiss. "What the hell are we doing?

"You tell me, Babydoll." 

"No, because it was you who told me you didn't want to be a babysitter. Did you forget?" 

When you tried to slide off the desk, he wouldn't let you, pressing you closer to his strong body and finally putting his cigar in the ashtray not far from where he was holding you. "I always remember my own words…" With that, he placed both his hands on either side of your knees before moving them slowly up along your hips and God, Bateman was doing it so damn slow on purpose, forcing you to jolt from the strange tension in your lower belly - the feeling that had become your personal drug. "Oh, don't pretend you don't like it. Your body speaks for itself."

You tried to pull away from him as you couldn't stand the way his hazel eyes were stripping you down, but the more you struggled, the more Patrick grew impatient, so he just yanked roughly by your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back and expose your delicate neck, which Patrick didn't miss the chance to mark, biting your tender flesh and then sucking the mark with a muffled groan.

There was something feral about him and that 'something' was making your body respond to his every touch, every little contact.

Nuzzling your cheek, Bateman lowered one of his hands to your bare stomach, drawing invisible lines along it before suddenly cupping your throbbing pussy through the tight material of your jeans, making you squeal and shake on the desk.

Just as Patrick was about to kiss you again, you both noticed a commotion coming from behind the door and then realized it was your father, you both didn't even have a chance to move as the door was quickly opened, revealing a very compromising picture.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[elryuse]

yandere ex girlfriend sohee?

MY CRAZY EX GF, IS DRIVING ME INSANE

YANDERE EX-GF SOHEE X MALE READER

Y/n was just an ordinary college student until he met Sohee, a dazzling K-pop idol whose beauty and charm captivated him from the moment they crossed paths. Even though Y/n was just an Ordinary College Student... Sohee somehow found him cute and unique from the rest.. This made Sohee really excited and started to approach him whenever she has the chance.

"Wow you are really cute.. What's your name"?

"Uhmm I'm Y/n. Lee Y/n.. You're that famous idol right? Sohee if I'm correct"?

"Bingo.. So do you want my autograph or maybe a picture"?

"Uhmm how about a phone number? Is that cool"?

" *Chuckle* You're funny Y/n... Alright then.. Here is your reward... XXX-XXXXXX_XXX".

"Wow... Is this for real"??

"Let's catch up later... Bye bye *wink* ".

After calling her up and starting to actually know Sohee better.. Y/n actually kinda feels like She was the one for him... He started to pay more and more attention for her, Missing out on some classes just to watch her performance.. And giving her all the best support he could ever give.

But one day... Sohee Cheated on Y/n. Which devastated him mentally and physically. He trusted Sohee with all of his life, he even almost gave up his college degree for her. And this is how she's repaying his time and effort? Y/n wanted Sohee to apologize, To feel ashamed to actually be responsible for their Relationship. But she never did.

Sohee Chooses her new "partner" Over Y/n. Which devastated him even more. But eventually Y/n moved on from her.. He started to pay more attention to his studies and started to actually be a pretty good college student.

"Sohee why the fuck are you sleeping with him? And why won't you answer my calls"?

"I'm tired... You're just not enough for me.. I needed something that you can't ever fulfill Y/n".

"Please.. I love you... I would have done anything for you Sohee.. For us.. So please tell me why".

"My friends keep telling me that you look boring... And I started to see it too.. You're to young.. And I'm basically 6 years older than you... So please.. Just go home.. Don't ever see me again".

"What!? That's it? You're gonna let me go, Just like that"??

"You're nothing to me Y/n. You never did.. ".

"Wow.. Just wow.. All this time... I've sacrificed all of my time... I guess.. I was too dumb to believe you.. ".

On the other side... Sohee has been treated like trash by her new "partner" Of hers. Her new partner was abusive, and liked to play with random girls around him. Sohee even found out that Her friends actually slept plenty of time with her new "partner" Which saddened Sohee even more.

Sohee finally realized in those moments, Just how hurtful it feels. To be betrayed by the person you trust the most. She started to regret her decision and started crying in her large penthouse. Sohee cried at the thoughts of actually staying in the relationship with Y/n. How happy she would be, Especially having a trustworthy Partner as Y/n.. Remembering the memories actually made Sohee chuckled little by little.

She remembered how he was very clumsy when he was cooking a dish for dinner. And would often burn his finger, Sohee would always take care of him and they would laugh the night away in Y/n small apartment. Remembering the memories made her even desperate to have him back. So She decided to call Y/n multiple times.

But he would never answer...

This made Sohee even more desperate... And in those desperate times, She realized the power that she had.. She's rich and has a powerful connection in this business world. She took the chance by forcing her way into Y/n's Life as possible as she can.

She would often sabotage Y/n's Workplace. By buying the ownership of the building (Office). Which means she could actually see Y/n all day long. But not long after that Y/n would leave this job and search for a new job. But Sohee never gave up... Her mind is only filled with how much she needs him... How desperate she is to actually be with him again.

And so, Day by day, Month by month. Sohee started to stalk Y/n. Y/n who feels that something was wrong immediately tried to look for the source of the inconvenience that he felt. But he didn't realize sooner that, His Crazy Ex Girlfriend would do some mad shit to own him again. To actually be his again..

She bombarded Y/n with gifts, love letters, and apologies, refusing to take no for an answer. Which creeps the living shit out of him. She would often knock on his apartment door, Ring the bell and would even stand on the other side of the room, Waiting for an answer from Y/n. In the end Sohee forces Y/n to meet her face to face. She forced his parents to actually accept her marriage letter... Which shocked Y/n to death. Since Y/n Can't do anything... He is now once again in the grasp of Sohee...

As soon as they got married, Sohee's obsession only intensified. She isolated Y/n from his friends and family, ensuring that he was completely dependent on her for validation and affection.

Terrified of losing Y/n again, Sohee resorted to extreme measures to keep him by her side. She sabotaged his job interviews, manipulated his social media accounts, and even went as far as to threaten anyone who dared to come between them.

And Just Like that... Y/n's free will was taken by force by Sohee... He was now an empty shell of a man that was once happy and cheerful. He's now stuck in the grasp of a Crazy Wife... Who would never ever let him go...

"You're mine forever Y/n...".

[pacifymebby]

What would each peaky boy be like with a wife who owns a bakery, one who pops round to meetings with fresh cakes and treats and stuff

This is a really cute request and really feeds my dream of having a bakery one day

Tommy

🌿 your bakery is quite small and easy to miss but once Tommy knows it's there tucked down a side street, pretty much just a hatch in the wall, he never goes a day without visiting

🌿 Always, no matter how busy he is, will take the time to stop by even if only for a second or two to say hello and pick up something to eat. You think he must really love your baking and he does think your breads the best he's ever had however, that's not the reason he stops by every day.

🌿 You'd joke about how he's going to eat you out of heart and home if he carries on like this and he'd very simply say, "Marry me love, then I won't have to will I..." Of course he's only teasing but the blush it paints on your cheeks is priceless and well, he does often wonder what it would be like to marry you.. no harm in putting the idea in your head.

🌿 He says the same thing every time you tease him for stopping by, which you do at least three times a week. It isn't that you're ungrateful for the business it's that you don't understand how a man as busy as Tommy Shelby has time to visit your little bakery every day and you don't understand why he'd want to.

🌿 this little routine, you teasing him, him making that joke, you blushing and going shy, carries on for months and months, it drags on so long that all your friends are certain he's not really joking, that perhaps Birmingham's most infamous has taken a liking to more than just your bread.

🌿 One day when he says it you smile, "if you keep saying that Mr Shelby one day I might just take you seriously..." And he pauses, mouth caught in a half smile, hands in his pockets as causal as you like he looks you up and down to work out whether you're teasing him. "And what would you say if you did?"

🌿 When you're married he'd help you set up a bigger bakery, hires you staff to help you run it, but you always keep your little shop too because that hatch in the wall holds a special place in both your hearts.

🌿 Whenever you think up a new recipe or you're experimenting with new flavours Tommy makes sure to be interested in what you're doing, listening to you when you tell him about your troubles "Thing is I don't know if it's salt I need, to bring out the sweetness, or if I'm just not using enough sugar and then there's the trouble with the Cherry jam it's too... Too..." "Jammy?" He'd tease, "wait no, too cherry flavoured eh, that it love?"

🌿 will be the first to try anything new recipe you've baked and will always give you an honest answer, unless somethings truly awful, then he won't tell you quite how bad it is because he doesn't want to break your heart.

🌿 He will try anything and everything you put in front of him but he has to admit his favourites are the more savoury treats you bake, anything with cheese is an instant hit with Tommy and sometimes, when he's had one of those weeks where he's stressed out, hardly eating at all, living off coffee whiskey and cigarettes, one of your cheese buns is the only thing that can tempt him to take his spectacles off for a moment, come out of his head and back down to earth, back to you.

🌿 Whenever there's a family meeting you always want to use it to get opinions on your baking so any new recipes are prepared specially for the family and you get in a real huff if anyone refuses to try your food... And Tommy always warns them in advance, threatening his brothers to "be fuckin nice yeah, try the cakes, be fuckin nice eh?"

🌿 Sometimes he brings Charlie into the bakery to see you and when you can tell that Tommy's particularly stressed you offer to take care of the young boy. He enjoys baking with you, making a mess with all the flour and sugar. He's your number one taste tester and every time he's in you get him to pick his favourite so that you can advertise whichever items he recommends as "recommended by little Charlie Shelby"

🌿 It sort of turns you into a bit of s matriarch within the family. Whenever anyone's having a party, whenever there's a birthday to prepare for, you're always kept busy baking cakes and sweet treats for the whole family. And when Charlie tells his cousins about the fun he has at the bakery they all want a turn decorating cakes and iced buns with you...

