#with a lit cigarette on the floor beside me

[sturnsdarling]

You're much better company, tough girl

fratboy!matt has met his match with smartand'mean'!reader, and he can't get enough of her

vibe check: SMUT, mattthemunch, unprotected cuddle time (I'd tell you to wrap it but i'm not your mother) bigdick!matt, choking, spitting, praise, reader strumming the bean, pet names (angel, tough girl), all that good stuff.

4k words

A/N: This concept was born from and is my take on the wonderful, amazing and ridiculously talented @sturnioz fratboy!matt au, and its also my first fic so, be kind. PSA REGARDING PART 2

love and cigs, merc

The autumn air was cold, and the fishnets on your legs weren’t doing you any favours. you’d snuck out the party to escape the weirdo guy that was basically stalking you since you had arrived. You'd hoped to find your friend, but she was somewhere tangled up with one of the resident frat boys, her shy demeanour acting like catnip to the renowned player Chris Sturniolo. You found yourself outside the front of the house, genuinely considering leaving, but knowing your friend would need company once Chris inevitably got bored of her. From around the corner, you heard  a lighter flick and the deep inhale that normally follows, turning and walking down to the side of the house, you saw a shadowy figure being periodically illuminated by the butt of his cigarette. 

"What're you doin’ out here?" you questioned, walking over to Matt who was leant against the side of the house, trying to escape the "new age, shit rap music" Chris put on.

Matt held up the cig in his fingers and gave you a short smile, before placing the cigarette between his lips and taking a long drag, his jawline becoming even more prominent as his cheeks hollowed slightly. 

"Thought you didn't smoke?" you said, arms folded over your chest as the cold air bit at your nearly bare legs. 

"I don't smoke weed, but, I do love my cigs" He held the open box out to you and you pulled one out, placing it between your lips gently. He brandished his silver lighter in front of your face and lit the cigarette, absentmindedly staring at the way the flame illuminated your features. 

"Chris is the stoner, kid fuckin' loves it" He said as he flicked the lighter closed and placed it back in his pocket. 

"Cigarettes still contain drugs, y'know that right?" You smirked, taking a drag and letting the smoke come out with every word. 

"Yes, smart-ass I know that" He quipped back, "everyone needs a vice, you know?" 

You giggled slightly as his philosophy, "a vice? you need something to help you escape the plaguing reality of being a frat bro?”, smiling as you placed the cig between your teeth and took another drag.

“Ugh, don't call me that" he responded, spitting the foul taste out of his mouth onto the floor, "besides..." He paused to take a drag, "If I was a frat bro, which I'm not, I could have a plaguing sense of reality, frat boys have feelings too you know, kid" he smiled, his perfect teeth almost reflecting the light from the street lamps. 

“oh, do tell, what plagues the infamous Matthew Sturniolo" you grinned at him, rolling your eyes in faux sympathy.

"Infamous? ouch.” He held his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. 

Pausing for a moment, he looked at you and then to the floor, shuffling where he leant slightly and shrugging his shoulders, "I dunno, l've always got somthin' going on up there" He gestured to his temple with the cig in his fingers.

“But, 'nough about me, what're you doin' out here?" he asked, desperately trying to change the topic from himself, pointing his cigarette at you in an accusatory

"Came lookin’ for you" you said, blowing the smoke from your pursed lips. 

His eyebrows raised at your confession, "Me?" He questioned. 

"mhm" You nodded, taking another drag. 

“Why?” his brows furrowed as smoke bellowed out his open mouth. 

“I didn’t actually, jus' thought you’d like the flattery” You chuckled, ashing your cigarette.

“wow, okay, how tough are you?” He smirked, standing up from his leant position and throwing his cigarette to the floor, just before stamping it out. 

“Me? tough? never.” You said sarcastically, placing your cigarette back in your mouth. 

Matt came forward slightly and pulled the tiny stick from your lips, placing it between his own and taking a drag whilst maintaining a firm stare. You watched him intently, your big eyes burning holes into his as he placed the cigarette back into your mouth. 

“You didn’t answer my question, kid” he said, his tone faltering as he blew the smoke from his mouth.

a long huff left your mouth as you rolled your eyes, “I needed to escape this guy, he was fuckin’ relentless and I was not into it”. 

Matt paused for a moment, still baring down into you, “yeah?” half of his teeth coming onto display as a smirk encapsulated his face, “what are you into?” he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly so he was even closer to you, his breath nearly touching the cold apples of your cheeks. 

As he was speaking you took a long drag, and in response to his clear attempt to rile you up, you blew the smoke into his face with pursed lips and a smile. Matt blinked slowly with raised brows at your bravery, letting the wind carry the smoke from his face. 

“What do you think i’m into, Matthew?” you asked, matching his earlier cadence. 

“I think, you act all tough, but really, you want someone to tell you to sit down, shut up, and to take it like the pretty, pretty girl you are” he said, so non-challant you’d think he was explaining that the sky is blue. 

Your breath hitched in your chest, and your eyes fluttered slightly, not quite fully closing. 

A cheshire cat smile formed on Matts face, he knew exactly what type of girl you were from the moment he laid eyes on you on the first day of the semester. 

“You think I’m pretty?” you asked in a condescending tone, pulling your confidence back, trying to ignore the growing sensation in your stomach. 

Matt simply nodded in response, tucking a messy strand of hair behind your ear and letting his fingers trail down past your neck and over your bare arms. At some point during your back and forth, Matt had edged his face impossibly close to yours, he hooked a finger under your chin and pulled your head up to face him, 

“I think you’re beautiful, tough girl” he whispered, almost into your mouth as it parted with his words. 

With that, you threw your cigarette to the floor and thrust your lips into his, the force pushing him backwards to into the wall he was leant on only moments ago. His hands found your waist, pulling you in tight against him as yours pulled and tugged at the loose brown curls on the back of his head. The kiss was feverish, animalistic and messy, you were positioned snug between his legs as one of his hands found its way to the covered flesh of your ass, he squeezed it with a low growl and slapped it quickly after, rubbing the sting away with a soft hand. The sensation caused you to whimper into his mouth, jolting against him as his hand smacked your ass. He chuckled into the kiss, his hands roaming all the way up your back and into your hair. He pulled you off him with a firm hand wrapped around the back of your neck.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you make noises like that” he dipped his head down, capturing your neck in his teeth and soothing the sting with a flat, warm tongue. 

“Matt” you whispered, your head hanging on your shoulders, resting in Matts large palm. “What’s up, angel?” he murmured from the curve where your neck and shoulders meet.

“I’m not—shit— I’m not gonna fuck you round the side of your house” You manage to get out, slightly distracted by the sensation of Matt nipping at sucking at your neck. 

“Let’s go inside then” You even mentioning fucking him was enough permission to take your hand and drag you inside. 

The music boomed against your skull as he pulled you through the party with your hand in his, both of you ignoring everyone that tried to spark up some kind of drunken conversation. He led you up the large staircase in the centre of the main room, his focus on your destination only faltering to glance at Chris who, had your best friend tucked under his arm on the sofa, the pair exchanged a knowing look and Chris shot Matt a wink, quickly returning his attentions to the shy girl perched next to him. As you and Matt reached the top of the staircase, he turned, pulling you into him for the second time that night for a desperate kiss. This time, he leant down, taking the backs of your thighs in his hands with a tap that you knew meant ‘jump’. You obliged and within moments, you were being thrust into his dimly lit bedroom. He kicked the door closed with his foot, never breaking the kiss, and walked the two of you over to his bed, placing you down somewhat gently onto the brown satin sheets. 

“You’re so pretty, y’know that?” he said breathlessly, breaking the kiss to tear off his red sweatshirt. 

“I think you mentioned it once or twice” You replied, desperately clawing at the back of his neck to pull him back into you, your legs loose around his waist. 

“Such a smart-ass” he groaned, his hand suddenly gripping your throat as he pushed you back down onto his sheets, squeezing the sides of your neck. 

You moaned at the sensation, brows furrowing as your hips involuntarily bucked upwards. Matt chucked at your responsiveness, his hand trailing down your chest to toy with the hem of your top. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, softly. 

“mhm” you nodded, desperately. 

“Words, angel, I need words” he halted his movements, his voice stern. 

“Yes, Matt, take it off, please”  The pleading in your tone evident, despite your attempt to be moody. 

“Begging already? I knew I’d like you” with that he pulled your top over your head and left you exposed in your lacy black bra, your hard nipples perking through the sheer fabric. 

“Fuck” Matt uttered under his breath, his large hands roaming around your nearly bare torso. 

He couldn’t help himself, he leant down, pulling the thin fabric from your tit and wrapped his mouth around your hardened nipple, grinding down onto your core as he did, chasing the friction. Your head rolled back at the feeling, and as if on instinct, your hips rolled against his. Matt trailed his kisses down your stomach, each one igniting a hot fire all over your skin. He hooked his fingers round the hem of your skirt, still trailing hot, wet kisses down your heaving torso. He looked up at you, being met with your pleading eyes staring down at him.

“Can I?” he tugged slightly at your skirt. 

“yes, please” you nodded frantically, lifting your hips up to aid him in removing the fabric that separated his mouth from your aching cunt. 

“Such a fast learner, such a good girl” he smiled as he pulled your skirt down over your knees, leaving you in nothing but your bra, fishnets and thin black panties. 

“Jesus christ” he said as he perched on his knees by the edge of the bed, “these are staying on” he said, caressing your legs with firm hands. 

He edged his hands further down towards your core, spreading your thighs apart for him as he lowered himself down, hooking your legs over his shoulders. As his hands reached where you ached for him the most, he pressed firm fingers across your pussy, rubbing upwards and finishing his movement with a short circle of both of his thumbs over your throbbing clit. With one quick motion, he ripped a hole in your fishnets, exposing your dripping cunt to him as your wetness seeped through the thin fabric of your thong. His eyes might as well have sparkled at the sight, 

“Look at that, tough girl, you’re all wet over me taking charge” he said, taking a finger and swiping it up the wetness that had collected  at the entrance to your pussy. 

You whimpered, bucking your hips once again at the stimulation, whining slightly in attempts to coax him into touching you properly. 

“I need to taste you, angel, can I?” he asked, like a boy begging to stay up to see Santa on christmas morning. 

“Yes, Matt, please, fuckin' hurry up already” you whine, desperate and aching for any sense of relief from this agonising feeling. 

He didn’t need any more permission, with a low hum (more like a fucking growl), he pulled your soaked panties to the side with vigour and latched his mouth around your clit. Your back arched off the bed immediately, his tongue sending sweet euphoria up your spine as it toyed with your sensitive bud. The moan that escaped you was pornographic, and it only egged him on further. He slipped his tongue into your entrance, lapping at the juices that seeped from your hole as his thumb found your clit, moving in slow circles over the sensitive bud. He moaned into your pussy, as if he was getting off on eating you out, the vibrations from his groaning only adding to the knot growing in your stomach. Your hands found his hair, tugging at the messy brown curls that covered his beautiful face as he devoured you. 

“Fuck, Matt, that feels so fucking good” you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes as he moved once more to suck on your clit. 

His fingers swirled and prodded at your slick entrance, your walls nearly sucking him in as they clenched around nothing. He took your incessant moans as invitation to insert two long fingers all the way inside of you, curling up into that perfect gummy spot as he did. Your thighs clenched around his head, tensing and shaking as he brought you to the edge. He raised himself up slightly, pushing your legs apart with his forearms and pinning you down under his weight, his fingers relentlessly curling into you as he sucked and lapped at your clit, desperate to make you come undone all over his mouth. You tugged at his curls once more, earning a deep groan from him that vibrated around your clit and, that feeling, coupled with the warm pressure of his body weight on your thighs and his intense, animalistic eye contact, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you, your whole body shaking as you moaned his name over and over again, bucking your hips up into his face as he continued his pace, mercilessly lapping at your sopping pussy. You started to tether on the edge of overstimulation just as he pulled his mouth from you, his fingers still pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. You stared down at him with fluttery eyes, your fingers caressing his scalp as he helped you ride out your orgasm with a tender smile and tiny bites down the inside of your thigh. 

He pulled his fingers from you and got to his feet, the bed shifted under his weight as he brought himself up to hover over you. 

He traced the outline of your plump lips with the tip of his finger, asking for invitation. You obliged and opened your mouth, exposing a flat tongue to him. 

“Taste how sweet you are, angel. fuckin’ delicious” He said, placing his fingers on your tongue before edging them down your throat, watching intently as you gagged around them. 

He chuckled slightly at your submissiveness, pulling his fingers from your throat and trailing them down your chin. He placed a firm palm on the front of your neck and pulled you into a kiss, his face still wet from your cum. You whimpered into the kiss, frantic hands moving down in between you in attempts to unbutton his jeans. He smiled into the kiss and squeezed the sides of your throat with his fingers, bucking his hips into your hands as they freed him of the confines of the thick denim. He assisted you in pushing his jeans down his legs, not once breaking the kiss as he expertly shuffled them off and kicked them across the room. He crawled back on top of you and pushed you further up the bed, with one hand on the back of your thigh and the other round your neck, he hooked your leg over his waist and began to grind down into your sensitive core, the fabric of his black boxers giving just the right amount of friction between you. 

“Matt, I need you inside of me, now.” you whine, the demand sending shivers up Matts spine as he locked eyes with you. 

“What’s the magic word, pretty girl” He smirked, you rolled your eyes in response and brought your other leg to hook around his waist, your feet locking him in. 

“Please, matt” you reluctantly (you loved it) begged. 

“So good for me, angel” he smiled as your hands snaked their way into his boxers, palming his hard cock. 

Your eyes widened slightly at the size and he noticed, a sense of pride washing over him, “Bigger than you thought it would be?” he smirked.

 A wave of nervousness overcame you but you pushed it down, biting your lip and tightening your grip on his throbbing member, “I always knew you’d be huge, the quiet ones always are” you said, pumping him slowly. 

He couldn’t help but rut into your hand, his head falling into the curve of your neck as he palmed your tit, pinching at your hard nipple whilst his other hand left bruises on your thigh. Small whispers left his mouth and fell onto your skin, his warm breath only turning you on even more. You pushed his boxers down completely and he kicked them off, looking down at where you were attempting to line him up with your weeping entrance. 

“So needy, huh? tough girl? lemme help you angel” He pressed his tip against your folds and aided you in guiding himself into your slick walls. 

The feeling of him stretching you out made your back arch off the bed, your hands flying to the sheets for some sort of leverage. He chuckled slightly, slowly thrusting his leaking tip in and out of you, letting you adjust to his size inch by inch as he trailed soft kisses down your jaw and neck, biting every so often only to sooth the sting with his warm tongue. 

The feeling was euphoric, he was somehow keeping you between feeling completely satisfied and overstimulated all at once. 

“fuck, angel” he drew out, “y'so fuckin’ tight and m'not even half way in— Jesus christ- y'gonna be the death of me” he grunted, capturing your open mouth in a wet and tender kiss, his tongue pressed against yours as he thrusted into you completely, bottoming out. 

You both moan at the feeling, your legs tensed around his waist and your arms found home draped over his shoulders, hands tangled in his hair. 

He pulled out of you almost entirely, still kissing you mercilessly before thrusting into you again, this time with a lot more force. You moaned into his mouth, tugging at his hair to counter the sting of your pussy, blissfully stretched out around him and aching for him to move faster. 

Matt broke the kiss, taking your jaw in his hand and squeezing your mouth open, he gathered a ball of spit in his mouth and lowered it towards yours. You caught it on your tongue and swallowed it with a smile as he watched in awe.

“You’re perfect” he uttered, leaning down to kiss your squished lips before releasing your jaw and earning another smile from you. 

With that, he set a relentless pace, fucking you into the bed with each hard thrust. You moaned out his name, pulling him in impossibly close to you with both your grip round his waist and your hands in his hair. His head fell next to yours, hot breath panting in your ear as he moaned and whimpered at the feeling of your slick walls clenching around him. 

“Fuck matt, you're so big, stretching me out s’much, oh my fucking god” you trail off, your words bouncing with every merciless thrust. 

“Take it angel, fuckin’ take it, I know you can” he panted into your ear, sucking on the lobe. 

