#i like him cynical from the jump

[zmediaoutlet]

abandoned(?) wip: the cult fic

Here's one that I really really really want to write because it was for a charity run and it is NOT the fault of the fic or the donator that I got hit with a depression meteor, nor indeed that somehow it was 'easier' to write a bunch of other fics instead of the charity fics that I still owe!! Ugh. The self is a real garbage pit sometimes. So hopefully let's call this one dormant and not abandoned, and so --

Big Idea: which isn't mine, bc charity fic as aforementioned, but -- Jared runs a cult and Jensen joins and there's lots of sexy sex. Pretty much. :) But because it's a cult fic, I really wanted to dive into that, which required plot [spits on floor], and it's really more now about like... lost youth getting wrapped up into a personality & lifestyle just for somewhere to belong. Like cult stories always go. It's an unusual fic for me in that I'd normally never do ageswap (even with J2 -- I prefer to keep them as is) and I don't actually have much interest in irl cults, but it's interesting as a stretch in that sense.

Why it was abandoned: because plot!!! Ugh. Plot is the worst, idk how people are like 'ooh I wanna get all involved in this murder mystery'. Yack. But if it's gonna have a plot it's got to work, and it also has to have a bunch of legible and interesting and not-quirky-stand-in characters -- like I want it to read like actual humans, not goofy nonsense a la the cult in Bad Times at the El Royale. So that requires some genuine thought and time put in and probably even a chart, and... #lazy writer noises. But I have some random scenes I think might be good already planned. Trouble would be if I could make Jared-the-cult-leader seem believable and not just like a doofy romance novel figure. My personal trouble with cults is that whenever someone's holding themselves up as a leader because of whatever mystical whatever I'm like, this motherfucker? Are y'all kidding? So I'll have to get over that instinct, lol.

Snippet:

"He renamed it when we came," Allie says, easy. She taps her thumb on the steering wheel, smiling. "He said Wildheart was more right, for what we were going to be." Jensen nods but he has no idea what that means. Whatever the name was before, the wild part at least is right. His grandpa had a farm, outside Dallas, and that was all neat rows, trimmed up hedges, smoothed-out roads with everything exactly in place. Jensen didn't mind it—driving it was easier, he thinks, as they're jolted by the Volkswagen rocking over yet another huge tree root—but it was… Well, it doesn't matter. He'll never see that farm again. He's about to ask another question when Allie turns, again, and the screen of oaks gives sudden way to—open air, a field. The sky opens up above them and Jensen leans forward, trying to see everything. They're on a dirt drive and there are—people, young, maybe his age or maybe Allie's, on the grounds on either side of the drive, working squared-off garden plots—tomatoes, in chickenwire cages. More that Jensen doesn't recognize as they roll past. A boy with red hair waves at the car and Allie waves back, grinning. "Good to be home," she says, to Jensen. Home, Jensen thinks, and chews his thumbnail, scanning the grounds. A medium-sized house, at the end of the lane, painted a faded yellow that needs redoing. On the west side of the house Allie pulls the Volkswagen up next to a purple Gremlin with messy handpainted yellow flowers on the rear hatch, a Cadillac with a rusted-out door and some kind of viney plant spilling out of the broken back window. "C'mon," Allie says, turning off the engine, so Jensen takes a deep breath and gets out of the car into the sunshine, holding his duffle up against his chest, looking around. No one's running up to bug them—the dozen people gardening are still gardening, down by the lane—and Allie flips her keys into her palm, comes around the hood of the car, touches his arm, soft. "Nothing be scared of, sweetie," she says, quiet even though it's just the two of them, and Jensen—believes her. He has to. He wouldn't have gotten into her car, otherwise.

#my writing #abandoned wips #jensen the naif is also not something i'd usually write #i like him cynical from the jump #maybe the thing here is to lean into him being cynical #but so lonely and frightened that the cult thing just... #drags him under #like the tide pulling sand from under your feet #hm that might help

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. No matter how hard he tried.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with comfort! call back to some scenes from part three, crying, hugs, kisses, slight toxic themes, lovesick!alastor, happy ending, different pov's and scene jumps are separated by the boarders to make it easier to follow!

☒ Word Count: 2,672

You stumbled back to your room with an uneasy feeling pooling in your gut. Alastor wasn't a man who portrayed such extreme emotions the way he just did right before your very eyes. The sight of his smile melting off his face felt immoral. 

Your mind lamented with turmoil. 

Everything Alastor said to you was outlandish, far-fetched. Yet he spoke with such conviction, such desperation. 

This man was nothing more than a stranger to you, yet some of the things he recounted filled in those blanks you harbored through life and death.

You had been drawn to Alastor's voice since day one. Something about him did feel... nostalgic.  

And when you danced, it was effortless.

But could that just be chalked up to a coincidence?

You shook your head to rid yourself of those pestering contemplations. There was no point in dwelling on it now. At the end of the day, Alastor was a ruthless overlord. He wasn't capable of love. 

Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. 

No matter how hard he tried.

And after the show he put on only moments ago... you felt more terrified of him than ever before. 

There is nothing more merciless than a man crazy in love.

Alastor stayed up all night mulling over all that transpired. He thought and thought and thought until his mind went numb.

What could he do to make you remember him?

It's not like he could leap back to earth circa 1933 with you and retrace your steps. That world he knew was long gone. 

Love is patient but waits for no one. 

Alastor lifted himself off the carpet on shaky legs. He haphazardly smoothed out his coat and tidied his bowtie. His shadows enveloped him within a moment, ferrying him to the bar located in the foyer. 

Husk jumped when he heard the radio warble in Alastor's voice. Demanding a tall glass of rye. The fluffy fellow knew better than to involve himself in Alastor's business. Husk poured his boss a fine glass of whiskey before turning his back. Continuing to scrub the pile-up of glasses. 

"Husker. Let's say you wanted somebody to remember something that was once near and dear to their heart. What do you presume would be the best possible antidote to bringing that fond memory back to life?"

Husk turned to face Alastor hesitantly. Taking note of the empty glass sitting in front of The Radio Demon. "Well, shit, I don't really know about that," Husk paused, refilling his Boss' glass. "I mean if I were the one who forgot, I guess a solid reminder of that missing somethin' would get the gears turnin'." 

Alastor's gaze was pointed, crimson eyes swirling with a sadness Husk had never seen from the feared demon. Husk cleared his throat before adding, "Like a photo or... an heirloom? Get what I mean?" 

Husk watched as Alastor's shoulders rose from their slumped position. His cynical grin morphed into something sharper, and his eyes now had that familiar gleam of assuredness. "Husker, my good man! You're not as witless as I thought. Thanks for the perspicuity and rye!" And just like that, The Radio Demon was gone. Whisked away by those ghastly shadows of his. 

Husk wasn't sure what he just unlocked for that evil man, but he hoped that whatever it was, it didn't involve him.

Husker's words replayed in Alastor's mind.

"A photo or... an heirloom?"

Husker, you mindless genius.

Alastor knew now what the key to unlocking your memories would be. 

And it was in the shape of a heart, threaded on a silver chain with a photo of him and yourself nestled inside.

The locket he gifted you for your one-month anniversary. The treasure that was wrongfully swiped by that bitch, Elaine. 

It was the catalyst for your first murder. The reason you probably sunk to hell, to begin with.

Alastor had no doubt that Elaine burned in hell along with the rest of them. She was a wretched wrongdoer. Now all he needed to do was locate her. 

Alastor had his fair share of connections in hell. One simple lift of his cane and the miserable sinners were coughing up information. A timid soul mumbled about hearing of an Elaine that fit Alastor's description. Fearfully pointing The Radio Demon in the right direction. 

Alastor chuckled to himself when he realized Elaine was shacked up at Valentino's studio— of all places. He recalls you telling him how Elaine boasted about one day becoming a picture star. 

Guess that little dream of hers came true in the most unconventional fashion. 

Alastor grimaced as the smell of sex and booze wafted past him the moment he stepped foot in the studio. Most of the bystanders turned to get a good look at The Radio Demon. Their pitiful faces were riddled with fear and awe. Probably wondering what an overlord like him was doing in a place like this. 

Alastor scanned the room begrundgly. Scrunching his nose in displeasure from the lewd displays surrounding him. Suddenly, a blonde broad caught his attention. She was sitting across the room, smoking a cigarette in her delicates. Presumably waiting til her shoot began. 

Her features were pouty and more pig than woman, but he was most certain that she was Elaine. 

Alastor approached her without hesitation, slamming his cane harshly against the dirtied floor to grab her attention. "Elaine! Oh, how unpleasant it is to see you again!" Alastor's voice was laced with faux excitement. He crossed an arm behind his back, puffing out his chest with pride. The surly woman glared at him while taking a drag of her cig. "Who the fuck are you?" 

Alastor placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "How could you forget the face of the man who corroborated your murder? I know you weren't always the brightest bulb in the box, but I mean, come on now, Elaine..." Alastor clicked his tongue in disapproval, relishing in the fear cascading over her face.

"Look, I don't want no trouble, mister." Elaine flicked her cigarette to the side, not caring where it landed, before putting her hands in front of her chest. Her own way of waving the white flag. "Well, that's great news! Because nor do I! However, I do want my darling's locket back."

Alastor's voice became low at the end of his sentence as his irises morphed into radio dials. Elaine leaned back in her chair, trembling like a leaf, as she brought her shaky hands up to her neck. She looped her fingers around the chain adorning her throat, untucking the locket from her delicates. Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of his beloved's heirloom in the hands of this wretch. 

"Look, I didn't mean anything by it when I swiped it from your little princess. I was just jealous, alright? Now, just— take it and go!" She tugged at the chain, breaking the locket off her neck before shoving it in front of herself. Dangling it right before Alastor's very eyes.

Alastor studied the piece of precious metal before flickering his gaze back to the cowering woman. "Tell me this, Elaine. Why did you keep the locket all this time, going so far as to bring it to hell with you after death?" Elaine looked taken aback by the inquiry. She scoffed, face turning red. 

"I wanted her life, okay? She had everything I wanted. The beauty, the brains, the beau. I knew if I had this locket and had it on me always, your little princess wouldn't have been able to find it if she went snooping through my things. If I couldn't have her life— then I had to have something of hers. Something that I knew would devastate her if she lost it." Alastor let out a wicked chuckle from Elaine's confession. He swiped the locket out of her grubby paws. 

"Elaine, you... could never be her. And you are quite lucky that I have better things to do today than waste another second on you. If that wasn't the case, I would have taken great pleasure in killing you myself this time." Alastor turned on his heel, shooting her a hostile glare from over his shoulder before taking his leave. 

"Bye-bye now, Elaine! Glad to see your aspirations of becoming a picture star finally came to fruition for you. Ha HA!"

The atmosphere in the room shifted the second Alastor stepped past the Hotel threshold. You were at the bar with Angel, having a well-needed drink, when a commotion at the front doors stole your attention. You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you turned your head in his direction. Already dizzy enough from the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream.

Alastor lit up when your eyes met his. He rushed over to the bar, wasting no time placing his hands on the stool you were perched on. He spun your chair, forcing you to face him, smiling with more excitement than you'd ever seen from him. "Alastor- what the fuck are you doing?" 

You peered up at him, eyebrows knit in annoyance from how he rudely pulled you away from the drink you were nursing. Alastor fell to his knees and leaned forward, face only centimeters from yours. "On our one-month anniversary, I gave you a locket..." Alastor's voice was laced with merriment, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Not this again- Alastor, please! Give it up." You pleaded, not noticing how Angel and Husk began to back away from the scene. Not wanting any involvement in this lover's quarrel. 

"But your bitch of a friend Elaine stole it from you, and you never ended up getting it back from her." You watched Alastor stuff a hand into his pocket, pulling out a shiny heart-shaped necklace. "So, I took matters into my own hands and got it back for you."

Alastor's free hand reached for yours. He flipped your palm to face the ceiling before placing the locket in your hand. You examined the piece of jewelry carefully, lifting it closer to your face to get a better view. "Open it." Alastor sounded positively impatient with excitement.

You gave him a weary look before thumbing over the clasp that kept the two metal hearts conjoined. You opened it slowly, and your breath hitched from what the tiny heirloom revealed.

It was a photo of a man and a woman. They appeared to be dancing in the photo. Limbs intertwined, both smiling from ear to ear. 

You weren't sure why, but the photo made your heart stutter. And the longer you stared into this moment forever captured in time, the blurrier it appeared. 

The feeling of Alastor's thumbs swiping along your cheeks broke you from your daze on the aged sentimental photo. He cooed at you, with much gentleness pooling in his crimson orbs.

Oh... you were crying? 

Alastor slowly took the locket from your grasp. You watched him expectantly as his hands reached beyond your shoulders, delicately wrapping the chain around your neck. Alastor skillfully clasped the necklace shut, restoring it to its rightful place against your sternum. 

The moment Alastor secured the clasp, you felt a surge of euphoria. A vermillion aura surrounded you, and your heart began to pound fiercely against your ribcage, echoing in your ears. That hole you had in your center for all these years began to flood.

You were motionless as your eyelids fluttered shut. In your mind, your life began to play out before you; like one of those old-timey picture shows. 

Moments from when you were alive and well flickered in your subconscious. All the pleasant memories and promises for the future were with him; With Alastor. 

In a wink, it all came back to you. Every touch, every laugh, every dance- every kiss. A groove in your heart that was wholly irreplaceable; you finally felt it again. 

The tears continued to trickle past your lashline as the sequence of core memories coursed through your head. Distantly, you could hear that familiar radio static hum. 

Your eyes flickered wildly back and forth behind your closed lids as your personalized picture show slowly came to an end. As you flitted yourself back into reality, the radio static warble grew louder. Overpowering the sound of your heartbeat; that thumped in your ears. Unhurriedly, your eyelids fluttered open.

Your world was smiling at you, and you smiled right back. 

"Hi..." You muttered weakly, laughing through the quiet sobs. Alastor continued to thumb away your tears. Crimson orbs softened as they met yours.

"Hello, my darling." His voice sounded better than it did moments before he bestowed the locked upon you. But maybe that's because you finally knew why his voice reminded you of home. 

It was because Alastor was your home.

"You waited for me all this time? Even after I was so cruel to you- why?" You brought your hands up, cupping his cheeks with care. The feeling of his cold skin underneath your fingertips was electrifying. Your body and mind had been deprived of him for far too long; each touch pleasantly overwhelmed your senses.

"Because, my dear, you are everything to me. I would have waited a century more for you if need be. Your cruel behavior only ignited my desire to reclaim your memories further. Nothing you do could ever make me stop loving you."

A lump formed in your throat from his admission. He spoke with such devotion. Alastor gazed at you; as if you hung the stars in the midnight sky. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sliding yourself off the bar stool. Opting to find comfort beneath Alastor's embrace.

He wasted no time pulling you into his chest, cradling you in his arms as your knees collided with the floor. Alastor nestled his nose into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his smile against your skin. "Oh, how good it is to be home." He mumbled against the base of your throat. 

You pulled back to admire his countenance, arms still weaved around his shoulders. Alastor's eyes flickered from yours to your lips. You took the hint, bearing the initiative in closing the gap. You felt heat surge through your chest when your lips touched his. Alastor's mouth moved in tandem with yours. The kiss was tender and needy; as if it was the first and last embrace you ever shared. 

Alastor's hands explored lower. Large palms smoothing down the sides of your arms, then your waist. Only pausing in his exploration when his hands met your hips. Alastor squeezed them firmly, pulling your body flush against his as he deepened the kiss. Your body felt light and airy, and it wasn't from the alcohol you indulged in tonight. 

The kiss felt like it lasted for an eternity. You only pulled away from your lover when your lungs began to scream for air. "I'll never let you out of my grasp ever again. I plan to keep you close for the rest of eternity. Just as I planned all along, my darling." Your heart lodged itself in your throat from his words. You nodded fervently in agreement as a chuckle escaped you.

"I'll hold you to it, my love." Alastor's grin softened the longer he gazed into your eyes. Slowly, he rose to his feet, lifting you to yours by the grasp he had on your hips. You let out a gasp as Alastor hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He held you bridal-style, making quick strides through the foyer and up the stairs. 

"Al! What are you doing?" You giggled, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he skipped two steps at a time, all thanks to his long legs. You admired his visage from this angle, enjoying the cheerful glint that swirled in his eyes. "Taking us somewhere more private, darling. We have a lot of lost time to make up for!"

yall want smut for the next part or..............

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz @fokrilove @yourdoorisunlocked @willowshadenox @izakyun @fangirlbitch02 @kyana-chan @aquariaries @sincerely-lorely @maxlynn17 @ivebeenthearchersstuff @kurinhimenezu @memospacexx @night-shadowblood-writes2 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @uhhhimbored @chaotic-smol @shoyosdoll @alitaar @resident-cryptid @nijiru @sunshinesetsstuff @toby33b @th3casscad3

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #alastor angst #alastor fluff #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fluff

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Humphrey Bogart (Casablanca, Key Largo, Sabrina)—John Huston speaking at Bogart's funeral: "Himself, he never took his work too seriously. He regarded the somewhat gaudy figure of Bogart, the star, with an amused cynicism; Bogart, the actor, he held in deep respect … In each of the fountains at Versailles there is a pike which keeps all the carp active; otherwise they would grow over-fat and die. Bogie took rare delight in performing a similar duty in the fountains of Hollywood. Yet his victims seldom bore him any malice, and when they did, not for long. His shafts were fashioned only to stick into the outer layer of complacency, and not to penetrate through to the regions of the spirit where real injuries are done … He is quite irreplaceable. There will never be another like him."

Buster Keaton (The General, The Navigator, Sherlock Jr.)—For me Buster’s hotness comes not just from his physical beauty but in the constant surprise and contradictions of the man, he’s simultaneously delicate/rough, feminine/masculine, confident/vulnerable, 5foot5 pretty face with an unexpectedly deep voice, at first glance you think oh he’s a cute little thing and then he takes his top off and it’s Superman abs underneath. He was intensely shy in social situations but had no hesitation in jumping off the top of a building. He famously never smiled on screen* but he exudes warmth and joy and laughter. He created some of the most beautiful, intelligent movies ever made but refused to acknowledge his own genius and talent as an artist, instead maintaining that all he wanted to do was make people laugh. If he was here in reality competing in this poll he would give it 100% but he would not be at all bothered if he didn’t win. And that’s why he’s the hottest vintage man. A vote for Buster is a vote for all that is good and decent in the world 💕 (*he did smile on camera occasionally despite his own assertions to the contrary 😄)

This is round 3 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[enormous amounts of additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Humphrey Bogart propaganda:

Bogart on why he became an actor: "I was born to be indolent and this was the softest of rackets."

Bogart about his wife Methot [who later divorced him]: "I like a jealous wife ... I wouldn't give you two cents for a dame without a temper."

Bogart, on why he was one of the only cast members filming African Queen to avoid catching dysentery: "All I ate was baked beans, canned asparagus and Scotch Whiskey. Whenever a fly bit me, it dropped dead."

Bogart's advice to a recently-nominated friend on how to write an acceptance speech for an oscar: "Just say you did it all yourself and don't thank anyone."

"the way he looks at Lauren Bacall……"

Buster Keaton propaganda:

"Just look at his freaking face...."

This entire Tumblr page was submitted

This post

This video

"And for those who have never heard it, here’s his lovely voice in action: link"

Submitted: Link to Buster Keaton car stunts

Submitted: BK fancam

Submitted: quotes about BK video compilation

"Ripped body, gorgeous unique face, beautiful personality too"

#buster keaton #humphrey bogart #round 3 #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old man #Youtube

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 12. the trial pt.1

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Madeline preps you for the first day of the trial and shares a surprise witness being called to Patrick's defense, and Patrick requests to speak to you unexpectedly.

Chapter Warnings: language, smut (MDNI 18+), phone sex, m and f masturbation, dirty talk, mother issues (could be perceived as parental emotional abuse, and probably is), possessive!joel, recounting of previous DV and SA

WC: 7.2K

A/N: If anything in this chapter jumps out as you like 'I don't think that's how the law works', just move past it. I had Google and a dream.

Series Masterlist

The flickering florescent lights from the grocery store were starting to give you a headache as you slowly made your way up and down the aisles, occasionally stopping to grab a bag of chips or some mac and cheese. It was late. The store was quiet. You were supposed to be buying things to keep in your hotel room when you got to Austin, but you could hardly focus. You had the weekend to pack, buy supplies, and check into your room before meeting with Madeline on Monday. She was planning on using most of the day to prepare you for the trial, which was scheduled to start first thing Tuesday morning, and your nerves were a mess. And to make matters worse, Joel wouldn't be able to get to Austin until the morning of the trial.

The one silver lining was your divorce. Madeline felt confident after speaking to his lawyer that Patrick would be signing the papers this week. The cynical part of you wondered if there was a catch because Patrick was never one to take things lying down, but you tried to push it out of your mind. Instead, you focused on the variety of microwavable popcorn in front of you. Butter, lightly salted, movie theater... would you even notice much of a difference? You stepped forward to grab the first box you saw when another person unexpectedly walked right into you. You had been so lost in your own thoughts, you didn't even hear someone else coming down the aisle.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you began. When you looked up to meet their eyes, the polite smile you had forced across your face immediately fell.

"Nikki, hi," you said, taking a small step back towards your cart. "My fault, I wasn't paying attention."

She tossed you a thin smile and not so subtly eyed you up and down.

"Haven't seen you in a while. Read anything good recently?" she asked icily, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"Not really. I haven't had much time," you told her, averting your gaze down the empty aisle.

"Oh, that's right. I heard you're getting a divorce," she said with a little pout, and you nodded as the heat began to creep up your chest. "Gotta make sure all those papers are signed before you go jumping into someone else's bed, right?"

"Excuse me?" you sputtered, lips parting in surprise. You thought she would have been a little more subtle than that.

"I hope you at least made sure he was worth it before leaving your husband for him, because woman to woman, I gotta warn you... it's nothing to write home about," she told you with a wink. You frowned and took another step back.

"I'm not leaving my husband because of Joel-"

"Oh, no, of course not!" she said cheerily.

"N-no, really, nothing's going on-"

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me," she whispered, giving you one more fake smile before turning on her heel and waltzing down the aisle, leaving you in shock.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered to yourself as you absentmindedly rubbed your eyes. Angrily, you reached out and snatched the box of popcorn before turning your cart in the opposite direction.

You hated the idea of someone in this small town having it out for you. She had been swaying the entire female population to turn on you just because she went on a couple dates with Joel and she figured out he had feelings for you, which was hardly your fault. But you thanked your lucky stars she didn't seem to know just how close you and Joel really were, because if she did, there was no doubt in your mind she would have spread that news like wildfire.

Impulsivity won and you swung your cart down the candy aisle, throwing far too many items into your basket.

To hell with Nikki. She had no idea what you were going through and you didn't have time for her high-school bullshit, so you forced yourself to move past it. Besides, you had much more important things to worry about. Like if you should buy Reese's or Snickers.

"I hate all my clothes."

"C'mon, they can't be that bad," Joel's voice filtered through your phone. You tapped the speakerphone button and dropped it onto your bed in order to free up both your hands, then held up two ugly blouses against your chest while you looked in the mirror.

"They really are," you told him, scrunching up your nose. "But Madeline told me if I wore stuff like this, it would look more sympathetic to a jury. Like I'm some poor, modest housewife in need of saving," you said with a roll of your eyes.

"Well, if Maddy told you to wear somethin' specific, you should listen to her. She knows what she's doin'. I've known her a long time, this isn't her first rodeo."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," you grumbled, picking up a couple of skirts that, in your opinion, were far too long and didn't make you feel very confident.

"You look beautiful in anything," he said, his voice dropping an octave lower.

"Thanks, but you're biased," you teased, and you heard a soft chuckle float through the speaker.

"Yeah, maybe," he agreed. There was a small pause as you continued to sift through your clothes, then he asked, "are you tryin' anythin' on right now?"

"No, once at the store was plenty," you huffed, then began folding the skirts up to place them in the bottom of your suitcase.

There was another pause before he spoke again.

"Then what are you wearin'?"

Your hands stilled and you sucked in a breath when you finally realized what he had been hinting at the past few minutes. Glancing down, you grimaced at your favorite pair of stained sweatpants and a tank top that had fraying straps, but you refused to throw it away because it made you feel skinny.