🌿 Tommy definitely falls in love with you a little more every time he drops into your little bakery in the late afternoon to pick his son up, to come face to face with your flour dusted features and your bright smile, watching you suck a little icing from your fingertip to test the sweetness.

🌿 He will almost always catch your hip in his hand, look down at you with longing in his eyes and murmur something sweet like "give us a try of that eh love..." sucking the icing straight from your pinky.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie has been coming to your bakery for a very long time, he remembers when your mother used to run things, remembers her Challah recipe by heart.

🐻 He would often turn up early in the morning before you were open, let himself in anyway and lean, white sleeves pushed up to the elbows against the counter waiting for you to turn up. "Thought you might fancy a little company this mornin miss y/l/n..." The first time he shows you're shocked and you can't hide it. You know he's infamous, a violent criminal who promises nothing but trouble... but you also know he's the baker of Camden town and that your mother was always quite fond of him...

🐻 So you can't turn him down. Not that anyone in their right mind would turn Alfie Solomons down...

🐻 You spend lots of time baking together in that kitchen, it's Alfie's favourite place to be, holed up cosy amid the yeasty smell of baking bread and the sweet scent of fresh pastries. He enjoys your company, enjoys getting close to you, using excuses such as "y'see ziskeit your problem yeahs, that you ain't leanin into it enough, you've gotta kneed with your whole body right, like this..." standing behind you, arms around your waist, kneeding the dough for you with you trapped between him and the counter watching him work.

🐻 You also have lots of little tiffs in the kitchen, him winding you up by putting things away in the wrong places or reorganising cupboards and shelves so that you don't know where any of your belongings are. Him getting tetchy with you when you insist you know a better recipe for something than he does.

🐻 However despite your tiffs Alfie never lets you talk yourself down... Whenever you have a new idea he's always quick to tell you you're a genius. Always calling you the cleverest girl in Camden town, always dramatically complimenting you. Even if something goes wrong, even if a cake isn't perfect or the bread you've baked doesn't quite rise properly he will hush any of your complaints with one finger to your lips, that contemplative frown on his brow

🐻 "Now just you mind what you're about to say yeah my little ziskeit, just you be very careful what words come out that pretty little mouth of yours next yeah because I've got somethin to say right... I've got something to say... This here yeah, it's bread right but... It don't feel right just calling it bread yeah, cause this here ain't any old bread, this bread right it's a fuckin work of art my little ziskeit, this bread right, it's a masterpiece, one of them modern wonders of the fuckin world right... So just you think very carefully yeah about what you're about to say..."

🐻 "Cause I won't put up with no bread slander today right, I've made up my mind and I just won't tolerate it..."

🐻 You teaching him how to delicately decorate cakes and pastries with ornate little designs. Him getting frustrated because his hands are too big and his fingers are a little too clumsy to master the finer details. You hugging him, kissing his cheek when you reassure him that his gingerbread men aren't "fackin elephant man ugly"

🐻 Your flower stained blush mirroring his flower stained blush when you both realise what you've just done.

🐻 When he's busy working all he wants is a visit from you and he always hopes you'll come down with something from the bakery. He literally sits there in his office pining for you and your "delights" as he calls them, and sometimes when you're late or you can't visit he sits there getting more and more grumpy, poor Ollie has to try and lighten the mood but just gets grumbled at.

🐻 And when you do come to visit Alfie at work he gets jealous when you bring stuff for the workers too and he chides you for "spoiling" them. He only does this because he loves the cheeky smile you give him as you sit down in his lap and offer him something sweet to try, "Don't worry Alfie I didn't forget about you..."

🐻 When he flees to Margate you open a bakery together on the seafront, he tends to hide away in the kitchen getting jealous when local boys come in and flirt with you, occasionally when he's feeling particularly protective he'll come out to spook them.

🐻 but for the most part that little bakery on the sea front is your own little slice of heaven, back in London he'd fed you the idea whenever you were getting worried about him and his business. Whenever you started to fear he was in too deep, making too much trouble for himself.

🐻 And now he's finally made good on that promise to you. It's just you, him and Cyril living a peaceful life together in Margate. The smell of freshly baked bread in the mornings, spending evenings together preparing the dough for the next day's batches.

🐻 You've definitely thrown a handful of flower at him multiple times, definitely "pied" him at least once for being a grumpy old martyr.

🐻 He's definitely given you that look, beckoned you over and instructed you to "clean up your mess now ziskeit, reckon you've had your fun with the fuckin creme patissiere..."

🐻 Scoops up said creme patissiere with his two fingers and feeds it to you, won't smile until your lips are closed round his fingers, your eyes locked with his.

Arthur

🍂 Sorry Arthur bby but...

🍂 I feel like he's a really messy eater, like he chews really gross and definitely talks with his mouth full... Crumbs everywhere, always spilling cream or jam down his shirt...

🍂 Which means you have to instruct him on how to eat your cakes and usually clean him up afterwards too. You have to break a piece of cake off for him and place some in his mouth giving him instructions "right close and chew..."

🍂 But no sooner has he closed his mouth and begun to chew is he forgetting himself again, opening his mouth to tell you how fucking lovely it is and you'd have to hush him up.

🍂 "Fuck me darlin this is fuckin delicious, fuckin heavenly..." he starts getting crumbs everywhere, you're watching exasperated but endeared all the same as he gets crumbs all over the floor and himself. You know there's nothing you can do about this.

🍂 You can't help laugh at him, he's so daft sometimes, doesn't seem to have any idea how funny he looks... But you get a cloth and wipe the cream from his mustache, giggling at him, him chuckling along too when he realises what he's done.

🍂 "Sorry love I can't help it, they taste so good I forget me manners..." "Excuses, excuses.." you tut only teasing him. He actually blushes.

🍂 Arthur loves your baking so much that whenever there's a family meeting he all but insists you bring sweet treats along for everyone.

🍂 "Please darlin I'm beggin you, how are we gonna survive Tommy's fuckin speeches without somethin to eat... He'll have us in there all night with nothin to eat... We'll starve if you don't bring us somethin sweet to eat..." he's so dramatic but you always comply, just rolling your eyes and teasing him. "God Arthur anyone would think you haven't just eaten five of these..." You grin packing tins full of pastries to take with you...

🍂 But he can't help it, he loves your baking and he loves you, thinks the sun shines out of you and your gifted hands so he wants to show off his talented girl and her delicious creations... Upon arriving he will very loudly announce that everyone needs to "fuckin shut up and listen to my Y/N cause she's brought everyone some new cakes to try and they're fuckin delicious..."

🍂 He'll make everyone try one, even Tommy and he'll glare at his brother until he says something nice about your baking.

🍂 "We're fuckin blessed right, to have such a fuckin talented baker in the family..."

🍂 You try to teach him to bake but honestly, he's clumsy, he makes a mess, he can't concentrate on the recipe because he's standing close to you and instead of having his hands in the mixing bowl he just keeps trying to grab you and hug you, can't keep his hands or his lips off you for long enough to get through even the most simple of cookie recipes.

🍂 Honestly if ever you've got something important to bake, a wedding or birthday cake, new stock for the shop you have to lock him out of the kitchen until you're done because he's too much of a distraction.

🍂 You have the fear whenever you're working on something delicate, you have to put signs on the doors reminding Arthur not to slam the doors when he comes home. When you hear him coming you brace yourself, hovering round your delicate creation, wincing when he forgets about not slamming the door.

🍂 "Arthur please my love!" "I know I know I'm sorry sweetheart I'll be careful" he says hands in the air all surrender and sweet, making an effort to tip toe and be careful, forgetting three seconds later much to your despair.

John

🌼 John gives me low-key earth sign vibes, not sun sign earth sign vibes but something else, like a moon perhaps? Anyway my point with that is that John definitely has a love of home comforts, mundane, little luxuries... He likes being spoiled with sweet treats. Likes coming home to find you baking with the little ones.

🌼 I mean he really loves it... There's nothing better than finishing a long day at the betting shop surrounded by drunk, rowdy men, to stop by the bakery on his way home only to find one of his children behind the counter, standing on a stool to help you serve customers. He can hear his other kids giggling in the kitchen and he practically jumps over the counter in excitement to see them and all the mischief they're getting up to whilst your backs turned.

🌼 Him asking for one of your finest cakes, and then when Katy holds her hand out to take his money he grins and says "Well y'see kitty my little love, I spent my last penny on flowers for your mammy so Daddy was hoping he could pay with a kiss eh?"

🌼 When she agrees she's very cheeky, she sighs dramatically and says "fine but just this once..." and when he scoops her up and kisses her cheek about to take the cake from her hand she holds it back and says "one more for mammy."

🌼 So he slips behind the counter and slinks his arm around your waist pulling you away from your work to give you a very dragged out, much needed kiss. The kind he really shouldn't be giving you in front of the customers... Not when there's a queue.

🌼 You shoo him away so that you can get back to work telling him to go and sort his little hellraisers out in the kitchen.

🌼 But John doesn't want you to "get back to work" and so once he's rounded the terrors up and helped them clean up their mess in the kitchen he's right back ar your side, gruffly announcing to the line of customers that the bakeries closed and it's time to go home. Each and every one of your attempts at protest is silenced with a kiss and when you open your mouth to argue with him about it again he takes one of the cakes from the counter and puts it in your mouth to silence you so that in your shock there's nothing for you to do but take a bite, chew and cover your mouth to hide your messy giggle.