He slowed his pace but fucked you harder, each thrust inciting a pornographic moan from your lips. 

“you sound s'good when you moan, so fuckin’ sexy” he groaned, pounding into you harder just to earn those beautiful whimpers from you. 

His tip formed a bulge in your lower stomach, poking out of you over and over again as he hit your g-spot, bringing you closer to the edge for the second time that night. You brought a hand up to his mouth, silently asking for permission to collect some spit from the pad of his tongue, he obliged, biting your fingers slightly before you pulled them from his mouth and placed them down between the two of you, rubbing fast circles over your clit. The stimulation made your walls clench around him, milking his painfully hard cock. 

“Fuck, oh my, fuck, keep doing that, pretty girl, keep touching yourself for me” his command comes out in a near whimper. 

“Matt, m'gonna— “ before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your thighs shaking around his waist as white hot tingles covered your entire body, you clenched your eyes shut and all you could see was stars as you came all over his dick. 

“You’re clenching me so hard right now angel, y'gonna make me cum, look at me pretty girl, please, let me see those pretty eyes” Matt rambled as his high was rapidly approaching, his pace quickening as his movements became sloppy, 

“cum inside me, please matt, I need it” you cried out, still reeling in the after shock of your crippling orgasm. 

With your pleading, he realised strings of warm cum inside you, coating your walls as he fucked his seed into you, riding out his orgasm, shaking and trying desperately not to buckle completely on top of you. 

He thrusted in and out a few more times before reluctantly pulling out, the cold air hitting his softening cock as he fell down next to you, immediately bringing you into his side and pulling at your limbs so you were lazily draped over him. 

You laid there, panting in each others arms, both trying to catch your breath as the sound of the party suddenly became more prominent from the other side of his bedroom door. “You” he said, still catching his breath, “are incredible.” He turned his head to look down at you.

“You’re not too bad yourself, Matthew” you smiled, bringing your finger to trace along his pink bottom lip. 

He watched as you admired the plump skin for a moment and with a smile, he bit the tip of your finger. You giggled and pulled your hand from his mouth, resting it on his now steady chest. 

“Can I see you again?” he asked, captivated by the way your face lights up when you laugh. 

“If you actually start coming to classes, you’ll see me all the time” you taunted him.

“Oh, I’m gonna have the best fuckin’ attendance in this whole college” he responded, pulling you fully on top of him. 

You squealed at the sudden movement and shifted to straddle his lap. You sat up, looking down at him as he tugged and needed at the flesh around your hips. 

“They’re all probably wondering where you are” you said, referring to the hoard of people in his home. 

“Fuck ‘em, they’re all losers anyway” he leant up closer to you, a sneaky hand came and wrapped itself around your neck, pulling you desperately close to his face.

“You’re much better company, tough girl” he whispered through a smile before capturing your mouth in a tender yet rough kiss.

[sicutpuella]

I’ll Wait | Simon “Ghost” Riley 4.8k words

“Is there nothing I can do to stop you?” Her eyes were downcast; the room was dark, only moonlight streaming through the windows. It was silent, like the whole world paused, except for the two of them.

He paused, a lit cigarette between his crooked fingers. Smoke curled from his lips, a haze in the moonlight. An exhale, "No." The single word hung in the air heavier than the smoke. She looked again at the already-organized tactical gear on her floor. It was a mocking reminder of what will be taken away from her.

“It’s a suicide mission, can’t they have someone else in exchange for you?” There was anger, pain, and betrayal all at once.

"There is no one else to send," he replied, his voice cold and firm. He took a drag on the cigarette, the tip burning a deep red before fading into the darkness. "Besides, there's no one better suited for this than me."

“But you could die!”

The words hung in the air, a silent echo of the unspoken fears between them. The room felt colder, the moonlight harsher. She fought back tears, her heart heavy with the weight of impending loss.

His eyes flickered, the tiniest crack in his stoic facade. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just watching her, before finally responding in a low voice. "I know."

She blinked. And one. And another. And a tear.

He pushed himself off the wall and moved closer to her. Taking another draw from the cigarette, he took a moment to exhale before speaking. "Don't... cry." The words were said softly, almost a plea.

She took the deepest inhale, trying to preserve his scent in her memory as long as possible.

“Why you?”

He paused for a beat, his gaze lingering on her face before looking away. He dropped the cigarette into an ashtray before answering. "I'm expendable."

"No, you’re not… no, you’re not…" she shook her head repeatedly, tears falling with each movement.

He closed the distance between them, taking her face in his hands. "Stop crying." His thumbs wiped away her tears, his touch surprisingly delicate for a man who was so rough and cold.

He exhaled a shaky breath, his eyes never leaving her face. "This... this mission. It's the only way." He paused, as if debating whether to say more. "And... they're right. I am expendable."

"You don’t get to say that, Simon! You don’t!" She bit her lip, stopping a scream.

His grip on her face tightened almost imperceptibly, his eyes dark as he looked at her. "Then what else am I supposed to say?!" His voice was edged with irritation, and a hint of something that almost sounded like pain.

She didn’t know either. This was out of their control; she was still a civilian with no knowledge about this.

She just stared at him, feeling the weight of the impending loss pressing down on her chest, the agony of knowing he was slipping away.

She took another breath, fanning herself. She could feel her throat constrict, her heart breaking with every single beat.

He exhaled deeply, the sound a mixture of irritation and frustration. Loosening his grip on her face, his fingers gently cupped her chin. "Don't look at me like that."

He held her gaze for a moment before sighing deeply, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Stop thinking the worst. I’m coming back, you hear me?” His voice was firm, almost commanding.

But deep down, even he knew it was a lie. Simon had read the report a hundred times.

A subtle tension gripped his jaw; a flicker of doubt danced in his eyes. He knew the truth. The report was a death sentence. Yet he spoke with confidence, "I've done this a thousand times before. I'll be fine."

His words were meant to reassure her, but hesitation lingered in his voice. Changing the subject abruptly, he shifted his gaze to the floor. "I... I have something for you. It's in the bedroom."

"Huh?"

Releasing her face, he gestured toward the bedroom door. "Wait here."

He turned and disappeared into the dimly lit bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. She remained limp on the couch, her limbs refusing to move.

Rummaging through a drawer, he searched for something. Moonlight filtered through the window as he returned moments later, holding a small velvet box.

"Sit up," he instructed gently as he settled beside her on the couch, the box cradled in his hands. He waited for her to comply.

With effort, she nodded and sat upright.

He nodded in approval, extending the box toward her. "Open it."

Watching her closely, his eyes flickered between her face and the box.

Carefully, she opened the box, her voice rough as she spoke, "A necklace..."

He grunted in confirmation. "It's a locket," he gruffly replied, observing as she lifted the delicate silver locket from its velvet nest. "Open it," he urged softly.

He waited, watching her every move, as she opened the locket. Inside was a tiny photo—a picture of both of them during one of their beach days. He spoke quietly, "For you to... have something to remind you of me."

And all the emotions flooded her body again; every memory, every pain, every joy—the looming feeling of his permanent departure. She fell to her knees.

He moved quickly, his body tensing as she collapsed. He knelt down next to her, his hands gently guiding her onto his lap. "Hey, hey... don't cry," he said softly. His fingers tangled in her hair, and he tucked her head under his chin.

He held her there for a moment, letting her cry into his chest, his body shielding her from everything else in the world. His voice was low, "I hate seeing you cry..."

Despite his tough exterior, there was a hint of vulnerability in his voice. He continued to hold her, his hand gently rubbing circles on her back, a comforting gesture to soothe her tears.

She was screaming, wailing…

He winced at the sound of her screams and wails, his arms tightening around her. He hated seeing her like this, so helpless and vulnerable. He felt a pang of guilt, knowing he was the cause of her pain. "Shhh…" He tried to soothe her, his voice rough with concern. "Calm down…"

He rocked her gently, his body trying to provide her any semblance of comfort. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry." He repeated the words over and over again, like a mantra, hoping that they would be enough to ease her pain.

“Please come back to me…”

He inhaled sharply at her words, the weight of her plea hitting him like a punch to the gut. He held her closer, his fingers digging into her skin as he spoke. "I will." His voice was firm, resolute. "I promised you, didn't I? I'll come back."

But there was that doubt in his voice. He knew it. It was a contract for death. But he couldn’t show his weakness. He can’t.

His arms tightened around her again, holding her so closely that it seemed as if he was trying to physically keep her from falling apart. His eyes darted around the room, avoiding her gaze, as he continued to speak. "I've been in worse situations. This is nothing. Trust me."

It was an attempt at reassuring her, but the waver in his voice betrayed him. He was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince her. He knew the risks, the odds, and the high possibility that he may not return alive.

He had spent the last month ensuring she would be well taken care of if he dies—bank statements, account and estate transfers.

He continued, his voice growing more ragged with each word, "I've been through hell and back, and I always come out alive. This is no different." He forced a laugh, trying to sound nonchalant, but it came out as a bitter, mirthless sound.

He gently pulled her face up, forcing her to look at him. His eyes met hers, his gaze intense and raw. "You have to trust me. I'll come back." He repeated the words with conviction, as if saying it enough times would turn it into truth.

But he knew he wouldn’t. That’s why he put her on his will. But she’ll only find out about it if he dies.

He could see the doubt in her eyes, but he chose to ignore it. He pushed her head back down onto his chest, his hand resuming the gentle stroking motion on her back. "I won't die," he said firmly, even though he knew it was a lie. "Not after everything we've been through. Not after all the fights, the laughter, the joy. I'm coming back, and we're going to have a life together. Just you wait."

“We just got married last year…” she weeps.

He clenched his jaw, his grip on her tightening almost imperceptibly. "I know," he said, his voice hoarse. He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling heavily as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I... I didn't plan on this mission, you know that."

"It just... fell into my lap and I couldn't say no…" He tried to justify himself, his voice trailing off, the weight of the truth sinking in. He had made a deal with the devil, and now he was paying the price, with his life.

"But I'll come back," he repeated the words like a mantra, forcing confidence into his voice that he didn't feel. His chest ached at the thought of leaving her behind, of not being able to fulfill all the promises he had made to her.

"Please... you have to... we have to have a family... please Simon! Please!" She was in agony, tortured by the pain tearing through her.

His body tensed at her words, fingers digging into her skin. He struggled to maintain control, the weight of her pleas tugging at his heartstrings. "Don't you think I want that?" he snapped, frustration and guilt boiling over. "Don't you think I want to come back, build a life with you, have a family, grow old together?"

He released a shaky breath, his voice thick with emotion. "But... this isn't about what I want. It's about what I have to do." The bitterness of duty hung heavy in his words, stark against his attempts to reassure her with love.

“Duty above all.”

He chuckled bitterly. "Always…" he murmured, eyes softening as he saw the raw pain etched on her face. Cupping her cheek, his fingertips traced over her tear-stained skin. "I never wanted to hurt you. You know that, right?"

He memorized her face, every contour, every line—a desperate attempt to sear her into his memory. He wanted her to be the last thing he saw when he closed his eyes forever.

Studying her face, he committed every detail to memory. The curl of her eyelashes, the curve of her nose, the softness of her lips under his touch. His fingers moved delicately, tracing the path of her tears, the slope of her neck. He lingered on her pulse, feeling its steady rhythm.

He knew he was trying to capture her essence, to preserve every sensation so he'd never forget. He wished he could freeze time, keep this closeness for eternity.

She wept...

She memorized his face too, hands gently cradling his cheeks. They sat on the mahogany floor, sharing a moment of tender intimacy.

His eyes closed as her hands explored his face, feeling her warmth, her tenderness. He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a mix of pain and something deeper, unspoken. He struggled to contain his own fear and grief.

"I’ll never love again."

He grunted, pain seeping from his lips. Pulling her close, he wrapped his arms around her protectively. "Don't say that," he gruffly replied, his voice thick with emotion. "Don't."

“I’ll never love again if it’s not you.”

Pressing his lips to her hair, he breathed her in deeply. "You have to," he whispered, voice raw. "You have to move on. Find someone else, live your life. Don't waste it pining after me."

“No… you don’t understand!” She pounded on his chest.

He grunted as she struck him, holding her tightly. "Stop it," he commanded firmly, trying to restrain her, though she resisted.

Looking down at her, frustration and pain etched on his face, he pleaded, "Damn it, you have to listen to me. You can't give up on living because of me. I won't let you!"

"I love you... losing you would be killing me too!"

He clenched his jaw, her words slicing through him like a blade. "I know," he said, his voice hoarse. "I know, but you have to survive. You have to keep going. You can't just die with me."

"I’ll never love another. I can’t. I can’t."

He growled in frustration, his body tensing as he held her. "You have to. You have to try."

He saw the determination in her eyes—the unyielding refusal to even consider loving anyone else. He wanted to shake her, to make her understand, but he knew it would be futile. She was too strong-willed; too loyal; too damn stubborn.

She shook her head. "Then I’ll be your widow forever."

A strangled sound escaped him, somewhere between a laugh and a cry. "Goddammit, you're driving me insane," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "You can't do that. You can't just spend the rest of your life mourning me. That's not fair to you."

"And even if I did try—I’d feel like I was cheating on you!"

"You can't think like that," he said, his voice hoarse. "You can't think that finding someone else is cheating on me. That's not how it works."

"I know you’d do the same. That if I die, you won’t love anyone else—you told me that! Why can’t I do the same?" Her voice was filled with frustration and pain.

He gritted his teeth, the truth of her words hitting him hard. He had told her that, and he had meant it. He wouldn't be able to love anyone else if she was gone. But the idea of her staying alone, mourning him for the rest of her life... it was unbearable.

"It's different for me," he said, his voice tight with emotion.

"How?"

He let out a heavy breath, struggling to find the words. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice laced with frustration. "It just is. I don't... I don't want you to be alone. I want you to be happy, to live your life, to find someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved."

Slap!

"You don’t tell me that—you don’t tell me to give up on you. You don’t tell me to forget you."

His head snapped to the side with the force of her slap. The sound echoed through the room, followed by a silence that was deafening.

He turned back to face her, his jaw clenched, a red mark starting to show on his cheek. "You're being ridiculous," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm not telling you to forget me. I'm telling you to carry on. To live your life."

"My life started the day I met you."

He closed his eyes, her words feeling like a punch to the gut. He knew that she was speaking the truth; their lives were inexorably intertwined—they had become each other's reason for existing.

He opened his eyes again, looking at her, his gaze intense and raw. "Don't make this harder than it already is," he said, his voice gruff. "Please."

"You're my husband... I can't just..."

He reached out, cupping her face gently in his hands. He looked at her, his eyes full of pain and turmoil. "You have to," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You have to be strong, love."

"Please come back. I'll pray to the Lord every day..." she pleaded.

He clenched his jaw, his heart twisting at her words. He wanted nothing more than to promise her that he would come back, that he would survive and return to her. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't make false promises, not to her. He had to be honest, even if it hurt.

"Don't pray for me," he said, his voice hoarse. "Pray for yourself. Pray for a good life."

"And a good life is a life with you."

He clenched his jaw, his eyes shutting tight as her words hit him like a ton of bricks. He knew she was right; his presence in her life would bring her happiness and fulfillment. But he also knew that he couldn’t give her that. He couldn’t give her the life she deserved, the life they had both envisioned.

His hands tightened around her face, his grip gentle yet firm. "You need to let go," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You need to let me go."

"I WON'T! I WON'T! I WON'T!" She was screaming, her head shaking in every direction, tears falling like a relentless storm.

He pulled her gently towards him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly against his chest. Her screams and tears cut through him like a knife, each one a reminder of the pain he was causing her.

He buried his face in her hair, his breathing ragged. "Please," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "Please, don’t make this harder."

He held her, letting her cry and scream into his chest, his own heart breaking with every tear she shed. He wanted to comfort her, to take away her pain, but he knew there was nothing he could do.

He pressed his lips against her hair, his own eyes filling with tears. "You have to be strong," he repeated, his voice hoarse. "You have to be strong without me."

"I love you… more than anything… never doubt that."