"A tank top," you finally answered, leaving out the part about your ratty old sweatpants.

"Mm, the white one?"

"Yes," you replied, your pulse already thrumming steadily in your throat at the line of questioning.

"Wish I was there with you," he said, his voice low just in case Sarah could hear from her bedroom. "I can see right through that top, drives me fuckin' crazy."

Glancing in the mirror, you realized he was right. You could see the outline of your nipples clear as day in the right lighting.

"Joel, is this a good idea?" you asked, but found yourself flopping down on your bed anyway next to your phone, your fingers dancing at your waistband.

"You're stressed, right?" he asked, his voice a little breathless now and you knew he must have been stroking himself. You've done this dance too many times.

"Yes," you whispered.

"Lemme help you relax, then."

You chewed on your lower lip as you stared up at your ceiling. You knew doing this with him complicated things and you were supposed to be able to take the stand in a few days and honestly say you weren't in a relationship with Joel, but the lines were too blurred and at this point, you had no idea how you would answer that question.

Then again, what difference would one more time make?

"Okay."

"Good girl," he murmured, and you felt yourself flutter at the praise. "Where are you right now?"

"I'm laying in bed," you told him, closing your eyes so you could focus just on his voice.

"And are you touchin' yourself?"

"No," you said, taking a deep breath. "But I want to." You heard him utter a soft groan.

"Go ahead. Just one finger and I want you to tell me how wet you are."

Slipping your hand under your waistband, you did as you were told, choosing the tip of your middle finger to slide through your folds and prod gently at your entrance.

"So wet," you murmured, then teased yourself again, collecting the arousal pooling there. "All wet because of you, Joel," you added breathily.

"Fuck, I wish I was there," he whispered again, and you slowly pushed your middle finger inside with a moan.

"W-what would you do?" you stammered as you felt the tension begin to build, a warm heat sparking low in your belly.

"I'd taste you first," he said lowly. "Only got to do it once, been dreamin' of doin' it again. You taste so fuckin' good, d'ya know that?" His accent deepened the more aroused he became, and it made your heart skip a beat.

"You're really good at it," you mumbled into the phone, your finger curling inside you, that one spot just out of reach.

"Tell me how much you liked it," he rasped, and a little groan slipped past your lips, your finger still pumping in and out.

"Loved it," you moaned, and you heard his heavy breathing now as he listened to you intently. "F-felt so good. God, that tongue... my thighs burned the next day from your beard. Felt it all night at work... thought about you s-so much. Fuck, Joel, I need more," you whined, your back arching pathetically.

"Add another finger and play with your clit, baby," he whispered, and you thought you could hear him fucking his fist on the other end, but his heavy pants drowned out the noise. You did as he said, gasping in relief at the extra stimulation while your legs began to shake.

"Joel-" you whimpered, but he cut you off.

"When this is all over, I'm gonna wake you up every mornin' with my mouth between your legs," he said with a grunt. "Would'ya like that? Hm? You want my tongue inside that tight little pussy? Want me to suck on your clit til you can't remember your name?"

"Oh, fuck, Joel, I-I think I'm gonna come," you cried out softly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your finger rubbed fast little circles over your clit, your hips rocking against the heel of your hand as you chased your release.

"Go ahead, lemme hear you. Say my name, baby," he panted, his voice cracking, and you knew he was close. "Tell me - shit - tell me I'm the only man who's ever made you come."

And you did just that.

You fell over the edge, his name tumbling from your mouth over and over as you soaked your own hand, and once you got your bearings, you moaned about how good he made you feel, how no one else could ever compare, how you couldn't wait until he was in your bed again because your own fingers no longer satisfied you now that you've had him. You kept talking until you heard a sharp intake of breath and a low, muffled groan on the other end of the line, leaving each of you quietly panting for air.

"Feel better?" he asked after a few minutes, and even though he couldn't see you, you smirked.

"Yes," you whispered. You could hear him shifting around in his bed, his sheets bunching up and the springs on his mattress squeaked. "I miss you," you added sadly, thinking about the one night you got to sleep in his bed. How comfortable you felt. How at ease it made you feel, and he wasn't even in the bed with you. Just being around him was all it took.

"Me, too. We're so close, baby. Just a few more days. A week, tops."

His words instilled a newfound vigor in you. The fear and anxiety you felt about the trial temporarily disappeared and instead, you felt powerful. In charge. Confident. And eager to take your life back.

Monday

"Have you heard from any of the other women?" you asked Madeline hopefully, and she gave you a quick shake of her head.

"Not yet. I'm sorry," she replied, knowing you were all crossing your fingers that some of the women Joel talked to in Philadelphia would change their minds and come forward, but as hard as he tried to convince them, they were all too scared to say something, putting you back at square one. He had high hopes for one girl in particular, Nina, but so far she had refused to answer his or Madeline's calls and time was running out. "Don't worry, hun. We still have all the evidence on our side. We have the medical records, I can prove years of abuse with that and testimony from the people you put us in contact with. I am confident we will win, regardless of the other victims," she told you, looking you dead in the eye, and you believed her.

"Okay," you replied, taking a deep breath and nodding your head. "And again, I'm sorry I couldn't get anywhere with my mom. Do you think we'll still do okay without her?"

Madeline sat back in her chair and slid her glasses off, holding them gently in her hands while giving you a look across her desk that made your stomach twist.

She had bad news.

"We would do just fine without her, but I found out this morning that she was subpoenaed by the defense."

You stared at her, not quite understanding what you were hearing.

"What does that mean?" you finally asked, and although you had an idea, you needed her to say it.

"She agreed to speak on Patrick's behalf."

Tears sprung up in your eyes but you quickly wiped them away, refusing to allow your mother to cause you any more pain. Before you could say anything, Madeline spoke up again.

"Don't let it upset you. They might think they're making a power move, but I'll destroy her on the stand, mark my words. It will only help our case and paint the picture of a lifetime of abuse," she told you, putting her glasses back on before looking back down at the file in front of her. You hadn't ever considered your relationship with your mother as abusive before. You just assumed most girls had problems with their mothers growing up. But if she was willing to help your husband over her own daughter, essentially supporting everything Patrick has done to you, then 'abusive' was really the only word you could use at that point to describe your relationship.

"Okay, what else," you asked hurriedly, looking down at your hands folded on your lap.

"Well since we are already on the shitty news portion of the day, I do have one more thing I need to mention, and before I tell you, just know you can do absolutely whatever you want, okay? Do not feel pressured to go through with it-"

"Just say it," you told her, and she took a brief pause before continuing.

"Patrick asked to speak to you before the trial. He's holding the divorce papers as a hostage. Says he will sign them if you speak to him."

Your eyes shot up to meet hers in shock.

That was not something you were expecting to hear.

"W-why would he want to talk to me?" you stammered, and you could feel your heart beginning to pound louder in your chest, the fear and anxiety quickly taking hold yet again, just like it always did when it came to Patrick.

"My guess? He probably wants to convince you to drop the charges in exchange for a divorce. And that is something we are not going to do, understand me?" Madeline said, narrowing her eyes at you. "If my hunch is correct, he's scared. He knows he's going to lose and he is desperate. We do not need him to play nice here. I can get a judge to grant an annulment if he won't sign, it will just prolong everything a little more, but the end result will be the same."

The idea of your divorce taking even longer made your blood boil. You wanted to be with Joel. You wanted this to be over. It was only supposed to be a few more days... a week, tops.

Madeline could tell you were spiraling because she put her pen down and stood up from her chair.

"You don't have to talk to him. You are under no obligation to hear him out. We can just go through with everything the way we planned-"

"I'll talk to him," you said quietly.

"I have to give you my honest opinion here. I don't think it's a good idea."

"I'm not going to drop the charges, but... I don't know. Maybe I can convince him this is over. And if not, I'll just get up and leave," you told her firmly, and she examined you carefully before sighing.

"Alright. I'll contact his attorney and set something up in the morning. If you change your mind, you let me know. Night or day, five minutes before you walk into that room, it doesn't matter, okay? You don't have to do this."

"I know," you said, "I want to."

Madeline spent the rest of the day briefing you on what to expect for the trial. After opening statements, Madeline would argue your case with the evidence she collected and the witnesses she subpoenaed, then Patrick's lawyer would have the opportunity to cross examine and afterwards, it would be their turn to defend Patrick with their own witnesses before closing statements and deliberation. Madeline guessed the whole thing would take two or three days at the most, and that gave you some relief. No matter what happened, this would be over by the end of the week.

"I'll call you to the stand last," Madeline said. "It's best if your testimony is freshest for the jury, especially right before the defense states their case."

"Okay. And what do I do when I'm up there? Should I look at the jury or the judge, or just you?"

"Look wherever you feel comfortable, but don't offer any extra information outside of the question being asked. We'll rehearse the questions I'm going to ask before you leave today, and when it comes time for the defense to cross examine, give as little information as possible. Yes or no answers. And they'll try to get you upset - don't let them. That's important, okay?"

"Yes," you said with a nod. "I understand."

After you ran through the questions, Madeline sent you back to your hotel room with the list for you to review and practice on your own, but your head was pounding by the end of the day. Your eyes burned and your mind was racing and all you wanted to do was sleep, but your body wouldn't let you. You ended up pacing around your room and trying not to let your anxiety about seeing Patrick in the morning torment you. You had just found a mindless cooking competition show to put on to help distract you when your phone pinged next to you on the nightstand.

Joel: All ready for tomorrow?

You: I think so, but I'm nervous. Can't sleep.

Pausing for a moment, you added another text.

You: I'm meeting with Patrick in the morning before it starts.

It took less than two minutes for your phone to ring.

"What d'you mean? Why're you meetin' with him?" Joel's voice asked aggressively the moment you answered the call.

"He's holding out signing the papers until he speaks to me," you explained. "He says he'll sign them if I talk to him. I figured there's no harm, he can't hurt me-"

"No harm?!" Joel exclaimed, and you quickly stopped talking. "All he does is harm! The fuck are you thinkin'?" he asked, sounding less angry and more upset now.

"Madeline said it'll take longer to get a divorce if he refuses to sign. I just want this over with, Joel!" you said, your voice beginning to break. "I don't want to wait a few more weeks or months. I'm fucking done! And if listening to whatever he has to say for twenty minutes gets him to sign the goddamn papers, then I'll do it! Because I can't do this anymore!" you sobbed into the phone, the tears you fought to hold back all day finally coming to the surface.

"Okay, okay, calm down," he said soothingly, and you took a few shaky breaths in. He waited until your breathing steadied before speaking again. "What time are you supposed to see him?"

"8:30," you said, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

"Alright, I'll be there," he said. "Just in case. I wanna be there."

"You can't come in the room with me, Joel."

"You can't go in alone," he argued.

"Madeline said the conference room they booked has a door with a window. You can both watch from the hall."

He grumbled to himself on the other end and you waited, chewing on your lower lip nervously, for him to say something.

"One wrong move and I'm puttin' his head through the fuckin' wall," he muttered.

"That wouldn't exactly help your lawsuit," you reminded him.

"You let me worry 'bout that," he said, and you yawned. He must have heard you because his voice softened. "You gotta get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

"I know," you replied, and although you felt like you wouldn't get much restful sleep, your eyelids were still getting heavy.

"I'll be there bright and early, alright? And I'm stayin' til it's over."

"What about Sarah?" you asked sleepily.

"She's stayin' at a friend's house. Couldn't be more excited about it. Practically kickin' me out," he said with a chuckle.

You laughed as you stared blankly at the TV, watching some poor girl cry when her crème brûlée burnt. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Joel bit his tongue on the other end of the call, holding back the words he really wanted to say but knew it wasn't the right time. Instead, he said "good night, baby. See you in the mornin'."

Tuesday

As expected, you tossed and turned all night. It was clear as day when you caught your reflection in the mirror and winced at what you saw. The bags under your bloodshot eyes wouldn't be tamed by the concealer Maria bought you so long ago, but you tried your best, anyway. After picking out the least ugly shirt and skirt combination, you made sure your hair looked decent before taking a deep breath and stepping out the door of your hotel room.

The first step towards your freedom.

You were proud of yourself. You had actually managed to not let the nerves get to you until you entered the courthouse and saw Madeline tapping away on her phone, wearing a dark blue pantsuit and hair pulled back in a simple bun, with a black leather suitcase hung over her shoulder. She looked up when she heard you approach, giving your outfit a nod of approval before enveloping you in a quick hug.

"You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," you said, giving her a nervous smile. Your hands were beginning to shake as she walked you down a secluded hallway towards the conference room she had booked for your conversation with Patrick. You could feel your chest tighten with every step you took, but when you turned the corner and saw Joel leaning up against the wall in a brown suit with another man you didn't recognize but assumed was Patrick's lawyer, you instantly felt relief. When his eyes locked with yours and he gave you a small smile, you felt even calmer.

You could do this.

"Last chance. Are you sure you want to do this?" Madeline said next to you. Glancing through the window in the door, you saw Patrick sitting at the table in a rumpled jumpsuit, his handcuffed arms resting on the table as he stared down as his fingernails. You nodded and looked at Patrick's lawyer.

"Does he have the divorce papers, or do you?"

The lawyer gave you a polite smile before replying "I do, miss."

You nodded before taking a deep breath, and glancing at Joel one more time to remind yourself why you were doing this, you twisted the doorknob and stepped into the room.

Patrick lifted his head up when you walked in and gave you half a smile, but you just shut the door behind you and walked to the other end of the table, as far away from him as you possibly could get, and sat down.

He stared down the table at you, giving you his most charming persona, the side he always brought out when he knew he had gone too far and wanted to make amends. You folded your hands calmly on the table and tilted your head to the side, waiting for him to speak. Minutes ticked by, inching closer and closer to your trial time as you waited, refusing to be the one who bent first.

"New clothes?" he finally asked, and you quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, looks like you got some new clothes, too."

You patted yourself on the back for the jab, but you didn't show a hint of the smugness you were feeling when you saw a quick scowl flit across his face.

"Alright," he said, leaning back in his hair and lifting his hands up in mock defeat. "You win."

"What did I win?" you said with a frown.

"This," he said, motioning between the two of you. "You want outta this so badly, fine. I'll sign the papers. I'll leave you alone."

"Great," you said, trying to keep the tremble from your voice.

"You gotta drop these charges, though, baby. This shit could get me killed, you know that?"

"Don't call me baby."

He sat forward suddenly, making you flinch. "What the hell do you want me to call you, then?"

You took a steadying breath and glanced at the door, catching Joel's eye before looking back at Patrick.

"I'm not dropping the charges."

He shrugged and dropped his hands loudly on the table. "Then I ain't signing the papers."

You looked at Joel again. His lips were pressed in a thin line as he watched the two of you and you wondered if he could hear anything through the door.

"What about the charges against Joel? Would you let it go and sign if I dropped the charges?" you asked quietly, and that caught Patrick's interest. He smirked and folded his hands on the table.

"Oh, no. Can't do that. I got your boyfriend right where I want him. Got a rockstar witness that'll help me take him for all he's got. Hope that kid of his is smart, she's gonna need to get a scholarship for college. Daddy ain't gonna have two dimes to rub together when I'm done with him."

Your jaw clenched and your nostrils flared as you stared at Patrick across the table, doing your best to rein in your anger and not say something stupid.

"You don't have shit against him," you spat, and true to form, he couldn't help himself. He just had to show his hand.

"Bullshit. Got that girl he was on a date with that night at the bar willing to testify he had it out for me, that he was obsessed with you and would do anything to get rid of me," he sneered, looking quite pleased with himself.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. You knew Nikki was pissed, but this was going too far.

"Then it doesn't sound like we have anything else to talk about," you said, standing up. You made your way to the door, passing by his chair, when he spoke once again.

"You're not gonna win, you know. They don't put cops in jail. Juries feel too guilty, knowing how dangerous it is."

You looked down at him, finally seeing him for who he really was: a pathetic, desperate, sad excuse for a man. No matter how long it took for Madeline to finalize your divorce, you would do it the right way. You've suffered for years, a few more months wouldn't kill you.

And then you would be free.

"Hope you're willing to bet your life on that," you said before turning on your heel and swinging open the door.

Joel was at your side in an instant, following you and Madeline down the corridor towards the courtroom.

"Do I even want to ask?" Madeline said over her shoulder.

"You were right. He wanted me to drop the charges in exchange for signing the papers," you told her, then glanced up at Joel by your side. "I said no. We're doing this the right way."

"Good," they both said at the same time. Your hand itched to reach out and hold his, but you knew you couldn't, so you settled for gently brushing your knuckles against the back of his hand and you saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

When you entered the courtroom, which was much smaller than you expected, your eyes immediately drifted around to the scattered few people seated in the spectator chairs. You had completely forgotten about your mother, and seeing her sitting there, on the other side of the room as your cousin, with her hair pulled back tightly and wearing a navy blue dress you hadn't seen before, sent you into shock. Fortunately, she stared straight ahead, avoiding your penetrating gaze, so you looked away and made eye contact with your cousin, who gave you a tight smile and a thumbs up.

Then you heard Joel suck in air next to you and you glanced up at him, following his gaze to Michelle, who was seated a few rows behind the plaintiff's table.

"What's she doing here?" you tried to mutter under your breath.

"Don't know," he replied quietly, turning his focus away from her.

Madeline swung open the doors for you to step through and take a seat behind the desk, where she joined you and began to open up her briefcase and spread out all her files on the table. Joel slid into the row of chairs right behind you, and if you took a deep breath, you could smell him. Gone was the putrid cologne, the only thing he ever had in common with Patrick besides his profession. All that you could smell was him. His natural, masculine scent mixed with a subtle hint of his deodorant and some hair product. A smell you had grown to love and crave.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, you noticed you had less than five minutes before the trial began. More people began to stream in. Witnesses on both sides, some you recognized and some you didn't. A few cops that you knew were close with Patrick on the force sat together in full regalia, no doubt trying to win favor with the jury with their choice in clothes, just like you.

You had a chance to look at Joel just one more time, one fleeting smile and wink from him before the doors swung open. Patrick and his lawyer marched up to their table, both of them avoiding looking in your direction as they got settled in just in time for the bailiff to announce for the room to rise, and moments later the judge and jury walked in.

You were holding up better than you expected. All of these months of preparation finally paid off. You were more confident after each witness Madeline brought up to the stand. She started with a couple old co-workers of yours, who didn't have much to say other than they had asked you a few times about your bruises and you had made up excuses, but they always suspected something else was going on. Patrick's lawyer stood up and objected when they hinted at your husband being the cause, and the judge agreed. Madeline backed off her line of questioning and once she was satisfied, announced no further questions before sitting down. Patrick's lawyer - Beckett Kennedy, you learned - chose not to question them further.

Next was your cousin, Mary, who testified she knew Patrick was hurting you, but as Beckett would clarify for the jury later under cross examination, had no proof other than your word. She explained how you continually went to her for help, that she helped you get on birth control without Patrick's knowledge, and how you confided in her the night before you fled to Texas.

The next witness in your defense was Carol, the doctor Joel had brought you to after Patrick's most recent assault.

That was when things got rocky.

There were blown up images of your injuries being projected in front of the entire room, including some that blurred out your privates, but you still found to be absolutely humiliating. You fidgeted in your seat, trying not to show too much emotion as Carol explained in great detail all of the injuries you had sustained not only that day, but historically as well. Madeline called into evidence your old medical reports from the hospitals back in Philadelphia, and Carol gave her expert opinion on each one, explaining in layman's terms what each and every note meant so that the jury could understand.

Every single cut, bruise, laceration, and broken bone was discussed as you stared down at your hands in your lap, your cheeks burning. You heard Joel shift behind you in his seat and you tried to take a deep breath, tried to catch his scent to calm you, but you were too far away or maybe it wasn't strong enough and the urge to turn around and bury your face in his neck for comfort was overwhelming.

Finally, Madeline finished up with Carol, thanking her for her time before sitting down next to you. She gave you a wink, trying to reassure you everything was going smoothly, and you gave her a small smile in return.

Beckett then got up to cross examine Carol. He tried to poke holes in her medical expertise, tried to question her knowledge about sexual assault and if she could truly be considered an expert in that particular field of study when she was just a general practitioner but Carol sat tall and told the court she was an OBGYN for ten years and that she very much had a vast amount of knowledge in the area of female anatomy.

After Beckett insultingly tried to suggest pap smears and the occasional birth could hardly make Carol an expert in trauma, she was excused.

"We have time for one more witness, Maddy," Judge Dean, an older man with bright blue eyes and absolutely no hair on his head, announced before she stood up and took a deep breath.

"The prosecution calls Sheriff Joel Miller to the stand."

After Joel raised his right hand and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, he sat down and adjusted his blazer, then glanced at Madeline expectantly. She gave him a warm smile and started slow. She thanked him for traveling all the way to Austin to give his testimony, asked him to verify how long he had been town sheriff, and asked him to give an approximate idea of how many incidents he had encountered in his tenure for domestic or sexual abuse.

"So it sounds like you're no stranger to this type of crime."

"Unfortunately, no," he replied.

"The plaintiff didn't call the police when she was assaulted, is that correct?" she asked.

"That's correct."

"Can you explain how you came to find out she was hurt?"

Joel took a deep breath and glanced quickly at you before looking back at Madeline. "She works as a waitress at the diner in town. See her almost every day for lunch. One day she called in sick, I had a hunch somethin' was wrong and her apartment's on the way back to work, so I stopped to do a wellness check on her."

"What caused you to have a hunch, sheriff?"

"The day before, I saw the plaintiff and defendant at a coffee shop. I witnessed the defendant put his hands on the plaintiff in an aggressive manner and it raised some red flags," he explained calmly.

"And when you went to her apartment to do a wellness check, what did you see?" Madeline asked, looking up from her legal pad with her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. You dropped your gaze to your lap. You could remember that day vividly. The shame and embarrassment and the pain all came rushing back, and you tried to blink the tears away as you focused on Joel's answer.

"It was clear the plaintiff had been attacked," he began, and only because you knew him so well, you could hear the slight strain in his voice. "She had a gash on her forehead, a split lip, a bruise on her cheek and scratches all down her neck."

Madeline hummed as she picked up the remote for the projector and flipped through the images that Carol had gone over. She stopped on a picture of your face with wounds that matched Joel's description and you noticed out of the corner of your eye a few jurors shake their heads sadly.

"Are these images the injuries you're describing, sheriff?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"After you performed the wellness check, what happened?" Madeline asked, setting down the remote but leaving the picture of your beat up face on the monitor. You knew she was doing it to garner sympathy and help paint the picture Joel was describing, but it made your stomach turn.

"I encouraged the plaintiff to seek medical treatment and press charges."

"And that is when the plaintiff visited Dr. Carol Parker, correct?"

"That's correct."

"I noticed at the same time, the defendant was in holding, is that true?" Madeline asked, and Joel nodded.

"Yes."

"Why was he arrested, sheriff?"

"He was drunk and disorderly in public the night before, so I took him in to sleep it off."

"Were those the only charges against him?" she asked.

"No. He also punched me when I was attempting to make the arrest, so he was also charged with assaulting a police officer."

"And when the plaintiff came to the station to give her statement, that was when the additional charges were filed, correct?" Madeline asked, picking up the remote to switch to a slide of the long list of charges against Patrick.

"Correct."

"I also see here a restraining order was filed to protect the plaintiff."

"Correct."

"And did the defendant obey the restraining order?"

"No, he did not," Joel said, straightening up in his seat. "He showed up at the plaintiff's place of employment and tried to intimidate her. Threatened her." You closed your eyes for a moment, remembering that night when Tommy and Thor stood up for you. How scared you were, how hopeless you felt and then Joel arrived, and you felt like you could breathe again.

"And the police were called then?"

"Yes. Maria Miller, one of the owners of the diner, called down to the station and spoke with my deputy, who then called me on his way down to the diner and I met up with him there."

"To arrest the defendant for violating the restraining order?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And did you?" Madeline asked, leaning against the desk and crossing her ankles in front of her.

"Not that evening, no. He couldn't be found," Joel said. You stiffened in your seat, bracing for what was coming next.

"Can you tell me what happened after you arrived at the diner?"