🌼 "Can't bloody believe you John Shelby! You're a bloody n..." "Irresistible, devilishly handsome, doting husband? I know love you don't need to tell me..." he teases taking the cake from your hands and helping himself to a bite. "Come along flower, we're all waiting for you, we wanna go home..."

🌼 And when faced with John and the wide doe eyes of all your little ones looking like angels now that dad's come and got them into shape... Well you can hardly refuse them.

🌼 Uses "Teach me how to bake love..." as a premise to get some time with you whilst you're working, his minds really not on baking though he is thinking of putting one in the oven...

🌼 At least one of your children have been conceived in that kitchen...

🌼 When you bring the children with you to family meetings so they can give everyone the cupcakes they made, John gives his brothers warning looks like "you will eat these very girly lookin cupcakes and you will tell my girls they're the best thing you've ever eaten!" he makes a big song and dance of telling everyone how amazing they taste.

🌼 Has started food fights in the kitchen with the kids. Has started food fights with his brothers at family meetings because he wasn't satisfied with Tommy's "wow Katy these are really good..."

🌼 Has definitely defused an argument with you by putting a handful of batter in your hand and instructing you to throw it at him. "C'mon flower, you're pissed off with me ain't you, fuckin throw it if you think I deserve it..." then being shocked and a little bit wounded when you actually do throw it... Arms around you immediately play wrestling with you to get his revenge.

🌼 And this usually ends up with the two of you kissing, wiping cake mix from one another's faces, closing the kitchen door so that your customers can't hear how you really resolve a fight...

🌼 Always making special requests, his favourite things you bake are your berry pies and he gets such a huff on when you inform him that you can't make anymore because the berries in question are out of season anymore. "Fuck the seasons.." gets genuinely cross he can't peaky blinder style intimidate the literal seasons.

Bonnie

🍀 It's unsurprising that Bonnie has quite the appetite considering a) he's a growing lad, and b) he's a boxer, always training, always exhausting himself in the ring...

🍀And yet once he finds your bakery, he's never too tired to stop in after a long day training, and you can't deny you don't look forward to seeing that oh so slightly mischievous smile every evening... so much so that sometimes you stay open just waiting for him to drop by.

🍀 He's always very sweet to you, always leans on the counter chatting away to you whilst he eats the sweet buns you save especially for him... It takes him a little while to realise that's what you're doing but when he works it out, that you hold treats back for him and you even stay open a little later waiting just for him he becomes a butterfly filled mess. Feels really proud, starts cheekily calling you things like "my favourite girl"

🍀then he starts stopping in early too, gets up at the crack of dawn just so he can drop by your bakery on his way to the boxing gym. He uses the excuse that he's hungry, that he needs to fuel himself up for the day but really it's because he wants to see more of you. Wants to get you alone.

🍀He joins you in the kitchen, sometimes helping you out, sometimes just sitting on the counter admiring you whilst you work, being a pest getting his fingers in the jam, pinching the strawberries you've carefully halved to top your pastries.

🍀 You're constantly swatting his hands away and threatening to kick him out but by now you both know you never will. That little crush you thought you might have on the young boxer has flourished and you wake up every morning looking forward to seeing him. In the hours between him leaving in the morning and returning to you after training your little bakery feels so empty and lonely without him.

🍀When he pinches some cherries from the top of one of your pies you gasp in frustration about to give him a scolding but when he sees you, your cheeks flushed that glow of annoyance in your eyes he can't help chuckling at you, telling you he's sorry, saying "c'mere dove, I'll share..." youre about to refuse when you catch the pining look in his eyes, the way he looks at you with such a quiet pining... it lights sparks inside you, leaves your heart racing, makes you feel very forgiving.

🍀So you give in and roll your eyes, say fine, come on share then... and though you expect him to place a cherry in your palm instead he plucks one from the stem and pushes it to your lips, watching you breathlessly as you take it in your mouth and sink your teeth into it. A little juice escapes your mouth and stains your lips and the corner of your mouth deep, sweet red.

🍀And he leans in without even thinking about it, kisses the corner of your mouth to catch the juice before it can trickle further and make a mess of your pretty face.

🍀You don't get much baking done after that and the cherry pie youd been labouring over is left forgotten about on the side whilst you and Bonnie get thoroughly lost in eachother.

🍀From then on Bonnie stops in on you twice a day every day, he walks you to and from the bakery morning and night and quite often makes up excuses to bring you back to the caravans at night. The first time you meet his family you're so nervous, wanting to impress them, the way Bonnie's been spending all his time outside the gym "elsewhere" people have begun to talk and so everyone is curious to meet the girl who has stolen his heart.

🍀You bake plenty of delicious buns and breads to gift them trying to make a good first impression and Bonnie is insistent that you really shouldn't have done, that they'll love you regardless of whether you bribe them with food, but secretly he just wants to keep you and your baked goods all to himself. "If everyone knows how good these are they'll all be coming here and then there'll be none left for me!" He says taking another bite from his second cinnamon bun of the afternoon.

🍀He stops talking however when you catch the stray icing hes got on his cheek and suck it off your finger, "Don't be daft Bonnie, I'll always save enough for you."

🍀He goes foraging for berries and fruits, always bringing you wild herbs he's picked that he thinks you'll be able to do something good with, sprigs of lavender and such to weave into your more intricate designs. His favourite thing however is to convince you to close up shop for the day and go foraging with him, taking you out into the country on the back of his pony, showing you all the best places to find your favourite herbs and flowers.

🍀 Pulling you down into the long grass beneath the trees, cradling you in his lap after a long walk, smothering you in kisses and affection.

Isaiah

🐀 Being the quiet, earthy homebody that you are you're not exactly Isaiah's type. He wouldn't even have met you had it not been for Michael dragging him out to your bakery one morning, insisting that you bake the best pastries in town.

🐀 And at first Isaiah is cynical, "fuckin pastries for breakfast are you soft lad, you eat fuckin pastries for breakfast... Them toffs who raised you really mess with your head didn't..." he's still taking the piss out of Michael when they walk into your bakery but one look at you steals the end of his sentence straight from his lips.

🐀 Because even with a light dusting of flour over your nose, your cheeks rosy from the heat of the oven, stray hairs escaping your pretty little hair scarf, he thinks youre the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on and suddenly he's swallowing all his snide remarks.

🐀 and suddenly he's a little embarrassed, a little uncertain of himself because he's realised he's out of his depth when he wants to charm you. You're so different from the other girls in his life that he just doesn't know what to say to you.

🐀 "Would you like to try something sir?" You ask, your softness literally melting Isaiah. Michael is just sniggering a little smug because he'd known this would happen all along. This was his plan all along.

🐀 And then Isaiah realises that if he plays up to being clueless you will give him all the attention he desires offering for him to try different things, explaining what each item is...

🐀 You're surprised when Isaiah comes back the next day without Michael, you honestly weren't expecting to ever see him again.. it was clear to you that the bars and clubs were more his scene, that he'd choose whiskey and dancing over tea and cake anyday... But clearly Isaiah has his heart on the best of both worlds, he goes out at night with the peaky lads, raises hell and then visits you to see the soothing sight of your angel face every morning.

🐀 His curiosity impresses you though and every morning you pick something out special for him to try... You've heard what he gets up to on his Saturday nights and on Sunday morning you make sure you've got just the right cure for his sore head and jaded eyes.

🐀 Then one morning he doesn't show and you begin to worry about him, when Michael drops by you ask after his friend and though at first Michael laughs, giddy with mischievous excitement when he realises his friends been visiting the sweet little baker every morning... Then however he tells you Isaiah's in the hospital, got caught up in some unpleasant business. He doesn't tell you it's Peaky Blinders business but you know what he means...

Michael

🐀 And you're horrified to learn that the charming Peaky boy you'd grown rather fond of is hurt, so you beg Michael to take you to see Isaiah in the hospital. Michael genuinely can't hide his amusement as you busy yourself making up a basket of sweet and savoury treats for Isaiah, he's just watching you fuss over the hardened peaky lad, can't wait to rip the piss out of his friend who's clearly got an admirer.

🐀 And when you turn up at the hospital placing the basket down at Isaiah's bedside he's shocked... A little embarrassed at the way his attachment to you has been revealed so dramatically. But he's also touched, also beginning to realise how nice it is to have some consistency, how much he loves having someone so homely and comforting to take care of him.

🐀 So he invites you to stay, tells Michael to piss off and he lets you feed him one of the sweet buns you brought him. He's being extra charming, flirting with you, teasing you for your having visited him... "Anyone would think you were me girlfriend coming here an spoilin me like this darlin..."

🐀 You're speechless, you don't know what to say to him but you get very flustered and he thinks that's adorable so he puts you out of your misery very quickly, "can't say I'd mind that me like, havin you as me girlfriend... Lookin after me when I've been through the wars..." "If you want to be my boyfriend Isaiah Jesus you'll have to stop all this scrapping... I don't want to spend every Sunday in the hospital with you..."

🐀 But of course it's not the last time Isaiah winds up in the hospital and every time he does you bring him a basket of sweet treats... It makes him rather popular with the rest of the peaky boys who start dropping in on him much more often so that they can pinch treats from that basket when he isn't looking.

🐀 He asks you to teach him how to bake but much like John he can't keep his hands off you for long enough to learn. He does have quite nimble hands though and so eventually he gets very good at plaiting bread dough with you.

🐀 He's always bragging to Michael and Bonnie about you, he'll bring something from the bakery down to the Shelby offices or the boxing gym just so that he can eat it slowly taunting them about how good it is. "Ah ah boys hands off, my girl made this one just for me..."