He pulled back slightly, lifting her chin so that she was looking at him. His eyes searched hers, trying to commit her face to memory again.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice failed him. All he could do was look at her, his chest tightening with emotion. It was like looking at a piece of his soul, a part of himself that he would be leaving behind.

"I love you," he forced the words out, his voice thick with emotion. "More than life itself."

"I’ll wait for you."

He let out a shaky breath, his chest tightening at her words. Part of him wanted to believe that she would wait for him, that she would hold onto the hope that he would come back to her.

But another part of him knew that it was hopeless. The odds were stacked against him, and the likelihood of him surviving this mission was slim. He didn’t want her to waste her life waiting for him, hoping for something that would probably never happen.

"You can’t," he said, his voice rough. "You have to move on."

Her grip tightened on him; her voice was trembling. "I can't... I don't know how to live without you."

"You’ll learn," he whispered, his own tears falling now. "You’ll find a way. You’re stronger than you think."

"I don’t want to be strong," she cried, her voice breaking. "I want you."

He closed his eyes, the pain in his chest almost unbearable. "I know," he said softly. "I want you too... more than anything. But sometimes, wanting isn't enough."

She clung to him, her sobs wracking her body. He held her tightly, as if trying to hold onto every moment they had left.

"I’ll always be with you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "In your heart. In your memories."

"That’s not enough," she sobbed. "I need you here, with me."

"I know," he said, his own voice breaking. "I know. But you have to promise me... promise me you'll live. Promise me you'll try to be happy."

"Then I'll wait in death." She held her ground.

His eyes widened, a mix of shock and pain flitting through his gaze. He hadn't expected her to say that, to make such a declaration.

He gripped her wrists, his eyes fixated on her, a mixture of emotions warring inside him. He wanted to protest, to tell her that she was being ridiculous, that she shouldn't even think about such a thing. But deep down, a part of him also wanted to believe that this was how much she loved him.

"You can't..." he said, his voice strangled.

"I'll tell death I'll wait for you."

He clenched his jaw, his hands tightening around her wrists. He wanted to shake her, to make her understand the foolishness of her words, but he knew it would be futile.

Her conviction, the determination in her voice, it both filled him with a sense of pride and also terrified him. He didn’t want her to give up on her life for him, but her love and devotion were unwavering.

"Don’t say things like that," he croaked, his voice thick with emotion.

She was stubborn; if she wanted something—hell would freeze before she bent her will.

"Why? You don’t want to—"

He cut her off, his eyes flashing with anger and determination. "Of course I don't want to!" he snapped, his voice strained. "I don't want you to spend your life waiting for me, holding on to the hope that I'll come back. It's pointless, goddamnit."

Her face fell back—all that pain, despair, and agony in full display on her beautiful face.

He saw her face fall, saw the devastation etched on her features, and his heart broke. He knew he was causing her pain, that his words were cutting through her like a knife, but he couldn't stop.

"You don’t understand," he said, his voice rough. "You don’t understand what it means for me to leave you. To know that I might never come back. It’s not fair for me to ask you to wait for me."

"I AM YOUR WIFE! I swore to you—we swore to each other, to God, to everyone that we’d love each other through it all!"

His eyes flashed with emotion as she yelled at him, her words hitting him like a physical blow. Yes, they had promised each other, vowed to love each other through everything, through life and death.

But in that moment, it seemed like a cruel promise, a promise that he was breaking. He couldn’t bring himself to lie to her, to give her false hope that he would make it back to her.

He took her shoulders in his hands, his gaze intense and pained. "You think I don't know that?" he said, his voice hoarse. "You think I haven't spent every waking moment regretting the fact that I have to leave you behind? You think I don't wish things were different? That I'm not tearing myself apart with the thought of leaving you?"

He let out a heavy breath, his grip on her shoulders tightening. He needed her to understand, to see the turmoil he was going through, the struggle between love and duty. "But I have to do this," he said, his voice gruff. "I have to go, and I can’t ask you to wait for me. I can’t bear the thought of you spending your life in wait, in limbo, when you could be living it to the fullest."

"I will live, yes… but I’ll never… love… anyone again…" she kissed him deeply, pouring all her love into every kiss.

He kissed her back, his body responding to hers as it always did. The passion and intensity in their kiss spoke volumes of the love they had for each other—a love that was so deep it felt like an endless well.

But even as he kissed her, even as he allowed himself to get lost in the moment, he knew that he had to pull away. He had to bring them back to reality, to the painful truth that he was leaving her behind.

He forced himself to break the kiss, to pull away from her even as every fiber in his being screamed at him to hold her tighter. He looked at her, his eyes full of pain and love, and he knew he had to say what he needed to say.

"You're young," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "You have your whole life ahead of you. You can't just give up on love because of me."

"You gave me forever, even if… it’s for a limited time. And… and I’ll hold onto that forever all my life."

He closed his eyes, her words cutting through him like a knife. He wanted to fight against her words, to tell her that she should move on, that she deserves more than just the memories of their time together.

But he also knew that it was futile, that her love and loyalty were unwavering. He had given her forever in the short time they had together, and she was going to hold onto that forever.

He opened his eyes again, looking at her, his heart in his throat. "You deserve more than that," he choked out, his voice rough.

He struggled with the words, wanting to say something, to make her understand. But everything he wanted to say seemed like a weak attempt at comfort. He took a deep breath, his hands still holding her shoulders.

"You're young and beautiful," he said, his voice gravelly. "You have your whole life ahead of you. There’s bound to be someone out there for you. Someone who can give you the life you deserve."

"Only you, Simon. Only you. Forever it’ll always be you."

5 months later. A knock.

She stumbled out of bed, her heart pounding in her chest as she staggered to the front door. She knew who it was; deep down she knew, and the thought both scared and excited her.

But when she opened the door—

The most agonizing, painful, piercing scream.

An older uniformed gentleman stood there, holding the UK flag and a pressed uniform.

The sight of him on her doorstep, holding that flag and uniform, sent a wave of dread and sorrow crashing through her. She knew what this meant; even before he spoke a word, she knew.

The scream that escaped her lips was primal, a guttural sound of grief and despair. She stumbled backward, her hand going to her mouth as tears streamed down her face.

The older gentleman had a sympathetic look on his face, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. He extended the flag towards her, his voice quiet as he spoke. "I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am."

She fell to her knees, the weight of his words crushing her. The world seemed to blur around her; the colors fading into a dull, lifeless grey. Her fingers trembled as they reached out to touch the flag, the symbol of his sacrifice; the finality of his absence.

Memories flooded her mind—his laugh, his touch, his whispered promises. She clung to the flag, her body shaking with sobs that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul. Every moment they had shared, every kiss, every tear, every laugh—it all felt like a cruel reminder of what she had lost; what she would never get back.

The gentleman stood there silently, giving her the space to grieve; the space to process the unbearable reality. She looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes, searching for some sign that this was a mistake; that this wasn't happening. But his solemn expression told her everything she needed to know.

"How?" she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. "How did he...?"

"He was brave," the gentleman said softly. "He saved us all. He was a hero."

Hero. The word felt hollow; meaningless. He was her hero, but that didn’t bring him back. It didn’t fill the gaping hole in her heart; the emptiness that he left her. It didn’t mean fucking shit if he was a hero. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t here with her. No amount of compensation, medal of valor could bring him back.

She clutched the flag tighter, her fingers digging into the fabric as if she could somehow pull him back through sheer force of will. The older gentleman remained silent, his presence a stark reminder of the finality of it all.  

She wanted to scream, to rage against the universe for taking him away from her; to demand answers from a god who seemed indifferent to her suffering. But no answers came. The universe remained silent; her questions echoing into the void. She stood there, clutching the flag, feeling the weight of her grief pressing down on her; a suffocating blanket she couldn’t escape.

“And i’ll wait in death.”

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST PART FOUR

Unchained Melody (Part Five)

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

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

Word count: 5340

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

" Now that is interesting, Johnny. Very interesting"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

" What is it, Billy?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PART SIX (The Final)

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[corrupte3d-mindz]

Sleepless Nights

Thomas Shelby x Pregnant Wife Reader

Summary: Thomas cares for his wife.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings:

soft Thomas!, kissing, soft talk, lovely husband things.

Thomas prowls the grand corridors of Arrow House with a mixture of determination and unease. The mansion is a labyrinth of opulence, each corner dripping with the wealth he’s fought tooth and nail to secure. Yet, tonight, none of that matters. His mind is solely focused on one thing—finding his pregnant wife.

The house, with its vast rooms and endless hallways, feels both protective and suffocating. The heavy silence is broken only by the distant ticking of an antique clock, a stark reminder of time slipping away. Thomas’s polished shoes echo on the marble floors as he moves through the dimly lit spaces, his keen eyes scanning every shadow and crevice. The opulent decor, a testament to his success, now seems to mock him with its cold grandeur. He enters the library, where shelves upon shelves of leather-bound books line the walls, their spines gleaming in the faint light. The room smells of old paper and cigarette a sanctuary for his restless mind on many nights. But tonight, it offers no solace. He moves on, his pace quickening, his heartbeat mirroring his urgency.

As he strides through the dining hall, the long table stands like an island in the middle of the room, set for a feast that never seems to be eaten. The chandelier above it sparkles, casting prismatic reflections around the room, but Thomas’s eyes are unseeing. He is a man on a mission, driven by an anxiety he rarely allows himself to feel.

Finally, he reaches the living room, a vast space dominated by an enormous fireplace. The flames within flicker and dance, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. And there she is. His wife, his beacon in the storm of his life, sitting on the couch in an awkward yet somehow comfortable position. The sight of her instantly softens his stern expression, though worry still shadows his features. She’s nestled into the corner of the couch, her swollen belly making her position look ungainly to anyone else, but Thomas knows better. He sees the way her hand rests protectively over her stomach, the way her eyes are half-closed in a state of meditative calm. She’s wearing a loose, flowing nightgown that accentuates her maternal glow, the fabric cascading around her like a gentle waterfall.

“Love,” Thomas says softly, his voice a gravelly whisper that cuts through the silence. “Y’alright there?” His thick Birmingham accent adds a rough edge to the tender words, a contrast that defines him so well.

She looks up, her eyes meeting his with a tired but loving gaze. “Tommy,” she replies, a small smile curving her lips. “Just needed a moment. The baby’s been restless tonight.”

Thomas nods, understanding immediately. He crosses the room in a few strides, his presence a mix of power and protectiveness. He sits beside her, the couch dipping slightly under his weight. Gently, he places a hand over hers, feeling the life within her. It’s a moment of connection, grounding him in a way few things can.

“Been lookin’ for you,” he murmurs, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort. “Worried me, y’know.”

She chuckles softly, the sound like music to his ears. “I’m fine, Tommy. Just... needed to be alone for a bit.”

Thomas’s eyes soften further, the hard lines of his face easing as he takes in her serene expression. “Y’should rest more, love. Don’t want you overexertin’ y’self.” His voice is firm yet gentle, the protective husband surfacing through the tough gangster exterior.

She nods, leaning her head back against the couch and closing her eyes. “I know. It’s just... there’s so much to do. So much to prepare for.”

Thomas sighs, his hand moving to gently caress her cheek. “Leave it to me. I’ll handle everythin’. You just focus on our little one, yeah?”

He could see the strain in her eyes, the toll the pregnancy was taking on her. His heart ached for her, wishing he could take away her discomfort. "I wish I could do more," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.

She smiled again, squeezing his hand. "You're here, Tommy. That's enough."

But it wasn't enough for him. He wanted to do more, to alleviate her pain in any way he could. His mind raced, trying to think of something, anything, that might help. Then she spoke again, her voice hesitant.

“Tommy, Ada said if it gets too heavy, you can lift my belly a bit with your hands. It might help.”

Tommy's brow furrowed as he processed her words. It was a simple gesture, yet one that could provide her with some relief. He looked into her eyes, seeing the vulnerability there, and he knew he had to try. "Alright, love," he said, his voice firm with determination. "Let's give it a go."

He moved closer, positioning himself in front of her. His hands, rough and calloused from years of hard work, gently interlaced under her belly. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her dress, the gentle rise and fall of her breath. Slowly, he lifted, supporting the weight of their child. She let out a sigh of relief, her body relaxing into his touch.

"Better?" he asked, his voice soft.

She nodded, her eyes closing once more. "So much better. Thank you, Tommy."

He held her there, his strong arms supporting her, providing the comfort she so desperately needed. In that moment, all the worries and burdens of their world faded away, leaving only the two of them. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to simply be present, to cherish the moment.

"You're incredible, you know that?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Strongest woman I know."

She smiled, a soft blush creeping into her cheeks. "I have to be, married to you."

He chuckled, the sound low and rough. "Yeah, I suppose you do." His gaze softened as he looked at her, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings. "But I wouldn't change a thing. Not a bloody thing."

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and reassuring. Tommy's thoughts drifted to their future, to the life they were building together. It was a life filled with uncertainty and danger, but it was theirs. And as long as they had each other, he knew they could face anything. Eventually, he shifted, carefully lowering his hands and easing her back into a more comfortable position. He smiles, before cupping her face; his hands calloused from years of work, are surprisingly gentle as they cup her cheeks. He brushes a few stray strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear with a care that belies his hardened exterior. The feel of her skin under his fingertips is a reminder of all that he has fought for, and all that he stands to lose.

“Love,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble, thick with his Birmingham accent. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” The words are simple, but they carry a weight of sincerity that is unmistakable.

She looks up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and fatigue. Pregnancy has been both a blessing and a challenge, but in this moment, with Thomas so close, she feels a sense of peace. He leans in, closing the small distance between them, and presses his lips to hers. The kiss is intense, filled with a passion that speaks volumes of his devotion. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a promise, a silent vow that he will always be there for her.

His hands move from her face to her shoulders, sliding down her arms and resting on her swollen belly. He can feel the life growing inside her, their child, the future of the Shelby legacy. The thought fills him with a fierce protectiveness, a determination to shield them both from the dangers of his world. He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“You’ve got to know,” he whispers, his voice husky with emotion, “I’d do anything for you. Anythin’ to keep you safe.” His words are punctuated by the gentle movement of his hands, caressing her belly as if to reassure both her and their child of his unwavering commitment.

Thomas stirred from sleep, his body instantly alert despite the lingering remnants of exhaustion. The warmth of the morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes, casting faint, golden lines across the bed where he lay. His hand reached instinctively to the other side, expecting to feel the familiar form of his wife beside him. The cool, empty sheets met his touch instead, sending a wave of unease through him. He sat up abruptly, the fine sheen of cold sweat on his forehead catching the light. He ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it back from his face as his sharp blue eyes scanned the room.

The clock on the mantel ticked softly, marking the time as just past nine in the morning. Thomas swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the chill of the wooden floor against his bare feet grounding him. He rose to his full height, stretching out the tension in his muscles. He was dressed only in his boxers, the morning air cool against his skin. The bedroom was silent, save for the sounds that nature produced in the waking hours of the morning.

His mind raced through possibilities as he left the bedroom, each step measured and deliberate. The house was vast, and his wife could be anywhere, but his instinct told him to check the usual places first. The corridor outside their bedroom was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn against the morning light. Thomas moved with purpose, his eyes darting to each doorway as he passed. He checked the nursery, but it was empty save for the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through the window. The sitting room was similarly deserted, the furniture untouched and the air still.

Thomas’s worry deepened with each empty room. He descended the grand staircase, his hand trailing along the polished banister. The ground floor was no different – the study, the drawing room, all empty. He paused at the doorway to the dining room, listening intently. The faintest clink of cutlery reached his ears, a sound so subtle it could easily have been missed. Relief washed over him, but he kept his composure as he moved toward the kitchen, the source of the noise.

The kitchen was a contrast to the rest of the house – warm, filled with the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and other culinary delights. The sight that greeted Thomas made him pause in the doorway. His wife was at the counter, her back to him, completely absorbed in her task. She was preparing her favorite pregnancy craving, a look of contentment on her face as she worked. Her hair was loosely tied back, and she had her loose, flowing nightgown, made of soft, breathable fabric, was adorned with delicate lace and ribbon trims. He had it made especially for her.

A soft chuckle escaped Thomas’s lips, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Hungry, eh? For whatever you're eatin' at what... nine in the mornin'..." His voice was low, the thick Birmingham accent adding a familiar roughness to his words.