Joel swallowed and glanced briefly in your direction again before answering. "I took the plaintiff back to her apartment so she could get some things and stay elsewhere for the night. We were worried the defendant would try to harm her and thought it best she stay away from her residence until he was apprehended," he said, pausing for a moment. "But when we got there, it was clear the defendant had already broken in-"

"Objection," Beckett announced suddenly.

"Sustained."

"Allow me to rephrase," Madeline said, pushing off her desk. "What did you witness when you arrived back at the plaintiff's apartment?"

"It appeared the place had been broken into," Joel began. "Her belongings were destroyed. There were holes in the drywall, dish-ware broken, graffiti on the walls, and what smelled like urine in her bed."

Madeline used her remote to flip to images of your apartment from that night, and when the one of your bathroom came onto the screen, you heard a low murmur from the people behind you.

"According to my notes, you sent out a pair of officers to process the scene the next morning, along with a forensic analyst, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I would like to draw your attention to exhibit 6C, the forensics report," Madeline said, clicking the remote to another slide where a document appeared with the label Exhibit 6C at the bottom. "What can you tell me about this report, sheriff?"

"Objection. The witness can hardly be considered a forensics expert, your honor," Beckett said, standing up.

"I believe he's proven he has many years of experience and can answer basic questions," Madeline argued. "I will wait until tomorrow to question the forensics analyst in more detail, but I believe the sheriff has the ability to answer one simple question today."

The judge looked back and forth between Madeline and Beckett as he considered his answer.

"Be careful, counselor," he warned Madeline, then turned to Joel. "Go ahead."

"The DNA taken from the mattress matched the sample we took from the defendant at the station, so we brought additional charges against him for breaking and entering once he was arrested."

"And when did you finally arrest him, sheriff?"

"The following day."

"Can you please describe for the court how and where you found the defendant?" Madeline asked, leaning against the desk again. You nervously twisted your fingers in your lap as you listened.

"We found him in a crack house with some locals and a couple prostitutes."

"Did he resist arrest?"

"No, this time he was too high and passed out-"

"Objection!" Beckett yelled. "Speculation, your honor."

"Sustained," the judge said, frowning at Joel, but Joel just kept his gaze trained on Madeline.

"No further questions, your honor," Madeline said, turning on her heel to sit back down next to you.

"Your witness," the judge said with a nod in Beckett's direction, and a smug smile spread across his face before he stood up. He paced in front of the bench for a few moments, trying to build up the anticipation, and it was working. Your heart was thundering in your chest as you watched him walk slowly back and forth, but Joel appeared to be perfectly calm as he waited for his first question.

When he stopped pacing and you saw the look on Beckett's face, you knew exactly what was coming. It was the moment he had been waiting for. The bombshell. Their only chance at swaying the jury in their favor thus far, and he was ready to strike.

"Sheriff, have you ever had sex with the plaintiff?"

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #sheriff!joel #waitress reader #STR fic

[popamolly]

CAN WE PLEEEASE PRETTY PLEASE HAVE PLAYING VIDEO GAMES WITH THE VOX, ALASTOR, AND LUCI (AND ANYONE ELSE YOU WANT) AND SITTING ON THEIR LAP AND WHAT GOES DOWN FROM THERE (IM GOING INSANE)

have a nice day, love your writing, drink lotsa water!!!<3

៸៸ ﹟PLAYER NUMBER TWO!

characters. Vox, Alastor, Lucifer and Adam

warning. fem!reader, video game references, smut, 18+ minors dni

author’s note. i’m licking the plate clean at this idea because i just love it so much. thank you for the request anon, you’re so sweet and make sure you take care of yourself too, treat yourself to something nice! i added games to their personality so lmk what y’all think, did i match them correctly? also i have to say thank you sooooo much for 200+ followers??? like what??? i gotta come up with something very juicy for y’all. now enjoy sinners.

ALASTOR

“Ah!” The jumpscare from the scary game had you jolt in Alasto’s lap, making the usually cynical man grin down on your mischievously. You both had wanted to spend some quality time together by playing video games and of course Alastor picked the game, Tormented Souls.

Not only was it scary but it had a jumpscare at every damn left turn. It had gotten so bad to the point that you were sweating like a sinner in church— anticipating it, expecting it, and yet you still would jump. Though your lover Alastor had barely bat an eye to the scary bits as he controlled his character with delicate composure, progressing through the game with expertise.

Alastor wasn’t a saint, he had not only picked this game because it was scary but because he knew you would jump and every time you would squirm in his lap your hips would brush against his cock in the most delicious way. Call it a ploy to get you to grind on him or whatever you wanted to call it but he was too busy reaping the rewards of you in his lap during this gaming session, “Fuck!” You jumped again this time moving in such a way that you felt his hardening dick press against the panties that you wore, teasing you.

“Oh what is this my dear?” Alastor would grin, dropping his controller to grip your hips so he could force you grind on him. One thing led to another and you were moving your hips which such reckless abandon as he clothed cock just rubbed against your clit the right way, making your sopping pussy closer to an orgasm, “What a vixen you are! I barely even touched you and you’re already soaking wet. How entertaining.”

VOX

You were sitting in Vox’s lap, the both of you indulging yourselves in playing video games to take a break from everything at the V tower until you both were freshly rejuvenated for the next day. Though playing Minecraft might not have been a good idea because it caused for more stress than relaxation for some, especially Vox. “Why the fuck are my chickens escaping?” “Did you make a fence?” “It won’t even follow me, the fuck?” “They will follow you if you hold seeds.” “Where the fuck do I get seeds?”

He’d be yelling in your ear but the sound of his voice right on your earlobe and neck made you shiver. Vox noticed this and couldn’t help but smirk, “You enjoying being in my lap, sweetheart?” You turn around in his arms so you could straddle his waist with a suggestive smile. Before you knew it Vox was digging in his fingertips so harshly into your hips as he controlled your movements, impaling you with his cock and enjoying the way your pleading words fell from your soft lips. He bounced you up and down his length not giving a damn if your just came already. “V-Vox! It’s too much! Please…! Ah, fuck!”

Your pussy sucked him in greedily, velvety wall clenching around him as if you didn’t want to let him go. Vox drank in your form like a pure alcoholic. The breathless pants escaping his mouth was barely enough to make coherent sentences as his mind swimmed with bliss. With half lidded eyes, he watched you bounce along his cock, his eyes drifting downwards to watch it stretch you impossibly wide as you sank back down with a loud moan, “Such a naughty girl, enjoying my cock like a little fucking whore. Now tell me while you bounce on my cock,” Vox was in your ear again, groaning loudly but kept his serious tone, “How do I keep my Minecraft chickens?”

LUCIFER

“(Y/N) I finally got Ketchup to complete my duck island, come look! She is soooo adorable!” Lucifer held out his Nintendo switch for you to see the duck villager move onto his island. Your boyfriend— the King of Hell was currently obsessed with having a duck only Animal Crossing island and instead of taking the easy route he had spent weeks in search of Ketchup in the game and thanks to him manifesting it for himself sure enough he found the infamous Ketchup the duck.

You place your own Nintendo switch down to crawl into his lap, full expecting just to be all cute and cuddly but Lucifer had other ideas. How could he focus on creating a duckie empire in his game when your ass rubbed on him in all the right places. The man had been alone for 7 years— surely you knew he lacked physical touch and intimacy for a long time and now? Oh now he was touch starved.

“Her design is to die for! Lucifer now that you finished you could—Lucifer..?” Your eyes widen slightly when you felt Lucifer reposition you two with ease. You were now on all fours with your ass on full display for him, you turned on your cheek to glance back at him with a teasing smile, “What are you doing, Lulu?”

“I think you know my love,” With a snap of his fingers your clothes dissolved into nothing but smoke, leaving you naked and completely at his mercy, “Now don’t be shy, open up for me.” Suddenly your moans were filling the room, bouncing off the walls, leaving you nothing but a drooling mess beneath Lucifer. His grip tightened around your waist, giving you slow and deep thrust that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. The lewd, squelch! sound coming from your pussy echoing throughout the bedroom, sounding like a sinful melody to the Kings ears. He picks up his pace, his balls slapping against your clit repeatedly as he hit that spot within you that made you arch your back more in desperate need for him to hit it again.

ADAM

“(Y/N) babe, I’m going to need you to stop shooting at the walls and actually shoot another player, please and thank you.” Adam was getting a bit annoyed with you during your gaming session of Call of Duty and it didn’t help that you were on his lap, blocking his own view— and getting himself distracted. Why did you have to sit in his lap again? Something about wanting to feel closer to him or whatever cheesy shit you said he wasn’t really paying attention. He was complaining about it but he just wanted to tease you, in reality he loved it, “Pay attention (Y/N), this is a team effort, can’t have you going down first, danger tits.”

Your back was to Adam’s chest and your boyfriend couldn’t help his cock straining against the fabric of his red apple print pajama shorts at the feeling of your warm cunt pressing against himself you didn’t mean it in the way but he took it that way. With a devious grin, he would bring his long slender fingers to rub your clothed sex teasingly, making you nearly jump slightly from the contact, “Adam—!”

“Focus on the game babe, I’m not doing anything.” Adam was such a liar. He had now snaked his fingers past the waistband of your leggings, groaning softly to himself upon making contact with your slick folds. He rubbed your clit making you completely submit to his ministrations with a soft moan, letting your body relax against him as you clutched the controller in your hand. Your toes curled and legs began to slightly close as Adam added a finger, then two, then three. “Spread your legs wider gorgeous, let me play with that pretty pussy.”

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.

#hazbin hotel characters #hazbin hotel fiction #hazbin hotel smut #𖤐popamolly #smut #𖤐popamollyposts #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin alastor #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin vox #alastor the radio demon #alastor x female reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #vox smut #lucifer hazbin #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader smut #y/n

[unfinishedslurs]

hoh steve (steddie)

“Steve,” Robin calls right as he’s preparing to jump. He turns and looks at her, head tilted, and she taps her ear. Eddie watches as Steve’s face goes through several emotions, annoyance, trepidation, resignation, before reaching up and pulling something from his ear. He drops it in her hand with a sigh, and Robin makes some kind of motion with her hands.

He gives her a reluctant thumbs up back, and dives. 

“So, what was that?” Eddie asks after a few seconds, while they all peer into the water. 

“What’s what?”

“The…“ he pokes his own ear, “the thing he gave you.”

“Oh, it’s—“ she starts, but then Steve comes up for air and everything is forgotten. 

“—unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen,” Eddie finishes with a flourish. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, except that Steve seems like he’s actually a good guy, and deserves to be happy. Eddie knows it will never be him that does that. So matchmaking it is. 

Steve doesn’t say anything, just stares blankly at his lips, brow furrowed. He looks up at the girls, and Eddie assumes he’s looking at Nancy, contemplating their future together. 

“Hey Robin?” Steve calls out a little too loud, dashing all of Eddie’s assumptions on the rocks. 

She turns around, tilting her head and jogging back to them. Nancy keeps going on, because she’s got the biggest balls of anyone Eddie’s ever met and will not be stopped by man nor hellbeast. 

Steve points to his left ear, the one Eddie’s on the side of. “Do you have it?” 

Robin moves closer to his right, hitching her voice a little louder. “I couldn’t exactly take it into the lake with me, Dingus.”

“Great,” he groans, “lost my hearing aid and my favorite sweater. Fuck this place, seriously.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. Hearing aid? He would have noticed a hearing aid, right?

Steve turns to him with a grimace. “Sorry man,” he says, “I caught, like, maybe half of what you were saying. Something about trying to fix my friendship with Nancy?”

#hoh steve au #hoh steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things fanfic #steve pulling out the cow eyes: u really think nancy and i can be friends again? 🥺 #eddie: uhhhhhhhhhh yeah absolutely 100% anything is possible when u put ur mind to it #robin who knows damn well that's not what he said: i know what you are

[kingtomura]

Cat and mouse

synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words.  wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc

You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen. 

“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor. 

She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”

“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something. 

She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!” 

You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.” 

“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side. 

“Thank you.”

“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.  

“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all. 

It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”

That hurt the most. 

You had no idea what he was up to. 

Maybe he was as depressed as you were. 

Maybe he’s found someone else. 

The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous. 

You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees. 

God, what if that was why it was so easy?

You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id. 

Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you. 

To your surprise, he hadn’t. 

He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers. 

You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing. 

There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media. 

“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do. 

Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura. 

Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far. 

There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet. 

If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that. 

You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.

It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.

You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile. 

“We should probably get ready now, huh?”

Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.

“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!” 

—-

Girl’s night was a bust.

The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.

In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day. 

You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle. 

The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge. 

One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch. 

The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains. 

You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.

You had fallen asleep with everyone else.

The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.

Tomura. 

Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you. 

Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.

Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession. 

When are you coming to get your shit?

I’m tired of waiting.

And I’m deleting our farm btw. 

The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time. 

But the third message…

Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?

This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.

Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy. 

Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.

Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake. 

There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.

After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by. 

You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?” 

Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”

Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”

“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you. 

“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”

Of course you knew that. 

You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there. 

Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore. 

So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable. 

“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously? 

Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.

“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.

You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.

It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective. 

But things are always easier said than done. 

You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly. 

He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”

“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.

“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.

You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”

“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.

It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you. 

“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”

“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”

Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination. 

“Could've fooled me.”

“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment. 

“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”

“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”

“Bullshit—”

“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down. 

He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”

“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?

Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now. 

“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”

And there it is.

Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it. 

You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard. 

He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall. 

Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet. 

His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”

You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to. 

“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”

He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen. 

Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away. 

“You’re fucking annoying.”

“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him. 

He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of. 

The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on. 

You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.  

It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections. 

But that was not how you were.

And he loved it.

You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.

Push and pull. 

Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face. 

“Stop walking away from me!” 

He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 

You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner. 

“What are you going to do about it?” 

The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch. 

You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.

It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment. 

Cat and mouse. 

You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest. 

“Not so tough now, are you?”

It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would. 

Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed. 

He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”

You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”

His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact. 

Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer. 

You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible. 

Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity. 

He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”

“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt. 

His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well. 

The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation. 

“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more. 

“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.

There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning  as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.

The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course. 

You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer. 

He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over. 

The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.

“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression. 

The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure. 

“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”

It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure. 

Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t. 

He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high. 

“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality. 

Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell. 

You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now. 

So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time. 

“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.

He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him. 

He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom. 

You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock. 

There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.

It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.

Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon. 

“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!” 

“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”

And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy. 

“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”

He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication. 

“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well. 

Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.” 

“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek. 

You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.  

It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it. 

“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.

“Tomura, I—“

“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word. 

“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.

“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”

“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”

You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long. 

He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. 

The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it. 

He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high. 

The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.

You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again. 

It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup. 

Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible. 

“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”

“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking. 

“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.

“You told me to go.” 

“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”

“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”

“I just said I didn’t—“

“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?” 

You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment. 

He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”

“But you’ve never said it!”

“I show it!”

“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles. 

He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”

You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again. 

“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”

You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.

“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?” 

Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is. 

“Tomura…” 

“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”

You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.

“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”

Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it. 

“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.” 

And it’s the truth. 

Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.

He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss. 

It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine. 

You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura x reader #mha x reader #my works #tomura shigaraki smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you

[sushis-wild-imagination]

Seventeen when they realise they’re in love with you

Seventeen Masterlist

Im open to fic requests!

Genre: Fluff!

→ Choi Seungcheol

“She doesn’t bite, I promise” Cheol reassures.

Cheol brings his dog over to meet you. You were terrified of dogs, but you tried for him.

Cheol somehow got you to touch kkumas head and also feed her some chopped carrots. Kkuma really liked you and wanted to play with you. She kept jumping to your lap, but you tried your best not to make sudden movements or shriek and scare the poor dog.

You thought dogs were cute, but only from afar.

You trying to overcome this fear and interact with someone so precious to him, really made him seoon over you. He definitely fell for you that day.

→Yoon Jeonghan

He had called you over while he babysat one of his nieces. You’ve always liked kids so it was no big deal. But the only big deal was meeting his family. You’ve been together now for a month and meeting family was a huge deal.

His niece at first felt a little awkward and standoffish but soon warmed up to you when you presented her with some candy you picked up for her.

Jeonghan loved the fact that you got along with his family. He also starting feeling love for you that day that only deepened there after.

→ Hong Jisoo

“Tell me what you want from me Joshua?” You yell at him, tears pooling your eyes.

What did he want? He wasn’t ready to be in a relationship, but seeing you talk to that guy from uni also did something to him. Lately he felt as if he was running away from something, he finally figured out what it was. As you stood there, tears falling out of your eyes. He loved you, it hit him like a bag of bricks when he saw you threaten leaving the apartment without resolving whatever this was. He was scared to admit to himself, but now he had to say it out loud. For him to hear, for you, to hear.

He knew if he let you walk out that door, you’ll be gone forever.

“I’m in love with you”

→ Moon Jun hui

Jun had the worst day at work today, everything that could go wrong, went wrong: the paper machine had no paper, his sandwich for lunch became soggy, it started to rain when he went out to get some lunch instead, his important presentation fell through. Nothing was right.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, as you both take a walk. Seeing him stressed, you suggested a walk outside to get some fresh air.

He doesn’t respond to the question, so you just take his hand in both of yours, softly caressing it with your thumb as you both walk, you hoped that was enough.

He turned to look at you and your eyes met. Jun always thought it was superficial when people said ‘all my worries fade away when I’m with you’ but he finally understood exactly what that was like. All his cynicism disappeared because it worked. One look at you and he was smiling.

Regardless of what happens in the day, you were someone that melt his problems. He realised this is what love is.

→Kwon Soonyoung

“I’m going to make this work” you say frustrated, almost pulling your hair out.

Soonyoung was in your studio helping you figure out some beats for your new song and it was going to hell. Every tune you came up with sounded so eeriely similar to something you’ve already heard before. You’d rather jump off a cliff than accidentally put yourself through accusations of plagiarism.

Another groan while you play around with the keys. This went on all night where to a point soonyoung fell asleep on the couch behind you but you were still making the song.

“I did it!”

This woke him up and you looked so happy and accomplished that you had finally cracked it. You let him have a listen to see if it sounds familiar somehow, but it didn’t.

Soonyoung had heard many friends say that people look the most attractive when they’re working and they were right.

Your happiness was contagious and he was absolutely adoring you.

He fell in love with your happiness immediately.

→ Jeon Wonwoo

Like every time, this time too, wonwoo left for home after spending the whole weekend at yours. He lived two towns away so it was an hour of a drive to see each other. You made it all worth it.

This time, while leaving it didn’t feel like usual. His chest felt a lot heavier when he thought about not seeing you for another week.

This time, his throat closed up every time he wanted to say goodbye. Perhaps he had finally gotten used to saying goodbye until a new feeling came in and knocked the air out of his lungs and glued his feet to your apartment.

“I think I love you”

→ Lee Jihoon

You were snoring in the living room on your architecture table as he helped you into bed.

You’ve been working on this project for days, staying up all night. Jihoon is someone that works really hard and also holds a lot of respect for people who are passionate about their contribution to the world. He looks up to people who are diligent and dedicated.

That night, he had a lot of respect for you but also a lot of adoration. He was falling in love with your sincerity, slowly and surely.

→Seo Myungho

“I hope we get to see sea turtles later” you say to Hao.

Hao has always been attracted to empathy. When he suggested that you should go on a date to the beach with a clean up drive, he didnt expect you to say yes as fast as you did.

He has always found this empathy in you for nature, and preserving nature, very attractive. The fact that this was your common ground only deepened your relationship further.

He was head over heels for you when you agreed to pick garbage with him at the beach.

→Kim Mingyu

Kim Mingyu took you to the arcade for your 6th date, yes, you were counting, because he felt like a dream, you really saw this going somewhere.

The arcade was one of the cutest date things to do on paper, but you never got to actually experience it. You ended up trying all the machines there were. But the dance machine is something you were waiting for.

You had your concentration face on and you were really to destroy this machine. Mingyu was always carefree and very giggly type. His giggles made you giggle too.

You ended up challenging him to a dance off and went at it for a good 3 minutes. But all you could see was Mingyu half way through stopping and chuckling at your face. You raise an eyebrow.

“You’re so easy to love”

→Lee Seokmin

Dokyeom falls in love with the littlest of things, they then add on to become a huge pile of love and an overwhelming sense of adoration and affection.

You and him were walking in the city on a road that goes uphill. You had spotted an old lady with her hands full of 2 huge bags, barely able to climb uphill. You immediately rush to her and offer help. Dokyeom was puzzled to see you run, until he realised what you were doing. He had a big smile plastered on his face while he comes over to help as well.

Dokyeom enjoyed helping people, he drew joy from it and so did you. This instance was another drop in the ocean for him to fall more and more in love with you.

→Boo Seungkwan

Boo Seungkwan was an athlete by heart. He absolutely loves breaking a sweat playing all the sport he can.

Him and you started dating a couple of weeks ago and promised each other you’d have a go at his favourite sport badminton, which he boasted he was good at. You were an average badminton player, you enjoyed squash more.

The match started off slow, you were both testing waters. The match slowly gog to a point where it was just sounds of the racket hitting the shuttle, no giggles, no teasing. Neither of you like to lose.

You finally hit a smash that he could not reach. He was awestruck. Usually, he hates losing, but this time, he lost focus, all his focus was on how amazing the match was and how amazing you were.

Now if thats you or your badminton playing skills that he fell in love with is something you are yet to figure out.

→Choi Vernon

Usually Vernon is quite non chalant,doing his own thing, minding his own business. You and him have been speaking to each other for a month now.

And everything feels different to him. Every time Vernon sees something very interesting immediately thinks of you and to bring you to show it to you, all his thoughts about the future have you in it. He’s thinking about you all the time.

He was walking by a bakery and he thought about who this one time you told him you hated the smell of bread.

His brain was a 90% you and thats when it clicked. He was in love.

→Lee Chan

Your boyfriend had called you saying he didn’t feel very well and cancelled your date. You ended up going to his apartment instead.

You tended to him, he was running a fever and even made him some soup to feel better and stayed with him if he needs anything. As a boy, he had moved away from home early and never really had someone that cared for him like this.

This was the first time in years he felt cared for and he was so grateful to you, that feeling of gratefulness soon turned into feelings of love before the fever broke.

——

Tried a different style, hope y’all like it!j I’m open to fic requests!

#svt #seventeen #kpop #idol x reader #svt scenarios #idol!reader #carats #svt fics #svt fluff #svt preferences #scoups x reader #scoups #seungcheol #yoon jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan #svt joshua fluff #svt joshua #dino x reader #seungkwan x reader #svt vernon #svt woozi #woozi x y/n #woozi x reader #svt jun

[pacifymebby]

*slides a crisp $20 bill across the table* peaky boys reaction to the reader that gets excited any time they see them, like they literally light up with excitement, even if they just saw them~

Hiiii sorry this took so long and i hope i manage to do it justice ♥️

Tommy

🌿 He's alarmed by it at first, almost thinks its a little silly... Suspicious is perhaps the right word? Tommy is used to people performing for him, pretending to be something they're not, acting the way they think he wants them to act... Usually because they want to get something from him.

🌿So yes, at first he is cynical, he doesnt believe for a second that you're really so pleased to see him... Usually when Tommy enters a room that room falls silent, people shiver, people's mouths run dry... conversations go unfinished... a shadow passes over all he passes by.

🌿 Unless you're in that room... if you're in that room everything is different, your eyes light up, your whole demeanour brightens, you practically jump out of your seat and rush to him... you clasp his hand in yours and practically drag him to your table desperate to tell him all about your day and hear all about his... it's like he's the sun in your sky and he doesn't know what to think, only that somehow someone must have put you up to it, or perhaps you yourself are playing a game of mistruth. Attempting to deceive him...

🌿 The thing is he can't work out any alterior motive, theres no reason as far as he can tell, that you would want to cosy up to him or flatter him like this... And if you did, well, he can't help but think you'd be smarter than to think squealing and throwing your arms around him every time you see him is the best way to go about that...

🌿 But he can't bring himself to believe you're innocent, that you're being genuine... he wants to, really desperately wishes he could join you on your apparently care free sunny side of life but he can't... it's not like he hasn't been burned before...