☘️ You're so stubborn though he realises this is an argument he's not going to win so eventually he settles for a compromise. You can keep your bakery, keep your little business as long as he can be involved somehow. So he insists on helping with your accounts and being involved in the financial side of things... which you're really rather pleased about as you've never liked running the accounts, numbers aren't your friend and you find it so dull being stuck at a desk when all you want is to be in the kitchen.

☘️ Isn't happy that his girl has a job... he should be able to provide for both of you, he earns enough to spoil you rotten and yet you still insist upon working in that bakery.

☘️ But before you met Michael that bakery was your whole life, you've worked so hard to have a bakery all of your own, to have a business that belongs to you, to be able to make a living from something you love and you're not about to give that up for Michael just because he doesn't understand how much your work means to you...

☘️ And when Michael gets involved with the bakery and you begin to work at it together to grow the business you start trying to use it as a pitch to convince him to go straight, to leave his brothers corruption behind and settle for a humble but comfortable life, a safe life with you.

☘️ Of course that never works, Michael has ideas beyond his station, he likes the luxury which comes with being a gangster, he's enamoured by the glamour and fame which comes with being a Peaky Blinder...

☘️ Instead what ends up happening is that your bakery gets dragged into the Shelby business... When the lads hear about the delicious treats you bake they start coming up with excuses to hold their business meetings in your kitchen where they have access to all the delightful treats you bake fresh from the oven. But they're all so charming and Michael never lets them get up to any trouble so you grow quote fond of having them around.

☘️ You're very dedicated to your craft and Michael gets frustrated when sometimes he feels you pay more attention to bread than to him. He will tell you he's taking you out for dinner, ask you to be ready by seven and then find that you aren't even home... When he goes to find you at the bakery youre dusted head to toe in flower, nowhere near suitably dressed up to go to some fancy restaurant.

☘️ And you always look so genuine when you gasp and apologise for having lost track of time, when you start ranting about how you were just desperately trying to perfect this recipe, that you'd tried one idea and almost set fire to the kitchen so had had to start again, then you'd tried this other idea and it was almost right but not quite and that well, you really just wanted to perfect it so that you could bring it home for him to try because you wanted it to be perfect for him...

☘️ Well he thinks you're the sweetest girl in the world and he can't stay mad at you for very long. He loves that at the end of all that you were actually thinking about him all along, trying to bake the perfect treat just for him... He loves that you wanted it to be perfect for him, it makes him feel really special.

☘️ "Ah well never mind eh love," he sighs taking your cheeks in his hands to brush the flower from your face and kiss your nose, "the corrinthian can wait eh, got everything I need right here..."

☘️ He'll even try to help you with your projects sometimes even though he really doesn't like getting his hands dirty. He'll do it for you, just as long as no one else is around to see him doing some "real work"

☘️ Loves being spoilt by you, loves that you value his opinion above everyone else's. Gets a little wounded when you want to take something to a family meeting to ask everyone to try because "my opinion not good enough for you now love?"

☘️ You always have to pacify him with a kiss and a reminder that his opinion is of course the most important.

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[the-fiction-witch]

Little Girl

Media TMR

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Smut!

Semi-NonConsentual / Breast play / Nipple play / fingering / eating out / raw sex / jizz / creampie / riding /

I sat pouting. Surrounded by stone in one of the slammer cells. My wrists tied together with harsh rope. The boys had thrown me in here for three nights with no food given what I did. But he deserved it, the little perv! But they didn't listen to my side. All Alby needed to know was I harmed another glader and thus I'm locked in here. I saw light approaching the glimmering spark of gold and red flame getting closer it was long since dinner so most boys would be in bed I didn't want to look expecting another lecture from Alby but no.

"Hi love" 

My neck snapped fast towards the wooden cage door where he now sat the lantern beside him. His little brown shoes in the dirt, a wrap around his bad ankle, his brown tattered trousers, his orange vest just poking over his once white hoodie, his bandage around his arm and his messy blonde hair, he leant on the wooden cage and smiled down at me 

"What the shucking hell do you want!"

"Just popped by to check your comfy little girl"

"Don't call me that!"

"Why not? You're a girl? And you ever so cute and wh-ittle" 

"What do you want newt?"

"Well… perhaps seeking an apology?"

"An apology!"

"Yes"

"You've got more of a chance of marrying a griever than getting an apology out of me for what you did!"

"Awww come on. I was only playing"

"You hid in the showers! Your lucky you only for off with a few bruises before the boys found us. They left me any longer I'd have broke your nose" 

"I was meerly checking the shower was safe for a little girl"

"Liar you little perv!"

"Fine maybe I was in there but that's no excuse for you to hit me like that"

"What do you want? Because you can shove your apology up your blonde British butt" 

"Fine" he smirked as he began untieing and opening the door jumping down to be inside with me and shutting the door again "hi little girl"

"What do you think your doing"

"Well… when a little girl is locked up in the slammer with her denying hands tied up, you can't blame me for not wanting to waste… such an opportunity" he smirked 

"Oh no you -" I began trying to move but he grabbed me wrapping his arms around me sitting me on his lap with his chest against my back

"Ah ah ah little girl. Let's just stay here a little while just you and me" he smirked 

"You so anything I'll scream so loud all the boys will here"

"No you won't. Because if you do I'll tell them I came to tell you how I forgave you and you flipped out and attacked me. Your on thin ice as it is Alby will banish you for that"

"You evil little bastard"

"Humm if that's what you wanna call me love" he smirked his hands quickly finding my breasts 

"Ughh! Newt stop!"

"Why should I? Ummm trust me you felt these you wouldn't wanna stop either" he growled in my ear as he fondled and squeezed my breasts often holding them to feel the weight of them in his hands, making sure he squeezed tight. He ignored my squirms and whines shifting me back to sit so his erection sat against my ass

"You're a disgusting little perv newt!"

"I know, but how am I meant to help myself?" He smirked purposely pinching my nipples and tugging on them to force them to harden and as soon as they did he grabbed my breasts in his hands and rubbed in my nipples with his thumbs he chuckled evily "what a cute little girl you are? When your pouting like you don't like it"

"Newt let me go!"

"Maybe I would if you tell me you don't like it, sitting here above my cock grinding on me, while I play with these sexy tits." He smirked and I staid silent "I didn't think you could you dirty little girl" he smirked twisting my nipples a little

"AHH that hurts!"

"Yeah? Well I've had to walk around the glade with a hard on since you got here. Don't you think that hurts love?" He smirked starting to slightly hump against my ass and his hands moved to the hem of my shirt forcing it off me 

"Newt!"

"Awww it's okay, no need to be shy, nothing I haven't seen before." He smirked "but… bloody hell you look good with your top off" He smirked grabbing them much harder

"What the hell do you mean!"

"Well… let's just say this wasn't the first time I've snuck in your shower" he whispered

"You perv!"

"Can you blame me ? How is anyone meant to resist you little girl?"

"Everyone else does!"

"You really think that? You should hear the boys when you go walking around in shorts. Humm were all like lions in heat around you" 

"Let me go"

"No way love" he smirked moving a hand down to undo my shorts and forcing his fingers inside rubbing under my panties "awww I can feel how wet you are little girl" 

"Slim it!"

"Ohh yeah, you dirty little thing" he growled groping my breast hard and rubbing on my clit clearly trying to move his fingers lower but I clamped my legs shut "awww no no. Let's keep this nice and wide for me little girl" he smirked forcing my legs apart 

"Let me go!"

"Now where is… AHH there you are. Let's see how bad my little girl is craving me really" he growled as his fingers found my entrance and as much as I tried to resist he pushed two fingers are first just inside then pushing as deep inside as he could flicking his fingers as he did making me squeal but he clamped a hand over my mouth "ohh shuck you're dripping down my hand y/n. This is gonna be fun" he smirked biting his lip as his hand held me tightly and his fingers worked mercilessly finger fucking me fast and hard letting my wetness drip down my legs he held my mouth so I couldn't scream even If is hand left sometimes to fondle my breasts as he worked clearly very much enjoying himself until he pulled his hand away and licked his fingers clean "ummmm you taste good little girl. I want more" he growled pushing me off his lap and into the dirt on my stomach he wasted no time slapping my ass hard "ughhh oohh yeah. You bad bad girl" he growled forcing my shorts down slapping me a good few times "you have no clue how much I wanna do this every time this teasing little ass walks past in the gardens." He smirked pulling my panties to the side "awww what a cute little pussy for a cute little girl" he smirked and he then began spanking me hard digging his nails in and spreading my cheeks as much as he could and I felt my wetness drip out of me "ohhh bloody hell- my dirty little girly" he growled before he began kissing and licking my exposed pussy moaning too himself as he did I did my best not to scream but at the same time I was so worried if someone found us like this when he pulled back he smirked and pushed me onto my back and forced my legs as wide as possible "ummmmm you are beautiful" he growled licking his lips before holding my thighs tightly and returning to his passionate licking and now sucking even at times using his tounge to replace his fingers all while I squirmed and tried to hide the pleasure of it his hand moved up grabbing my breast fondling and rubbing on my nipple as he locked and sucked 

"Newt stop please-"

"Awww why? My little girl gonna cum for me? Make sure you tell me I wanna watch you twitch and squeal when you cum for me" he demanded 

"Stop please!"