She turns to him, a small smile playing on her lips. Her eyes are bright, despite the early hour, and there's a certain glow about her that he finds both endearing and reassuring. "Well... I originally woke up because I had to throw up... but then it wore off and I just sat there for a bit before I actually did throw up..." she explains, her voice trailing off as she takes another bite.

He crosses the room to her, his worry giving way to a tender affection. He reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch gentle and careful. "You alright now?" he asks, his voice softening. "You and the little one?"

She nods, placing the bowl on the counter. "Yes, we're fine. Just one of those mornings."

Thomas wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. He can feel the slight swell of her belly against his skin, a constant reminder of the new life growing inside her. "You should've woken me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She laughs softly, resting her head against his chest. "You need your rest too, Tommy. Besides, it’s nothing I can’t handle."

He holds her for a moment longer, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. The kitchen, with its warm morning light and the comforting presence of his wife, feels like a sanctuary. A stark contrast to the chaos and violence that often defines his life outside these walls. He pulls back slightly, looking down at her with a mixture of love and concern. "If you need anythin', you come get me. Don’t try to be too strong on your own."

She nods, understanding the depth of his worry. "I will, I promise."

They both stood there looking at each other.

"Any plans for today?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

She looks up at him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I was thinking of organizing the nursery a bit more. And maybe take a walk in the garden if the weather holds."

He nods, appreciating her simple plans. "Sounds good. I’ve got a meeting later, but I’ll be back by lunch. We can go for that walk together."

She smiles, the idea pleasing her. "I’d like that."

Author’s Notes:

Credit for the smol sparkle divider: CafeKitsune

[iid-smile]

can't get rid of me , fushiguro toji

sent straight from... hell, with a cigarette in hand , chapter two

the series masterlist. | previous | next

cw: smoking, profanity, money talk, odd conversation, just a lot of smoking

author's note: its hard trying to build on a characters story when you havent got it written out on paper (like me) lol font make this mistake because building as you go is painful

at last, night was just around the corner.

you put megumi to bed as soon as you could, despite the high risk that he'll be the one waking you up in the morning and not the other way around.

you're well aware you should quit smoking, for your sake and his, but you just can't. it takes so much weight off of your shoulders, even if it's just for a few hours, or maybe even minutes. it brings peace to your mind, but it's more like you can't think at all rather than having the negative thoughts pushed out.

and here, you find yourself around the back of the slummy apartment block, holding your last three cigarettes in your hand. multiple times have you peered up at your floor, checking through the window that the light to your son's bedroom remains off. you know that he's well-behaved, but sometimes kids just get up to the oddest things when their parents aren't around; if you even consider yourself worthy enough to be one.

the only lighter you have seems to have enough fluid, but it's hard to say when there's little to no lampposts in this area. on top of that, it's windy, so if the flame keeps blowing out... you're doomed.

and wow, would you look at that! every time you press on the pusher, the little beam of joy that sprouted out just had to be blown out. better yet, it's completely dead now. there's no store within a walking distance that you could reach in time, and you sure as hell don't want to be knocking around on doors when your neighbours know you have a kid.

addiction sure is scary.

"bloody hell..." you mutter, your head throwing back onto the concrete wall behind you. it hurt, but the rising irritation burning up in your throat was worse. way worse. perhaps this is a sign..?

"need a light?"

one of your eyes open and gaze off to the right, only to see a tall-ish silhouette of a man. your eyes squint, and a scowl quickly overcomes your face, ready to scare him off if need be. "who are you?"

"just call me..." the mystery man hums for a moment, hands in pockets as he steps closer to you. "kong. mr kong." you can tell he's got a smile, or what you'd (not) like to think is a smirk, and he comes up to lean against the wall beside you.

automatically, you shift over to create a wider gap between the two of you, and you cross your arms in defence. "well, mr kong, i don't appreciate you approaching me in the middle of the night."

"and i don't appreciate your attitude either, missy. for someone who looks so distressed, you really don't seem to want what you're craving, do you?" he says, his tone awfully amused.

is that a threat? sounds like a threat to you. and it definitely sounds like it's got multiple layers to it. "i don't want shit from you." you bark back.

"oh, really?" in the corner of your eye, you watch as he takes out a cigarette box, placing one in between his teeth. "then, don't mind me." he turns his head away from you, and a quiet flick flick commences. the thick gust of smoke wafting into the air was only a dream for you at the moment.

this guy... this mr kong guy... he's teasing you. he dares to come into your personal space, and rub it in your face that he's got a lit cigarette and you don't. something bubbles in your throat, like you're salivating at the thought of your mouth running dry. you have to. "wait, actually—"

"exactly." the tab in your hand was tightly pinched between your middle and index finger, and he takes it upon himself to press a fire against the butt. "let's handle this like adults, yeah?"

as anticipated, your face immediately lights up. this is a sign! weird strangers that approach you in the middle of the night are the best sources for a light! and he's got money too, you can tell by the design. chic and sleek, black, gold accents. rich guys usually go for things like that, right? with no ring on his finger, you're going to try butter him up.

you gaze at him, trying to find anything to talk about, but you could only notice his appearance. tall, stubble, suit. the surname kong doesn't really sound japanese... maybe he's not from here. that would be disrespectful to ask though. the sound of his sighs and mumbles catches your attention, and you immediately pounce at the opportunity. "are you stressed?"

"definitely. got a man-child on my hands. will not stop whining about how much he misses his wife." mr kong groans again, his free hand coming to loosen his tie.

you tilt your head more at him. "and the wife in question is...?"

"no, it's him that's away. locked away, to be precise." he's staring off at nothing, mindlessly repeating his actions. "he's always visibly disappointed when it's me visiting and not her. it's not like she ever will anyway, so he should give it up."

rapid fire questions are the way to go. "what did he go in for?"

"a lot of things." another pause as he takes a drag, sighing again as he takes a glance at you. "something a woman like you shouldn't hear." ...rapid fire was cut short.

rude and assuming... also, that's the second time kong guy here has said something suspicious. you can't even be mad, not when you want to milk some money out of him. hell, even that little light he gave you could've cost a whole ten thousand yen note. you've got nothing else to ask.

"got kids, by any chance?" he asks inquisitively, or maybe trying to fill for the silence, a question for you.

"a little boy. well... he won't be so little anymore soon." your eyes drifts down to the ground, and you fiddle with a little strand of hair that was within your sight. "he's only got me, i've only got him."

"and the father?"

and tell him that your ex-husband also coincidentally went to prison for bad things too? yeah, no. "...gone."

"unfortunate." mr kong seems to be trying to find something else to look at, having used up all of what was in front of him. "you live here?"

"yep." you shouldn't even try to deny it. surely he saw you glancing up at the windows multiple times, even before he came up to you. there's no point in lying.

when he turns back to you, his eyebrow raises; he's amused again. "you really make me pity you, missy. it's not often that i feel that way."

now he's looking down on you?

it's like as soon as you heard that word pity, you saw dollar signs blinding your eyes. "...think you could help me out? some bills and stuff?" shit, you're asking too early! so shameless about it too.

not only was your kiss ass attempt obvious, you're asking a random man that you don't even know for financial help. you're seriously vulnerable to scammers.

"sure."

"what?"

"i said sure."

"but i didn't even—"

mr kong chuckles, mockingly too. "money always comes with a price. just be ready for it." with that, he stomps out his used up cigarette, walking off as he lights himself a new one.

he's too trusting, or you're signing yourself up for something dangerous. either way, it's like he was aware you would accept no matter the conditions. does this guy know you already or what? and when the hell will you be able to see him again?

no... he's familiar.

taglist: open!

@iheartlinds @ssetsuka

[ghxstyfae]

Jake Webber coquette girl? 😻‼️

Hi cutie🫶🏻 just did some headcanons for ya<3

Pearly Kisses ♡ J.Webber

Synopsis: headcanons of Jake Webber and his coquette gf

Warnings: 18 + under labelled section, cigarettes, let me know if i missed anything

Masterlist

Sfw

These two are like night and day, aesthetically speaking.

This causes them get looks (mostly from old ppl) wherever they go

Jake 'steals' her makeup

Sometimes when shes getting ready in the morning, sitting at her vanity with a fluffy headband and dozens of skincare and makeup products, he'll just sit on the floor beside her and watch

Makeup all over his bedsheets, especially mascara and lipsticks

"Jakey my dress doesnt have any pockets!! Can you keep my lipstick, wallet and phone in yours? Pretty please"

And of course he will, but tells her to leave her wallet at home because ?? Obviously hes gonna pay for anything she would need, and he's driving anywhere she needs to go.

Takes her to get her nails done on routine, he makes a whole day of it.

First, the appointment, if its a longer one he might leave for a bit and bring back some food for her and her tech. Next, they'll either go to get food if they havent already eaten, or some kinda drink (dunkin, tims, maccas, etc). Then they go shopping or thrifting, and finish the evening with dinner

Feels so out of place in her bedroom at first. Pastel pink, white, and cream shades were they only colours in her room + its full of clean, fluffy blankets and stuffies

"Jake theres literally a huge wine stain on my rug and empty snack wrappers everywhere idc if you make a mess"

But within a month half his tiktoks have a girly background because he records them while hes waiting for her to be done her makeup.

Jake now actively listens to Lana del rey on a daily basis, and his spotify wrapped will have atleast one of her songs on it

Sometimes, if gf happens to smoke, they share a cigarette and she leaves a lipstick stain on it

Speaking of, lipstick stains on his cheeks, neck, forehead, etc 24/7

Jake plans on getting her kiss mark tattooed on his neck after they get married

Nsfw

Likes to have her ride his cock in her tiny little miniskirts, will play with the bows in her hair and praise her for being such a good girl for him

Corruption kink goes brrr

Loves seeing tou all dolled up for him just so he can destroy it🤭

Valentines day special: bought her some cute lingerie and covered the room in pink flower petals, lit some candles and they had a beautiful dinner. He proceeds to absolutely WRECK her.

Would actually go FERAL if gf happened to have some kinda womb tattoo/trapstamp . just saying.

Hey, their isnt too many and they arent very good, so Im so sorry my love. I really hope you still enjoy though<3 if you'd like, id love to make a part two

My masterlist

[sugarstartitzzz]

CIGARETTE BURN; smut.

sugarstartitzzz

ROUGH.

Amidst the soft glow of candlelight, Mila and Matt sat at a cozy table in the corner of their favorite Italian restaurant, which was Mila’s because you were allowed the smoke there. Laughter and chatter filled the air as they shared stories and enjoyed their meals.

Mila glanced affectionately at Matt, her heart swelling with love for the man beside her. But as the evening progressed, she noticed a subtle shift in his demeanor. His playful banter turned into thinly veiled jabs, each comment pushing her patience a little further. Matt would sometimes act out like this for no apparent reason and she never said anything, knowing she was too angry to be able to hold back from saying something she’d regret once she’d start. Her anger allowed her to do nothing but scream when Matt got like this, and most of the time, she did not want to.

What a dick, I thought to myself. As Matt’s words sliced through the air like a dagger, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger bubbling within me because of how hurt I was. His attempts at humor fell flat, each comment landing with the weight of an anvil and poisoning the once vibrant atmosphere around us. Despite my mounting frustration, I bit back my retorts in an attempt to remain calm and not act impulsively on my anger.

Eventually, I pulled out a cigarette and lit it, letting the smoke fill my lungs. “You can’t go a day without smoking?” Matt asked in a harsh, monotone voice. I shut my eyes at those words and breathed out through my nose, taking the cigarette back up to my mouth, sucking in the smoke softly and blowing it out. I tongued my front teeth before pressing the freshly lit cigarette onto his hand.

Everyone’s eyes widened in shock as Matt flinched back roughly and hissed in pain, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yelled. I smirked sadistically at his reaction. Is it wrong to have enjoyed that? yeah. Is that fact gonna stop me from enjoying it? fuck.no.

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Matt stated harshly, raising his angry voice before unexpectedly grabbing a hold on my wrist and dragging me away from everyone. Strings of curses continued to leave his mouth as he did so.

“Ow!” I exclaimed eventually as the pain of his tight grip got too much. He dragged me all the way out the restaurant and practically shoved me in the car. I didn’t say anything out of shock of his sudden actions, obviously I was expecting him to be mad but only verbally, at most to break up with me.

He pulled me into the house he shared with his brothers who we had left at the restaurant. Matt shut the door and without a warning or time to process anything he speaks demandingly, “get on your knees.”

“what?” I asked with surprise, scrunching up my face slightly.

The annoyance in his eyes were elevated by my question, a hard sigh through his nose left before he grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me down into the position he originally wanted me in. My knees fell weak with aching after they had roughly hit the floor.

Matt undid his belt in a fast manner, the action followed by him unzipping his pants, “You’re a real fucking bitch, you know that?” He spoke lowly.

His dick sprung up, almost hitting me in the face and making me flinch back yet I was given no time to come back from the jump scare when his cold hand grabbed a rough hold of my jaw— forcing it open.

He shoved his dick into my mouth, thrusting it at an incredibly fast pace as he had a handful of my hair, using both hands to hold onto my head. I gagged as I felt his cock go repeatedly in and out of my throat, my eyes welling up with tears. My hands held onto his hips for support.

I shut my eyes in pain before starting to reach upwards, pushing him away which signalled for him to stop. As soon as he pulled his dick out my mouth, a string of coughs left my mouth, saliva and tears mixed with mascara dripping down my chin.

Matt wrapped one hand around my neck and the other grabbing a chunk of my hair as he pulled he up with no intent of being gentle. Then, he pushed me down yet again, putting my hands and knees on the stairs in doggy position.

He undid my pants and pulled them down with my underwear in one motion, my desperate coughing gasps for air became one shocked gasp as he began pounding into me with no mercy. “You fucking whore.” Matt mumbled angrily with a breathy tone, his hands holding onto my hips for support as he continued ramming into me at a fast pace.

My moans intensified each second, “Matt!” I screamed out in a mix of pain and pleasure from his roughness, feeling the knot tie in my stomach. I whimpered as he roughly slapped my eyes, leaving a residue of an unbearable sting.

He pulls me back by my hair, pressing me up against him with one hand on boobs and the other wrapped tightly around my neck as he slows his thrusts. Matt groans into my ear before marking my neck, biting into me in an almost malicious way. He brings his lips back up to my ear, “Fuck you.” I let out a weak moan before croaking out— “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you should be.” He said with bitterness, turning me around quickly and shoving my back into the cold hard stairs. I let out heavy breaths mixed with whimpers as he put my legs on his shoulder, thrusting his dick in me slowly. “You’re gonna apologise to me in the exact way that I want you to. Understand?” Matt stated, his face close to mine, making me nervous with direct eye contact. I nodded softly. “Speak.” He demanded.

“Yeah.” I complied quietly, biting my lip in pleasure. “Yeah what?” He demanded again, wanting more, his thrusts slowing as a warning as he knew how badly it tortured me to be fucked slowly. “I understand.” I replied in a pathetic, pleading tone. “Good girl.” He laid a soft peck on my lips before backing away from me and picking up his pace, his tip bruising my cervix.

It felt as though he was ramming right into my stomach. My moans collided with his soft groans in the air like a harmonised song.

A moan left his mouth, his hands gripped onto my thighs with his painted nails digging into my skin. My hands slid all around the staircase in an attempt to hold onto something yet that want was disturbed by his sudden, rough movements moving my entire body. “I’m gonna cum!” I moaned out, my words a soft whimper. “Mhm. Go ahead.” Matt’s voice was low and quiet as he approved through breaths.

My moans became more of a scream as I released all over his dick, my orgasm overtaking my entire body with pleasure. My eyes rolled back, he moaned as soon as I came yet paid no attention to slowing down to let me ride out my orgasm and only intensified his pounding.

Matt grabbed ahold of my legs by my ankles, pressing them together and bending them to the side. “Fuck.” He moaned lowly, he let himself fall, catching himself with his hand on the stairs one step above my head. His other hand took a rough grip on my jaw— making me directly look at him. “Say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” I conceded quietly. “Louder.”

“I’m sorry!”