🌿 So he's stand offish with you at first, always telling you to settle down, smirking at you, he almost seems a little embarrassed about the attention you're throwing at him... which is unusual for him because it's not like he isn't used to women flirting with him.. perhaps it's that this isn't flirting in the way he's used to.

🌿 It's warmer, more innocent. There's no games being played, not the way he's used to... and he gets very irate about it, feels he has to nip whatever trick you're trying to play in the bud immediately.

🌿 So the next time you rush to him throwing your arms around him he snatches your wrist in his hand and drags you away, into a lonely room, he sacred you with his sudden temper, the angry way he traps you between him and the door, finger pointing accusingly in your face...

🌿"Right miss l/n whatever this is eh, whatever you're playing at it ends right now you hear me? Right now..." you don't know what to say to him, speechless with fear, eyes wide and filled with tears as you stare up at him in shock. "Wh...what are you..." you start stuttering, your heart thudding in your chest, your stomach heavy like it's filled with stones so sad and disappointed because you love him and it looks right now like he hates you...

🌿 "Don't give me that love, I know you want something so you can drop the act... Whatever you want right, you do what everyone else does, you book an appointment with Lizzie and you book your turn!"

🌿But the minute the cold words leave his mouth he regrets them, the way you resolve falters, the way your eyes brim with tears... Your whole demeanour changes, you shrink away from him, as if it hurts to touch him. You can't look him in the eyes and he wonders if perhaps that hurts too now. Because you don't just love wildly, you hurt wildly too and he's wounded you mortally with his icy words and his cynicism...

🌿He knows straight away that there was no act, that you'd been nothing but genuine from the start. That perhaps your actions might have seemed a little childish, but that ultimately there was no harm in them. Or in you. You are just a very sweet girl who, for some god only knows reason, really loved him...

🌿 "Fuck I'm sorry love..." he sighs reaching for your hand, deciding better of such a halfhearted gesture and instead engulfing you in a warm embrace, holding you tight and secure, rocking you side to side, eyes closed, savouring every second he had with you in his arms. When he kisses your hair he breaths in your scent, looks down at you with these deep apologetic eyes, "Sorry love, forget myself sometimes... Get so wrapped up in me own head that I forget who I'm dealin with sometimes..."

🌿 "Its been three days since I saw you last.. I just missed you Tommy, I'm sorry I won't..." you begin to tell him you won't do it again, about to apologise for everything but he cuts you off, finger to your lips all, "no, no don't do that, please don't tell me you won't do it again love, please don't think I don't enjoy seeing you smilin eh? You keep smilin whenever you feel like smilin eh love, promise me you'll do that for me?" he says kissing your cheek, your nose, all over your face as hes talking to you, holding your cheek in his palm, his eyes so serious when he looks into your eyes waiting for an answer...

🌿 You're so confused, ten seconds again he looked like he hated you and now he's holding your face in your hands, smothering you in feathered kisses.

🌿"But..." you start your little frown would be adorable if he didn't feel so guilty for putting it there in the first place..."but tommy I don't understand you just said..."

🌿"Never you mind what I just said eh, I was wrong... Doesn't happen often sweetheart but sometimes, perhaps.. I am wrong." He says stroking your cheek, brushing your tears away... Because now that he knows this isn't a trick, now that he knows he can trust you, that this is safe, he's relieved to let his guard down, relieved to trust you the way he's wanted to for some time, relieved he can finally kiss you, taste a little of that sunshine you seem abundant in.

🌿He will make you promise him that you'll forget what he told you, that you wont stop smiling, and when you do he'll kiss you quickly on the lips and pat your cheek, "very good angel, good girl."

🌿Because the truth is that his cynicism before was just a defense mechanism. He hasn't seen someone light up the way you do for him for such a long time and he didn't want to believe you could really be so excited to see him, because believing that fact meant accepting that you really do love him, that in many ways you depend on him, that there are plenty of opportunities to let you down.

🌿The way he sees it, if he can make you that happy he can also make you twice as sad and he's seen that now too, just now when he almost broke your heart...

🌿In truth he loves your sweet ways, the way you rush to hug him, to hold his face in your hands and kiss him, without a care for who may be watching. He loves to see the light in your eyes when your whole face glows with joy thats because of and intended just for him.

🌿 Tommy is for the most part, a difficult man to read, he's reserved, always calm, his poker face was mastered at birth... You on the other hand wear all your feelings on your sleeve. Even if you wanted to hide how you felt about something you're pretty sure you couldn't. Somewhere between you and tommy there should be balance, you should even one another out. That isn't what happens however. If anything the contrast makes the both of you seem more extreme. You look giddy and wild in comparison to Tommys quiet, still nature. He looks dead behind the eyes, ice cold and unfeeling in comparison to you.

🌿 But it works, ultimately you need someone calm and he needs someone like you to remind him that there are still happy people in the world. That he still brings someone joy and meaning in life.

🌿 He does kind of wish you'd develop some kind of poker face though because he knows it isnt good for people to see you behave so childish and naïve, it puts you at risk. Makes you look like an easy target. Someone as sweet and pure as you sticks out like a sore thumb in Small Heath and he knows that every other bad man, men like him, out there will see you as an opportunity. Because sweet girls like you are the hardest to ignore when they cry. They'd make you cry to get to him.

🌿But what can he say, theres so much dark in the world and not enough people know joy, someones gotta let the light in from time to time and its good that you do.

🌿So when you run and throw your arms around him, burying your face into his chest he will wrap his coat around you and hold you just as tight. He'll let you smother him in kisses and embarass him with your relentless affection and he'll just chuckle, kiss you back and, eventually say something like "settle down now love, you'll make our company jealous..." He's only teasing you, always lighthearted, he'll never make the mistake of being harsh with you again.

🌿But he will lower his head and whisper a reminder to you, that there are peolple watching, that sometimes its better to keep your feelings concealed.

🌿He won't stop you though. After that first time when he scared you, sapped the life from you with two short thoughtless sentences, he has made an effort never to try and reign you in like that again. You're his sunshine girl and that's the way he wants you to stay forever.

🌿 In fact your happy go lucky excitable nature makes him more determined to protect you from the world. He doesn't ever want you to lose that joy, never wants to see you tired or worn out or disappointed. He lives every day with one thought heavy on his mind - he has to keep the sun in the sky for you. Can't ever let you feel the rain.

🌿One day you pull away having smothered him in your usual affections in front of his brothers and Ada and when you see the faintest tint of pink in his cheeks you smile coyly, "my my tommy shelby do my eyes deceive me or is that a blush I see before me?"

Alfie

🐻 Alfie Solomons is a grumbling old eccentric, a tired out, miserable, sharp tongued misery old git and you... you the most lighthearted, melodramatic, delightful girl he has ever met...

🐻Doesn't know what you're so happy about but he knows he'd be a fool to suggest you wipe that giddy little smile off your lips... because that giddy little smile is the prettiest smile he's ever seen and knowing it's all for him makes him feel so hopeful.

🐻 The first time it happened - the gasp, the jump, the gleam in your eyes as you threw yourself into his arms - he was floored by the shock of it... He isn't used to positive attention from women at the best of times, especially not pretty young women like you... Even if you have been sweet on eachother for a little while, even if you have been seeing one another in secret for several weeks...

🐻 So when you saw him across the street at the market and let out a gasp, waving to him from across the road before darting in front of a cart to throw yourself into his arms he almost fell over, wasn't prepared, couldn't believe his eyes... Couldn't believe the speed at which you came barrelling towards him...

🐻You took him completely by surprise but he caught you, just about. The two of you nearly fell over in the bloody road but he caught you, his big arms closed around you, squeezing you just as tightly as you held onto him. He wrapped you up in one of his bear hugs and chuckled at your enthusiasm. He was confused but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to hold you nice and tight. To show off to the whole street that you were his girl and you were ecstatic to see him...

🐻 "Now," he chuckled, smiling into your hair as he cradled your head to his chest and pressed a kiss to your temple, "I'm wondering my little ziskeit, what exactly all that was about yeah... You coulda got yourself killed runnin into the road like that and forgive me poppet but I ain't entirely sure I understand what was so exciting to you that you forgot yeah, to use your street smarts yeah?"

🐻 "Sorry Alfie..." You shrugged his worries off so easily, that girlish smile on your lips unfailing, it was almost infuriating and yet, it was far too pretty for him to really get annoyed at you... So a peck on the lips is what you get for being so thoughtless, a "you're lucky you're so sweet y/n... Or I might get cross with you..."

🐻 He is always having to remind you he isn't as young and strong as he once was, that you've got to be careful with him, you've got to slow down... You've got to think of his old and failing body yeah, "I'm fallin apart ziskeit and all these theatrics yeah, they're speeding up the process so just... Take a breath right and settle down..." When he sees your simmering pout he softens again, drops the grumpy old man act and coos to you, "I know poppet I know, you're just happy to see me right... God knows why yeah, god knows why..."

🐻 He's always teasing you about your excitement, reckons it's cause you're young, tells you "not to worry ziskeit, you'll grow out of it..." But he hopes with his whole heart that he's wrong, that you never will lose this bubbling joy.

🐻 And though you think he's simply teasing you, playing that grumpy old man act, he really isn't... Deep down part of you knows he really does wonder why, doesn't understand why you love him the way you do, why you're always so happy to see him, why you don't mind showing the whole world how happy to see him you are...

🐻 And that makes you all the more stubborn to show him that love, to shower him in melodramatic affection every time you see him so that he can't ever forget or try to ignore the fact that whilst you might be his little ray of sunshine, he's the one who puts the sun in your sky.

🐻 He's the only one who can make you that happy, the only one who can spark that level of excitement in you, leave you all head in the clouds giddy whenever you see him but he's also the only one who's able to calm you, able to soothe your excitement and get you to settle down. Knows exactly how to talk to you to get you to come sit in his lap and enjoy a little peace and quiet with him.

🐻 There's this look he gives you when you're beaming at him across the room and he can see that you're bursting at the seams with excitement to be bundled up in his arms, it's this look which says "come here then," but which is stern enough to remind you not to run, remind you to be careful.

🐻 And when he squeezes you in one of his bear hugs and kisses your forehead he talks soft and low, so calmly to you that although he can't settle your ever fast beating heart he can slow those wild thoughts of you down just enough to see you let out a little sigh and nestle into his cosy embrace. "That's better ziskeit, you even remembered to check the road this time see, a good girl, that's what you are darlin..."

🐻 But he does think youre adorable when you get excited and he feels so proud that its him youre excited to see. Honestly it's hard to keep up his grumpy, cold-hearted mobster act with you around relentlessly brightening his day.

Arthur

🍂 Honestly he is completely baffled by you, he just can't get his head around it... what the hell are you so excited about? No one ever looks happy to see him... It really puzzles him and he spends days getting frustrated, trying to get to the bottom of it, asks his brothers whats "the matter" with you, asks his sister who just laughs at him, says "good god Arthur if you can't even get your head around that there really is no hope for you..."

🍂 When Ada does spell it out for him "she likes you you big idiot..." He blushes, gets even more confused and a little embarrassed... That isn't usually how girls show him they like him.. they're usually far more coy, they usually try that sophisticated flirting, they usually want him to buy their drinks and then fuck them senseless in the toilets...

🍂 Then he's flustered wondering if that's what you want him to do to him...

🍂 He'll go bright red and Ada will slap him because she knows exactly which pits his mind has wandered to... "For fuck sake Arthur if you used your head half as much as you use your cock you might not need me to spell these things out for you..."

🍂 The next time he sees you he's nervous, he can't stop wondering if you're going to do that thing you always do again? If you're going to make that noise... The little squeal of excitement you made last time, it was shortly followed by a skip, your eyes wild as you called out to him from across the room. That little giggle of glee when you waved to him and then appeared ever so suddenly by his side...

🍂 And when you do he's unnerved, he's paranoid... He wants his sister to be right but this is just so unusual for him... People are usually fucking terrified of him after all, he's nothing but Tommy Shelby's big brute, the rottweiler as he's often referred to.. how can a girl as blissful as you like him when she's heard the rumours about him... With his reputation how could anyone possible be giddy, head over heels happy to see him?

🍂 So he gets all in his head about it, starts thinking it's some kind of joke, perhaps his brothers or one of the lads set you up to this as a prank, perhaps someone is secretly trying to make a fool of him. The disappointment is tangible and he swallows a lump in his throat as he looks at you again, waving to him from across the room. Are you really playing a trick on him? Is this all to humiliate him?

🍂 When he turns away, hardly even smiles at you you're left confused and a little disappointed. Your heart sinks and you get up to join him at the bar where he's lined up three whiskeys.

🍂 "Are you upset about something Arth?" You ask, your touch on his arm sending sparks of hope through his heart, "you look all gloomy..."

"Aye that's me eh, gloomy... Not like you eh, a little ray of fuckin sunshine ain't ya..." he doesn't smile when he says it, in fact he almost sounds bitter and you bite your lip a little uncertain.

"I'm just.. happy to see you Arthur... I know it's only been a few hours but... Well I kissed you didn't I..." you admit.. you're not exactly embarrassed to admit it but you do feel a little silly now that you're spelling it out to him.

🍂 "Did... Did my..err.. did my brothers put you up to this or somet love?" He's feeling pretty embarrassed to ask it but he wants to know because if you are he wants to stop being teased and if you aren't well, he wants to kiss you actually.

🍂 And when he asks you laugh, your giggle lighting you up, lighting him up too when you shake your head and tell him not to be so daft, when you can't stop giggling at what a silly thought that is. "As if I'd want to help your brother's play a nasty trick on you you big idiot..."

🍂 He can't keep the grin off his face, lighting up immediately, his hands on your hips dragging you in close to him, holding you tight in his hands when he chuckles along and says "eh well in that case then," before planting a rather passionate kiss on your lips.

🍂 Arthur loves to layer the physical affection on thick, even in public, he adores how much you adore him, adores seeing you light up with excitement, adores seeing you happy... But what he adores most, and what he can't get his head around even now, is that it's him that makes you that happy. Him the monster, the rottweiler, that old brute... He's the person who makes you light up like the sun and the night sky all at once. He can't believe his luck.

🍂 He's a very full on, brash man and when you rush to him with excitement he matches your energy the two of you taking over a whole room with your adoration for one another. He really doesn't care about appearing "soft" he'll just sweep you off your feet, snog you to high heaven and dance you round the room...

🍂 Even if the last time he saw you was five minutes ago, the two of you still light up for one another.

John

🌼 John finds your melodrama highly entertaining. He loves to watch you light up whenever you see him. He's a very playful lover and he will match your energy 100%.

🌼 He won't even be taken back the first time it happens. You'll squeal and he'll see the joy in your eyes, one look at you and he'll know what you're going to do before you do it... so when you come running and jumping up into his arms he'll catch you and spin you round in a tight embrace.

🌼 Won't put you down but will keep you wrapped around him in his arms for as long as possible talking to you about your day and telling you all about his... well everything he can tell you.

🌼 However because you were always like this with one another it was very hard for you to tell your true feelings for one another. Your over affectionate friendship was often described by both of you as "like a brother/sister to me..." and so it took you both a long time to realise you were in love. When you did however because you were already so affectionate with one another you fell very easily into your new dynamic. The only difference being that now when you run and jump into his arms he meets you with a deep and affectionate kiss.

🌼 He absolutely adores your excitable nature, he's a big kid at heart and he loves that there's someone else in the world who is carefree and wild enough to wear their emotions on their sleeve the way that you do. His brothers warn him about you telling him to be careful, Tommy even suggests that a girl like you who throws her affections at people so wildly, is perhaps not necessarily loyal, but John defends you to the ends of the earth. And definitely comes close to hitting his brother for suggesting something so improper about you.

🌼 And so although it takes you awhile to win over his family, John trusts and adores you from the very first time he sees that wild ecstatic light sparkling in your eyes. He's always coming up with little nicknames for you, calling you his Little Firecracker, telling you you're like a bottle of champagne. He likes to call you fizzy because you're always bubbly and bouncy with excitement.

🌼 He actually takes a little while to work out that he's the cause of the excitement. Because he doesn't see you when you're not with him (obviously) so he just assumes that the way you are with him is the way you are all the time. When he finds out from Ada that she's never seen you act that way before with anyone, John gets the most smug and wide grin on his lips.

🌼 He's really proud of himself for being able to light you up like that, he thinks your smile is gorgeous so to be at the center of that... Well he can hardly keep that smug grin off his lips.

🌼 And then he won't stop teasing you about that fact, he'll catch you in his arms and then kiss your cheek and then he'll say something cheeky like, "so I heard a rumour flower, that you're never this excited to see anyone else... That true?"

🌼 But you're not exactly embarrassed about your feelings... If you were you would probably exercise some self restraint in public instead of squealing and jumping up to rush to him every time you saw him. So you just tease him back all, "duh John Shelby... You must be daft if you think this is how I treat all my friends... I'm almost offended... What do you take me for?" You'd ask until he was backtracking, actually blushing and apologising because of course he doesn't take you for that kind of girl... He was only trying to wind you up.

🌼 Still he won't stop teasing you and he loves to wind you up by mimicking your little squeal and the way that you flap your hands when you see him sometimes, he never teases you in a malicious way though and he's always quick to reassure you that he's only teasing, that he loves your little "noises"

🌼 You get to know the sound of his footsteps coming down the street or hallway and you're always waiting at the door for him ready to throw your arms around him. You look forward to seeing him everyday and on long days where he's been particularly busy and the two of you have been forced apart from one another for too long you both look forward to snatching the other up in your arms and talking their ear off, telling them all the things you've thought of and saved up in your head just for them.

🌼 And oh my god, where the kids are concerned... Your excitement + John's excitement fuels the children's and they're even more energetic and wild than usual. You make for one affectionate, untameable family...

🌼 One thing John is sure of is that he never wants to see you lose your sunshine streak and so he tries to keep all the darkness in his life as far away from you as possible. He never wants you to be worried for anything and keeps Peaky Business far away from you. He would protect you and the children and your innocence with his life, never wanting to see you lose your innocent, sunny disposition.

🌼 he also treasures the fact that in dark times he always has his ray of sunshine to look to, always has you with your glowing smile, you his little sunflower who thinks the world of him and is proud and content to depend on him... It does him the world of good to have your relentless optimistic kind of love, means he is never able to forget all the goodness in the world because you're always right there ready to push your way through a crowded room to throw yourself into his arms.

Bonnie

🍀 L o v e s it.

🍀 Bonnie wouldn't change you for the world. He thinks you're absolutely magical, the way you light up every time he meets your eyes across the room, the way you're completely unafraid to show how much you adore him, how you're head over heels giddy and in love with him.

🍀It makes him feel so special, makes him feel like he's the center of your whole universe and he is... you tell him that all the time.

🍀 At first he is certainly surprised by it... it's not that he doesn't believe himself to be worthy of your affection or your praise, it's that no one's ever been quite so confident in their adoration of him before... and well, he just wasn't expecting you to come barrelling across the room into his arms like a bloody cannonball...

🍀But your adoration makes him feel so special and he flourishes and thrives with all the attention you give him. So in fact he encourages it, he'll be the one calling out to you across the field, opening his arms for you to come running and jumping into them. He'll be the one sweeping you up off your feet and dancing you around.

🍀He's a very physically affectionate lad and he will take any excuse and opportunity to get his hands on you... Loves to let you tackle him with a hug only to pretend to be taken by surprise, to let the two of you go stumbling back and falling into the grass together, rolling around so that he can pin you down and kiss you, tickle you with your hands above your head.

🍀You're practically inseparable, you're always with him before and after a fight and Tommy Shelby finds it very frustrating that when he wants to talk tactics with his fighter, you're there hanging off Bonnie's arm, kissing his cheek or wrapped up in the lads arms whilst Tommy's trying to tell him how to throw the fight.

🍀You're his biggest cheerleader, shouting and cheering him on during matches.

🍀But wishes youf be a bit more careful about pushing your way through crowds of roudy men so that you can get backstage to see him.

🍀Obce he won a fight and the second the time bell rang you had lept to your feet, crossed into the ring and had thrown your arms around him squeelling delighted and excited into his neck. And he'd been exhausted and sore from the fight but he couldn't do anything but grin and hug you back pleased that everyone could see how excited his beautiful girl got to see him.

Isaiah

🐀 Put aside his charming nature, his brash flirtations for a moment and have a think if you ever saw this lad display actual joy/excitement/affection for anyone before... I think behind that flirtatious nature he's actually quite guarded, a little preoccupied with keeping up appearances...

🐀 So the first time he really experienced your heart on sleeve, flourishing affection, how lackadaisically you let the whole room know how happy you were to see him, he made the mistake of being too cool for you... he hardly even smiled at you, saluted you from across the room despite your beaming smile and how you'd waved him over... he just nodded to you, a small smirk and that deadpan salute.

🐀 It made your high spirits plummet like a stone. You didn't know what to make of it. You'd never been embarrassed to flaunt your feelings before but he made you feel like you should be... that public rejection, his standoffishness, how casual and cool he'd brushed you off, making you second guess whether hed really meant any of the sweet things he'd said to you when you were alone. Made you wonder if you were just another of his one night stands... someone he could forget now he'd conquered you.

🐀And the thing about you is that though you may show your affection and excitement freely, you might feel adoration to the extremes.. you don't let yourself grow wild and dramatic for just anyone. Once someones shunned you like that, once they've left your heart aching and your eyes teary, you don't give them the opportunity to do it again.

🐀 So the next time you see him in public you don't even look at him and when he comes to talk to you you act like you don't know him at all... so now he knows how you felt... now he's sorry and wondering what happened to his little ray of sunshine...

🐀 Too stupid to realise that it's his own cold actions that have lead you both to this moment and when he asks you what's the matter he seems genuinely concerned about you and you can't believe his foolishness. You say plain and simple, "so it's true what they say about you is it... there really is nothing between your ears..." he frowns, confused because a) he doesn't know what you're talking about, he's got a whole face between his ears duh... and b) he can tell that whatever you're implying is spiteful, that you're trying to hurt him.

🐀 "Do all your thinking with..." but when you say that he gets it, the penny drops and he finishes your sentence.

"With me cock..." he smirks but there's no light in his eyes and he begins to understand, realises he's going to have to do a lot of making up to you, a lot to convince you that you're more to him than just a casual fling.

🐀 "For fuck sake love," he sighs when he sees tears in your eyes because your wild emotions have finally gotten the better of you and you don't have the energy to keep this cold mask on. You're not a cold person, you're a person with so many feelings and you feel them in extremes.

🐀 "I was so happy to see you.." you sniffle thinking back to the moment he'd broken your heart with that, "stupid fuckin salute... I wanted a fuckin hug and you fuckin saluted me..."

When you say it he can't keep the smirk off his lips, can't help but chuckle because it sounds ridiculous... as in it makes him sound like a fucking idiot.

🐀 When your tears get thicker and you frown not understanding what's funny he raises his hands in surrender, "I'm laughing at myself mousy, laighin at myself for being such a fuckin idiot..."

🐀 He really does feel bad for having upset you like that, he had no idea how much his actions would effect you but he sees now that you really do wear your heart on your sleeve, that when you were smiling at waving at him it really was because you were that happy to see him.

🐀 So he promises you, he'll never salute you ever again. Takes your hand and kisses your palm, holds it there as he holds your gaze and says it again, "promise, I Isaiah Jesus will Never salute you ever again darlin, never..."

🐀 And though he does still get a little embarrassed from hard to time - because after all it's difficult to look like a hardened criminal when youve got the sweetest girl in the world hanging off your arm - Isaiah keeps his promise. He's never cold to you again.

🐀 He grows particularly fond of your over the top reactions to seeing him, grows to love the sound of your excited little squeak because he knows it means that any second now you'll come skipping into his arms and he'll have his beautiful girl by his side.

🐀He will definitely try to reign you in and pacify you will his cooler forms of affection in public. Not because he doesn't love you just the way you are, he does... he just knows he has a reputation to uphold and that if you're going to be his girl you have a reputation to uphold too. You can't appear too soft or his enemies will eat you alive and use you to get at him

🐀 So although he's never cold he will give you lots of little reminders to be calm, to be cool, lots of "not now darlin, settle down, come here sit in my lap" it gives him an excuse to get his hands on you and keep you close whilst still managing to look cool about it.