"Maybe I'll stop once I see my life girl naked" he demanded ripping my bra off and my panties I did my best with my tied hands to hide myself but that only seemed to amuse him more "let me see little girl." He smirked forcing my hands above my head "bloody hell… uhhhh shuck- just look at that body. I should walk you around the glade naked so every boy can get a look just how good you are"

"No please-"

"Aww that's okay, it can be our little secret. My little girls bodies all mine" he growled fondling, pinching, slapping, groping anything he could get his hands on which was unfortunately everything even tickling me to make me squirm more for him all with his evil low laugh "what a fun little toy you are little girl. But I've had enough toying" he growled moving bayabs undoing his pants pushing them down enough to reveal his erection "come on."

"No!"

"Your gonna ride me. Or I'm forcing you in your stomach make your mind up"

I pouted but went over sitting on his lap letting him stroke my ass as I sat there 

"Awww what a good little girl your being for me. Maybe all this time all you needed wa a good fuck" he smirked pulling my cheeks apart before he found his way inside me "uuuuuuuhhh! So tight! Ohh yeah! You are a tight little fuck aren't ya? Don't worry I'll loosen you up little girl" he smirked holding my hips to make me bounce on him admittedly it was amazing but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of my pleasure as he was he smirked staring at my breasts as I bounced "you know if you ever want out of some garden work? I'm more then happy to strike up a deal little girl."

*What sort of deal?"

"how about you get to blow off weeding if you blow me. Or I'll let you have an extra break for a few slaps on that sexy ass. Hummm I'll even let you get off work early so long as my little girl comes and bounces on my cock in the garden shed" be smirked 

"Not on your life"

"No? Why are you still bouncing then little girl?" He smirked and I noticed he has adopted guiding me completely his hands just in my ass 

"You pervy bastard"

"I know, so? Im not far off you want me to bury it? Glaze your tummy? Or you wanna get on your knees and let me fill your mouth up?" 

"Just a little longer"

"Yeah? How about I just bury it in your pretty pussy and let my baby ride on me as much she needs Hu?" He smirked 😘 my neck and jaw I nodded and he only smirked more "yeah? That what my little girl wants? Humm If you cum on my cock I'll know how bad you want me. And I'll never leave this sexy body alone again" he smirked slapping my ass

"You started this!"

"Yeah and if you want to cum you have to admit you love it."

"And if I do?"

"Then your mine little girl. And I'm gonna fucking destroy you every time that little ass makes me horny" he smirked thrusting up hard 

"Uhhh fine!"

"Yeah?"

"Fine newt!"

"Yes! Ughh fuck come here!" He growled holding me tight as he pushed me onto my back and loomed over me never pulling out as he did proceeding to pound my pussy mercilessly pulling my lips to his to muffle our lustful moans until I suddenly hit my wall digging my nails into his arms as my eyes rolled back and I squirted down his cock "uuhhhh fuck little girl. Uhhh my tight little pouty girly just came down my fucking cock uuuuuuuhhh- I need you so bad- I'm so close - just a little - uuughhhh!" He groans burring himself as deep as possible and collapsing on me 

"You are a perv newt" I gasped

"I know" he gasped back he slowly pushed himself up and pulled out cleaning himself off on his hoodie "ummmm you look so good like that"

"Like what?" I asked as I hadn't moved

"Laid on your back. Completely naked. Legs open. Tits bouncing. Honey glow across your skin. Dripping my jizz out your pussy" he smirked "umm my little girl." He smirked stroking from my lips to my pussy "give me five minutes and I'll finish in your ass this time" 

"That a promise?" I asked climbing into his lap wrapping my arms around his neck 

"You bet that cute little ass I am" he smirked slapping my ass and pulling me into an intense make out. "Uhhh- I don't need five minutes" he growled as he pulled away and forced me back down on my stomach 

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Hi, please, please, please! I need a premise where Simon finds a pregnancy test in the house he shares with his wife believing it is hers, upset and anxious he asks her for explanations, without giving her the time to give an answer. The test was his girl's sister's ❤️ :')

A Good Father

Ghost x Wife!Reader

Ghost is anxious about being a father.

SFW, Extreme Fluff, Husband!Ghost, Wife!Reader, Comfort, Pregnancy Scares, Domestic, Softness, Vulnerability, Awkward Conversations, Innocent Misunderstandings, I'm reluctant to say there's humor, Scarcely Proofread, Drabble

Personally, I do feel like Ghost would be flustered if he found out his wife was pregnant with his first child. HOWEVER, I don't think he would act rude or distant or cold. Not on purpose. This is how I interpret that I guess. And thank you anon, this was an interesting topic. If you have anymore please don't be shy! ^^

Masterlist

It'd been an accident when he found it, and the kind of accident that could put a man six feet under if you weren't careful.

It was a sunny and rare fall day in which Simon had been let off work before you for once; a welcome change to his usual routine, as he'd been looking forward to surprising you.

He started with the kitchen, knowing it had been one of your least favorite places to clean. He washed and put away the dishes before wiping down the counters, making quick work with sweeping before mopping. In the blink of an eye he'd already straightened up the living room, which made the dining room light work in comparison. All that had remained was the bathroom, your second least favorite room to clean.

When he arrived home and saw you were gone, he'd thought to himself -- What would be a better surprise than coming home to your man and a clean home? It hadn't been as often as he liked where he was given such an opportunity, so he jumped at the chance without question the second the idea popped into his mind.

There hadn't been much to contend with, a few misplaced clothes and some used towels. He'd just begun picking things up when he'd suddenly heard something small clatter against the bathroom tiles. Finally he saw the tiny, long piece of white plastic sitting tucked between the toilet and the counter -- A pregnancy test.

At first glance Simon froze, unsure as to what exactly he was even looking at. It hadn't been every day he was faced with these sorts of things; you'd only recently broken the record for being the longest relationship he's been in. So when he saw it, his mind hadn't wanted to jump to conclusions. Not at first...

...But when he picked it up off the floor and felt the thing in his hands, it was as the whole world had stopped. His brown eyes skimmed over that red plus sign at the corner of the test and reality felt anew. A positive result.

A number of emotions ran through Simon, though none could be more certain than the sudden shakiness to his grip and the tightening of his jaw. A pang of nausea coarsed through him, soon followed by a sudden guilt for that. He must have stood in that bathroom for a solid three minutes before his thoughts had somewhat gathered...

Pregnant. You were pregnant, and you didn't tell him. Why? Had you not planned on keeping it, or were you simply just waiting to break the news to him?

Robotically, naturally, Simon finds himself continuing with what he was doing before, throwing the test away and continuing with cleaning. He hadn't known what else to do really; anything else and he may just storm out and call you about it.

But no, he wouldn't do that. He couldn't. His emotions are just out of sorts now and he's confused. There wouldn't be a point in channeling that confusion into anger and taking it out on you, especially since you're the one with the answers.

The final thing to clean had been the mirror. As Simon began to wipe the glass down, he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection. There he sees the battered husk he barely recognized at times. A father.

It felt unreal. Both too good to be true and a waking nightmare. He'd always dreamed of being a father some day, perhaps, in a different life which allowed him to be a part of his child's world in the proper way that he had desired. Some parts had been out of spite of his own father, having had some subliminal need to prove to a ghost what a real parent looks like. Other parts of him genuinely longed for a family of his own, and something he could be a part of from the start and see through to the end. To be a father would make him the happiest man alive.

Yet he wasn't ready, not now. Not in ways in which he felt he could really be of any use to you and your child. He feared every bit that could replicate his own childhood into his life today. There had still been so much of himself he'd felt needed to be set right before bringing someone into this world under him. He'd just wanted this moment to be perfect...

Simon didn't bring it up when you got home. Seeing the excitement on your face to see him nearly made him forget about the whole ordeal entirely. But it lingered on his mind like a heavy weight, and you could see it.

You asked him if he was OK, and despite himself he'd told you he was fine, only tired. He'd hoped that perhaps you might bring it up yourself, though you don't, merely continuing about the evening as usual.

Dinner was awkward, mainly do to Simon's stoic behavior, even moreso than usual. He stayed up to watch a movie with you, though he hadn't said much at all during it, forgoing his usual jokes and one-liners.

It hadn't been until you'd crawled into bed next to him that he finally spoke, though it hadn't been what you expected to hear.

"Do you think I'd make a good father?"

The question catches you off guard and you laugh and little, rotating yourself in his arms and resting your chin on his chest to look at him. From there you've felt his fluttering heartbeat dancing anxiously against your palms.

"Of course I do, Si'," you say. "Why?"

He's quiet again. Even in the dark you know those brown eyes are sifting through the room, looking anywhere but where you are. His hands over you shuffle slightly, and he sighs. "I have my doubts sometimes."

"I don't know why," you smile. "You're one of the best men I've ever met. I've always thought you'd make good "dad" material."

Simon can't help but smile. "Is that right?"

"I mean you've already got the dad jokes down," you tease. "What more do you need?"

You both laugh lightly to each other, and Simon feels a warmth grow in him that only you seem able to bring forth. Even when you know something is on his mind, you go out of your way to make him smile first. It's these reasons he loved you.

"Is this your way of saying you're interested in... trying?"

Unsure of what ruse you were playing now, and no longer being able to hold himself back any longer, Simon sits up, signaling to you that this was about to become something much deeper than anticipated.

"No," he says rather coldly. Too blunt for what he'd intended.

"Oh," you say, unable to hide the disappointment in you tone. You then look up to him, confused. "Is something the matter? You've been acting odd since I got home."

"I'm just wondering when you're going to break the news to me."

"The news?"

"Your first step into motherhood."

You pause. "My... what? What are you on about?"

"I found the pregnancy test."

You pause again, audibly making a confused "oop" noise as you tried to figure out what it was your husband was talking about. "Pregnancy test?"

The confusion in your tone now only makes Simon pause. "Yes," he says. "A pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test."