Matt’s hand connected with my face in between his harsh thrusts making me moan through heavy breaths, “Fucking slut.” he uttered angrily, taking his dick out me and spreading my legs open. Matt grabbed ahold of my waist and picked me up, turning around and pressing me against the door with force, making sure I didn’t bang my head on it.

He slid his big cock back inside me, bouncing me on him for a little bit— “Fuck, Matt…” I moaned, he eventually began his rough thrusts again, bounding me without mercy. My moans intensified into screams as I felt my next orgasm build up. He slapped my ass as hard as he could twice in a row, leaving behind a painful redness before aggressively pressing his lips to mine.

I moaned into his mouth as I came again, leaving it agape as I let my head fall into his shoulder. My brain melting orgasm lasted long, and that accompanied by Matt’s merciless pounding made it unbearable. “Mm..” I whimpered, hearing him groan as I scratched his back, feeling unable to even think.

“Look at me, you fucking bitch.” Matt spat out his words aggressively. “I can’t…” I managed to whimper out my quiet words. He grabbed me by my neck and pressed my head up against the door, forcing me to look at him. My vision was blurry, my eyes sleepy as I shut them roughly. “Too much.” I moaned.

“Fuck, baby, let me finish.” his voice came across softer as he kissed me gently. He stopped his thrusts to lay me down on the ground and pushed himself back into me in missionary.

Although his thrusts started slow, they intensified like always— becoming more rough and fast as he rode out his high. Our moans collided, filling up the silence.

He fell on top of me, his thrusts becoming sloppy as I felt his load shoot up into me with a hard thrust, his low whimpers like a song in my ear. My eyes widened at the sensation of him cumming in me.

After a few moments he lifted himself off of me, gently stroking my hair out my face as he spoke gently, “You okay?” He inquired genuinely.

“Mhm.” I nodded, my body still feeling weak. “I didn’t hurt you, yeah?”

“I’m okay.” I smiled softly before he gently took my hand into his and stood up— helping me up. I stumbled onto my feet, my legs feeling wobbly as I almost fell but was caught by Matt. “Come here, let’s go take a shower.” He said with a carefulness in his voice as he picked me up bridal style and carried me up the stairs and into the bathroom in his room.

The hot water cascaded down, enveloping me in its warmth. The steam rose around me, filling the air with a comforting haze. Matt’s hands find my hips from behind me, kissing my cheek then moving onto my neck. I hold onto his wrists gently as his right hand reaches towards my pussy. He rubbed circles on my swollen clit making me moan. His fingers slid downwards into my hole, pumping in and out a few times before he took them out and put them in my mouth. “Suck.” Matt demanded and I did as told.

“Good girl.”

[vinyldreamsfuckup]

Pose

Warnings: drinking, smoking, fluff, banter

You were always known to be quite fiery. Most of the guys would call you stubborn and feisty but also incredibly hot, kind, and endearing. you found yourself at a t-shirt shop making a custom t-shirt for your boyfriend all because of something he said, and it all kind of clicked. Maybe you were quite stubborn and you definitely followed through on your pranks.

So here’s how it started, you were out on the road with Guns N’ Roses. You and Axl had become quite close considering you were dating Slash. And you two LOVED pulling pranks on him. Lived for it actually. This one might just be the funniest one yet. It wasn’t one where someone could get hurt or something like a simple jump scare. This took time and effort. Slash and you had quite the dynamic, always teasing and poking fun at each other. So when Slash said you were “getting old” and would “have gray hair soon” you took it a step further. You and Axl had been making fun of Slash ALL WEEK. Practically convincing the poor 24 year old he had gray hair. Calling him Grandpa, telling him he’d need hair dye and a cane soon. You realized you might have taken it too far when you’d seen him checking his hair for gray hair.

So all of it leads to now, you two had come up with a truce. He wears a specially made t-shirt and you’d both stop with the old jokes. Even though they didn’t even make sense because you were only 22 and he was 24, but it was beside the point. So here you were, standing in the dumb t-shirt shop in Ohio just hoping you finished soon so you wouldn’t make everyone late. You were making him a “World’s Sexiest Grandpa” t-shirt with the dot above the ‘i’ being his iconic top hat. And when they held up the first for you to inspect it, you knew it was perfect.

You stepped onto the tour bus holding the shirt behind your back. Axl looked over at you with a huge smile. Slash was sitting on the couch drinking and bantering with Axl and Duff. When he saw Axl’s wide grin he turned to look at you.

“Hi baby, whatcha got there?” Slash asked raising an eyebrow.

“Oh nothing,” You bit back a smile and kept your hold on the t-shirt. Axl chuckled.

“You’re being really suspicious,” Slash said with a small laugh and he stood up. He set his cup down on the small table that was bolted to the floor, “What is it?”

“Okay, I have a present for you,” You said with a smile. Slash’s eyebrows furrowed and Axl laughed even harder.

"A present?" Slash raised an eyebrow. You nodded and giggled slightly, "Well what is this present?"

You gently pulled the shirt from behind your back and showed him the shirt. Axl and Duff started laughing loudly and Slash's jaw dropped.

"Oh my god. It's even better than I thought it would be," Axl laughed out. Duff was wiping tears from his eyes as he tried to breathe through the laughter.

"No fucking way," Slash laughed and stood up. He walked over to you and grabbed the shirt from your hands.

"Is that his fucking top hat?" Axl asked through his laughter. You nodded proudly as Slash immediately took off his shirt and pulled on the new one.

Duff's laughter bubbled out of him, filling the whole tour bus with the sound, "Oh my god! It's even better with it on."

"Wait! Wait! Oh my god!" You chuckled and ran to the back of the bus. Slash giggled and lit a cigarette. He leaned on the small dining table and crossed his arms.

"Yeah yeah. Laugh it up. I think this whole "grandpa" thing is growing on me," Slash chuckled out. Axl and Duff could barely breathe as they watched him. The shirt was a size too small and was tightly pressed against his chest. You walked back down the small hallway of the bus holding a Polaroid camera.

"No. No, I will not be taking pictures in this," Slash chuckled out as he straightened.

"Oh come on. Don't be a grumpy grandpa," You chuckled out. He rolled his eyes.

"Fine, one picture," Slash said seriously. You laughed.

"You'll be taking more than one," You said jokingly. You brought the camera up to your eye and prepared to take the picture, "Smile."

Slash rolled his eyes and posed for the picture. He put his hand on his hip and smiled goofily. You chuckled and took the picture. Axl and Duff laughed and went to grab the picture as it rolled out of the Polaroid.

It turned into a full of photoshoot with Slash goofily taking pictures in the shirt that was much too small for him. You were so in love with him. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you close to his chest.

"Are you happy now?" Slash asked. You nodded.

"I am," You responded, Slash set his head on your shoulder.

"So no more grandpa or grandma talk?" Slash asked as he raised an eyebrow. You couldn't help but smile.

"No more grandpa or grandma talk. Even if you are the world's sexiest," You said with a teasing tone. He let out a breathy laugh.

"God I love you," Slash said with a smile.

"I love you too," You responded and bit back a smile.

[fictionalgap]

The Heat

(chapter 1)

Pairing: Chef! Abby Anderson x Cook! Reader

Summary: Abby is a chef and you are a cook working for her. You get distracted everytime she wears someting that shows her arms. Abby gets mad at you because you are not focused on your job.

Warnings: 18+ themes, swearing, sexual themes, nsfw, mdni

Song Recommendation: Delicious - Ruby Amanfu

Inspired by @d3arapril 's post

"Jesus! What's wrong with you?"

You took the potatoes one by one from the floor.

"Sorry, chef."

You got up from the floor, potatoes in your hands. You faced with your new chef for a couple of months, Abby.

You gulped as you cleaned the drops on your face with a cloth you usually tuck it in your pocket.

"Really, what's going on?" She raised her right brow.

"Nothing, chef. " You lied.

Abby sighed heavily. It was damn fucking attractive when she looked like 'she was done with it'.

You were even attracted to her breathing and it was getting really pathetic and serious at this point.

You were attracted to her since you saw her the day you came into this kitchen for job interview.

Her face, her voice, her smell, her presence, the determined and harsh look in her eyes…

Her arms…

It was the very first day of work when you first saw her arms. She was wearing a sleeveless light blue shirt that matched her eyes.

You knew working for her would be an honor. You just had to follow orders.

You thought It wouldn't be hard to follow orders If they are coming from her.

You did as she said without hesitation and quickly. She was pleased with you as much as you can tell.

There were times that you came up with ideas and those shocked her, probably in a good way cause she still didn't fire you and agreed on your adjustments on menu. She didn't comment on them in front of others. It was understandable. Jealously in kitchen caused mobbing.

The problem was, your feelings and your attraction started to grow more and more each day.

You would start to drool on job thinking her fucking you in the pantry against the shelves.

"I am sorry, chef! It won't happen again."

"You said the same thing the last time we talked about this. Do you need a break or-"

"No,no. I am good, chef. I promise!" you tried to convince the woman in front of you.

"Hm…" she made a sound that made your pussy cry for help.

It was really hard to work like this.

"Are you avoiding me?"

"What? No,no chef! Never. What made you think that? " you rambled in a breath with widened eyes.

"You turn around whenever I come... "

"No, no. I'm sorry It looked like that chef." You explained in desperation.

It was true though. You avoided her. How the hell were you supposed to work with this hot woman when she was beside you.

"Hm…" she held her own chin while she was thinking.

"Raymond! You take the order five, too." she told your coworker and pulled your hand to take you outside, to the back of the restaurant.

"Cigarette?"

You nodded and she held you a cigarette and you took it between your fingers.

"Thank you."

She lit up her cigarette and turned to you to lit yours up too.

"Y/N. whats going on? " she let the the smoke out to the side and then turned to you.

You wished she blew the smoke on your face.

You sighed heavily. How could you tell her that she should wear something with sleeves because her arms were so fucking distracting.

Every time she lifted her arm to inhale the smoke your eyes followed her arms.

This time it was too fucking obvious.

"What, is there something on my arm?" She asked obliviously. She looked at her arm then looked at you, questioning.

You blinked to her question. You instinctively licked your lips and gulped without moving your eyes from her arm.

"I-I I uhm I I just I, uhm... "

Her questioning, oblivious face turned into a playful smirk. Her eyes got smaller and shinier. There was something else.

Mischief.

No. . . Something darker.

Yet sweet.

She took a step to you as If she wasn't close enough.

"Now, that can't be the reason you were so distracted for weeks, can't it? " She looked like she was having fun. She looked amused.

You felt bad. Were you just a amusement to her? Something that she will tell her friends when they were hanging out.

Like ' Yeah, there was this girl who couldn't function because she was drooling over my muscles. '

You gulped. You couldn't answer. She started to laugh. She moved over and you could feel her breath over your face. You blinked again an again. Her smell was mesmerizing.

Her eyes darted to your lips and your eyes darted to her lips. You licked your lips.

"Chef! We need you inside! " Raymond came from the kitchen but stopped when he saw you two.

"Ugh.. Uhm I-" His thumb was pointed to the kitchen door. He had a shocked expression on his face.

He must have felt the tension.

"Coming! " Abby growled. Her jaw clenched.

He went back to the kitchen quickly.

She looked into your eyes with a smile.

"Don't worry sweetheart. I'll take care of it."

She did something you didn't expect.

She put her thumb on your lips and caressed them with it.

"I'll take care of everything..." she whispered.

You automatically opened your mouth and she took the advantage of sliding her thumb further into your mouth.

She got closer to your ear and whispered.

"That's all you can get right now. " then she left quickly without taking a look at you.

You looked dumbfounded at the door which is slightly moving back and forth because of Abby's entrance.

'What just happened? ' you breathed heavily.

Taglist: @valenftcrush @elliewilliamsgf69 @hayatistirahati @rubycruzsbitch @kyleeservopoulos @d3arapril @scarletchase1989 @chrry1ovr @scarletchase1989

[juiles]

Sticking Out Sucks 3

Requested: no

Summary: part 3 of the au where they find out a secret of yours they dont love.

Tags: fluff

Triggers: smoking

Masterlist here.

Requests here.

Taglist here.

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

I looked out at the field below my window as I sat on the windowsill, a cigarette between my lips taking small puffs. A calming lull of security ran around me as Queen songs played on in the background. This was something I did when I knew my new mothers were out. It was a lot easier to hide when they hated me. Well, I guess they never hated me but when they decided to ignore me for my own benefit. Something I’m still getting used to is having two parents who care about my health. If they knew I smoked, they would freak out, I would probably get grounded for life.

I heard the elevator ding meaning someone was coming on to our floor which was odd because nobody but me and my mothers ever came up here. I quickly extinguished the cigarette in my hand and stashed the whole pack and my lighter away in a small nook right outside that was kept dry by a stone I shoved over top. I quickly sprayed some body spray around my room and settled back on the windowsill, music still playing in the background.

I heard a knock and yelled come in. My door opened and Bruce was standing in my doorway. “Your moms told me to feed you while they were gone, din-“ He stopped mid sentence and sniffed the air around him. “Why does it strongly smell like vanilla with a hint of cigarette smoke in here?” My heart rate picked up slightly but, on the outside, kept a calm façade. I shrugged flipping the knife in my hand around. “Y/N?”

“Its probably someone outside smoking. I had a candle lit not too long ago.” I muttered looking over at the man in the doorway. “What did my mothers say you were to do again?” I asked placing the switchblade on the dresser beside me.

“Right. Food is on the table in the kitchen. Its pizza and wings. Sorry I can’t cook like your mom.” He said with a small sheepish look on his face. I shrugged and grabbed my phone off my bed, following him as he walks out my door and towards the elevator.

“That’s fine. I was used to less than that before.” I said as he pushed the elevator button and the doors opened with a ding. I pushed past him lightly as I got on, him following up behind me and pressing the button for the main living floor where the kitchen was. We stood in silence as I scrolled through my phone.

“If you’re smoking you need to tell me.” He said out of the blue, making me look up at him with shock. “You’re thirteen years old. Your body is not ready to handle those types of things. Those drugs.” He said looking at me strongly.

I tried to play it cool. “If I was smoking Bruce, you wouldn’t know. I’m to smart for that.” I bit my lip looking down at my feet as the doors opened. I quickly stepped out of the elevator and made my way towards the kitchen trying to get away from him.

As I sat and ate my pizza, the doors opened revealing my two mothers, dirty but otherwise not looking to bad. “Detka.” I looked up and my face broke out into a giant smile. My safe people were home. It had been a week since my breakdown and they’ve been nothing but supportive in everything I need and I knew that tomorrow we would be having the conversation with Fury about taking me off missions, something that I was ridiculously looking forward to.

“Momma!” I said, hopping off the stool and running towards the two women. “Mama! You guys are back early! I thought you wouldn’t be back until early tomorrow morning!”

“We happened to finish early so we thought we would come home and spend the night together! Movie night?” Natasha said with a small smile as I wrapped myself up into their arms. Nat sniffed my head then pulled me back with a raised eyebrow.

My smile immediately faded as I looked up at the redhead in front of me. “Hi mama.” I said sheepishly. Her smile faded as well as she looked over at Wanda then back at me. “We have pizza…?”

“Why do I smell cigarette in your hair young lady?” She asked, nervously I shrugged and went back to the counter where my pizza was sitting. “No. Why do I smell cigarette in your hair?” I shrugged again and took a bite of my pizza, knowing it was fruitless to lie to them, but I still didn’t want to admit it to her.

“Natasha what are you talking about?” Wanda said, making her way over to me and placing a kiss on my head before she stopped and sniffed my hair as well. I knew I had forgotten to spray something, my hair. “You do smell like cigarette smoke. Why?” Wanda said, making me put down my piece of pizza.

I shrugged again but stopped when I heard a cough from beside me. “No lies. Truth. Now.” Instead of taking that properly, my whole body felt like an instant reaction to Wanda’s words, and I immediately went into defense.

“Why should I tell you the truth?” I snapped standing up. I pushed past the redhead on my left and found my way up the stairs and into my room. “FRIDAY, keep my door locked, no one can enter, not even Wanda and Natasha.”  I opened my window and grabbed my cigarettes, quickly pulling one out and lighting it. I took a few puffs, tears falling down my face. “Why the fuck would they want to keep me now? You’re fucking stupid Molchalin. Why would they want to keep you now?”