🐀 It doesn't half boost his ego and he definitely gets quite smug about it, if Bonnie, Michael o'r Finn try to tease him about how soft he's gone he can always just shrug his shoulders, "sounds like you're jealous lads... Just cause you've never made a lass make those kinda sounds..."

🐀 Has to admit that when he hears that happy little squeak you do, his mind wanders to other activities, can't help thinking about how cute your other noises might sound...

🐀 and when you're in private its a totally different story. Behind closed doors when he's not worried about what others will think of him, when he isn't trying to be the bad boy he will match your energy, he'll be sweeping you off your feet with all the passion in the world.

🐀 Definitely gets a kick out of mimicking your little squeal.

Michael

☘️ Michael was raised with manners, he was raised in a household which gave great weight to the ability to conduct oneself "properly" stiff upper lip, reserved... Women who wait to be addressed before speaking to their superiors etc..

☘️ That's nothing like you... In fact you're quite the opposite. You don't believe in withholding happiness, you don't believe in hiding your joy, your excitement. If someone makes you happy you should tell them, show them every opportunity you have..

☘️ And though Michael may be taken back by your somewhat unignorable adoration for him, there's nothing he can possibly say to change your ways. You love him and you're going to express that freely and sometimes even wildly...

☘️And this does get under his skin, he can't hide his awkwardness, the way you sometimes embarrass him in public when you get so excited you can't contain your delight in seeing him... When you walk into the bakery in the morning and he's there to collect something for his mum, you walk in behind him and as the doorbell rings he recognises your gasp, the squeal of delight...

☘️ he says a silent prayer everytime eyes rolled up to heaven hoping you won't be quite as loud, quite as dramatic as last time. But as always you throw your arms around him, nuzzle into him and squeeze him so tight... So quickly of course that he hasn't even had a chance to put his arms round you, he's just stood there like an awkward plank of wood in your embrace.

☘️ He thinks you make him look silly... Unprofessional, not to be taken seriously... He worries that people will start to get the impression he isn't as tough or as cold as his cousins. That he's an easy target...

☘️ Will absolutely tell you you need to calm down if you're in public, he'll be so stern about it too. He won't exactly shrug you off coldly and he won't dismiss you because that would make the whole thing look even worse, how rude it would be... it would make one impropper act all the more uncooth and embarrassing...

☘️ So he'll always welcome your affection but he won't match your energy, instead he'll wrap his arms around you, hold you tight but not squeezing you to death the way you are him, and when he kisses your cheek he'll speak quietly but commanding.

☘️ "Now now love calm down, don't cause a scene eh... you can tell me all about your day later eh... for now though eh just you hold my hand and keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut..." he'll kiss your hand and then keep a tight grip on you. It's his way of letting you be close to him, letting you feel a little affection in return whilst still remaining proper and polite in company.

☘️ but secretly he loves your dramati, romantic ways. Because that's all it really is isn't it, romantic? You're like one of those melodramatic french girl stereotypes, you can't simply hold your lovers hand, you must throw your arms around him, sigh like a Juliet, hold his face between your two hands and kiss him like you're breathing him in. Like his kisses give you life... And Michael loves that...

☘️ He loves feeling loved. Literally who doesn't.

☘️when he's had a shit day at work, when he feels like no one respects him, it feels so good to come home and have you hit him with all that affection and adoration. Having you waiting at the door ready to throw your arms around him...

☘️It makes him feel completely adored, gives him a purpose, makes him all the more determined always to return home to you every night...

☘️You wait in the window looking out for his arrival home and then you go running down the drive to meet him, shouting his name, your cheeks rosy flushed from your excitement as he stops at the edge of the path, opens his arms for you to jump up into them. It's his favourite part of the day because it makes him feel so special, so important.

☘️ Michaels a generally serious, slightly melancholic boy, there's often a shadow which hangs over him, be it the pressure of living up to the high expectations he has for himself, or the shadow left over from a turbulent upbringing, the traumas he went through as a boy... There's always some kind of weighty preoccupation on his mind but you, you're a little ray of sunshine in a dark and fucked up world and he adores you, you're the light breaking through the cracks and he's so grateful to have found you. Your excitement and your drama are precious to him, he wouldn't ever want you to lose those traits and so he's fiercely defensive of you..

☘️ once at a family meeting you arrived late, rushing to Michael's side, you hadn't seen him all day and were excited to see him so youd thrown your arms around him all "I missed you so much," and Tommy grew impatient. He snapped at you, said "Michael for fuck sake would you control your damn wife..."

☘️ you were of course shocked by Tommy's sudden temper but what shocked you more was there whereas Michael would usually put an arm around you and remind you to settle down, save the excitement until you were alone, this time he stood up, glared at his cousin across the table...

☘️ "Tommy you might be the head of this family but if you ever speak about my wife like that again I swear I will..."

☘️ And suddenly it's you linking your fingers with his tugging him back to you, whispering to him asking him to calm down...

Taglist

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#peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders headcannons

[bratzforchris]

Inked Daisies (Chapter 3)

Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?

Read Chapter 2 here

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader

Warnings: Drinking, sexual harassment and unwanted touch, protective!Matt, physical fighting/mentions of blood, suggestive comments, a few uses of y/n

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Save me protective!Matt...protective!Matt save me. In all seriousness though, this is a tad bit different than my usual fluffy stuff, so let me know what you think!! Enjoy 💐🌸🌹🌻

“We need to talk.”

You jumped, dropping your pink watering can in the process. You whirled around to see who the speaker was, placing a hand to your racing heart. “Nick, what the fuck? You can’t do that.”

“Where have you been all week?” Your friend asked, leaning against the brick wall of your shop as he spoke. 

“What do you…mean?” You asked carefully, picking up your watering can and continuing to water the flowers in the planter boxes on the window. “I’ve been busy, Nick,” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Oh, it’s not me I’m worried about,” he mumbled, taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s Chris. He’s acting like a mopey puppy because you haven’t been over.”

You bit your lip, feeling rather guilty about the way you’d sort of ghosted your friends. You’d been responding to their messages, of course, but you hadn’t made any move to hang out or became seemingly ‘under the weather’ when they asked. You figured it was best to just keep your distance for a few days until you wiped the memory of Matt walking in on you showering from your mind. Not to mention the way you hadn’t even been embarrassed about it. 

“I’m sorry…I’ve just had a lot on my mind,” You murmured, eyes sliding to the shop across the street subconciously. “Do you know what we should do?” You asked, still staring at the building across the street as you formulated an idea in your mind. 

“Attach you and Chris at the hip so he’ll stop fucking whining? Make you two get married?” Nick suggested, a jokingly cynical look on his face. 

“Okay, first of all, Chris is my best friend. We’re not getting married. We don’t even like each other like that.” You grumbled, finishing your task and walking towards the stained-glass door of your shop. 

Nick followed after you, stepping inside the shop as well, despite your business technically not being open for the day. Petal Perfection was an almost magical place, if you did say so yourself. You had started converting the old antique shop as soon as you’d bought the place, turning it from old and dusty to vibrant and full of life. On one wall was your register and the glass case that displayed your latest offerings and arrangements, while the other two held a variety of small trinkets and gifts, and a self-serve bouquet station where customers could pick the flowers they wanted and arrange them in their unique way. 

You started bustling around, straightening up and getting ready for the day, awaiting your employee’s arrival. Maybe it was the fact that you were consumed with guilt over how you’d treated the boys over the past few days, or maybe it was the implications about how Chris felt about you and marriage, but either way, the pale pink walls of your store felt like they were closing in on you. 

“We should surprise Chris at work tonight!” You said brightly as you wiped the glass case with a soft cloth. “Besides, I could use a night out.”

“Huh,” Nick tilted his head sideways as he looked at you, feeling like there was something off about your behavior, but not being able to place what it was. “I mean I guess, but where did that idea come from?”

“Can a girl not just want to have drinks and go dancing?” You asked him, faking a confident, happy aire. 

“God, you’re so ADHD. It’s not even funny.” 

“Says you.” 

Although Nick had been diagnosed with ADHD in childhood and you in high school, it had been a running joke between you two ever since you’d connected. Granted, your friend would always fight with people who tried to make fun of or discriminate against either of you, but that didn’t stop you from bullying each other. 

“Do you think Matt will want to come?” Nick asked, fiddling with his phone. 

At the mention of the middle triplet’s name, you froze, all memories of last Friday flooding back to you. “Uhhhh…he doesn’t really like…bars and stuff, y’know?”

If Nick seemed to catch onto your hesitation, he didn’t mention it. “You’re right. I’ll invite him anyway, though. He’s been hurled up in that shop like a fuckin’ hermit.” he said, jerking his thumb towards the street. 

Sure enough, Matt’s car was already parked outside ThreeSixty Tattoo, despite the fact that it was only just after eight in the morning and the shop didn’t open until noon. The shades were still drawn so that you couldn’t see inside the store, but you knew that he was already hard at work, prepping for a long day of tattoos and piercings. 

“You’re a good brother, Nick.” You smiled, setting up the register for the day as your first (and only) two employees filed into the shop. 

You watched as Nick bid you his goodbyes and left the shop, crossing to the smaller, painted black brick one across the street. A part of you that you couldn’t explain was glad Matt had already pulled the shades up for the day, because then you could sneak a peek at your friends every now and then before the rush for the day started. In a way, you almost hoped Matt would say yes to Nick’s offer, despite your avoidance of the triplets for the past week. Maybe if you saw him in person again, you would realize that what had happened wasn’t that big of a deal. Maybe. 

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

“I don’t see why we have to do this,” Matt grumbled as you led him and Nick through the bar, his older brother tugging his wrist. “It’s work. Chris is literally just at work.” 

“Because it’s a nice surprise!” You yelled over the thumping club music. “And it’s Friday night. Some of us like to do fun things with our weekends while we’re young, y’know?”

He knew you couldn’t see it due to the dim lighting, but Matt rolled his eyes as he was pulled through the crowd. Unlike his younger brother, Matt hated anything that had to do with bars, clubs, or party atmospheres. They were too chaotic and noisy, and drunk people were annoying. The brunette would’ve much rather sat and had a meaningful conversation with someone than go drinking. Sometimes though, when he was alone in his room at night, you were the first person that came to his mind when he wished he was someone else. Someone more outgoing, more friendly, more fun.

Like right now, for example. You were sliding in between bodies, laughing and talking as you made your way to the bar. All of the people you spoke to were complete and utter strangers, yet you talked like you’d known them your whole life, all while being completely sober. By definition, you were bubbly. Ever since Matt had known you, you’d had no trouble making friends. When he was alone, he thought about what it might be like to have that personality. People absolutely flocked to you, and to him, it was admirable. Without even noticing it, a small smile had crossed Matt’s face as he watched you, despite all the noise and the uncomfortable feeling of sweat against his skin as people continued to grind into each other. 

The three of you found seats at the bar, with you sitting in the middle and chatting animatedly while you waited for Chris to notice you. Right now, the youngest was in his zone, yelling out instructions to the trainees and bustling around with cocktail shakers in both hands. The club he worked at was one of the most popular in Los Angeles, and despite the cold January evening, tonight’s turnout was nothing short of humongous. Finally, after about fifteen minutes of waiting, Chris turned to his right, wiping sweat from his brow.

“What the fuck? What are you guys doing here?” he asked, a smile growing on his face despite the tiredness that was clearly evident. 

“We came to surprise you!” You stood up on the rungs of your chair, leaning across the bar and hugging Chris’ neck. “How’s the shift?”

“Busy as fuck. Do you know how many Manhattan’s I’ve made–” Chris was cut off when you were yanked back into your seat by Matt’s hands around your waist. 

“What was that for?” You grumbled, adjusting your tiny, leather shorts. 

“You’ll get hurt.” Matt said flatly, expression unmoving. 

“How?” You cocked your head incredulously, staring at the brunette who sat unmoving with his arms folded over his chest. 

“Yeah, Matt. How?” Chris challenged, never missing an opportunity to poke fun at one of his brothers. 

“You could fall.”

“And Chris would catch her.” Nick added in, quite enjoying the way Matt was fidgeting at the questions. 

“Would he?” Matt smirked when Chris was pulled away by another customer who was insistently ordering a margarita. “Cause it seems like he’s busy.”

“You’re no fun.” You groaned, finding yourself sliding back into the easy rhythm of friendship that you had always had with the boys. As the bass of whatever current EDM song was playing pounded in your heart, you found yourself thinking less and less about your little…encounter with Matt last week. “Come on, Nick,” You said, hopping off the stool and grabbing the oldest triplets’ hand. “Let’s dance.”

Matt watched as you and Nick were swept into the crowd. He heard Chris chatting his ear off on the side as he continued to make drinks for the people swarming the bar, but his eyes always found their way back to you. In the darkness of the club, you were like a little beacon of light. Your hips swayed to the music as you threw your head back laughing while Nick spun you around. Eventually, you started pulling other clubbers into your dance circle, and the boy found himself fighting the urge to join. He was a terrible dancer, but you made it look so effortlessly fun that he almost believed he could do it. 

“You got a crush on Y/N, man?”

Matt painstakingly pulled his eyes off of you and the dance floor, turning towards Chris, who was beating the mint leaves for a mojito, a cold yet inquisitive look on his face. “No.”

“You sure are acting like it,” the younger brunette said coolly, sweeping the ingredients into a shaker. “Watching her like a German Shepard and shit.”

Matt rolled his eyes, not even denying it as he looked back over towards the dance floor. You had drifted away from Nick by this point, not wanting to cockblock the oldest triplet who was currently chatting with a much taller guy with dreads and a septum piercing. In the nicest way possible though, Matt didn’t give a fuck about his brother. He had become attuned to your movements now, watching as you said something to some overly drunk motherfucker. 

The guy continued trying to talk to you, getting more heated as he spoke. A frown was growing on your face at his feeble attempts to get you somewhere more secluded, seemingly not understanding that you were here with your friends and wanted to be left alone. Matt told himself that he just wanted to keep an eye on you for your safety. He didn’t care who you did or didn’t talk to. You were just one of his friends, and he wanted you to be safe. The brunette halfheartedly  listened to Chris rattle off random nonsense while he bustled around the bar, but when the awful idiot placed an unwanted hand on your ass, Matt was up and across the club in three quick strides. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Matt asked roughly, yanking the guy’s arm off of you. 

“Chill, dude,” the guy slurred drunkenly, trying to wrest free from Matt’s grip. “She said she was single.”

“She’s not,” he lied easily, tightening his ironclad grip on the man’s arm. “And even if she was, that doesn’t give you a right to touch her without her permission.” 

“Matt…” You said tentatively, not wanting this to escalate. “It’s fine, okay? Let’s just go.”

Your friend wasn’t hearing you as he grabbed the guy by the collar of his shirt, lifting him so that he was inches away from his own face. “Get the fuck out of here. Don’t touch her, don’t talk to her, don’t even fucking look at her. Got it?”

“Oh I’ll get out of here,” the guy sneered, alcohol hot on his breath. It was clear that in his drunken stupor he didn’t realize Matt was deadly serious. “And take that little pornstar body with me. I’ll fuck that bitch ‘til she can’t walk and make you watch. How about that, pretty boy?”

It all happened so fast. One second, the guy was taunting Matt, and the next, the brunette’s ring-clad knuckles had collided with his jaw. Matt continued to go at it on the guy’s face, landing blow after blow as clubbers yelped and yelled. Before any of you knew it, Chris had come from around the bar, pulling Matt back and making him drop the guy. Both men were still yelling, one clearly more drunk than the other as Chris pushed Matt into a corner. 

“Matt. You need to chill.” the youngest triplet yelled over the music, assessing Matt’s bloody nose and already bruising eye and jaw where the man had hit back. 

“He fucking grabbed Y/N’s ass!” Matt yelled, struggling against Chris’ hold. 

“Matt,” Chris said firmly, pinning his brother to the wall. “No fighting. He shouldn’t have touched her, but you can’t get physical, man.”

In the chaos and confusion, Nick had swept you up and out of the club. Matt didn’t know this, though. All he knew was that some guy, some motherfucker, had touched you against your will, and he was going to pay for that. Whether or not you were his girlfriend, he was going to protect you until his very last breath. 

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

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#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo imagines #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo fulff #christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo edit #sturniolo triplets #inked daisies

[y0urm4m]

BIKER CHRIS

(I feel like biker is just Chris coded soo)

Warnings:swearing,suggestive content,fem reader,nickname “ma”,smut,smoking.

:y/n never really found her self getting along with Chris, but she always felt there was something deeper that drew them back to each other and that darn bike.

It was a Friday evening, like any other she was sat at her window with a lit cigarette in her left hand her phone in her right scrolling through instagram. No new notifications she huffed to herself, what is nick doing he hasn’t answered in hours he had messaged her first asking about meeting up and having a night watching films and catching up on stuff. Bear in mind they talked all day everyday so not much was new, so they’d probably just scroll on there phones eat loads of junk and drink some energy drinks. She inhaled the last toke of her cigarette before putting it out, slowly becoming lost in thought her mind wondered to some of the times nick and her had hung out it was usually fun apart from the times Chris had ruined it by being a self centred, obnoxious jackass.

Speak of the devil, y/n’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of a motorcycle. Christopher sturniolo’s motorcycle to be in fact. The sound of the accelerator made her stomach do flips and her thighs squeeze together, but the abrupt sound of the motorcycle slowing down outside her house unexpectedly, caught her by surprise. She slowly peeked out the window hoping not to be seen: as she sat in her pyjama shorts and jumper. She finally had caught a clear glimpse of Chris slowly turning the key to his Honda CBR 1000RR: specifically orange and black probably being the only reason Chris bought it in the first place. Chris arose from the bike putting the visor on his helmet up as he began to walk towards y/n’s front door. Instantly y/n jumped up pulling her shorts down as much as she could, although the bottom of her butt still was out for Chris all eyes to see. She slowly made her way towards the door to unlock and see what Chris wanted, she reached her hand for the door handle hastily opening it. As She stood with one leg crossed over the other looking up at Chris, who had finally realised she had answered the door. Before even saying hi he took of his helmet brushing his hand through his hair. Her thighs squeezed together once again but this time Chris was there to catch her in the act, he looked her up and down smirking at the tiny shorts she had on. In response to his smirk she rolled her eyes thinking Chris was just trying to be a funny smartass. “What do you want Chris?”she spoke slightly annoyed. “No need to use that tone with me ma”he replied cockily moving slightly more towards her. “Christopher if you don’t tell me why you’re here I will willingly slam this door right in your face!”she snapped back. He raised his eyebrow at that witty remark. “Fine, fine I’ll tell you why I’m here if you stop being a cynic,” he chuckled. She didn’t look to impressed with that answer so he decided to finally tell her why he was mysteriously at her door at 5:40pm.

“I got forced to come and pick you up by Nick because Matt was out, is that a good answer?” He finally explained. “Right and how comes Nick didn’t tell me this before like he usually does when Matt picks me up, plus I could have walked,” She replied. “And in no way am I ready, so Chris just come in I’ll be like 20 minutes maximum.”she added on sighing, reluctantly opening the door letting the man in. As she turned to walk inside she had merely forgot her back side was on full display for Chris and anyone within a 10 metre range. Chris’ jaw dropped slightly at the free site in front of him, his hormones getting the best of his as his joggers began to tighten and his face flushed a slight red tinge. She turned to look at him. “You alright there Chris?”she asked in confusion. “U..uh yeah.. all good”he stuttered, looking down at the floor. At this point Y/N was confused Chris was never like this he’s usually loud and extremely annoying so she decided to brush it off her shoulder and get on with getting her stuff to head out. That wasn’t even the worst part now they both had to go upstairs so she could get her stuff, y/n was first to walk up the stairs Chris tried his hardest to not look at her ass but he just couldn’t help himself catching a glimpse of her ass and through the side of the shorts the orange panties she had decided to wear. “Fuck..”Chris mumbled to himself. “What was that Chris?”she looked over her shoulder at him. “Nothing.”he replied as they made it to her bedroom. Y/N decided it would be best to switch into some joggers for the ride to the house as it was definitely too cold for shorts. She quickly shoved her cigarettes,phone and some other stuff into a rucksack and made her way to Chris who stood leaning against her hallway wall phone in hand. The air was filled with sexual frustration even if neither of them could tell. “Chris we can go now.”she announced walking downstairs as Chris sheepishly followed behind as he was still painfully hard.

Once they were outside Chris faced towards Y/N. “C’mere ma.” He beckoned her over to him, she looked up at him as he grabbed his helmet slowly sliding it over her head. “Be better if you kept that on ma, can’t have you getting hurt!” He joked. There was that cockiness she remembered, She just nodded, as she slowly sat on the motorcycle behind Chris. “You know your gonna have to put your hands here ma?”he said pointing to around his waist. “I’m not doing that.”she replied shaking her head. “Yes you are or we’re not going anywhere,”he said, she just sat there staring at him obviously not impressed with what she was having to do. He slowly became impatient so instead of asking he just grabbed her hands and placed them on his waist. “Now I suggest you leave them there, ma.” He said, turning on the engine to his motorcycle and he began to drive off towards the house. The start of the trip was quiet Y/N sat in silence her hands still in the same place as they were when they first left, but a sneaky idea had come to mind. She slowly slid her hand down from Chris’ waist to his thigh, moving her index finger is circles. “Y/N?”he said sternly, he never called her by her first name it was always ma every time. But she ignored him still making tiny circles on his thigh, Chris’ cock was awfully hard now to the point who couldn’t take it. He sped up driving as fast as he could to the house slowing down as he got on his street. He pulled into the garage parking but before Y/N could go through the door he stopped her, pressing the button closing the garage door. “Ma, after what you did on the bike I suggest you do something about this.”he whisper spoke, as he pointed down to his boner. All y/n did was squeeze her thighs together she didn’t move almost frozen in place. He walked towards her tucking the loose hair behind her ears pulling her face forwards, her lips meeting his connecting perfectly. The kiss deepened tongues entwined together, this lasted around 2 minutes before chris pulled back his hands rubbing up and down her waist. “You sure you want this ma?”he asked. She nodded. “Words ma, I need words.”he replied. “Yes, Chris im sure.”she whispered, thighs clenched and eyes half open. He smiled a bit before looking at her asking for approval to undress her, she nodded this time he didn’t ask for words he was to impatient and began pulling her sweatpants down and taking her top of. Leaving y/n in her bra and undies, Chris groaned at the sight. “Can I take yours off?”she asked quietly. He just nodded, she began pulling Chris’ top over his head and pulling his joggers down. She bit her lip looking and the obvious bulge in Chris’ boxers. “I can’t wait anymore ma, I want you bent over my bike now.”he told her. She reluctantly bent over the bike her ass facing Chris. He slapped her ass, she moaned quietly in response. “You like that ma?” He asked smirking, but before she could even answer he slapped her ass a bit harder this time cause her to jolt slightly forward. “I’m gonna ask you to be quiet for me ma, can you do that for me yeah!”he whispered into her ear slowly pulling her orange panties down. She spread her legs a bit in response as Chris then pushed his boxers down, spitting on his hand pumping his dick a few times before aligning himself up. “You ready ma?” He whispered in her ear lustfully. She nodded, with that he pushed in leaving no time to adjust to his size. “Chris..fuck.”she moaned out, putting her hand behind her to brush it through the side of chris’ hair. He kept thrusting in her at the semi fast pace. As the garage filled with the sound of skin slapping, Chris’ groans and her moans. The aroma of sex filled the air as well as their noses. “Fuck your so tight ma, gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that.”Chris groaned in her ear. “Chris.. fuck Im gonna.. cum”she cried out as the feeling of her slowly coming undone took over. Her legs shaking slightly and her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“You think you can cum for me one more time ma?”he asked her softly.She nodded, this time Chris’ pace was a bit faster, y/n becoming even more of a moaning mess at the continuous feeling of Chris’ thrusting into her and the fact she had just came. His pace slowly became messed up as he became closer to his edge. “Fuck.. ma I’m gonna cum,”he groaned out gripping onto her ass. “Gonna fill you up ma”he whispered as he came undone filling y/n up with his cum. As they both stayed in place for a few minutes catching their breath, Chris slowly pulled out. “We should probably head in, before nick thinks something bad has happened.”Chris said putting his clothes back on, leaving y/n getting re-dressed. Y/N grabbed her phone, 1 new notifications from Chris.