You're sitting there racking through your brain now, trying to recall when it was you took this said test. Having brought it up, all the thoughts Simon's had little time to sort through can't help but spill from him now.

"I'm not mad," he leads with. "I'm just... I wasn't...

"Oh!" You interject suddenly, a light bulb going off over your head. "That was my sister's!"

"...Wha'?"

"My sister came over this morning. She didn't want our mom to find it so I said she could do it here," you explain, before chuckling. "Though I'm gonna have to yell at her later since can't clean up after herself... Didn't mean to spook you though, love."

Simon sits there silent and frozen, still processing the last minute. "...So you're not pregnant then?"

"No," you laugh. "Not that I know of anyway."

No. He won't be a father after all. If he'd felt his emotions swirling earlier, they've torn into a twister now. He won't be a father.

It disappointed him, despite his reluctance earlier. Had he been looking forward to it more as the day went on? This was for the best, nonetheless. Now at least he could breathe again.

"Fuckin' hell," Simon lets out a heavy sigh, a boulder of stress dropping from his shoulders like a landslide. "Don't scare me like that, love. Y'nearly did me in with that."

You smirk, climbing back onto Simon until your legs were straddling him against the bed. You lean forward, letting your nose brush his and his breath detail his presence to you in the dark. Before you've kissed him, you linger there for a spell, simply marinating in the moment.

"I still think you'd make a wonderful father, Si'."

You feel him sigh, his body sinking comfortably beneath you, as you've felt his callous palms cup your cheeks gently.

"You'd make a beautiful mother."

"I'm still up for trying," you say. "If you think we're ready, I mean..."

Simon pulls you in, until your lips have found his, locking in its familiar ways. Between the soft pecks he'd left, he spoke to you softly, holding you close.

"We're not getting any younger."

(╹◡◠)

[drmaddict]

Patchwork

Summary: Henry becomes a father... Just not how he thought it would happen.

Word count: 2.160

Warnings: mentions of domestic violence, lots of fluff

"Six?"

"Six."

"Six children?"

"Well not biologically, but.... yes."

(Y/n) looked uncertainly at Henry. The blue eyes stared at her in disbelief.

"You have six children living in your house?"

She sighed. That was always the point at which every guy ran away.

"I understand if that's too much for you," she began. 

Henry shook his head still in disbelief, but grinned. "Do you ever sleep, or do you just get used to  sleep deprivation?"

She smiled cautiously. Didn't trust the peace yet, though. "To be honest there are two kids one 9 and one 12 and four pubescent teenagers."

He regarded her quietly across the restaurant table. "Are you okay?" he asked, "Did I say something wrong? I know my reaction may have been a little surprised, but I didn't mean to cut you in."

She relaxed a little. "It's just... Most guys run away as soon as they hear that, and that would really be .... a shame."

Henry smiled and shook his head. "I don't run away. I hate cardio."

That made her smile.

"But you'll still have to tell me how you get to adopt six children and teenagers.... And that as a single woman in her mid-twenties."

"It's like cats. Somehow I guess it doesn't stay with just one." She tipped her wine glass. "The first one was Jason. He was the son of my neighbors at the time and would come by my apartment every so often in the afternoon until his mother got home. One night he showed up at my door bleeding. His father caught him with make up and beat him black and blue. It took a while, but then he could move in with me. He's graduating from high school this summer. He has even been accepted to a make up school. He wants to go into film as a makeup artist." She smiled softly. "He's come a long way."

Henry curtsied in shock at the story. "Fatima is 16 and has been disowned by her family for not being a virgin. She has ambitions to study law. I don't think anyone will stop her from going to Oxford. Mike is almost 16 - next week - and grew up without a father and even though his mother tried everything, she has high level schizophrenia. She has been institutionalized and now lives in care. We visit her whenever her condition allows it. Mini - Emilia ran away at some point. We don't really know what happened. She is 14. Kamon is 12 and comes from a refugee family. His parents have been sent back to Thailand. We are trying to get a visa for them. Until then, I'm kind of his foster family. He and Mike are not officially adopted. Both love their family and do everything for them, even if they can't always be there. And Lilly. She is 9. Her family died in a car accident. No family member has been found."

She was silent for a moment and continued to contemplate her wine before looking up and looking at Henry.

"Henry... I understand if this is too much, but.... they've all been through enough in their lives and every single one of them has their reasons for making it hard for new people in our family. So if, against all odds, you say yes to this circus, know that it's not so easy to get out of it either." Her gaze became insistent. "If you leave me, that's one thing, but I won't do that to the kids."

Henry, who hadn't said anything all this time, took one deep breath and reached for her hand lying on the table. He smiled. "If they're willing to meet me, so am I."

Henry stood in front of a gigantic house. His house was already big, but this one surpassed it. Despite its size, however, it didn't seem ostentatious. It looked cozy and inviting. The word 'home' popped into his head.

Shouts and frantic footsteps sounded from inside. 

He pressed his thumb on the doorbell. Immediately, everything went silent.

The door opened with a jerk. A dark-skinned boy stood before him, beaming at him. From the colored eyeliner, he concluded that it must be Jason.

"Hello Mr. Cavill." he said in a noticeably loud voice.

Immediately, frantic footsteps sounded and he saw scattered bodies running through the background.

"Hi. Henry will do." he smiled.

"Come on in. I'm Jason. Ehhm... (Y/n) isn't here yet.... Mike had... They had to go to the hospital."

"Is he okay?"

Jason shrugged. "Normally, he is. Boxer you know... Tea?"

"Gladly."

He stepped into the house. It was swept as if empty, yet the traces of life could be seen in it. Self-painted pictures. Photographs. Various equipment for hobbies. Shoes in different sizes. And that was just the hallway. Henry let himself be led into the kitchen and sat down on one of the chairs. None matched the other.

"Mike had a match this morning. (Y/n) said he's already patched up. They're already on their way here."

Henry smiled. "With something like this, you should take your time."

Jason set the steaming cup down for him and sat with him.

Henry accepted it gratefully. "It's very quiet."

"Be glad." was all he said, sipping his tea. "I don't want to chase you away, but it's like human history here. The periods of absolute peace are relatively negligible." He ran his index finger over the rim of his cup and grinned. "And I'm one of the worst divas here. Just a warning."

The front door opened and a rumble sounded, followed by an amused giggle. "Sorry about that." a boy's slurred voice rang out.

"That's okay big guy. Come on off to bed." he heard (y/n).

"I'm fine!"

"That's because they drugged your ass off so you can't feel your face."

"Where's Ammy?"

"Mike you need to rest now. You can call Amber when you're in bed."

"Who are you?" A blond boy in a gray sweatshirt and swollen face looked at him from the doorway, aghast. "Who's that?" he turned to (Y/n).

"A friend Mike. That's a friend. Jason stop filming him!"

Still grinning, Jason put the phone away and turned to Henry. "Welcome."

"What's the dog's name?", Kamon asked him.

"That's Kal...like Superman." he smiled at the shy boy.

"I like Batman."

Henry rolled his eyes playfully. "Oh yeah, why?"

"Batman watches out for kids nobody else wants. Like (y/n)."

Henry smiled.

"I told you not to rummage through my things!" yelled Emilia down the hall.

Henry and (Y/n) sat in the garden each holding a book.

"I wasn't rummaging. I was getting MY eyeshadow, that you stole from MY room!" shouted back Jason. "It's not my fault you leave your lovey-dovey fanfictions lying around in the open like that!"

"You have no business in my room!"

"That being said - Tom Holland? Really?"

A splintering sound rang out.

"I guess that was the vase, then," (Y/n) sighed.

"I would have thought she was more of a Sebastian Stan type," Henry reflected loudly.

"How long has she been sitting there?" whispered Henry to (Y/n).

"Since this morning. She hasn't looked up from that book in five hours."

Fatima sat at the large parlor table surrounded by books, writing notes and index cards.

"That's impressive. Scary, but impressive."

Kal walked over to the table and nudged her.

"I have to study! Sit!" Kal obeyed immediately and sat next to her chair.

"She'd make a good drill sergeant," Henry grinned.

(Y/n) sipped her coffee. "You've never seen her in exam stress."

"This isn't exam stress?"

"This is relaxed studying."

Henry looked in shock at the girl with noise cancelling headphones. (Y/n) grinned into her cup.

 "They need more glitter!" determined Lilly.

Henry reached for the can of edible glitter and sprinkled more of it on the unicorn cookies.

"Like this?"

The little girl looked thoughtfully at the tin. "Like this."

Henry bowed theatrically and slid the tin into the oven. "All for your majesty." The girl giggled.

(Y/n) just watched with a smile.

Jason and Mike sat on the sofa grinning together at a tablet, each with headphones in their ears.

This wasn't normal. Even Henry knew that by now. He wondered if they were both watching porn. He'd been that age once, too. He knew what that was like.

(Y/n) came into the living room and looked over there shoulders at the two of them. She laughed uncontrollably grunting, but immediately suppressed it and came over to him.

No porn, he concluded.

"What about these two?" asked Henry, pulling her to him on the sofa and onto his lap.

"Just a movie," she grinned.

"What movie?"

She continued to shake her head with a grin and waved it off. Henry was very reluctant to be shut out. So he sat (y/n) down next to him on the sofa and stood behind the two teenagers. When he saw his younger self in a black hoodie grinning and holding up a tarot card, he groaned in annoyance.

The boys snorted indignantly. Henry looked defiantly at the display.

"Oh come on Sweet Cheeks! What's wrong?" asked (Y/n) with a laugh.

He looked at her with an intensity that promised she would pay for this yet. She could hardly wait.

"What's with the hair?" laughed Jason.