My door was kicked open and, in the wake, stood my redhead mother looking at me with nothing but concern and worry. “Why did you run off detka? Why did you lock yourself in?” She said running towards me, ignoring the currently lit cigarette in my hands, and pulling me into her arms. I felt the cigarette get taken out of my hand and I instinctively wrapped my arms around Natasha, small sniffles coming out.

“I’m sorry mama! I’m sorry!” I cried out looking up at her. She shushed me, tucking a piece of red hair behind my ear and pulled me into her again. Rubbing my back to calm me down. “I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry I smoked!”

“No more tears malyshka.” Wanda said pulling me into her arms next.

“We just want to know if you plan on continuing to smoke or if you want to stop. We would really like to help you stop. Youre so young detka.” Natasha said, sitting on my bed, prompting wanda and myself to sit next to her.

“It’s calming… it makes me feel serene… something I don’t get very often.” I mumbled, picking at my fingers, being held in my mothers arms. “It was more often from when you guys ignored me… it was easier to just feel spacey then deal with what I really felt on the inside.”

“From now on, when you feel the need to smoke, why don’t you come to one of us?” Wanda suggested, running her fingers through my hair. “You come to us and we talk about why you might be feeling that way rather than smoking and ruining your body hmm?” I looked up at her, eyes wide and full of fear.

“What if I’m not sure why I feel that way?” I mumbled looking back down at my fingers. “Sometimes I feel feelings, I don’t understand and its just easier to float away than feel them…”

“Well momma and I were talking on the flight back and we thought about maybe putting you in therapy… we all had to do it when we first got out of wherever we got out of and since your now in our care, we think it would be very helpful.” Natasha said braiding my hair in small sections. I shrugged holding the teddy they had recently gotten me, tightly in my arms.

“Its scary…”

“But it will be easier with us on your side. Now, movie and cuddles? I can go get the pizza and some snacks?” I immediately perked up when mama mentioned movie and cuddles and nodded my head quickly.

“Yes please!”

Taglist:

@asiangmrchk13 @boredandneedfanfics @mythixmagic @natashamaximoff-69 @grim-trans-witch

[mattsturniolosmuse]

Talk To Me

Johnny Cade x Fem! Reader

Summary: You've been dating Johnny for 3 months. You've never talked in front of the gang; you are selectively mute. You hate talking, you're scared people will judge you based off of what you say. One day, you're sticking up for yourself and Johnny, and hearing your voice turns him on. Turns out you are a lot louder than you give up to be.

Warnings: Smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), sub! reader, dom! johnny, unprotected sex, dirty talk, use of pet names

"What do you guys think?" Darry asks the gang, following his question of 'what icecream should we get for Ponyboy's birthday?'

Most of the gang replied with chocolate. When it came to you, you shrugged.

"That's alright, angel, just point to the colour." Johnny says, grabbing some crayons off of the kitchen counter. You point at the pink one.

"Strawberry?" He asks. You nod. The votes came out as 5 for chocolate and 2 for strawberry.

"I'm going to take a smoke." Johnny says, stepping outside. You follow him, grabbing the cigarette out of his hand that he offered you. He lights it.

"How you been doin?" Johnny asks you. You nod in response.

"Good? That's good." Johnny says, pausing.

"You can talk to me. I won't judge you, I promise." He says, looking at you wearily. You shake your head.

"No? That's ok." He says, dissapointed.

"I'll bet your voice is really pretty." He says, stomping out his cigarette.

You shake your head again. It ain't.

"Want to go to Dairy Queen?" Johnny asks you. You get up, signalling that you would like him to. He locks his fingers with yours. He admires your face. He's always loved it.

Your e/c eyes that were so full of fear, but lit up whenever someone talked about something you enjoyed. Your cheeks were always rosy, especially when it was cold. Your lips were often coated in your favourite lip gloss; an orange flavour. He found himself thinking about your lips. About how he had never heard a word fall out of them.

"You're so pretty, angel." Johnny says to you, squeezing your hand. You blush.

The roar of an engine cracks Johnny out of his fantasizing about you. He looks behind him, and turning the corner, is a blue mustang. His heart starts hammering in his chest. He grips your hand tighter.

"So, uh- how was your day?" He asks, realizing you haven't noticed the mustang, and not wanting to scare you.

You shrug. The mustang speeds up.

"Sorry, angel, but we gotta run." Johnny says, dragging you with him. You guys try to outrun the vehicle, but, it being a vehicle, it was impossible. You trip on a rock and fall.

"Angel. Fuck. I'm sorry." Johnny says as one of the soc's grab his arm, the other one grabbing yours.

"Hey, pretty girl. I've seen you around school. You know who I am?" The soc asks you, scraping hair out of your face with his blade. Tears are silently pouring down your face as you shake your head.

"Leave her alone, man, please." Johnny says, struggling to get the words out with a blade to his own throat.

"Come on, pretty girl. Talk. I know you can." The soc says into your ear, squeezing your thigh gently.

No. No, no no. You think to yourself.

"Fine. If you won't talk, we'll take it out on your boyfriend here." The soc says, and Johnny got a punch to the stomach. More tears splash onto your face.

"NO! STOP! LEAVE HIM ALONE!" You scream. The soc is so surprised, he let's go of your arm.

"Angel..." Johnny says, looking up at you in shock.

"Come on guys, let's get out of here." The soc says, and him and his buddies pile back into the car and drive away.

You look back to Johnny. He's on the floor, propped up on his elbows.

You grab his hand and stand him up. "Let's go back." You say.

Johnny is suddenly aware of the tent in his pants. He'd never here you speak a word out of those pretty lips, and it made him crazy.

"Yeah. Ok." Johnny says, limping beside you, still in shock.

>>>><<<<

"What happened?"

"Are you OK, Johnnycakes?"

"Why is he limping, Y/N?"

These were some of the questions that were fired at you when you got back to the Curtis house. You shrug. Johnny heads upstairs, and you sit on the couch.

You are munching (sorry) on popcorn, when Johnny calls to you.

"Hey, angel, can you come here a sec?" Johnny asks you. You get up, placing the popcorn bowl down on the coffee table.

You enter the guest room, closing the door behind you, and Johnny is sitting on the bed, shirtless. A bruise had begun on his side.

You sit beside him and place your hand on the bruise, your other hand cupping his cheek.

"I'm glad you talked." Johnny whispers, his eyes flicking towards your lips then back up to your eyes. You smile, kissing him gently. The whole motion sent fireworks going off inside your stomach. His lips were soft; and they tasted like cigarettes and vanilla.

Johnny gently places you down on the bed, crawling over you, your lips not leaving eachothers.

Johnny tilts his head to deepen the kiss, and you feel a wet spot growing in your panties as Johnny's knee rubs against your crotch. You whimper quietly as you feel Johnny's tongue brush your lower lip.

You open your mouth, and Johnny's tongue clashes against yours. Johnny moans at the contact, and he slides his hands down your waist and into your shirt.

He begins to squeeze your chest gently, fondling the nipples in between his fingers.

"J-johnny..." You moan. You saying Johnny's name just turned him on more.

"I need you, angel." Johnny says, pulling away from you, his lust clouded eyes piercing into yours. You nod, pulling his black shirt over his head. He kisses you again, and you mess up his hair with your hand. Your other hand trails his stomach, over his slight abs and chest.

Johnny removes your jean jacket and the top underneath, and you unclasp your bra. Johnny groans and stares at you. You blush, averting his eyes, but he grabs your chin and makes you look at him.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, baby." Johnny says, attaching his lips to your left breast while kneading the other. You moan loudly.

He leaves gentle kisses all the way down to your black jeans. He looks up at you for permission, and you nod.

He unbuttons them, sliding them down your legs along with your panties. Johnny bites his lip at the sight of your pussy, his cock throbbing. Your pussy was dripping into the mattress, and he tried so hard to stop himself from rutting into the mattress. He wanted to save himself for you.

He places a gentle kiss to your clit, and your let out a small moan, tangling your hands in Johnny's hair as he flattens his tongue against your pussy.

"Johnny!" You moan out, causing him to go faster. He flicks his tongue in and out of your hole, licking up all of your slick.

"You taste so good, baby." Johnny moans against your clit. It sends vibrations through you, and you throw your head back. The knot in your stomach tightens.

"Johnny, close." You moan, blushing. Johnny pushes his face further into you as you release. His face is dripping with what was a mixture of your slick, cum and his saliva. The sight made you wet all over again.

Johnny wipes his face off with a blanket, and cowers over you again, kissing you gently. You can taste yourself on his tongue.

"Ready? If you want me to stop, just squeeze my hand, and I'll pull out." Johnny says, lacing his fingers with yours. You nod.

He pushes his tip in, and you throw your head back. You squeeze your eyes shut from pain and pleasure. Johnny bottoms out, and begins to thrust in and out of you slowly. You tried to keep your moans in, but it was impossible.

Johnny buries his face in your neck, kissing and sucking hickeys into the skin.

"J-johnny..." You moan, clenching around him. He picks up his pace, his hips pistoning into you at an alarming rate. The only sounds that can be heard are skin clapping and moans that fell from Johnny's mouth and occasionally yours.

"Baby, you feel so good. So tight." Johnny says, kissing you on the lips. His tongue finds yours immediately and you bite it. Johnny groans.

"Close." You moan, clenching down on him.

"Yeah. Come on. Come on my dick, baby. Show me how good I make you feel." Johnny says, bringing you closer to release. You never thought you'd ever hear those words come out of him.

You cum around him, and he thrusts a few more times before pulling out and releasing on your stomach.

"God. I love you, angel." Johnny says, trying to catch his breath.

"Me too." You whisper. You hear a knock on the door, and Johnny scrambles to grab a blanket to cover you.

"Y-yes?" Johnny calls. The door opens and Dally steps into the room.

"You know, if y'all are gonna fuck, find a place that maybe doesn't have 6 other people in it." He says with a smirk. You blush, hiding in Johnny's neck.

This was so much fun to write! Thank you to the anon who requested it. Keep the requests coming!

[murciafire]

Lady Lazarus

Jason Todd Angst

Summary: “You don’t get to die and be reborn the same. You come back, but you come back wrong. This is the price you pay for resurrection” – Nathaniel Orion

Warnings: angst, the poem is about Plath's attempts but nothing explicit

Words: >1000

Notes: The thought of Jason dying and then being resurrected often led me to think of “Lady Lazarus” by Sylvia Plath. I find that it’s even more appropriate considering that Jason’s died twice now (1988, 2024 – please let me know if I have it wrong). Since we all know that Jason reads classics, I felt that his thoughts might as well be as dramatic and poetic as seen in classic lit.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I have done it again.

There was a chipped tile in the corner of the wall where it met the smooth surface of the bathtub. My eyes would always catch it on the days I found myself lying in the bathtub, but it was so indiscernible that I didn’t think anyone else would remark it. (Not that I would care if anyone did, nor did anyone visit me, nor did I want anyone to). It was like a scar hidden under a chin that wouldn’t be evident until you tilted your face to where God should be (but perhaps in His absence, you could stare at the sun and the rays would make the sliver of cut skin silver, brilliant and hideous).

But such a break, where it was so insignificant, would bother no one unless you knew where to look for such fractures. And I, being that I am, often find myself wandering in an agonizing game of self-loathing where I’m drawn to discovering broken things like me. Which is why I think—and when I do think these thoughts, they’re often coupled with a heaving dry chuckle—I must cover the bathroom mirror. This game, or perhaps self-torment, is one that I often lose even when I win.

I put out my cigarette on the side of the tub—I had forgotten I had lit it. My nerves were so frayed that I didn’t think nicotine could absolve me any more than drowning myself in this bathtub hoping that a self-made baptism could bring me any closer to my father. I sighed, closing my eyes while dropping the crumpled cigarette on the floor beside me. My heart beat steadily in my chest, but I was already limp like I had given up. I felt a smile curl my lips into something cruel because here I was, in rose water which I wasn’t holy enough for, but damned enough that I was swimming in my own blood.

The bathroom, I thought, was a state of purgatory where all my thoughts merged into a state of expiatory purification.  Because I was alive and somehow—“One year in every ten I manage it—”

I groaned as my bones creaked and my muscles strained as I leaned over to pull the stopper. My eyes fixated on the swirling water, taking my blood with it. I blinked a few times, looking at my hands, no longer stained but very still. As if silence was a word to describe a motion—I wasn’t sure I was breathing. But I was.

And again I find myself moving, peeling myself off the floor of the tub, stepping over the edge. A sort of walking miracle, my skin bright as a Nazi lampshade, my right foot a paperweight.

I stood in front of the mirror and in my hesitancy, I found some courage, or as if reality took form and guided my hand to rip off the towel I hung over it, so I had to face what I saw in that tile: something broken. My face a featureless, fine Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin, O my enemy. Do I terrify?—

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth? The sour breath will vanish in a day. Soon, soon the flesh the grave cave ate will be at home on me.

I smiled, my laugh hollow as I wiped my face, continuing to recite Plath. “And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty and like the cat, I have nine times to die.”

I tossed the towel onto a hook on the wall before gripping the sink to stare at myself. “This is Number Three. What a trash to annihilate each decade. What a million filaments. The peanut-crunching crowd shoves in to see them unwrap me hand and foot—the big strip tease. Gentlemen, ladies—” I pushed off the sink, throwing my hands over my face. “These are my hands. My knees. I may be skin and bone, nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.”

I slid down to my knees, my chest heaving. “The first time it happened I was ten. It was an accident. The second time I meant to last it out and not come back at all. I rocked shut as a seashell. They had to call and call and pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.”

I shut my eyes, feeling my body crumple to the floor and curl into itself. Silence, I decided, was a word to describe action. Because here I was, living silently.

“Dying,” I whispered, “is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I’ve a call.”

 

I rubbed my arm with my hand, my fingers brushing over scars—new and old. My body was littered with wounds, but no one could ever see the scar under my chin. Or perhaps, the one I wanted most to notice was the crack in my heart that shattered my soul.

“It’s easy enough to do it in a cell,” I muttered. “It’s easy enough to do it and stay put. It’s the theatrical. Comeback in broad day to the same place, the same face, the same brute amused shout: ‘A miracle!’”

I laughed or cried; I wasn’t sure. But air came out of my lungs and clawed at my throat to make some sort of sound so I knew I was still here, lying on the bathroom floor very much still alive. But it’s a miracle that I am, isn’t it?  That knocks me out.

There is charge. For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge. For the hearing of my heart—

It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge for a word or a touch or a bit of blood or a piece of my hair or my clothes.   So, so, Herr Doktor. So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus, I am your valuable, the pure gold baby that melts to a shriek. I turn and burn. Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash—

You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there—

A cake of soap, a wedding ring, a gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer  

Beware

Beware.

Out of the ash I rise with my red hair and I eat men like air.

[cstlez]

can u do smoking with bill fluff plz? if not it’s fine !! :3

yes ofcccc

sorry abt the wait !

enjoy :3

———

SWEET

warnings! : fluff, use of y/n, strong language, and smoking

;

This is getting out of hand.

You stared at the clock on the wall, practically hearing the ticks back to back in your mind, you wanted to practice, and you wanted to pay attention to Bill, you cared about what he had to say.

If anything, you listened to him over anyone.

You rubbed yours eyes, burying your face under your arms and hair. The clock got louder, and you grew more bored, tired and anxious.

“y/n..y/n..y/n?”

You groaned in frustration, pushing your chair out, everyone’s expression changed, shock plastered across their faces, Tom raised a brow,

“Jesus you’re a mess.”

Your eyelid twitched, and you rubbed your temples, letting out a shaken sigh.

“god, ‘kay i’m done, im taking a smoke break.”

“Jesus y/n, you take one every hour!”

You scoffed, walking out of the studio and out into the hall, you rummaged into your pockets, pulling out your pack of camels in your right pocket, you walked outside, rubbing your hands together.

You could see your breath in the air, the cold easing your mind already, you rummaged into your left pocket, your lighter flipping in between your fingers when you clasped it.