Meet me later in my room and we can talk properly

ꜰɪɴɪᴛᴀ

That was honestly so fun to write if people do like it I’m kinda tempted to possibly make a part two or something!

Tiny taglist:

@freshsturns

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut

[poursomesunaonme]

teacher’s lounge

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: what’s a better start to your hungover morning than a fling with the pain in your ass in the teacher’s lounge? nothing!

wc: 5.3k

cw: reader is hungover, enemies to fuckers..? lmao, gojo thinks he’s a therapist, size kink, semi-public sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, lots of teasing, nipple play, hand kink!, praising, gojo is a cocky ass mf, protected sex, pet names (pretty girl, sweetheart)

a/n: rewrite of one of my first goj fics, love this sob <333

The satisfying hiss of the coffee maker was music to your ears as you leaned against the counter, the light  of the sun peeking over the horizon gently flooding in through the blinds.  Your fingers massaged the ache in your temples, trying desperately to alleviate the throbbing hangover that had been bothering you all morning.  The coffee dripped into the pot at an agonizingly slow pace, the strong scent invading your nose, attempting to clear up your foggy headache.

Your foot tapped impatiently as you waited for the pot to finish brewing.  Of course, you would kill yourself trying to be nice by making a whole pot for everyone to enjoy, but in the process, drive yourself over the edge of impatience - or rather, insanity.  You were tempted to snatch the pot and guzzle the liquid straight from the spout.  Your whole body ached with the worst effects of last night’s drunken stupor, providing a vignette of how the rest of the day would go.

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment as the coffee neared the finish line.  Frustration pulsed through your veins, fueled by your sickly physical state.  Last night had just been another fucked up date as any, so you weren’t even sure why you were even a tad frustrated at this point.  All guys were the exact same.

Nothing was going to change for you, no matter how much you tried, no matter where you looked.  There wasn’t a handsome stranger waiting for you at the bar, no kind gentleman to help you pick up your groceries after he accidentally bumped into you and knocked them out of your arms.  Real love was only found in fairy tales.  A wry smile found its way to your face as you chuckled at your cynic commentary of life this early in the morning on a school day.

A sigh escaped your lips as the coffee maker coughed out the last few drops.  You didn’t hesitate to seize the pot and pour yourself a steaming hot cup, adding creamer and sugar.  You grabbed a stirrer and approached the window of the lounge, watching the sun rise over the buildings.  It was a miracle that you even got out of bed this morning.

The styrofoam cup met your lips just as the door to the lounge flung open behind you, hitting the doorstop with a dramatic bang.  The coffee threatened to spill over the sides of the cup as you jumped, scared by the sudden noise.  You whirled around, seeing none other than Gojo Satoru grinning widely at you as he strode to the kitchenette.

“Good morning!” he exclaimed.  His eyes glimmered at the sight of a pot of coffee already made.  He took to pouring himself a cup without another word.  You turned around and peered through the blinds, surveying the still-empty campus, all while blatantly ignoring him.  His footsteps approached where you were standing.  You could sense his body next to yours.  The baited silence was only an attempt to conceal the fact that he was perturbed at your lack of response.  The hot coffee seared down your throat, bringing tears to your eyes.  Anything to avoid talking to the pain in your ass.

“Jeez, tough crowd.  You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

With a dramatic eyeroll, you decided to dignify his comment with a response.  “Thanks, Gojo.  I appreciate it.”  You couldn’t help the venom that laced your voice.  The presence of the epitome of pride was the cherry on top to your already shitty morning.  If all men were the same, he was a cut above - the worst of the worst.

“I’m guessing it was that date last night?” he inquired, much to your surprise at his knowledge of your affairs.  Your turned to face him as he shrugged innocently.  “I overheard you talking about it before the weekend.”

Your mind flashed back to the only time you mentioned the date at school.  It had been during your lunch duty the previous Friday, sitting with one of your coworkers as you surveyed the business of your students.  

“Uh-huh.”  The sun continued its lazy climb.  You checked your watch, sighing as you knew that most of your coworkers wouldn’t stop by the lounge for another thirty minutes or so.  Your lack of planning really did you in this weekend, as explained by your presence in school this early in the morning to catch up on work you didn’t finish.

“So how’d it go?”  You knew that the questions wouldn’t stop flowing from his mouth until you answered and stroked his ego a bit.  You rolled your eyes, going to sit down in your favorite chair as you prepared yourself for the interrogation that would get you out of this situation as quickly as possible.  Satoru followed suit and took a seat on the couch across from you.  He set his cup on the table and leaned forward.  His elbows rested comfortably on his knees.

“It sucked.”  You squirmed under what you assumed was his gaze.  Even with his blindfold on, his eyes still pierced through you as if they were bare and searching your innermost thoughts.

“Okay, what sucked about it?”  The questions showed no signs of stopping.  Your nerves began to fray at the incessant prying.

“What are you, my shrink?” you barked.  His expression didn’t change from his usual soft - borderline cocky - smile.  He knew he was getting to you; it was the kind of thing he got off on.  You wanted to throw the scalding coffee on him.  

“No, but am I not your friend?”  His voice dripped with a sweetness that threatened to make your teeth rot.

“Nope.”  You didn’t hesitate to squash his pride, but nothing in his demeanor gave away your victory.  You watched him intently as he took another sip of his coffee and swished it around in the cup.

“Well, all that nastiness aside, back to the dating thing.  You win some, you lose some.  That’s the fun of it!”

The enthusiasm in his voice made you sick.  And it wasn’t just that.  You were frustrated, hungover, tired, and he was… him.  Awfully annoying, an eternal optimist (a naïve child), and proud as hell.  And he could be all those things without much consequence because he was Gojo Satoru, the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer.  As much as you hated to admit it.  And all those infuriating facts were why you disliked him so much - because he never let anyone forget it.

“We have very different perceptions of dating,” you muttered.  It wasn’t like you were dating for marriage, but an emotional connection was nice from time to time.  You sighed, seeing the coffee level in your cup dipping dangerously low.  You swirled it around, deciding it was best to get more.  It was already working its way into your system, bringing your exhausted body somewhat back to life.  You stood up, watching as Satoru downed the rest of his cup’s contents.

“Believe me, I’m well aware,” he laughed and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.  You furrowed your eyebrows and opened your mouth to speak at his crypticness, but he spoke before you could get a word out, extending his empty cup to you.  “Get me some while you’re up?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you shot at him.  “And no, get your own.”

“Whatever you say,” he shrugged and stood, towering over you.  You turned tail and stormed towards the pot, determined to ingest enough liquid gold to get you to function for the day.  Unfortunately, his long strides beat you to the pot.  He snatched it before you could get a grip on the handle.

You watched, your eyes burning, as he poured his cup.  With a grin, he gestured for yours.  You both stood still for a moment before he made it clear that he wasn’t going to put the pot down for you to use.  Begrudgingly, you held it up and he filled it.  The warmth of the coffee began to seep through the styrofoam and over your palm once again.  

With a deep breath, you suddenly become acutely aware of how close you were to Satoru.  A tinge of blush rose to your cheeks as you ducked your chin to your fluttering chest, trying to hide the reaction you had never experienced around him.

“You’re not very fond of me, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away?”  A sly smile rose to your face without warning.  In an effort to conceal it, you turned around to pour creamer and sugar into the cup.  You idly stirred it all together while walking back to sit down.  You thought Satoru was following close behind.  Instead, you heard the door of the lounge close quietly, as if he were attempting to conceal it.  He didn’t bother to answer your question.  

With the door closed, it was just the two of you in what was beginning to seem less and less like an impromptu therapy session.  With the door closed, you felt as if there was no escape from the man.  With the door closed, you were just a bird in a cage, being watched by a man who obviously wanted to hear you sing for him.

You settled back down, crossing one leg over the other, watching through lidded eyes as Satoru sat, spreading his legs and draping his arms over the back of the couch.  His shirt was unbuttoned just two buttons below of what it should’ve been.  It was enough to avoid a dress code violation but also give off the relaxed teacher vibe to students and a “I’m a slut but on the down-low” vibe to the rest of the adult world.  In any case, with the way his arms were spread and his shoulders opened up, a peak of his chest shone through.  You tried your best to avoid staring at the glimpse of a chiseled masterpiece, but if that was what just his chest looked like, you wanted to see the rest of him.

You screwed your eyes shut, trying to reign in your thoughts.  Why why why?  Why now, of all times, were you lusting after this prick?  Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t gotten good dick in a few months.  Maybe it was the fact that he was the only man who gave you attention, as much as it bothered you to no end.  A sigh escaped your lips.

“Back to our conversation,” you began, hoping that talking would help your mind to clear, “dating isn’t as fun when all the guys see you as a slab of meat to fuck.”

Your eyes searched him for a bodily reaction that you knew wouldn’t come.  He could also win the award of “most difficult person to read in human history.”  He tilted his head down with a look that you couldn’t quite fully determine without seeing his eyes.  You took a sip of your coffee to ease the discomfort you felt.

“That’s not how I see you.”  Your heart skipped a beat as it screamed to control every muscle in your body that wanted to jump him.  You hung on his words as he piped up, albeit quieter.  “… at least, not all the time.”

Your eyebrows jumped, but you quickly regained control of your reactions, returning your face back to its resting expression.  Your cheeks heated, knowing that he could see straight through you even though you couldn’t even ascertain what you yourself wanted.

“You really think you’re a therapist now, eh, Gojo?”

“Of course, it’s just because I’m the best!”  His signature catch phrase was like nails on a chalkboard, but it easily helped you ground yourself on the fact that you hated him.

“For fuck’s sake, we know.”

“Yes!  The best at fighting, the best at teaching, and…”  He lifted his blindfold to reveal one of his cosmic eyes.  Your heart skipped a beat as you melted under his gaze.  You wouldn’t be able to hold onto sanity for much longer now.  But you decided that you might as well try your best.

“Let me guess,” you spat coldly, “sex?”

He laughed, the sweet sound ringing through the air as he let the blindfold fall to cover his eye once again.  Your breath came easier that you weren’t directly under his scrupulous stare.  “I was pausing for dramatic effect and going to put it in a more tasteful way… but yes.”

You rolled your eyes.  “I’m sure.”  It wasn’t anywhere close to a lie.  And that’s exactly why you didn’t leave the lounge the second he walked in.  Another stream of coffee flowed down your throat as you began to feel normal, last night’s hangover almost completely dissipated.

“You want me to prove it to you?”  Without warning he stood, rising to his full height while you sat.  He was so big.  You seemed so small.  You were frozen in place as he sauntered around the back of your chair.  The hair behind your neck stood on end as you felt him come to a stop and gently rest a hand directly behind you.  Everything in your body strung taught at the proximity of his unmatched energy.  His abandoned cup of coffee sat full on the table.

“Last night seems to have taken a toll on you,” he purred, his hand moving to glide over your shoulder and down your arm, rustling the fabric of your blouse.  You tried to hide a visual shiver as goosebumps spread all over your body.  His fingers trailed up your arm, across your shoulder, until they reached your neck.  You held your breath as his fingers hooked under your chin, tilting your head up, as his palm was resting on the side of your head.

Shit, the man’s hands were ginormous.

“I wouldn’t mind helping you wind down.”  His voice had lowered significantly as he leaned over, grinning devilishly at you.  You swallowed, the bump in your throat brushing against his long fingers.

“In the teacher’s lounge, nonetheless,” you sneered to his amusement.  Your head tilted down gently and he took the hint and released you.  The rustle of his clothes indicated movement as he came around the chair and squatted next to it, crossing his arms on the armrest and setting his head on them.  He seemed so innocent.

“I couldn’t think of a better place!  It makes it a lot more fun.”

Silence settled between you as you tried to gauge whether or not this was a sick joke while also trying to battle the fact that literally could anyone could walk in, even a student as they would most likely be starting to arrive to their classes, and the fact that you were seriously about to fuck a man that annoyed the everliving shit out of you.

“Gojo… you’re serious?”

His smile made his answer undeniable.  “Yes.”

He raised his head, the smile still plastered giddily on his face.  The corners of your mouth turned upwards into a gentle smile of your own as you leaned towards each other.  The collision of your lips was nothing but satisfying as you instantly melted into putty.  Every grudge, every annoyance, every dislike of him melted away as the pillowy cushion of his lips touched yours.

Realizing you still held the cup of coffee in your hands, you broke the contact as much as you hated doing it.  Satoru noticed and plucked the cup from your hand, moving to set it down on the table.  Still on his knees, he situated his body to face yours, squeezing himself between your chair and the table.

The tension built as his hands trailed from your ankles up your legs, causing you to press your thighs together inadvertently.

“Oh, now you wanna be shy?” he cooed, his hands reaching the bottom of your skirt.  His nimble fingers gently hooked underneath it, pulling it upwards to reveal more of you.  You bit your lip as you scooted farther down the chair so that he could get your clothing out of the way easier.  

A grin rose to his face as he tore off his blindfold to be able to see all of you.  Breath hissed through his teeth as he saw your panties and the wet spot that you had just begun to feel.  The skin of your knuckles lightened as you gripped the armrests while Satoru’s hands pushed your skirt under you so that he had a full view of your bottom half.

“You say you hate me, but this suggests otherwise,” he teased, running a finger over your clit through your panties.  You gasped, hips bucking at the sudden contact, not even bothering to answer him with a smart retort.  He pulled down your panties to your knees swiftly, the cold air exacerbated by the dampness of your center.  In a swift motion, he ducked his head under your panties, swinging your legs over his shoulders.  

The closeness of him almost sent you into cardiac arrest as his hot breath ghosted against your aching sex.  He pressed a painfully slow kiss to your clit, looping his arms around your thighs to grip the soft flesh.  You let out a whimper as your head tilted back, finally accepting that this was going to happen and you were going to have to settle with Satoru to give you the fucking you needed.  Not like you knew it was going to be settling of any type - you weren’t the first teacher to be fucked by him, and you’d heard all the stories.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, the vibrations of his voice nearly sending you spiraling as they flowed over your cunt, “eyes on me.”

You looked down at him inquisitively, then watched with bated breath as his impossibly beautiful eyes glinted while he licked a stripe from your opening to your clit.

“Christ, quit being such a tease,” you breathed, tangling your fingers in his soft white hair, tugging him closer.  The warmness of his body trapped between your thighs was too much.

“Quit being so impatient,” he shot back, resisting your pulling easily.  He kissed your cilt once again, then took it into his mouth, sucking gently.  Your breath hissed between your teeth as your legs began to shake.  You weren’t even a minute and a half into this and you were unbelievably sensitive.

He released you with a satisfying pop, then decided that you had done enough waiting.  He dove face first into you, eating you with a ferocity that nearly sent the chair tumbling backwards onto the floor.  You held onto him, your breathing becoming uneven as his expert moves pushed you towards an orgasm at a rate you had never experienced before.

You watched him in wonder, heart skipping beats every time his eyes fluttered upward to see what pretty face you were making in response to his tongue.  One of your hands left his hair and settled on his hand.

“Satoru… finger me, please?” you asked meekly, blush spreading across your cheeks.  The change in your demeanor gave you whiplash, but at the sight and feeling of this man between your legs, he could change anyone’s mind.  It was embarrassing, but you’d chalk it up to the nature of man.

“You’ve never called me Satoru before,” he commented, his mouth still full of you.  “But since you asked nicely, yes.”

His arm left your thigh cold as he untangled himself from your limbs, cramming his arm into the space between him and yourself.  He licked his pointer and middle finger, eyes locked in a gaze with yours.  You couldn’t help but sink further into the couch, knowing that he was about to fingerbang you into oblivion.  With a sly smile, he gently massaged your clit with his fingers, then slid them easily inside of you, curling them up to hit your sweet spot easily.

A cry attempted to rip itself from your lips and was promptly stopped by a refusal to open your mouth.  Satoru watched you squirm as he began to rub where you needed him most, his eyes twinkling with lust.

“I’ve never seen you like this before.  Can’t say if I like it more than your usual demeanor, ‘cause it’s equally entertaining to me.”

All you managed was a whimper with a vain attempt to keep your eyes open.  He smiled against you, exhaling a puff of warm breath that made you twitch.  With a seductive narrow to his eyes, he began to eat you out once again, with more fervor than before.  You couldn’t say you were surprised given how the whole situation escalated so quickly.  But you just couldn’t control yourself.  You were so desperate, so needy, that your body had a mind of its own.  Whimpering, sweet noises fell out of your mouth with ease as you began to grind your hips on his face. 

“Did I tell you how sweet you taste?  God, it’s like candy.”  He paused for a moment to look up at you.  His lips moving around your clit was almost as good as when he focused on devouring you.  “And you know how much I love candy.”

You were surprised that someone hadn’t come in already, as you began to hear the shuffling of feet and voices as students began to enter the halls.  You tried your best to keep your moans at a minimum level, but Satoru really was a pussy-eating champ.  You couldn’t even form any kinds of responses to the comments he’d been making - you were a complete mess.

Within another two minutes he had you on the verge of an orgasm.  He noticed the lack of rhythm in you grinding on him, and intensified his game.  You were getting tired, you were getting uncoordinated.  You were oh so close.  Your eyes rolled back into your head as a moan tore through your lips, signifying your push over the edge.  His fingers plunged deeper into you, pushing harder on that magic button as he licked and sucked on your throbbing clit.

“F-fuck, Satoru!”  Another moan left your mouth as you slapped your hand over it to cover up the sound of your hookup.  He laughed against your sensitive bud of nerves, augmenting the pleasure as the waves of your climax washed over you.

“I know, I know,” he murmured as your body jerked with the throes of probably the best orgasm you ever had.  Your hand moved from your mouth to your eyes as you took a deep breath, trying to recover a slower heart rate.

Without warning, Satoru ducked under your panties and with one hand, yanked them up.  With the other, he pulled your skirt down, not bothering to make sure that everything was all neat, straight, tidy, or in the right place.  He stood up and swiftly took his seat, picking up a newspaper and sipping his coffee like nothing happened.  Combined with your lack of awareness from that orgasm and the superhuman speed of him, you didn’t understand what was going on.

“Satoru…?” you started, then heard voices outside of the door.  Your panties were still around the middle of your thighs, you didn’t have the time to adjust them before the handle twisted and a group of teachers entered.  You huffed, smoothing your hair down and leaning forward to grab your coffee.  

You gave your salutations as they crowded around the coffee pot, chattering about their own weekends as Satoru and you sat in silence.  The sexual tension buzzed like a swarm of hornets between you, and as much as you wanted to grab his hand and waddle back to your classroom to fuck him there, you knew that there would be students there already.  You would just have to wait till everyone left.  You didn’t look at Satoru, knowing that he would shoot you a wink or a smirk and would have you jumping him in front of everyone.

“What are you up to in the lounge this late in the morning?” a teacher’s voice addressing you rang out from the cluster that was beginning to disperse out of the room, to your relief.

“Taking a minute to prepare for the day.”  You didn’t exactly lie.  “Had a hell of a weekend, but I’ll tell you about it at lunch.”

She nodded, calling out to Satoru, who waved amicably.  And with that final goodbye, the rest of the teachers quickly filed out to get to their respective rooms before school started.

“Well if you wanted it to take a minute, you could’ve just said so,” Satoru joked.  

“I would think that the strongest would last longer than that,” you scoffed.

An expression that nearly made you cower in your chair crossed over his face before dissolving into that all-too-sweet smile.  As much as it scared you, it excited you.  He stood, starting to unbuckle his belt.  A wicked smile crept to his visage.

“You talk a lot of shit for someone who just finished in less than five minutes.  Now are we doing this or what?”

The ball was in your court.  And he was right.  You really had no place to dog on him for his skills because he actually was good.  And if you really wanted to see how long he lasted, you’d have to call in sick until summer vacation.  

So, you rolled your eyes as you rose from your seat and turned, kneeling on it.  You braced your hands on the back of it, shaking your ass tauntingly at him as your panties fell down your thighs.  The cool air hit your heat instantly, drawing a soft breath from your lips.

“Alright then, showoff, set a record for me.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Your head whipped around, cheeks heating and chest tightening at the sight of him tearing open a condom wrapper with his teeth and swiftly slipping it over that pretty, pretty cock.

“You always carry condoms with you?”

“You always deflect from a question with another question?”

“Christ, you’re the worst,” you muttered, stifling a jolt through your body when his hands pushed your skirt up over your ass.  You bit your lip to ward off a moan when he massaged the muscles and spread them to reveal your dripping center.  He whistled, lightly spanking your ass as he pressed himself between your folds, making sure it was wet enough to slide in comfortably.  

Your breath hitched at the feeling of his cock sliding against your clit.  Again and again it caught on the aching bud, your entire body seizing over and over in response.  How long was he going to take if the bell was going to ring in just a few minutes?

But you groaned when the fat tip slid in, just a delicious taste of the stretch that the rest of him would bring.  A low, guttural groan tore itself from his lips as you squeezed the tip over and over, inviting the rest of him in.  Your nails dug into the fabric of the chair as every vein of his shaft brushed against your walls until you were filled up.  And the worst part was that in this position, he couldn’t even bottom out.  Your stomach fell to acknowledge that he was that big.  For a few seconds, though, he didn’t even bother to start moving his hips.

“Are you gonna fuck me or what?” you snapped.  You physically didn’t have the time for his games.  You wiggled your ass slightly to get some friction, gasping when it worked, his pretty, veiny cock dragging against your walls.  You shuddered, then just barely began to fuck yourself on him.

“You haven’t started a timer for the record yet.”

“If your dick wasn’t in me right now, I’d cut it off.”

“Oh, but you’re so tight, I’m thinking you just might,” he whispered in your ear.  In a flash, his hands grabbed your waist and it was off to the races.  “Make sure to keep time, pretty girl.”

Within seconds, the impossibility of his entire cock burying within you became a reality, filling you up to the brim.  You whimpered as he snaked a hand under you, rubbing your clit to bring you closer to your high.  His other hand effectively controlled your body, pulling you back on his cock to push himself deeper over and over again.

You lost track of where your edges were, nearly dissolving into the chair as the tingling in your toes spread to your entire body.  Everything was warm and sweaty, everything was Satoru.  His chest pressed against your back as he stooped down, his hand electing to sneak inside your shirt to tweak at your nipple instead of holding your waist.  He rutted into you now, his cock impossibly deep and showing no signs of retreat.

“Satoru… ‘m close.”

“You gonna cum with me, sweetheart?”  His breathing was ragged in your ear.  You nodded, unable to form the words as he planted kisses on your neck.

The sweet touches were enough to push you over.  Without warning, an unbelievably loud moan tore through your lips as pleasure washed over you completely.  Satoru’s hand slapped over your mouth, as you had no motor capabilities to do it yourself.  His cock spasmed within you as he came in response to your walls squeezing and milking him dry.

Together you rocked, your sweaty bodies in ecstasy as you rode out your highs.  Stars swam in your vision as this orgasm was impossibly better than the last.  Glimmering lights were all that you could see for a good few seconds before Satoru pulled out at the sound of the bell signaling the move for students to make it to class before being late.  

Your eyes widened and a gasp escaped your lips at the emptiness.  He pulled up your panties and yanked down your skirt, waving away your protests at the discomfort of it.

“So you’ll remember this,” he chuckled at your waddling, trying to get used to the uncomfortable wetness between your legs.  He took off the condom and tied it off before throwing it away.   You were about to object, but you stopped, knowing that nothing you would say would convince him to throw it away elsewhere.  He grabbed his blindfold and set it deftly to its normal position. 

“Like I’ll ever forget it,” you rolled your eyes, fixing your clothes and hair to make sure that nothing was amiss before you had to face a classroom of students.   You picked up your cup of coffee, fiddling with your panties to make the cooling dampness bearable.  Just when you thought you could exist comfortably for the rest of the day, Satoru made it even more difficult.  You gave up fiddling with your clothes and found that he was waiting by the door for you.   You strode over to him.

“So, how’d I do?” he smirked.

“I didn’t take the time,” you shot back, pushing past him.  He reached over you, which of course you huffed at and he ignored, holding the door open.  You quickly set off down the hall to where your classrooms were unfortunately across the hall from each other.  It didn’t look suspicious at all that you were late… together.