"It was in back then!"

Henry stood in the kitchen making coffee while there was the familiar bustle around him. Kamon couldn't find his second shoe, Lilly needed a certain T-shirt, Jason occupied the bathroom, Mike shoveled eggs into his mouth, Fatima just drank the coffee straight out of the pot, and Emilia hid behind a book.

He could hardly believe that over a year should have passed already.

They had grown close to his heart. He didn't want to miss the chaos at all. The last time he left for a job, it seemed almost eerie how quiet it was that night. He had told (y/n) about it over Skype. She'd just grinned and said those feelings liked to sneak up on one.

"Do you think they want me in their life?" he had asked her uncertainly.

She had only smiled. "Wait a minute." She disappeared and came back a moment later with a piece of paper. She held it up to the camera. "Lilly drew this for you today." It showed eight roughly drawn people. Under each one, in capital letters, was the name.... except for (y/n) and him. It just said Mum and Paps. Henry stared wide-eyed at the screen. "Please act surprised when you come back. It's supposed to be a gift.", she put the paper back down. "Are you crying?"

Henry had remained silent. He had only nodded.

He smiled at the memory. The picture hung framed in the hallway. It had become Henry's favorite picture.

"Car one go!", (y/n) called down the stairs.

The three mismatched teens got up from the table and walked to (y/n)s car.

Henry packed the last of the snacks into Lilly and Kamon's lunchboxes before he, too, packed them into his cat and drove them to school. Jason had a little break from make up school and stayed at home.

Henry came back earlier than (y/n). He waited patiently for her in the kitchen. Looked at the mismatched chairs and the photos on the wall. Photos that now included him. (Y/n) came shortly after him and dropped into her usual seat next to him. She reached for the waiting cup of coffee and dropped her head on his shoulder. "How did I do this alone before?"

Henry laughed.

"I mean it. Don't you dare leave! I can't take it anymore!"

Henry just smiled at her. He got up from his chair and knelt down in front of her. He pulled a small box out of his pocket and held it in front of him. "I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life anywhere but with you and the kids. (Y/n) will you marry me?"

She looked at him with shocked eyes. "Are you sure?"

He nodded with a smile. "I want to take Lilly to her dance lessons. I want to be there when Jason gets his first jobs. I want to see Fatima come top of her year at Oxford - in law AND medicine." They both laughed. "I want to cheer Mike on in his competitions. I want to watch Emilia find the romance she secretly wants. I even want my heart to break when Kamon is reunited with his parents. I want to be with you. I want to be with the children. I don't want to run away. I want to be part of this family."

"You already are," she smiled, crying. She pulled him close and kissed him.

"Does that mean yes?" he grinned.

"Yes you idiot." she laughed.

[bandgie]

Before Class

virgin!hueningkai x fem!reader

synopsis: You were Kai's lifelong bully, and you weren't planning on stopping your harassment towards him. As you have got older though, you've had to change your strategies. Now that you're both in college, there been quite a few tips you've learned on how to humiliate Kai.

warnings: MDNI 18+, DUBIOUS, college au, public oral (m receiving), handjob, bully reader, kai is sensitive (he doesn't have a backbone), cum eating, degrading, genital degradation (m receiving), begging, dom!reader, sub!Kai, mentions of Yeonjun, idk

2.6k words

Getting to class early was a must, parking was horrible after a certain time. You sat on the second floor of the library pretending to work on your assignments. Instead, you were observing his large frame hunched over a desk. Kai hadn't seen you when he walked in, and you're grateful for that. Not because you were nervous or embarrassed for what you did to him just a few days ago, but because it left you room to plan. 

Making Huening Kai cry was always a goal of yours. It was so easy when you were in elementary school. All you had to do was pull on his hair, throw some sand in his eyes and the waterworks would begin. As you've gotten older though, it wasn't as simple. You resorted to cursing him out, getting other kids to join in on you, but he was a tough cookie. 

There was just something about his tears that excited you. How red his nose got, the quiver in his bottom lip. Like art honestly, he was beautiful in his rawest form. There was something wrong with you for sure, maybe you needed to see someone for your obsession with Kai. How could you though, when he made it so effortless for you to keep harassing him?

You briefly thought of letting him go today, but your resolve was quickly dissipated when someone approached him. She was cheery, seemingly happy looking at Kai. He stood up quickly and awkwardly smiled at her. You assumed she must be a classmate talking about work, but when she made him laugh, your chest tightened. 

They had to be more than classmates, it wasn’t like it was often someone would approach you outside of class either.  Friends maybe? But with how pink Kai's cheeks had gotten, you think there might be a little crush going on. You hastily pack your papers, shove your notebook and folder into your backpack and standup from your table. 

Jealousy is probably the right word to use, but there was no way you would admit that. You just can’t stand seeing Kai smiling, hate how his lips curl and his teeth shine in the artificial light. He would look  much better sobbing, and you are planning on making that happen sooner rather than later.

Your wedges click on the ground as you approach the two. You can feel your blood rising hearing Kai's soft responses. You don't even need to speak to announce your arrival, you can see Kai's eyes widen in fear. 

Good.

"Oh Kai! I just wanted to pop in and say hi," you smile sweetly at both of them. She spins to see you, returning a friendly smile. She opens her mouth to speak, mostly likely to introduce herself, but you don't think you can fake your persona much longer. "I just needed to steal him from you if you don't mind." You reach for Kai's sleeve and pull him towards you. 

He hesitantly trudges to you, his eyes begging at his friend to save him. "Oh when were you going to be done? We had to work on-" You spare her a glance to interrupt her, "Actually, I think it'll take a while. Isn't that right Hyuka?" 

Kai stiffens at the sound of his nickname, one he hadn't heard in years. His terrified eyes dart to your own before turning back to his friend. "Y-Yeah," his voice is shaky. "I'm sorry, it'll just be a- a moment. I'll catch you after class." The girl eyes you warily, her gaze landing on your grip on Kai's sleeve. Rather than voicing her concern, she nods, "Sure. See ya soon then.”

You turn on your heels and pull Kai along with you. Kai can easily keep up thanks to his long legs, but he's trying to subtly slow his steps so he can delay his bad treatment. He has no idea what you have in store for him, and to be honest, neither do you. All you can think about is how easily he spoke to her, how eager he seemed. Kai has grown into an attractive man, that much you can admit. You just hate knowing he's beginning to catch the eyes of others. 

It's selfish, but you want him to think about only you. Whether it's from fear, anxiety, hatred, you need him to think about you as often as you think about him. After all, it isn't fair that you're the only one obsessed.

You spot the all-gender restroom and quickly take cover there. There’s nobody inside, it’s still early in the morning. You shove Kai into a stall and squeeze/crowd in yourself before locking the door. 

Being this close to him is nothing new, but being in such a confined space is definitely something you hadn't done before. Kai's figure towers over you, he could easily overpower you and leave. Instead, he keeps his hand by his sides and nervously eyes you. He's expecting you to berate him, to remind him of what a loser he is and how no one could ever stand the thought of him.

Instead, you drop to your knees. Kai's eyes widen in disbelief. You grab his belt, quickly loosening it. He moves to block you, gently pulling your hands away. "What are you doing!? Wait! Don't-" You look up at him and sneer, "Don't fucking tell me what to do. Move your hands."

For the first time in ages, Kai disobeys. He shakes his head and locks his arms over his crotch. "You can't," his voice is pleading. "I have to go to class, an-and I haven't... no one’s really..." He trails off. The redness in his face says it all. "Oh I get it," you smirk. "Are you a little virgin?"

At first Kai doesn't answer, but the pinch of your nails on his hands make him yelp. "Y-Yes..." his voice is small, weak. It sends shivers down your spine. You peel his hands away and leave them at his sides. He lets you, too petrified from his confession to really care anymore. 

"I shouldn't be surprised," you start. "You're probably too busy jerking off, watching porn like a loser. I bet you don't even have feeling in your dick anymore." You unloop his belt from the holes and slowly unbutton his pants. Kai clenches and unclenches his fists. You can hear him breathing heavily above you, and as pathetic as it is, it turns you on.

You pull his pants all the way down to his ankles and face his navy blue boxers. Experimentally, you let your hand rub over his crotch. You grip and rub over his limp dick, hearing him inhale sharply. "You're liking this huh? Hah, telling me to stop when you wanted it the whole time." Rather than answering, Kai bucks his hips to you.

You laugh at him, still making sure to apply pressure to his groin. "Fucking slut, bet you'd let anyone touch your cock. That lonely huh?" You grab the waistband of his boxers with your other hand. He stops you before you can pull them down. "Please," he begs. You look up at his glossy eyes, his sweaty forehead, the hair sticking so prettily  to it. 

Growing irritated with his refusals, you give a soft flick to his cock. Kai jolts at the sensation, even whimpers from pain. "Ask me that again, I'll bite it off," you threaten. This time he doesn’t fight when you pull his dick out. The space between your legs throb at the sight, and you lick your lips eagerly. 

His cock is twitching from stimulation, a flushed pink at the tip. There are a few blue veins that pop out from the paleness, a stark contrast to the dark pubes above it. At least he trims, you think. You didn't want pubic hair stuck in your teeth once you were finished with him.

Kai's legs tremble in anticipation, and you run your hands up and down his thighs. You carefully take his tip in first, letting the salty precum cover your tastebuds. The warmth of your mouth has Kai jolt, the feeling completely foreign to him. You steady yourself on his upper thighs as you start taking him deeper. The back of your throat opens for more room, and it doesn't take long to feel him stretch it out. 