You swallowed dryly, pulling out a cigarette from the pack, carefully bringing it to your lips, your hands jittered slightly, bringing the lighter to the cigarette,

“Need help?”

You jumped slightly, his sudden appearance not being one you were expecting, but you weren’t complaining. You sighed, removing the unlit cigarette from your mouth.

“Bill.”

You let out a sigh of relief, His body inching towards you, he extended his hand out, stealing the cigarette away, you sighed, slumping onto the floor against the wall, you could hear Bill’s gentle grin, his warmth engulfed you in seconds,

He kissed your cheek, taking the lighter from you, he lit the cigarette momentarily, inhaling it before releasing the smoke, he handed you the cigarette, in which you took eagerly, the moment the smoke left your lips you were overcome with ease.

“Are you okay now?”

“Mhmm”

You took another inhale of smoke, blowing it back out into the air, you looked at Bill, his gentle smile made you blush, he cupped your cheek, gently rubbing your face with his thumb, his nails tickling you, you giggled quietly,

“Why are you so stressed baby?”

You kissed his thumb, pulling away to take another breath of smoke. Bill waited patiently, rubbing your shoulder, he snuggled beside you, kissing your forehead, you smiled, handing him the cigarette, and he took it from you, blowing smoke out into the air.

“I’m just tired, I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

Bill nodded, kissing your cheek, he held you hand your fingers interlocking with his, his warm hand mixing with your cold hand making you smile, he kissed the tip of your pinky, taking another drag of the cigarette, he handed it to you, the smoke blowing into the air.

You took another drag, looking at him from the corner of your eye. You blew the smoke off into the air, admiring every last detail about him.

“Stay with me tonight, I’ll make sure your roommate doesn’t keep you up any longer.”

You smiled, he remembered the numerous times you had complained about how obnoxiously loud your roommate was, You nodded, beaming eagerly.

“Thank you.”

He nodded, smiling at you, he admired you, you smiled as he kissed the tip of your pinky yet again, he looked at you through his eyelashes, leaning against you to kiss you.

His lips always felt perfect within yours, his lips tasted the same as yours, it was comforting, even overwhelming, but in a good way, he was gentle, and careful as he squeezed your hand tighter, and your stomach flipped, happiness overcoming you as you were yet again reminded that this boy was yours, and that you were his.

[httpskuzuu]

Smoke

Yandere!Chuuya x Reader

English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes

tw: kidnapping, yandere, suicidal thoughts, nsfw thoughts¿ (Idk what to say to that, it's just a phrase really), smoking mentions (reader and chuuya), mentions of: broken bones and punishment

You were on the balcony, sitting on the floor while your legs slipped through the bars of the railing.

You take a puff on the cigarette held between your fingers. It wouldn't be the first time you thought about throwing yourself off, it would be a quick way to get away from Chuuya, but you really didn't want to die, you just wanted to escape the obsession that man had for you.

You tried to escape before, but Chuuya always managed to come after you. The first time he let you pass, the second time he broke your legs with the help of his skill, and the third time he hit you so hard that you ended up fainting. He was ignoring you until the pain was so unbearable that you had to beg for forgiveness.

Death was your only way out, and yet you refused to die. The idea that being with Chuuya wasn't so bad always helped you: he was respectful and, despite his bad temper, he never laid a hand on you except when you ran away. Besides, he bought every single thing you wanted, although it cost a bit to get him to buy you the clothes you liked, let's say that Chuuya didn't like the idea of you dressing like a vagabond, but he accepted it in the end.

If you simply forgot that you were kidnapped and that Chuuya has an unhealthy obsession with you, you could get used to living like this.

You took another puff on your cigarette. Your gaze fell on the people walking down the street, all with normal, free lives. You doubted any of them had a mobster obsessed with them.

Nights like these reminded you that you couldn't get used to living like this.

The faces of your friends and family would never leave your mind.

The reminder of the pain Chuuya gave you for just wanting to be free would always be there.

Another puff. The door behind you opens and abruptly pulls you out of your thoughts.

There's Chuuya, looking at you. You hadn't heard him enter the house.

"There you are, I couldn't find you anywhere." He approached you, you just gave him a smile and tried to make it look as real as possible. "What are you doing sitting on the floor?"

"It's comfortable." You said as you shrugged and looked back towards the street. You took another puff on your cigarette. "Will you sit with me?"

It was never that bad to share time with Chuuya, he was a nice man and, if you ignored all the bad stuff, you liked him, in a uniquely platonic way.

That was the main problem, that you could only see him in a platonic way and he could not. That's why you stayed away from him: it's awkward to remain friends with someone who has probably thought about fucking you more than once.

Chuuya sat down next to you and took out a pack of cigars. "And here I was wondering why my cigars were disappearing." He looked momentarily at the lit cigar in your hand and then took one out of the pack, put it to his lips and with a lighter lit it. "You could have asked me for it."

"That would be too boring, it was more exciting to be on a mission that you wouldn't find me out."

You looked sideways at him, as much as you only saw him as a friend, you couldn't deny how good he looked with a cigar on his lips. You asked yourself, without any shame, what it would be like to fuck him while he smoked... The idea wasn't bad at all.

You thought about the relationship escalating to friends with benefits wouldn't be bad, but if you did that he would think you loved him or something, and you honestly didn't want to go through the awkward conversation of "I know you love me, but I just want to fuck you, so…"

You don't know how much time you spent together on the balcony, smoking and in silence, but it was the most enjoyable time you could imagine.

[dandelions-143]

Games

Part of the Bad Boy Series

Part 2

Pairing: Jeongin x f!reader

Genre: smut and angst

Wk: 3277k

Warnings: Very very very mild Agonophilia, mild Ravishment, tiny bit of blood, cussing. Let me know if I missed anything

A/N: I hope this ones enjoyable. Let me know what you think! Reblogs are highly appreciated. Also tag list is open for any and all of these! Just comment or message me!

A/n: There will be more parts to this.

Masterlist

Jeongin Masterlist

“Oh don’t be such a pussy, Y/n.” Your best friend, Seungmin said as you stood at the entrance of an empty hotel. Hotel Athens had been a very popular place for the towns affluent and rich to congregate throughout the 19th century. But as the 20th century approached those same very rich and powerful people began to spend more time in the city. So the once very prominent Hotel Athens was now only just an empty building, left to rot holding only the ghosts of its past with in it.

So to find yourself standing at the entrance of such a place, it’s large metal gates that had once been chained now standing wide open like a gaping mouth ready to devour you.. this was not the way you had planned on spending your Saturday night.

You sighed and took your steps forward to follow Seungmin closely, “I’m not a pussy, I just have some sense about me.” You lightly smacked his shoulder and fell into a cautious step beside him. You and Seungmin had been best friends since grade school. He the quiet type, preferring books and video games over people and you the feisty loner preferring anything else over people were a friendship made in heaven. That is until you went off to college in the city and he stayed within the confines of the small town you once called home.

Seungmin had conned you into a night out with him and his new found friends, promising a marathon of your favorite 80’s slasher movies if you would attend this very stupid game of hide and seek.

You had heard a great deal about these new people Seungmin was hanging out with and none of it was good. You even knew a few of them, only because they were in the same graduating class as you. They were all sons of the filthy rich in town. People you had no interest in whatsoever, just bored rich kids doing as they please.. no matter the consequences.

Seungmin handed you a small flashlight as he held open the heavy door that led into what used to be to be the lobby of this sprawling hotel. Time and neglect had obviously taken its toll on the place, dirt and grime covering the floor, spiderwebs hanging in various corners. Old furniture tattered and torn by animals you had assumed, and then there was the vandalism. Ugly words and pictures spray painted across the walls and windows.

“This place.. I’ve seen pictures of how it use to look when it was open and it use to be beautiful.. why would anyone want to mess that up?” You mumbled more to yourself than to your best friend who had his attention elsewhere. When he did not respond you cast your gaze in the direction he was suddenly headed.

In the middle of the lobby sat a very handsome man, a lit cigarette between his long slender fingers, a black hoodie covering him but you could make out a few small tattoos on his hand and fingers. You assumed that had to be one of Seungmins new friends. You were not enthused at all, so you stayed put by the entrance as you watched the two converse in a familiar way. As if they had known one another for ages.

Seungmin pointed in your direction and the man’s dark eyes shifted to you, they seemed to narrow even more as if he were assessing you. “Hey Y/n, come here!” Your best friend called and you huffed out an annoyed breath before slowly making your way over to them. “Jeongin, this is Y/n. My friend I told you about.” Jeongin let his eyes follow the lines of your body, as if he were a predator assessing his prey for the night.

Before another word could be said loud laughter, yells, and footsteps began to echo through the pitch black halls. The only lights in the place were the battery generated ones that sat in the main lobby and the flashlights people had. “The fun’s about to start.” Jeongin finally spoke, his eyes staying only on you. You suddenly felt uncomfortable, your hands becoming clammy and fidgety under his intense gaze.

You grabbed Seungmins hand and yanked him from the couch pulling him away from Jeongin and the seven other men that seemed to descend from the darkness to gather around him. All in black clothing, holding what seemed to be masks. Some were tattooed and some were not. You recognized some of them, Chris and Minho, as well as Changbin. The others you had seen but didn’t know who they were exactly.

“I want to go home.” You stated in a low mumble to Seungmin, tugging at his shirt sleeve. “Oh come on, it will be fun. They told me it’s harmless and anyone can leave whenever they want to.” He placed a hand on your shoulder to ease your worries but you could still feel Jeongins heated haze on you. You opened your mouth to protest further but just then a loud clap and then Chris stepped forward his voice booming through the open space.

He was good looking as well.. in fact all of them were very handsome. Chris had a sleeveless black shirt on making sure to show off his toned arms that were covered in tattoos. The last time you saw him he didn’t have as many of them and he now had a shiny little nose piercing. You couldn’t deny that he looked good but, from what you knew of his family and the way he acted in school.. you wanted no part of him or his friends.

“We have a good turn out tonight it seems, thanks for coming. Now i would explain the rules but there are none.” He chuckled softly and so did a couple of the guys behind him. He sounded polite enough, harmless even but you knew better. “It’s simple, you all hide and we..” he gestures to himself and the guys behind him. “Seek.” A girl with short bleach blond hair spoke up, “and what happens when you catch us?”

Your eyes locked with Jeongins this time, as if a magnetic force kept pulling you towards him. Your eyes grew wide with a mix of fear and excitement as he pointed towards you and mouthed the word “Mine”.

Chris’s steady voice replied with a simple, “we do whatever we want with you, babe.” A sly smirk spread across his full lips, transforming his very handsome features into something more devilish, sinister. “Don’t worry we’ll give you all a head start.” Then as abruptly as he had started Chris yelled, “Lights off!” Just then all the lights except the remaining flashlights shut off and Let The Bodies Hit the floor began to blare from speakers in the room.

You couldn’t see two feet in front of your face, playful screams and running footsteps could be heard around you, fading into the darkness. Your heart beat loudly in your ears, fear consuming you at first, making it difficult to move your feet. You reached out for Seungmin but only found cold air, “Seungmin! Fuck.. you idiot, where are you!” Your calls for your best friend were unanswered.

Realizing the only way out of this stupid game was to get yourself out you began to move, turning on your flashlight helped. The couch that the men had been sitting on was now empty.. the word “mine” echoed throughout your head. He was probably just trying to scare you. You pushed through your muddied thoughts of Jeongin and made your way in what you thought was the direction of the main door.

Within minutes you knew you were wrong. It seemed to get darker the deeper into the building you went. The music faded a bit as your feet carried you on, hoping to find another way out. As you turned a corner, the light from your flashlight caught something. A figure leaned up against the wall, lit cigarette in hand. The person turned their face to you but it was covered with a black mask.

When he dropped his half smoked cigarette on the floor you bolted in the opposite direction. Hoping to lose him in the darkness. You found an open door and fled inside, shutting off your flashlight and pressing yourself between a naked mattress and a dresser, hoping to not be caught. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths as you tried to control your nerves.

It was only made worse when you heard the door shut and heavy boot clad footsteps drew closer to you. “Y/n, come out. I won’t hurt you.. I only want to play.” That voice.. metallic and smooth, you knew it was Jeongin and you covered your mouth with your trembling hand.

It was so dark in that room it seemed black. You could see him, only hear him moving around. You were certain he couldn’t see you and he would eventually get bored and move on.. that’s not what happened. Jeongins footsteps stopped right at your own feet. You could smell his cologne, a mix of spices and musk. “There you are, gorgeous.” He spoke tenderly but there was something else in his voice.. something dark.

A strong hand wrapped around your wrist and yanked you into him. You began to fight with everything you had in you. Pushing and shoving against him as much as you could. It only made him laugh and hold onto you tighter. The lingering smell of cigarette smoke mixed with Jeongins cologne as he moved his face closer to yours. “You’re a feisty little one aren’t you?” He breathed against your lips, only a whisper away from kissing you.

Even though you were fighting him off a part of you didn’t want his warmth gone. You anticipated what would come next.. it was a scary thrill..

“That’s it.” He cooed softly and walked you back towards the wall until you were firmly pressed against it. Jeongin pulled off his mask throwing it to the floor. “Are you going to be like all the others and let this happen?” He questioned. You didn’t know if he was actually asking you but, your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you thought it would beat right out of it.

Jeongin then pressed his warm lips to yours, kissing you deeply, possessively as if he owned you. Your knees weakened just a little and when he pulled away you felt yourself wanting those soft lips back on yours again. “Just like all the others.” He muttered before taking your lips hungrily, kissing you in a way no one had ever kissed you before. Greedily taking what he wanted.

His words did not sit well with you, just like the others? You thought to yourself and that’s when the fog was lifted from your haze just a little and you began to fight him again. You shoved him hard catching him off guard and making him stumble back a bit. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness well enough to make out a mischievous grin spread over his handsome features.

Jeongin seemed to enjoy the fact that you kept fighting him off. He came at you again, pressing his body into yours and gripping your wrists at your side so you couldn’t shove him anymore. His hungry lips found your neck, kissing and sucking at the tender skin there, even though the wetness between your thighs grew you kept trying your damndest to fight him off.

The odd thing was.. even though you kept fighting you never once used your voice to tell him to stop. At this point with his hard body pressed into yours. His hips now pressed into your spread legs.. did you even want him to stop?

The only sound that came from you was a gasp when you felt him bite down on your collarbone. It was a marvelous pain and you wanted more. Jeongin seemed to read your mind because he pulled you off the wall and shoved you hard onto the mattress. He stood over you for a moment, knowing he was the only one in control here no matter how hard you fought.

“Come here little one.. I’m not done playing yet.” His menacing voice lingered with your heavy breathing as he removed his belt fluidly with one hand before coming down on top of your body. You were covered in sweat and even though you wouldn’t admit it.. you craved to have your clothes off.. body pressed to his again. You wanted to see if he had more tattoos than just the ones on his hand.

Even though your body was reacting to him in the most feral way you kept moving, pushing him off, wiggling away from his grip. You were not going to make this easy for him. You turned your head to either side as he tried to kiss you again and when he did finally catch your lips you allowed him to kiss you. His hips bucking up into yours. Pressing his very prominent erection against your clothed cunt.

The friction was not enough, you wanted more. You seemed to be just a greedy as he was. Your lips kissing back furiously, wet tongues colliding with one another as you both wrestled for dominance. “Ahh, fuck!” Jeongin pulled back and you could taste a metallic tinge on your tongue.

You had bit him and you bit him hard, he hovered over you, out of breath and staring at you, taken back by your actions. “What, you can’t handle a little blood?” You asked, looking up at him defiantly.

That’s when something shifted in Jeongins eyes and he no longer held back. His large slender hands found the hem of your white T-shirt and ripped it off you exposing your heated skin to the cold, crisp air. You managed to tangle your fingers in his hair and you pulled hard making his head snap back before his lips could touch you.

The cruel bastard only smiled in the most sadistic manner before he forcefully pulled your hands back, caging you against the mattress and held you in place. He was no longer playing by the way he held you easily with one hand and the other yanked at your jeans, successfully pulling them down, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties.