As much as you hated to admit it, last night’s shitshow had already been forgotten in the wake of Satoru’s gift.  Depending on how desperate you would be in the future, this posed a beneficial relationship for you, if you could only get past the fact that he was an incessant annoyance.

“I hope you have a wonderful day,” he grinned from his door, waving.  “You’ll have to update me on how your next dates go!”

You rolled your eyes, not dignifying the comments with a response.  You strolled into the classroom, smiling at your bleary eyed students.  And just before you shut the door, ready to apologize for the wait and delve into your lesson, you heard a whisper from across the hall.

“Three minutes, twenty-seven seconds.”

© all work belongs to poursomesunaonme.  do not copy and repost.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk gojo #jjk smut #🪐beanie writes!

[neoarchipelago]

And they were Roomates (part 3)

A/N: Wahoou... I didn't expect this to get so much appreciation. I remind everyone that i accept tips even thought my content stays entirely free for everyone as i don't really do this for money but for my horny demon persona. This is probably getting more parts at this point

accepting some headcanons, situation ideas for these two as i'm slowly running out, it might take me longer to write if i can't find stuff.

TW: violence, blood, crusing, etc.

Love ya'll enjoy.

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You frowned, trying to make your laptops fit in your bag. You were heavily frustrated today. 

It didn't exactly differ from your mood for the past three weeks. THREE WEEKS. He was gone for three weeks and you had 0 news. You stopped fighting with the zipper of your bag to sigh. 

Of course, as if the situation wasn't frustrating enough, you had spent the last week on a mission with a team who's sergeant hated your guts. Sergeant Keller. You were just hoping to end this as soon as possible. Avoiding the sergeant was now your top priority. You had managed to get on his last nerve by defying him at the meeting and proposing a plan that was better than his. The furious look he had sent your way promised havok if he found you alone. Which you totally were right now.

The sound of footsteps made you freeze. Spinning around you cursed. 

"Sergeant…" 

You didn't have time to finish, thanks to the punch to your sternum making you drop to your knees, breath caught in your lungs. 

Fuck…

"You are a little bitch." 

The remark passed through you like a yawn. What bothered you the most was the blows you might receive. He wouldn't kill you, or actually hurt you badly because you were still a valuable asset to the government and the military. But he'd still make it painful. 

"You're… just… mad… I'm better than you…" you hissed through breaths.

This time the kick to your ribs made you whimper. Grabbing a fistful of your hair he lowered himself next to you. 

"Stop fucking acting like you're a hero. You're a fucking terrorist. You should be dead, a bullet through the brain. Know your damn place." 

He hissed through gritted teeth. 

"You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" you teased. 

The two other kicks, one to your stomach the other landing on your wrist were expected. 

You couldn't let yourself be spoken like that… it hurt but fuck you weren't going to let him talk down to you. 

You were hunched over on the floor, hand over your ribs, and right wrist badly hurting.  

The sergeant threw you one last glance before heading out. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. 

You took several minutes trying to calm down the pain before standing up, grabbing your things and darting out. The cold hair made you huff out little clouds. The 21st of December… you had spent many Christmases alone… but you didn't feel as lonely as you did right now. 

You bit your lip. Keeping the tears at bay… but had long lost this fight. 

---

The way home was spent crying. You were thankful no one was out at this Wonderful late hour. You had managed to reach your apartment door, tears blurring your vision, and your aching side and wrist throbbing. 

Your hand was shaking as you put the key in the lock. You pushed the door open slamming it behind you. You locked it, heading for the living room. You let your things drop on the couch. You spun around to the counter, flinching heavily as you sat down on one of the stools. You tried to breathe through the pain, throat burning as you tried to keep yourself from crying even more.

Suddenly your ears picked up a sound from behind. Jumping down and turning around you froze. 

The silence was deafening. Rage and pain filled your brain. How dare he? Just… what?! 

"Sparrow-"

"What the fuck?!" You half screamed, tears now freely falling. 

"Sparrow." His tone now much more firm. "Are you alright?" 

You chuckled, throwing the most cynical smile you could find in you. 

"I'm amazing." You hissed. 

"Stop. What's wrong? What happ-" 

"None of your business." You spat. 

You were furious. You were absolutely broken and in pain. He walked up to you, leaving a few steps in between. 

God… you had missed his eyes… you mentally cursed yourself at the thought. 

"I know you're angry. But tell me." 

"Angry? You think I'm angry? I'm furious! You left ! Without a word! I'm in pain!" 

That was true. Physical and mentally. You were trying to keep your voice down. But his words kept repeating in your mind. 'we're not friends'. 

You took a deep breath, both staying silent for a long minute. 

"Sparrow… tell me." 

You closed your eyes for a second. 

"Why?" You asked. 

You looked at him, eye to eye for once. You were genuinely asking him. 

"Don't tell me you care… you made it clear. We're not friends." 

"Sparrow.." 

"No. No. Not this time." 

You felt the heavy crush of your exhausted mind and body. You wanted to escape. You needed to. You walked around him. He grabbed your bruised wrist making you whimper in pain. 

The silence after was tense. His gaze had heavily darkened. He was… furious. 

"Who?" Was all he asked. His tone was the coldest you ever heard him. 

You walked to the cupboard, your initial destination, grabbing something inside. You ignored his question entirely. You placed the black mug on top of the counter. He eyed it. A white skull was drawn on it, with the letters lieutenant Riley. You had it made for him as a Christmas present. 

"I figured, you hate Christmas. Though I read no stupid file, it was kind of obvious." You started. Eyes not leaving the object. "I still bought you a Christmas gift. And I know it's not Christmas yet, but. I don't think we'll spend it together." 

You looked up at him. "Now you can hate me as much as you want…" you whispered. 

You didn't wait for any answer at all. You simply headed to your room, locking the door behind you. You got into bed, wincing at the bruises now forming all over your skin. You cried. Letting the tears and tiredness take you to sleep. 

___ 

The morning was rough. You had called Laswell, informing her that you were unable to get to base that morning. She gave you immediate permission to work from home. You sighed. Getting up, you threw one of your signature baggy shirts that reached the middle of your thighs. Your eyes were puffy. You could see it in your bedroom mirror. The bruise on your wrist was bad but the one on your ribs was nasty. 

You made sure that your long sleeves hid the bruise. 

Your ears picking up sounds very unusual to your apartment made you frown. Multiple voices could be heard from the living room. 

You opened the door, curious. You could hear ghost's raspy voice. You also managed to hear captain price's. You walked to the living freezing at the entrance. Many eyes were now stuck on you. 

"Hum…" you tried. 

Ghost was the first to move, straightening himself as he scanned your body, wrist, down to your naked thighs. 

You blushed. You were a bit too underdressed suddenly. He was back after all. And he … had … guests? 

"Ah ! Miss sparrow!" Price smiled happily. 

His smile was so contagious you couldn't keep yourself from smiling back. 

"Good morning captain price" you answered with a smile.  

He walked to you, surprising you with a hug. A very suspicious hug as he barely squeezed you. It was more… testing the waters. As if, checking for any injuries. You still hugged him back. The rest of the men in the living room were still staring at you. They all had a giddy smile on their faces. 

"Here. Let me present to you the rest of the squad." He said, positioning himself behind you, hands on your shoulders. 

"This is sergeant John soap McTavish." He explained, pointing to the man with a mohawk. 

"Hi!" He greeted, the taint of a Scottish accent on his voice. 

"This is Kyle gaz Garrick."

The man with a cap stood and threw a wink at you. He sat down back down rather quickly for some reason. 

"And this is Colonel Alejandro Vargas. Not really part of the squad but he's here on permission for a month." 

The man stood walking to you, taking your hand delicately in his, dropping a kiss before smiling. 

"A pleasure." His voice tainted with an accent as well. 

You blushed. Sending a smile to everyone. 

"And gentlemen this is… sparrow." He said. 

He didn't have much more information to add so you did. 

"I'm a hacker. I work for the military but I was actually your enemy a few years ago… my code name is sparrow." 

The man with a mohawk, now Soap to you jumped at the information. Fear reached you, thinking that once more… this would be like sergeant Keller. 

"You're a hacker?! Fuck that's so cool!" 

You smiled, relieved. 

"We were going to have breakfast. Would you like to join us?" Price invited. 

"LT got muffins!" Soap added. 

You glanced at the man in a balaclava, eyes widening as you saw him stand against the counter, a black mug in hand. He… was using your gift. The realisation making something burn in you.

"Hum… sure." You answered, smiling at the men. 

Everyone answered at the same time a variation of happy words. Quickly interrupted by a very familiar raspy voice.

"She's going to change first."

Everyone turned to ghost.

"I..am?" You suddenly questioned his behavior. 

He walked up to you, price stepping back from you. 

"Sure, we'll wait. We'll prepare everything." Price said, with what seemed to be a signature smile on his lips. Ghost softly wrapped his fingers around your good wrist and positioned his palm at the small of your back, beckoning you to walk back to your bedroom with him. 

Once inside he closed the door behind him. You were still mad at him, even though it seemed to fade by the minute. You decided that pushing his buttons would make your point. 

"Why do I have to change? I don't want to change." You spoke, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He froze in place looking at you. You could feel his eyes traveling down your thighs. You blushed heavily. Without a single word he managed to answer. So you teased even more. A bitter feeling at the words. 

"I don't think your teammates are interested. And I don't think you'd care if they-" 

"Listen carefully." He threatened now closing in, trapping you between the desk and his body, hands on either side of your body. Slightly hunched over you to get to your eye level. 

"If Vargas looks at your thighs with that 'i want to fuck it' look again, I'm beating the fuck out of him in the living room." 

You gasped, eyes glued to him. Was he…jealous? 

"Now you do whatever you want." He said in a low voice. 

"Are you jealous…" you answered in a low voice. 

He flinched slightly. 

"No." He quickly answered. 

Of course not. Why did that thought ever cross your mind?

"Whatever… I have to get to base anyway…" you mumbled. 

"We'll take you." He said, moving back and taking a last glance at you before stepping out. 

You stood there confused for a few seconds. This man was unreadable. Terribly confusing. One moment he hated you, the other he threatened to beat up his friend because he was checking you out. You sighed, heading for your closet.

----

You were in the noisy car as you drove to the base with everyone. You had surprisingly spent a very pleasant morning with everyone, heading back to the base after lunch. You had to, unfortunately you needed to get back on the mission and you needed to be with the team for that. 

You weren't exactly excited to see Sergeant Keller. You just hoped you'd stay out of his radar. 

Arriving in the middle of the warehouses and building, ghost parked. Everyone jumped out of the vehicle, you following carefully trying to not wince. Ghost kept his eyes on you and it was hard hiding the injuries. 

"What time you done sparrow?" Soap asked. 

"Hum… don't really know…" you answered genuinely not knowing when you'd get out of the hell of a room you were about to get to. 

"We can wait for you, we all have time to lose." Gaz added. 

You were now incredibly sure ghost had somehow told them about the bruises he saw on your wrist. 

"I don't know…" you tried. 

"We'll wait. Text me when you're done." Ghost ordered. 

You looked at him, deliberately rolling your eyes at him before heading into the building. 

You could hear soap and gaz laughing before quickly shutting up. 

---

The hours flew by you, and you were pretty glad of that. You just wanted to go back home. You were also very glad that the mission was finally coming to an end. Your part would be over tonight, so you'd be far away from sergeant Keller. 

The clock showed 7pm. You watched everyone as they put away their stuff. Grabbing your phone, you texted ghost. 

-"I'm done. In case you actually waited…

- "Copy."

You rolled your eyes again. You were putting down your phone when another notification rang. 

"Of course I waited. We're out front."

You felt a ping in your heart. What was going on? Why was he so… protective all of a sudden? You stood up grabbing your things when a sharp pain to your ribs made you yelp. 

Turning around you saw Sergeant Keller behind you. The asshole had poked exactly where he had kicked you the day before. 

"You and I need to have a little talk." He threatened. 

You looked around. The room was empty. Fuck. And of course you were caged in between the table and him. The door to your right would be hardly attainable. 

"You really adore me don't you sergeant?"  you teased, a little shiver of anxiety running through you. 

"You have such a big mouth. Somebody ought to make you shut it." 

The slap across your faces stung. You had managed somehow to bite your lip in the process, little droplets of blood on your tongue. God damn it. 

"I literally didn't do shit this time Keller." You rang, rage slightly rushing through you. 

"You're right. Just thought I'd make you remember your place one last time. So you wouldn't go pretending to be part of the good guys again." 

"I AM part of the good guys for fucks sake!" You yelled. 

He grabbed your throat. Making you grab his wrist. 

"You think playing around with your little laptop after you were hunted down for multiple crimes makes you good? You think this is your redemption arc? Fucking idiot" 

You hissed as he pressed against your ribs again. He let go of your neck, now grabbing your bruised wrist and squeezing. You yelped in pain. Of course… using the already bruised parts not to add anymore evidence. 

"Fuck… stop Keller!" You yelled through gritted teeth. 

"Little bitch." He answered, a punch to your bruised ribs, this time making you cry out in pain, vision darkening at the intensity.

You barely heard him walk in. You didn't fully understand why Keller was thrown across the room. When the pain was finally slightly down you looked up, eyes widening at the sight. Ghost had Keller by the throat against the wall. He had apparently punched him already, as by the evident blood running down Keller's nose. 

"Ghost…" you tried. 

"Get out." He ordered. 

"What..?" You asked, shocked. 

"Soap and price are waiting. Get. Out!" He ordered, barking the last word. 

You flinched, but moved, hand over your ribs, running out. You heard Keller get punched one more time. 

Fuck fuck fuck. Your eyes stung with tears. Throwing open the heavy metal door, cold air biting at your skin, your eyes searched for price and soap. They were right in front, heads turning to you, instantly running as they saw the blood on your lip. 

"Sparrow!" Your heard soap. 

You breathed heavily. Ears slightly ringing. Price and soap stood next to you inspecting you. 

"Ghost…" you tried. 

"What?" Soap urged. 

"He's… he's beating up Keller… you got to stop him!" You yelled. 

Alejandro and gaz showed up running up to  price. Price cursed heavily. 

"Alejandro gaz! Stay with her, soap, with me!" He yelled. 

Soap and price rushed past you, as Alejandro and gaz surrounded you. 

"You're alright princess.." Alejandro said, a worried look on his face. 

"I'm fine… I'm fine… it's just a few scratches." You reassured. 

You turned around staring at the metal door. You were shivering. It was probably the cold… or probably the panic coursing through you. You were so thankful that he had shown up. But you were extremely worried about the trouble he was going to get into because of you. 

"Come on.. sparrow get in the car." Gaz asked. 

"N-no… I… ghost " you stumbled over your words. 

"He's coming back, don't worry. Price and soap are with him." Alejandro tried. 

"No!" A whimper escaped your lips. 

Your brain was a fuzz. You didn't know exactly what you were feeling. Any anger towards him had vanished. You were worried, you needed to see him. 

"Come on Sparrow, we're taking you home." 

You shook your head, making you even dizzier than you already were. 

"We'll bring him back, we promise." Gaz assured. 

You took a deep breath finally following them into the car. Tears fell down your cheeks, the cold hair had helped them turn your cheeks red. 

You glanced one last time towards the door before Alejandro and gaz drove out. 

Tags: 

@lemontails @cabreezer0117 @tomhardy41 @brxghtixghtz @shuttlelauncher81 @pinkdazelight @sirenbunnylol @snortangeldust @novausstufff @gasstationfifacard @emotion-not-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @simpforavillain @minimisthios @catied32 @poohkie90 @watermaylon-writes @thereealink @meimhem @sorryi-mtrash @gaymistakeboi @bittersw33t-lotus @gh0stm3g @freckledmuffin @itsasecrets-things @xback1021 @connierk690 @feedthefandoms995 @friendlyneighboorhoodgothicpagan @dead-noodles @friendly-reject @critter-mylo

#price cod #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #gaz cod #alejandro mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #simon ghost riley smut #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost smut #lieutenant ghost #captain price #john price #alejandro vargas #fanfics #fanfiction #ghost mw2

[retrosabers]

𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐒.

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: sometimes you and eddie’s banter can take a bit of a turn

warnings: allusions to smut, swearing

word count: 1.3k

a/n: this is a very small little something to ease myself back into writing. let me know if you would be interested in a second part! :)

“cut the shit munson.” you spit from your place at the other end of the drama room. “you don’t intimidate me.”

eddie laughs, a cynical sound that rumbles from deep within his chest. the boy smirks, and you have to fight the urge to jump across the table and smack him.

“oh really?” he leans back in his throne, spreading his legs wide. “then why are you standing all the way over there?”

you roll your eyes, poking your tongue into your cheek. his arrogance was unyielding, and it seemed especially true when he was in his element like this. eddie was always one for theatrics, even more so after a session of his beloved dungeons and dragons.

it was so irritating.

eddie cocks his head to the side, eyeing you in a condescending way. with a narrowing gaze, you slowly saunter over to his seat, eyes never leaving his. the smirk on his face intensifies. like he had you right where he wanted.

there’s always been a cat and mouse game between you and eddie. a competition to see who could push each other’s buttons the most. your friends nagged you both about the tension that so obviously lingered in the air, but you could never tell if it was from a growing dislike, or just the opposite.

whether eddie was a thorn in your side or the apple of your eye, you would never give him the satisfaction of letting him win. ever. especially in this moment.

the boy props his foot against the edge of the table, and pushes it back. the squeaking sound startles your ears, and eddie can’t help but be amused at the way you flinch. you gracefully slip past him and lean against the table’s edge. you’re situated right between his legs with a sharpness in your eyes that makes his head spin.

“i don’t have all night eddie.” you say with a bit more venom than intended. it was a long and stressful day, and you had been running around campus like a maniac looking for your chemistry notes only to find out the biggest pain in your ass had stolen them after first period.

“relax princess,” he reassures with mock concern. the pet name sets your skin ablaze and he takes note of the way your fists curl around the table’s edge when he says it. “got it right here.”

he reaches behind him for the worn out red notebook.

you scoff. “funny how you would steal my notes for the one class you and i both know you’re not gonna pass.”

he dramatically places his hands over his heart, your notebook pressed against the logo of his hellfire shirt.

“ouch. you’re killing me over here.”

“a girl can dream,” you quip back, lunging to grab your notes so you can just go home. of course, he’s quicker than you, and tosses the journal back onto the table right as you swing foward.

you lose your balance and quickly brace yourself on the arms of the throne. you glance up and find the darkest of chocolate brown eyes boring into yours. your breath hitches in your throat involuntarily, causing eddie to break out a shit eating grin.

“so you do dream about me.” he replies with a cockiness that’s surprising even for him. you’re close enough that you can smell the faint aroma of tobacco on his breath and you can really see the length of his lashes. god, why was eddie munson so pretty? the realization makes your stomach flutter, churning with a feeling that’s never been associated with him before.

but then you remember that it’s eddie, and eddie’s only trying to see you cave before he does. you’re the only person he can rile up like nobody’s business and the feeling is more than mutual. you’ve got each other in equally vulnerable positions; it’s just a matter of who’s facade is going to crack first.

“you’re right.” you admit, your voice far more sheepish than he’s ever heard. it’s bordering submissive, something eddie’s not sure anyone has ever seen from you before. the notion goes straight to his crotch.

the corner of his mouth twitches. it eggs you on.

“i dream about you a lot.” your voice is barely above a whisper as you lean in even closer, palms planted firmly on either side of eddie. a cage of sorts that he’s seemingly fine with being trapped in.

you notice the way he’s fully leaning back now, removing his arms from beside yours to tuck them behind his head. it gives you a peak of some of his other tattoos, and a new angle of his biceps that will likely be the subject of your thoughts for the rest of the day.

“oh yeah?” he asks, voice an octave lower than before. “tell me about it.”

you tug your bottom lip between your teeth and eddie has to fight the urge to close the gap. your lips are nearly touching, hot breath fanning over each other’s cheeks as you feign innocence.

“we’re always in bed.” you continue, eyes flicking over eddie’s form. you can see the way he’s breathing a little faster, and you can definitely see the tent forming in his jeans. you look back up at his eyes and his pupils are nearly black.

you boldly dance your fingers up his torso. “sometimes you’re on top, sometimes i am.”

eddie prays you miss the way his cock twitches at the thought. he doesn’t want to imagine the ridicule he would face if your friends found out. it’s exactly what you’re aiming for.

in an effort to get his mojo back, he gently cups your jaw, tracing the outline of your cupid’s bow with his thumb. he moves it down to pull back your bottom lip, watching with intent eyes as the plush flesh snaps back into place.

heat pools between your legs, threatening to put a crack in your plan that’s very clearly working. but god, there’s such a satisfaction at watching eddie be wrapped around your finger, so entranced by whatever your next move is. you’ve gotta keep the upper hand.

“the best part though” you tease with a wicked grin, ghosting your lips over his.

eddie hums. he raises his brows defiantly, like he’s daring you to confess that you’ve been thinking about him the way he thinks about you. he doesn’t care if this is some stupid fucking back and forth. he wants to hear you say it.

when your hand trails back down and brushes over his crotch, he nearly loses it. you lean in beside his ear, offering a low sultry whisper. the boy’s eyes flutter shut, preparing for whatever’s coming next.

“is when i get to stick a pillow over your face.”

his eyes shoot back open in an instant.

you look like the cat who caught the canary. a devious, cheshire-like smile on your face as you slowly back away from him with your notebook in hand.

“smooth,” he deadpans, folding his arms over his chest in an attempt to distract from the now very obvious boner he has.

“sorry, sweetheart,” you mock him, returning to your original place at the other end of the room. “i’ve gotta fly.”

in a bold move, he asks, “does this mean i should swipe your stuff more often?”

your bravado falters for a moment at his question. then, it returns tenfold.

“you’re gonna have to find out.”

you saunter out of the drama room with a teasing salute, picking up your bag from it’s place by the door. eddie, flustered yet scorned, laughs out into the empty room. the sound reverberates off the walls and the empty soda cans still scattered on the table.

two can play at this game. you may have won this round, but there was plenty more coming .

he was so going to get you back.

thanks for reading! <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic rec #hellfire club #stranger things #stranger things fics #joseph quinn #writing

[gojhoes]

Bleed Me Dry

*art from nerdreamer | *divider from benkeibearnever written anything like this before but yolo (also this art is PHENOMENAL)

- contents: sfw, college au, no jujutsu sorcerers/cursed spirits au, jumping on the vampire au train, gojo x reader (ofc), fem!reader, characters in their early 20s, mutual pining - warnings: stalking, bodily fluids, drugs and alcohol. - wc: ~4.3k

Have you ever met someone and felt that you knew them in the past life?

You'd never much cared for religion, nor did you think much about the possibility of an afterlife. There were too many denominations for a single one to be correct. Not at all worth the millennia of wars waged in the name of someone's God. How was a god supposed to be benevolent and holy when they inspire such violence? Yes, you were a cynic through and through, remaining skeptical of all things damned and divine.

But then you met Satoru Gojo, and all that stubborn disbelief fell to pieces.

It was the weekend before the beginning of your final year of college. You'd been dragged along to some party being thrown by a friend-of-a-friend's-friend to kick off the start of the semester. Shoko, your roommate and impromptu best friend, was crushing hard on one of the boys in some club of hers, and she'd asked you to join her as moral support.

Just like the venue, the party itself was nothing special. In someone's parents' house that was already well on its way to being trashed, the room smelled of marijuana and faintly of unpleasantly scented air freshener. You recognized a few people, as the university that you attended was a rather small private technical school. Everybody seemed to know everybody even if you considered yourself an introvert.

You and Shoko found yourselves sitting around a card table with several others amid a very serious drinking game. Shoko was trying her best, but the poor girl was already three shots in while you sat back and observed.

"Aren't you going to talk to him?" you encouraged, following Shoko's line of sight until it landed on a tall blonde leaning against the wall. He was good-looking with his broad shoulders and neatly groomed hair that complemented the glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose. You could easily see why Shoko was interested in him.

"He's tall," you commented.

Shoko was beaming, her eyes practically heart-shaped while she talked about him. "He goes by Nanami- we were in the same research group last semester. And he plays rugby."

Shoko was a Microbio major carving her path to medical school. If this mystery classmate took the same courses as her, then he must've been smarter than you'd originally given him credit for.