Your movements are slow as you drag your lips down Kai's length. His cock feels smooth in your mouth, and you place your tongue on the underside of him. He groans when you deep throat him, and his hips slightly thrust upwards to chase your mouth. A surprised gasp tumbles out of your mouth from the force, making you pull away completely.

You angrily look up at Kai's flushed face, "Did I say you could move?" Kai lets out a soft sob and shakes his head, "No! I'm sorry. Oh fuck I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." You can see the tears in his eyes, the blush on his face. It's tempting to keep making him feel bad, to get those salty tears down his face, but you take pity on him. Your hand reaches for his dick and gives it a few pumps. 

He twitches and moans, still apologizing for his behavior. "I'll let it go this time since you're a virgin or whatever," you start. "But do that again and I'll leave you with your small dick like this, and no one will help you out like I am." Kai nods absentmindedly, his focus completely on your fingers. 

It's hard to admit, but you really like hearing Kai moan. His breathless whimpers, his choked sobs, the way he says your name like he's begging you to stop and keep going. There was no way, after years of bullying Kai, that you would willingly place yourself between his legs. Yet here you are, knees bruising up from the hard tile and your pussy throbbing from neglect. 

A wet sound comes out  when you place his cock back where it was in your mouth. It's lewd, but the noise is easily drained out by Kai's groans of appreciation. You can tell he's focusing on remaining still with the way his hands are bunching up his shirt. A smile finds your lips when a harsh suck makes his cries echo in the bathroom. 

"You're lucky no one's in here," you say when you briefly pull away. One hand strokes him and the other plays with his balls simultaneously. "Imagine if that bitch saw you now? You think she'd still like you after seeing what a whore you are?" Kai shakes his head at your questions. "N-No."

You hum in satisfaction with his admission, placing kisses on his cock. Before you have the chance to take him back in your mouth, you hear the door to the restroom open. Footsteps echo through the previously empty room, and Kai looks like he's seen a ghost. He looks down at you, a small desperate shake in his head. Don't.

You only grin in response, eagerly forcing his cock down your throat. Kai jolts and his mouth flies open in a silent moan. Your movements are much faster now, magnifying the pornographic noises coming from your mouth. You push even further. You unhinge your jaw and take him deep, bruising the back of your throat. 

Kai's pubes tickle your nose when you hit his pelvis, and you gag around his girth. Spit dribbles down your chin, landing on your thighs and the floor. You feel nothing but arousal when you realize the unsuspecting witness has stopped moving, attentively listening to the lewd sounds echoing from your stall.. Kai notices too and shakes his head aggressively. He can’t control the tears collecting at the corner of his eyes anymore, sending waves of pleasure to your core. 

"If you're gonna fuck, can you do it somewhere else? People are tryna piss," the bystander finally calls out. You recognize the voice immediately, and so does Kai. Yeonjun sounds rather irritated, not bothering to wait for a reply as he leaves. Kai slumps in relief when he hears the restroom door swing shut again, only managing to let out a groan when he tries to speak.

Even without the extra audience you still put your best show on for Kai. Your fingernails are gripping his thighs, drool hanging off your bottom lip as you keep throatfucking yourself on Kai's dick. Kai bites his lower lip so harshly he thinks it'll bleed, but that pain is nothing compared to the pleasure you're giving him.

You can feel your arousal seep through your underwear, down the inner parts of your thighs. You think about fucking him, how good his cock would feel stretching you out. He probably wouldn't even know how to fuck you right. You might have to bounce on his cock while he sits on the toilet. As dirty as that thought is, there's more pleasure in watching Kai writhe above you.

His length twitches in your mouth. You use your hand to stroke the parts your mouth can't reach, and you maintain a steady rhythm. Kai's whines get more and more out of control and without thinking, he brushes the hair out of your face. There's a delicate moment when he locks eyes with you, making sure to get a good look at your face as he cums in your mouth. 

The hot spurts make you gag, but you force your mouth to stay on his cock so as to not waste a single drop. Kai looks like bliss with his eyes slanted and mouth open in a long moan. He’s still looking at you, almost as if he actually wants to see you.  The thought makes your stomach flip. 

You purposely take a long time pulling your mouth off his cock, his cum still settling in your mouth. Your knees scream in protest as you stand to face Kai. You wrap your hand at the back on his neck and drag him down to your height. Your other hand finds his mouth and pulls it open as you purse your lips. 

"Say ahh..."

Kai's cum leaks from your mouth in thick globs, landing on his tongue. He grimaces at the taste but keeps still. His lips are so close to your own, and for a second you debate kissing him. But then you’d miss how he swallows his own cum, how he would cough as the thick substance slides down his throat. 

You spit the remaining cum into his mouth before licking your own lips. Kai covers his mouth and squeezes his eyes as he tries to swallow it all without gagging, tears sliding down his face. Your thumb wipes one away and you bring it to your mouth, adding to the salty taste. 

"It tasted good huh, Hyuka?" 

He opens his eyes and shakes his head pitifully, making you laugh. You do the honors of pulling Kai's pants and boxers back up and adjusting his belt. You tap his clothed cock a few times just to see him flinch from the sensitivity. 

Your cunt is still sopping wet, crying to be touched. You might have to ignore it for now, but you know this won't be the last time you play with Kai. Kai silently watches as you pull your makeup out of your bag, fascinated by how quickly you make yourself look normal again despite being wrecked on his cock mere moments ago. 

You snap your mirror closed and open the stall door, sauntering away without a second look. "Better get to class then Hyuka. You don’t wanna be late.”

a/n: I love huening kai and I feel like there's not enough writings about him!! I'm planning on making this a little series, so stay tuned for that!

proofreader/editor: @then-make-me (thank you!!)

update!: second part here

update 2: third part here

[thebibliosphere]

I saw your post about ingram, and out of curiosity, is there some advantage to going through the whole self-publishing thing with retailers when you're just starting out? like I mean the way that fandom zines work is that they don't even bother going through ingram or amazon or whatever. they just set up a social media site (usually twitter) to gain followers, open preorders (usually 1-2 months in length) to generate the costs of printing upfront, and then sell anywhere from a few dozen to several hundred copies of their books (usually artbooks, but anthologies exist too). I've seen some zines generate over a thousand orders. they're kind of like pop-up shops, except for books. maybe the sales numbers aren't so impressive to a real author, but the profit generated is typically waaaay more than the $75+ apparently needed for Ingram Spark, so I still feel like new authors could benefit from this method too, especially if they just need some start-up cash to eventually move to ingram if they want to for subsequent runs of their book. I think authors would also have to set aside some of the pre-order money to buy an ISBN number to have printed on their book, and I'm not really sure what other differences there are, but I just wanted to ask about it in case there's some huge disadvantage I'm missing!

So, popup zines work well for some people, and I know some authors who kickstart their work successfully. But for a lot, it's just not feasible as a long-term stratedy. Or even as a means to get off the ground.

Fanzines succeed primarily because an existing fanbase is willing and ready to throw money at something they love. They’ve got a favorite writer or artist they want to support. Supporting all the others is just a happy by-product. They also take a HUGE amount of short-term but intense planning that just doesn’t always jive with how some of us work.

I, for one, would never offer to organize a fanzine. I’ll take part in them as a creator, but I’d rather throw myself off a cliff than subject myself to wrangling that many people and dealing with the legal logistics.

When it comes to authors doing anthologies, it'svery much the same. The success of the funding often hinges on having other big-name authors involved whose existing fans will prop up the project. Or having a huge marketing budget.

Most self-pub authors have zero marketing budget. I’m one of them, and I’m under no illusions that my work would not be as popular and self-sustaining as it is if I didn’t have a large Tumblr blog.

When I thank Tumblr in my forewards, I am utterly sincere. Tumblr brought fandom levels of enthusiasm to an unknown work and broke the Amazon algorithm so hard, that Amazon thought I was bot sniping my way to multiple #1 spots and froze my sales rankings.

That’s not the norm. And while I could probably kickstart my own work as an indie creator, that’s because I’ve put literal decades into building up a readership. I’ve been doing this since I was 16 and realized people thought I was funny. I didn’t know what to do with it or if I’d ever actually write anything, but it meant the groundwork was already there (thank you, past-me). I basically fell upward into my success by virtue of never being able to shut the fuck up and wanting to make people laugh. Clown instincts too strong.

New or first-time authors trying to sell their work without that will find it infinitely harder.

All of that aside, even if an unknown author somehow gets lucky and manages to fund their work, there’s still the question of shipping and distribution logistics. Are you shipping everything yourself? Better hope you’re able-bodied and have the time for it. (for reference, it took me months to ship out 300 patreon hardbacks because of my disabilites. It damaged my back and hands. I couldn’t type for several weeks after I was done.)

Are you going to sell primarily at conventions? Better hope you’re able-bodied, have the time and don’t have cripling anxiety about being in large groups...

Also, will selling a dozen to a few thousand copies in one burst be sustainable in the long run as a career? Not for me. Doing things via Ingram and Amazon means I earn a steady trickle of sales for the rest of my life provided the platforms remain and so long as I keep working and can generate interest in the series, not just when I have funds to pay for physical copies to sell. The one-time (in theory) cost of $75 to distribute through Ingram gets paid off pretty quick that way. And it doesn't require the same logistics as doing the popup/crowdfund.

Ultimately, it comes down to what you are capable of but also the type of work you’re doing. If you’ve got an extended network of fellow creatives who will back you or you’ve got a large following elsewhere, doing it like a popup might work for you.

If you’re an exhausted burnout who can’t fathom the short but intense amount of organization that sort of thing requires, not to mention doing it over and over and over... Ehhhhh. No thank you.