“Be a good slut and let me look at you, little one.” Jeongins eyes roamed over your body but, you were hell bent on defying him. He was not going to win. This seemed to only amuse him as you thrashed beneath him. You never screamed though, never told him to stop. It was a very dangerous push and pull between you two in this moment.

Jeongins heated lips found yours in a wet, sloppy kiss. You didn’t know when he had time to free his hard cock but, you could now feel it

slide up your inner thigh and your body responded with a slight thrust of your hips. You hated it and loved it at the same time. The feel of him on top of you, his heat between your legs starting a fire in you that you let burn freely.

You could still taste the salty blood on his lips as you kissed him as if your life depended on it. Jeongins hand tightened on your wrists so he could push your panties to the side with his free one. They were soaked with your juices and he smiled against your lips knowing he was the reason behind it. “So fucking sexy and all mine.”

That’s when you felt him push into you, fast and hard. Greedily taking exactly what he wanted. No condom, nothing between you two. For the first time you made a sound, crying out as his length stretched you, an exquisite pain as he pulled out and slammed back into you.

You bucked your hips not knowing if you were still fighting him or seeking more of that lovely pain. His eyes watched your face twist in beautiful agony, his breath fanning over your swollen lips as he fucked you hard.

“Let me hear you, little one. Scream for me.” He mumbled against your lips. Your mouth wide open and eyes closed as you arched your back, pressing your stomach against his… you trying to calm the burn inside your body, that string pulling tight in your lower abdomen.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you cum.. or making you scream for him. His hands let go of your wrists only to hold your hips down in place on the mattress so he could fuck you as hard as he wanted. His balls slapping against you as he drove into you bottoming out over and over again.

Your juices making it so easy for him to slip into you, filling you up so well. You couldn’t help it , your body was reacting to his and the way he stared at you drove you insane, watching each expression move across your pretty face. “Fuck!.. Jeomgin!” you cried out as your legs began to shake and you gripped at his back pulling him closer to you. You tried so hard to hold on to your orgasm and not let him win. Within seconds you were moaning as that delicious feeling took over you, and your walls squeezed right around Jeongins thick cock. Orgasm was long and the best you had felt in so long.

His moans were just as loud as your cries and just when you thought he was about to explode Jeongin pulled out of you spurting his hot seed all over your lower stomach and red sensitive pussy.

You lay there trying to catch your breath and he sat back looking at you. Not a word being uttered between you two until he slowly stood and pulled his pants back up. Jeongin pulled off his shirt and dropped it on your chest. “Clean yourself.” He then leaned down, kissed your lips one last time, “Thanks little one.” He whispered before heading for the door.

You sat up instantly covering yourself, “That’s it?!” You asked incredulously. “You fuck me then bolt!” He stopped and stood in the doorway pulling out a cigarette and putting it between his swollen and bitten lips, “That’s it for now.. but don’t forget, little one. You’re mine.”

With a cocky grin that spread across his face making him look like a little boy he winked at you and was gone.

You got dressed and slowly stood on shaky legs all the whole cursing him and yourself for letting him do those things to you and knowing deep down you liked it. “Y/n! There you are.” Seungmins familiar voice filled the room making you jump a little. “What happened to you?” He stepped closer and pushed back a few strands of your hair that had fallen in your face.

“What do you mean? I’m fine.” You swatted his hands away and began to walk towards the door. “You have marks on your neck and face.” You touched your face only then noticing the marks on your wrists. “I’m fine, Jesus stop being so nosy. I’m ready to go home.” Your best friend gave a weary look. He obviously didn’t believe you but he didn’t question you anymore. He took you home and all the while you were seething with anger and hurt.

The only comforting thought.. you would probably never see Jeongin again.. or so you thought.

Tags: @moonndustx

[wcters]

𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 𝗕𝗘 (𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨)

pairing: joe liebgott x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k+

summary: four times you question what you two are and the one time you finally figure it out

warnings/notes: established relationships, angst (were dealing with war), kissing, pda, some drug use (cigarettes), alcohol, swearing, weapons, violence | no disrespect to the actual veterans or any of the situations described and written here, this is based on the series and the character of joe liebgott. somewhat ib @softguarnere (if you would like me to change it/take it down i will. it’s not really similar but still). if anyone has any tips for writing for band of brothers, please let me know! longest imagine written so far, and a dedication to my boys skip and penkala

You never knew home could be a person . . . until you joined the army and were surrounded by it, by many different people, and the one person you trusted most ━━ Joseph Liebgott. It was unexpected. To outsiders, they wouldn’t even think you two would speak ━━ let alone be friends. Yes, both of you are different in many ways, but you’re also the same in many ways. Skip Muck, one of your other close friends in Easy Company, joked that part of your souls were intertwined and you two would eventually fall in love. In the beginning, you would laugh it off. But you soon realized how true that was.

1. 1942, TOCCOA, GEORGIA

The army was ruthless. You knew that it would be when you joined Easy Company a couple months earlier, but you didn’t expect it to be this bad . . . only because of a certain officer named Sobel. You swear he had it out for all of you, and lots of the men hadn’t done anything bad ━━ that you knew of. Most of the time your weekend passes were revoked for little things such as some dirt on your gun and a stray string (that wasn’t actually there, you checked multiple times), but this weeked you and Joe were lucky to still have yours. You don’t even know how you both managed that, let alone him.

You two were walking hand in hand down the dimly lit street. You were quietly humming a song as you looked at the various stores as you made your way to one of the bars your group frequented. A few other army guys could be seen walking with each other or a local girl hanging on their arm. On any other night you would’ve looked like any other soldier in the soft lights, but you had switched out your uniform for a dress you had hidden in your barracks. You had thought ‘why not? It’ll probably be the last time I get a chance to wear it’ and threw it on with some heels you borrowed from a girl you knew in town with a promise to return them.

The quietness of the street got smaller and smaller as you made you got closer to the bar. “Crowded tonight, huh?” The man beside spoke out loud, swinging your clasped hands. “I think to us it does, but to them it doesn’t.” You joked while letting out a chuckle. Joe did too before grabbing the door of the bar and opening it for you. You mumbled a “thank you” while music filled your ears. “I’ll find us a seat, you get us drinks.” You told Joe as he nodded and you went to search for a booth.

It wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, and soon enough you and Joe were chatting and laughing while couples danced around you. Joe looked around as you sipped your beer before he got up out of the booth and lent out a hand to you. “Would you like to dance?” He smiled. You laughed before looking around. “Why not?” You agreed and got up, making your way to the dance floor as a slow song began to play.

While leaned your head on his chest as you danced with couples around you, you couldn’t help but wonder what you two were.

2. 1943, BROOKLYN NAVAL SHIPYARD, NEW YORK

The heat of the boat taking you to England was suffocating with all of the soldiers packed in it, but Joe managed to have an arm around you waist while you two were playing cards with Muck and Bill. You were just an observer, butting out after the third game and got lost every one.

“Jesus Bill! You must be cheating!” Joe yelled as the brunette man placed another card down, Muck agreeing sourly. You laughed at that while stealing the cigarette out of Joe’s mouth and taking a hit. “You’re just sorry losers.” Bill laughed at their faces. “You don’t get to laugh y/n, you quit because you kept losing.” Skip pointed at you as he saw your face. “At least I accepted defeat, asshole.” You could feel the small laugh that came out of Joe’s chest and imagined the smirk that was on his face. “She got you there, Skip.”

They continued playing for a little while, you and Joe taking turns smoking until Bill won again and Skip slammed his cards down onto the cot. “Calm down.” You told him, soft smile on your face. “I am calm, it’s just Bill keeps winning and it’s fucking hot in here,” the man gestured to the people around you,” I don’t know how you two are that close. I swear I’m going to die of overheating and you two are practically cuddling.” You made a face to your friend while Joe laughed and made a comment that you couldn’t hear.

You and Joe were really close, you basically almost on his lap at this point, but you had a reason. The boat was packed, not being much room to move around. You didn’t want to climb up all the way onto your cot, and you wanted to keep talking with your friends. Plus, you and him had to be close ━━ you were sharing a cigarette. “We’re sharing a cigarette.” You shrugged, grabbing the object out of his mouth as he yelled a “hey” as you took it. Skip gave you a look as if to say “that’s bullshit” and got up, going to find Penkala. You looked over to Bill and he looked down at his cards, smirk on his face.

You had a reason to be that close . . . right? Or was it something different?

3. 1944, NORMANDY, FRANCE

The gravel crunched underneath your boots. You had just landed somewhere in Normandy ━━ you weren’t sure, you had missed your DZ ━━ and were now on the lookout to hopefully find Easy Company and not some German looking to end your life. That’s why you had you gun aimed into the distance. Every little breeze that shook the branches had yoy freezing up and darting you eyes, only to figure out it was the wind or some rabbit that looked as scared as you. It made you feel a little less alone.

When another bush shook, this time a little longer than usual, you crouched instead of just freezing up, gun still trained to where the sound was coming from. You waited before slowly moving forward, trying to minimize the sound of the road beneath you. You saw the bottom of a pair of boots and it seemed you were both waiting for the other to speak first. That decision was chosen for you.

“Flash.” “Thunder.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you heard that and then saw the multiple pairs of boots. “Y/n?” Someone called out within the group. You squinted trying to see who it was. “Bill!” You exclaimed in surprise before recognizing the few other people with him: Marlarkey, Wynn, Toye, Lipton, some people from the 82nd Airborne, and Hall, a man not from your company but you recognized him from Able Company. You quietly said your greetings before continuing on your way to try and find your rallying point.

After finding and following a set a train tracks, a situation happened where Bill shot before Winter’s Command, you reprimanding him again and jokingly pushing his head as he called you a “stupid mick” which you laughed at. Now the group was on the road to the rallying point. The whole time you had been thinking about Joe. God, you wished he was still alive. You didn’t know what you were going to do if he wasn’t. When you eventually got to the farm, you heard a familiar voice. You stopped as you saw each other before you began to run and give him a hug.

You could hear the mumblings of the other soldiers, but at that moment, you didn’t care. When you pulled away you grabbed his face. “Joeseph Liebgott, I would’ve killed you if you died.” You laughed with tears in your eyes as you checked him for and scratches and scars. “I wouldn’t dream of it doll.” He laughed too before pulling you back in.

You decided at that moment in time that it didn’t care what you two were, as long as you had him, you didn’t care. As long as you knew he was okay.

4. 1944, ARDENNES FOREST, BELGIUM

All you could see was white: the sky, the ground, even the trees that surrounded you, that partly acted as a wall. You were sick of it. You think you would feel this way for the rest of your life ━━ the look and feel of the freezing chill of the snow and forest. Maybe you would move to somewhere warmer, somewhere where it doesn’t snow and the lowest it would get would be 59 degrees Fahrenheit.

Imagining what you would do in the future always helped you get somewhat through the hard times, though a person was the one thing that was a blanket to you. He had told you he left to talk to Lipton, but he hadn’t been back for awhile.

As if the world hated you having a small moment of what little peace you could have, a light broke through the white sky. A yell of “incoming!” from someone near you, either Skip or Penkala, caused you to sink further into your foxhole, well what you could, and cover your ears as the bombing started. When you heard yelling with words like “c’mon!” and “hurry!” you looked up to see Skip and Penkala yelling out to Luz who was out in the open. “Luz!” You yelled to him, “get over here! It’s closer!” He followed your voice and jumped in, but as soon as you both turned around you saw Skip and Penkala get hit with a shell. You knew they didn’t make it.

It was over as soon as it happened, but you were so distracted with what had happened that you didn’t feel the burning on your side until George had asked you if you were okay. You groaned when you first felt the searing pain and lifted up your coat to see the blood soaking it. “Oh, shit. Medic!” You had been with a piece of flying shrapnel from the shell that hit the two. You didn’t have time to register how one of your best friends were killed before Doc Roe was at your side with Luz holding you so you wouldn’t move too much. “Christ, y/n.” Gene mumbled as he got a look at it before grabbing a bandage and wrapping it the best he could.

You were frozen now ━━ not from the cold, or the wound on your side that would cause you to get taken off, you were frozen with the realization of what just happened. You wanted to cry, scream, do anything, but you just . . . couldn’t. Everything around you was fuzzy and you didn’t register that the shelling stopped and you were being taken out until you saw Joe. Then, tears managed to fall and you started to sob. He was mumbling about how you were going to be okay and everything was fine as he followed you to the Jeep.

When you felt the rumble of the Jeep engine, you grabbed Joe’s hand as tight as you could. “I love you, you shithead.” You laughed as you told him. You didn’t know whether you would see him again, and you wanted him to know how you truly felt about him, and how much he ment to you. He froze for a second before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too. I’ll kill you if you die.”

You laughed one more time as the image of him started to get smaller and smaller as he let go of your hand, slapped the Jeep, and it started to move. You tried to memorize what you could see: his shadow, the way he stands . . . him. You closed your eyes and felt a tear make its way down your face, settling in with the other dry ones.

+1. 1945, BAVARIA, AUSTRIA

The almost-healed wound on your side was a reminder of what you’ve been through, and what you’d missed. You’d been stuck in the hospital since mid December. You attempted to go AWOL multiple times, but you had failed every time.

Your shrapnel scar had ended being worse than Doc Roe thought and you had to be transported to surgery. When you woke up and heard what happened, you immediately wanted to go back and find your company . . . and Joe. You knew you left on a weird note, and wanted to figure it out. That was looming on your mind, along with the grief you finally had time to face. Not really face, more like confront. It was one of the only things you thought about while in there. You hadn’t fully come to terms with it, but you had made some progress.

You had thought about how George was doing, and especially Malarkey. He was Skip and Penkala’s best friend ━━ you were a close second. Bastogne was a horrible place in itself, but having to deal with that while there, to you, was a death wish. You were worried for everyone, the people you left behind.

You had just gotten to Bavaria when you saw Colonel Sink, and he saw you. As one of the very few women in the army, you could say he had a soft spot for you (though you would never say it to his face). You had been told a very uninformative idea of where the airborne was located, but you had been wandering since you got dropped off.

“Sergeant y/n, is that you?” Sink had called out to you as the car stopped. You saluted before you replied with a “yes sir.” “You lookin’ for Easy soldier?” You answered with a yes and conversed for a little bit ━━ mostly about your time in the hospital and what you missed ━━ before he invited you into the Jeep to get a ride up the mountain that looked over you.

That’s where you were know as you made your way up the hill, the familiar rumble of the Jeep underneath you. You couldn’t deny the feeling of excitement and happiness in your stomach as you got closer. You soon heard voices over the engine and on the horizon silhouettes appeared. When the car stopped, you gave a quick thank you, saluted, and made your way to where some of Easy was sitting.

“Having fun without me?” You asked out loud as people turned to you. There were calls of excitement as they saw you and people made their way to greet you, but one of the faces you were looking for was Joe. You eventually saw him getting up from sitting in front of a wheel and you both made eye contact before people split and let there be a clear path to him. You didn’t have to say anything to let him know you were running towards him before jumping on him and giving him a hug. He held you right, as if you were going to leave again, and spinned you around as you both laughed.

He was still holding you, arms around your waist, but had let your feet touch the floor. “Hi.” You smiled. “Hey doll.” Those were the only things said before you lips crashed together and there were cheers from your friends around you. When you parted, your foreheads fell against each other. “I was so worried, I was afraid you weren’t going to come back.” He admitted. “You can’t get rid of me that easy Joe.” You joked before kissing him quickly again and then went on a mission to find Malarkey.

He was leaning against the side of a car, cigarette in his hand. You gave him a tight hug, saying everything you needed to but couldn’t, before parting. You sat and talked while Joe kept a close eye on you.

“Skip was right, y’know.” Malarkey said as he let out some smoke. “What do you mean?” You asked, looking at everyone and the view. “About you and Joe. How your souls are intertwined. I always laughed at it but seeing you two now, he was right.” You blushed and looked down before your eyes met Joe’s and he winked at you.

“I guess so. But hey, never doubt Skip. He always said that. Guess this is a nice payback.” “Guess so.”

You never thought a person could be home, but as you walk in front of the fireplace, your baby girl in your arms, you realize that it could be ━━ that it is. And you are ever so thankful you figured out what you two were.