You grinned mischievously. “Go,” you said.

She gaped at you, her brown eyes wide with fear. “I can’t!”

You pushed her bodily with your hand on her back, urging her to go to talk to this Nanami. She stumbled a bit, already tipsy, and shot you a glare.

“Go," you insisted. "I'm going to find food.”

Ignoring Shoko's frustrated groan, you trickled over to the kitchen adjacent to the living room. You couldn't deny that you were bored, but leaving simply was not an option with how obsessed Shoko was with this guy. The kitchen was void of people, but someone had mercifully left out a fruit tray that appeared untouched in comparison to the picked-over coolers of beer. Working as a bartender had diminished your cravings for the stuff, so you avoided it wholly.

Just as you turned to re-enter the living room, you slammed right into something solid, a person, and let out a yelp. Your plate fell to the ground, the carefully chosen grapes bouncing in a thousand different directions. To your dismay, a good portion of them rolled underneath the fridge, out of reach and surely to rot later.

"Shit- I'm so sorry!" you cried, ducking down to immediately retrieve your fallen mess.

The victim of your attack kneeled beside you to help, which was a kind gesture, but it only helped to embarrass you further. You glanced up to apologize again, silently regretting every choice you'd made in your life thus far.

"You didn't have to-"

But the words stopped dead in your throat. Your victim was beautiful, breathtakingly so. Crystalline blue eyes that met yours, snow white hair brushing just above matching eyebrows. Ivory skin and pink lips that looked so soft and perfect it made your mouth go dry.

And then he smiled. "It's okay- I move quietly." He dropped a grape onto the half-crushed plate in your hand while you forced yourself to rise back to your full height. He followed suit, towering over you so much that you had to tilt your head to view his face.

But it wasn’t just his striking features that threw you so much- it was the familiarity, the nostalgia that flowed through you when you properly looked at him. In the moments that followed, you were able only to stare while you tried to recall just where you'd seen him before.

"Oh," he said, plucking the plate from your grasp. He turned and reached behind him to toss it into the trash with ease. His periwinkle button-up stretched across the expanse of his shoulders as he did so. You made yourself look away.

"Um," you cleared your throat. "Thanks."

He chuckled at that and extended his hand for you to shake. You couldn’t help but to notice the delicate nature of his long, pale fingers, reminding you much of a pianist’s. Your hands connected in the briefest handshake you’d ever participated in. His touch was cold, so much so that you couldn’t help but to jerk your hand away when the skin made contact.

Your eyes flicked up to his, illuminated blue in the dim light of the kitchen. You blinked as he held your gaze steadily, unable to shake that feeling that you’d seen him before. You were aware that you were staring at this point, but you were determined to recall this man's identity.

"Satoru," he said greeting. Not familiar, you thought.

You relayed your own name before asking, "Do I know you?"

Satoru tilted his head to the side, smirking as though he was in on some joke that you wouldn’t get. “I never forget a face, and I certainly wouldn’t forget yours.”

Even though the comment made you blush, you hummed. “Smooth. But seriously, weren't you in Dr. Kusakabe's organic chem class, like, last spring?"

"I can assure you that I have never seen you before," Satoru insisted. "Are you sure you just haven't been drinking too much?"

You scoffed at the accusation, a small smile tugging at your lips from his teasing. "No, I haven't been drinking, thank you very much. Somebody's got to keep my friend alive."

You glanced back at the fruit tray and immediately thought of those stupid grapes. "Do you see a broom anywhere?"

"I'm afraid those poor grapes are forever lost," Satoru said mournfully.

You let out a melodramatic sigh, smiling a little when you met his gaze once more.

His lashes fluttered, and then you saw him stiffen as though something suddenly pained him. Small, clammy hands landed on your bare shoulders, and you started, though you knew exactly who the offender was.

“Why are you hiding from me?” Shoko whined, her words slurring.

You pried her hands from your shoulders and peered down at her. She was swaying a little and the smell of liquor on her breath was all but apparent. You suddenly remembered your forgotten promise that you’d stick with her throughout the night, feeling a little guilty at the pouty expression on her face.

“Sorry, Shoko,” you said. “I was just looking for a snack.”

Shoko noticed Satoru then, who had taken a full step away while his fingers fluttered wildly by his side. So peculiar, you thought.

"Oh-" she hiccupped. "Hiii. I didn't see that she was talking to you."

Satoru didn’t reach out to shake her hand, you noticed, opting only to nod his head in greeting as he smiled in a way that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“No trouble,” he said fluidly. He then fixated his gaze back to yours, “If you’ll excuse me.”

He stepped out of the kitchen, and at least Shoko waited until he'd walked away to ask, "who was that?"

You shook your head as you watched him disappear into the throng of people scattered about the living room, stopping only when his white locks were no longer visible.

"Satoru."

The next week was spent with thoughts of Satoru scratching at the back of your head. During study breaks, you’d rack your brain trying to figure out where the fuck you knew him from. You were sure that you’d met him in the past; maybe he had been an elementary classmate? Maybe he worked at one of the local grocery stores or the café down the street? The possibilities were endless, but still, the mental search persisted. He even appeared in your dream the very night of the party, standing tall and fair with his back toward you.

Friday night was arguably the busiest at the bar. It was a flurry of drink orders, checking IDs, and straining to hear customers over the cacophony of voices. But you preferred the busy evening shifts– the bustle made the time fly. And it occupied your mind in a way that kept you from thinking about everything else, at least temporarily.

But after the last call for alcohol, a lull finally fell into place, and you began with your housekeeping tasks. Small things such as wiping down the bar and prepping garnishes and the like. Mentally, you’d already clocked out and were at home watching the new episode of your favorite anime. You were distracted, not all the way present, and you had your back to the bar. That’s why you were startled when you turned around to see that Satoru had materialized on the other side.

You flinched and your eyes went wide as your hand flew to your chest as if to steady yourself. “Oh sh– hey, it’s you! You scared me.”

Satoru raised his hands and grinned wickedly. “Boo.”

Never mind that he hadn’t been anywhere near the bar in the five seconds it’d taken you to do a 360. But your heart rate returned to normal, and you drank in his appearance. Still gorgeous, even in the bar’s poor lighting. He wore a collarless black sweater with sleeves that were too long even for him, and a pair of gray slacks. The neutral tones made his blue eyes appear even brighter, seeming almost to glow.

“Aren’t you going to order something?” you asked teasingly. “It’s past last call, but I’m sure I can make an exception.”

Satoru purred, maintaining that wicked smile from before. “You’re too kind to me.”

“Please, I insist.” You cupped your hands around your mouth and leaned over the bar so that your fingers just barely were brushing the shell of his ear.

“It’s on the house,” you faux-whispered, trying to ignore the way his hair tickled your skin for the briefest of moments before you pulled away.

He swallowed, the first sign of hesitation you’d seen since meeting him. Not that you knew him well, but he otherwise moved so confidently and with such intention that the gesture seemed out of place on him.

“I’m afraid I don’t drink.”

“I can make you something virgin,” you urged, wiggling your eyebrows. You were being unnecessarily insistent, pushing a little hard, but you felt this inexplicable urge to impress him. To serve him...? It was your job, after all, to make drinks that people would enjoy.

And then he replied, his voice firm but not unkind, “I have to decline, but I deeply appreciate your offer.”

You sighed and made a point of overdramatizing your disappointment. “Some other time, then. I’ll get you something good to drink, just you wait.”

An unnamable expression flashed over his features, quickly replaced by another disarming smile. You weren’t sure if it was the dim lighting of the bar, but his pallor seemed more translucent than before, the color blending in with his pale hair. His eyes were nearly glowing, nearly burning and you found yourself trying to differentiate all the shades of blue within his irises before he cleared his throat, and you realized you had been staring.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, cursing the blush that crept high on your cheeks. “I just.. I swear that I’ve seen you before somewhere. It’s kind of driving me crazy.”

Satoru tilted his head in question, a mannerism of his that you’d picked up on. “Is that right?”

Okay, you were definitely into this guy, no doubt about it. How could you not be? He was insanely, unfairly attractive, and though you’d just met (SUPPOSEDLY), you couldn’t help but to feel that you were connected to him in some way. That was a scary thought, one you shoved down before it could fester along with your other delusions.

The bar where you worked was close to campus and being part of a chain, its main demographic for business was students. It was a simple coincidence for Satoru to be there. Maybe that’s where you knew him from- it wasn’t a total impossibility; you'd served thousands of people since starting there.

“When are you off?”

You glanced down at the small watch face adorning your wrist, pretending to squint as anxiety slithered into your gut. Guys had asked you that same question in the past after mistaking good bartending for flirting. Satoru was charming, but he was still a stranger, and it was already well past 2am. But something about him pulled trust out of you like it was nothing. Like he was luring you in, a moth drawn to a flame.

“30 minutes,” you replied truthfully. “Maybe longer, depending on the crowd.”

"I want to take you to a cafe down the street," he said. "It's open all night, and I'm sure you must be starving after such a long shift."

Your stomach tattled on you before you got the chance to respond, growling loudly at the prospect of eating- you'd neglected to do so before coming in almost eight hours ago.

“I couldn't impose-”

He smiled at you as your words trailed off, and that voice in your head telling you to be careful was far too distant as you felt your resolve falter. “I insist.”

So at exactly three o'clock, standing with his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the wall was Satoru. He lifted his head when he heard the door open, smiling once he realized that it was you. You'd be a fool to deny how pretty he was when he looked at you like that.

“Shall we?” you said once you were standing at his side.

“Of course. It’s only a block or two.”

You turned to your right, moving to take the first step of many, when a large hand wrapped itself around your wrist. It couldn't have been colder than 60 degrees Fahrenheit, but even through your sleeve, you could feel the frigid cold of his fingers. You gasped at the sudden touch, flicking your eyes up to his, which were likely wide with alarm.

“Ah, ah,” Satoru said, releasing you from his grasp. “This way.”

You tried not to let show how freaked out that made you, blaming it on how quickly he’d moved to stop you. But he carried on nonchalantly as though it was something he did with everyone- perhaps, he did, if you thought about it. You focused only on following him dutifully and nothing else as he led the way.

"Do you always work nights?" he asked, breaking through the buzz of your overthinking.

You nodded, grateful for him breaking the silence. "My roommate says I'm crazy, but I prefer it. I take classes in the evenings, too, so I'm usually sleeping during the day."

Satoru held the door for you, gesturing widely as you passed over the threshold. You plucked a menu from the pocket by the door, vaguely recognizing the restaurant's logo; it was a simplified portrait of a dryad.

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “I feel like I’ve been here before. Maybe in high school…”

Satoru chuckled. “It’s only been open for about a year. Maybe you should get those false memories checked out.”

"Ha-ha."

You could feel his eyes on the back of your head like two pinpricks of ultraviolet light as you escorted yourself to an open table. He slid gracefully into the booth across from you, folding his legs in a way that couldn't be comfortable under the too-short table. You laid the menu flat as you peered over it.

"What's good here?" you asked.

Swiftly, he replied, "Everything. Plus, you can never go wrong with chicken tenders."

"This is true."

You decided on a ham and Emmental baguette and a glass of cherry juice -they actually had it!-, opting to keep it simple. You noticed that Satoru hadn't grabbed a menu himself, but thought better than to comment on it. Besides, who were you to pry into the specifics of someone else's eating habits?

You slipped the straw dipped in your drink between two fingers, toying with it nervously. "So, what year are you?"

"Ah, I just graduated," Satoru replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "And you're a senior, right?"

Your eyebrows knit together as you tilted your head to the side just slightly. "How'd you know?"

Satoru didn't miss a beat. "You had that look about you at the party. And since you're old enough to bartend, I filled in the blanks."

When he put it that way, the logic seemed sound enough for you to safely dismiss it without a second thought.

"Quite the sleuth, are you?" you teased.

Satoru chuckled breathily. Before either of you could ask any more questions, your food magically appeared before you. Neither of you had indicated that this was a date, but you still wanted to at least try and appear well-mannered, so you ignored the urge to fall upon the sandwich.

"Are you sure you don't want some?" you asked, holding the half out to him.

Satoru raised a hand. "No, thank you, I ate not too long ago. Please, go on."

"I just feel bad."

But you figured it would be more rude to continue pestering him, so you decided just to suck it up and eat. You were starving anyway. You sunk your teeth into the sandwich, but you misjudged the force necessary to bite through the thick bread. Sharp pain lanced through your tongue and a familiar tanginess flooded your mouth.

"Fuck," you muttered. "Bit my tongue."

As politely as you could, you brought a napkin to your mouth and spit into it before folding it neatly to hide the blood. “Sorry.”

Satoru's eyes had grown wide as he stared down at the napkin. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and you suddenly grew more embarrassed. Had you really grossed him out that much? It was just a little blood and it wasn't exactly a Michelin star restaurant.

But as though you imagined it, that discomfort morphed into a smile so radiant you forgot he'd been unsettled in the first place. The bleeding stopped, thankfully, and you slowly but steadily made your way through the sandwich. While you ate, you and Satoru passed questions and answers back and forth like a badminton game.

He'd declined your offer to make him a drink and was refusing to eat anything now, but you thought little of it until you watched as he took the smallest sip from his glass of water. He made a face as though it tasted utterly foul. It was city water, after all, but he looked physically unwell after setting the glass back on the table.

“Are you okay?” you asked. “You look a little pale.”

He shook his head, making the stands of his white hair bounce comically. “Just tired. I didn’t expect to be out so late.”

You couldn’t deny the little stab of disappointment that shot through you, though your watch did read a quarter-to-four. Sure, you were off tomorrow, but that didn't mean that Satoru wasn't.

“Oh,” you said. “Well, I’m ready anytime, then.”

The second you place your dishes at the end of the table, Satoru sprung out of his spot in the booth and started for the door. His height must've been the reason he moved so fast, and you had to scramble out of the booth and run to catch up with him. You grabbed your coat from the rack and shrugged it on before following him through the door.

You turned to look at Satoru to somehow gauge the state of his wellbeing, only to catch him staring at you with stormy eyes and parted lips. Weren't you going to ask him something? But then he blinked away the intensity you'd seen, a placid expression replacing it instantly.

“One second," Satoru quickly added. “Wait here.”

He bolted back inside like a bullet from a gun, furiously jangling the bunch of bells that hung above the inside of the door. So, you waited, poking your head through the window to see just what he was doing. He was standing over the table where you'd both been seated just a minute before, but you couldn't see much more than that. He must've forgotten something, or maybe he just wanted to give his compliments to the chef- or something.

"Forgot my wallet," he said in explanation once he'd joined you at your spot by the curb. You nodded as he confirmed your first theory.

Satoru had both of his hands shoved into his pockets precariously as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. It seemed childish at first, but that quickly turned to endearment when you realized that he was nervous. "Would you want to do this again sometime?"

You smiled at him, touched by how sweetly he'd worded the question. You reached out to touch him in some way so he knew your next words were sincere, but he stood in a way that would've made it painfully awkward to do so, so you let your arm fall limp at your side.

"If you ever want to grab a bite, I'll be awake." you answered before the two of you parted ways for good.

All you knew was that you wanted to see him again, wanted to see this strange man you'd met by chance and break past his walls and excessive smiles. And you wanted him to tell you where you'd seen him before- maybe you were delusional, but you had an inkling that he knew exactly what you'd been talking about.

What you didn't know was that Satoru had followed you for the entirety of your walk home, slipping in and out of the shadows as he debated whether to reach for you. Sitting across from you in the booth had been torturous, especially once you'd bitten your tongue. The napkin that now sat in his pocket seemed to burn a hole straight through to the bone. Any of your blood would have long since dried, but it was yours, and for now, it would have to do.

His hand hovered over the doorknob- hadn't anyone taught you to always lock your door? He heard you shuffling around inside, the clinking of drinking glasses and silverware being put away. The mundanity of you tidying your kitchen was a slap in his face. You were still living, still warm-bodied and radiant. Not cursed, as he was, with a full life ahead of you that would end peacefully. There would come a day when you would close your eyes and they would not again open. It would be completely and utterly selfish of him to do something as stupid as tampering with something as precious as your life.

But the urge persisted, as it had for months, inspiring the most selfish ideals he’d ever before been plagued with. And that selfishness was what made him believe that he truly was a monster deserving of his fate. That selfishness made him into who he was.

If he'd never seen you that night just a few short months before, he would've long since left this forsaken city. He wouldn't be trapped here by the longing he felt for you. He wouldn't be such a damned mess, going to parties and putting himself directly into situations he should be avoiding at all costs. All the lies and the hiding started to add up after a while; soon he’d be so deeply intwined in a wreck of a story that would be too much to keep up with. He’d slip up eventually; he always did.

The party had been the absolute last straw. Suguru had advised him not to go, but Satoru was a social creature, and he still enjoyed bantering and foolishness as he had during his waking life. And as was commonplace as of late, anywhere you went, so would Satoru, because that's just the type he was.

He had not planned on getting as close as he did though. Quite literally, you’d been on top of him even if it was for only a second. But it had been enough to break through the delicate semblance of control he’d had hanging by a thread. The sheer pleasure he got from your scent alone was something he’d learned he needed; it was more than a want. Even now, the bits of you he could pick up on through the door had some kind of trancelike effect on him.

But as Satoru turned his back to your apartment, fists clenched by his sides from the sheer amount of effort it took, he admitted to himself that Suguru had been right. He shouldn't have gone, because it sealed the fact that his every moment would be consumed by thoughts of you.

Confession: I ship Shoko and Nanami SO HARD. They're both water signs, too. I love symbolism and foreshadowing more than anything else in this world.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #modern au #college au #vampire au #gojo headcanons #gojo x reader fluff #gojo fluff #nanami kento #shoko ieiri #suguru geto #gojo x you

[fandom-chic]

Please Please Please: Chapter 5

Summary: Y/N is only a child when she and Tommy Shelby meet. The two quickly become best friends as they grow up in Small Heath. As the years go by, Y/N and Tommy realize there may be more to their friendship than they originally thought.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N

Previous chapter

The front door opened with a creak and a groan. Y/N flinched at the noise, hoping her parents would be able to sleep through it. As she poked her head into the living room, she saw darkness. Letting out a deep breath, she entered her home. After the night she had, she knew she had to go straight to bed and sleep off whatever remnants of Tommy were left on her body.

"Have a fun night?" She jumped, whipping her head to where the voice came from. Her father lowered his book from his eyes, giving her a knowing glance as a small candle illuminated his face. In her tipsy state, her tunnel vision didn’t seem to register her father’s favorite reading chair.

"Yep," she said curtly. "Wonderful." She shut the door behind her and let her feet speed toward her bedroom.

"You're back late." It wasn’t a question, more of a statement. She stopped her stride, looking back toward her father.

"Dinner ran long," she said, trying not to let him interpret the late arrival as anything else. Her father let out a humph, he knew she was lying.

"Very long it seems," he said, putting his book on the side table. "I’ll make you tea." At that, she knew she wouldn't be able to escape whatever conversation was coming. She followed him to the kitchen. She watched as he placed the kettle on the stove top and lit it. Her father sat down at the kitchen table, motioning for her to join him. They sat together, waiting for the water to boil. She could feel his eyes on her as she pretended that she was alone in that kitchen, but that seemed impossible.

“I saw Tommy tonight,” She turned to look at her father. She could see him nod slowly, moving his gaze back to the stove.

“I’m sure James didn’t love that.” She let out a sarcastic snort.

“No he did not,” Her eyes went down to her hands as she began to fiddle with them, “I don’t think I will be seeing him anymore.”

Her father shrugs, “If that’s what you want.” 

“Mother won’t be happy,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes on her fingers.

“So what,” Her father said. She regarded him as he looked at his daughter, giving her a smile. She returns his smile. The water began to boil and her father rose from his seat, grabbing two mugs and tea bags, and began pouring the hot water into the cups. “How’s Tommy?” he asked. She knew it was a question that was burning through the room, one that caused nerves to burn in her stomach. 

“He’s,” she hesitated, thinking of how to word it. She let her mind wander as the night flickered before her eyes, “amazing. It truly was a wonderful night.” Father looked toward her, a soft smile on his wrinkled face. He brought the mugs to the table, sitting down beside Y/N.

“I’m glad you two have made up,” he said, taking a sip. 

“Me too,” she said. Her father could see the sparkle in her eye as she continued to look off. He couldn’t help but notice the way his daughter seemed to be a light in the darkness of the kitchen. Her attention went back to her father as he raised his eyebrows at her. 

“I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.” She felt a blush rise to her cheeks.

“Well,” she blew on the piping hot drink, “it was amazing until it wasn’t.” She waited for her father to question her but all he did was maintain his cynically raised eyebrows at his daughter. 

“I kissed him and then…” Her words seemed to get lost in her throat, almost as if they knew if they were said aloud, they might be true. But they had to be said, “he left.” She placed the drink down and let her hands lace through her hair. Now is when the shame began to set in. “I feel like such an idiot. He’s my best friend and now… I don’t know.” She heard a similar clink as her father set his teacup down on the table. Then a surprising sound echoed through the room, a chuckle. She tilted her head toward her father as a smile tickled his lips.

“I can say, I’m surprised it took this long.” Now was her turn to raise an eyebrow at her father.

“Why do you say that?”

She hears a snort, “You kids have been inseparable for years, something was bound to happen.”

“Inseparable doesn’t mean anything,” she said, “Besides, I don’t know what any of this means. Let's just call it a moment of weakness that we can forget about.” She waved her hand at her father before picking up her tea again and giving it a sip. 

“To be frank, I don’t believe Tommy will be forgetting about this,” he said, a small smile on his face.

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

“Y/N, did I ever tell you about the night of your first date with George Milton?” She tilted her head at her father in confusion.

“No, besides, what do you know about that night? You were home the whole time.”

“I was,” he said, “so I got to see some things that may surprise you.” She stared at her father as he picked back up his teacup. “While you were getting ready that day, I was in the yard taking care of the peonies. You know how they get during the spring, they grow all over the yard. Speaking of that, remind me to ask your mother how she would-”

“Father,” she interjected.

“Right, sorry,” he said, snickering to himself, “I was so caught up in the gardening I hardly noticed Tommy standing on the steps to the house. You know how that boy can get, so serious about nothing at all. He was muttering something to himself and staring at his shoes. I put my tools down and, since there was nothing better to do, I decided to see what the boy was saying. It was quite sweet to say the least but not unexpected.” 

He took another sip of his tea as Y/N leaned closer to her father, trying to take all his words in. “All I caught was, ‘Since we were young I have wanted you to be mine’ before the door swung open. You and George were about to leave to wherever you were off to. I think Tommy knew that too and instead of saying anything, he just said he was there to see if you wanted to go horseback riding.” 

Father placed the cup back on the table, staring at Y/N. “Watching that boy watch you walk away broke my heart. He sat on the steps for a few minutes before heading back to his house. From that day on, I knew.” 

“Knew what?” She whispered.

“That boy has been in love with you since he met you.” That was when she felt the ceramic of her mug slip out of her hands and shatter on the floor. “Shit!” she mumbled to herself as she ran over to fetch the broom and dustpan. She got on her hands and knees, cleaning the shards off the floor. She cleaned in silence as everything sunk in. As soon as they did, she sat up letting the dust pan clatter on the floor.

“Tommy’s in love with me,” she said. Her father nodded at her. 

“He has always been.” Her mind wandered off to the nights beneath the stars, the horseback rides through the countryside and the cool summers by the lake. It all made sense. The touches, the glances, the smiles. He loved her. He loved her so much. 

She stood up and turned to her father, “I have to go.” Before she could get a response, she was running out of the kitchen, out the door and down the street. She let her legs take her to the Shelby residence. Her fist began to pound on the door, not caring that it was 2:00 AM. It was only a few knocks before a familiar face answered the door. A face she would never tire of seeing. His blue eyes looked exhausted and surprised.

“Y/N”, he said, “what are you doing here?” His words slurred as the smell of alcohol permeated off his skin. 

“Tommy, are you in love with me?” The words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them. 

This seemed to wake him up. His eyes widened and his mouth opened as if he was about to say something, but she stopped him before she could. She wasn’t sure if the next part could come out if he interjected.

“Because, I’ve been in love with you since I met you.” There was a beat before he pulled her to him.

Next chapter

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