#but i wish a very fuck you to anyone trying to shove their pairing down others' people throats get out

[ishikawayukis]

gonna pull a gun to any satosugu shippers that gets mad and "don't trust" when other people don't ship them as well like shit man sorry i think their relationship is more powerful when it's platonic!!

[stardustlixie]

hyunjin, the heartthrob

[pairing: fem!dom!reader x sub!hyunjin]

[warnings: smut, degradation (like a lot), mean reader, lowkey pathetic hyunjin, dumbassery, confusion about feelings, angry sex (kinda?), unprotected penetration (don't do this), choking, hair pulling, bondage, cunnilingus, light slapping (like twice)]

[REPOST FROM MY DELETED SMUT BLOG]

[author's note: i can't do this anymore, the grip he has on my brain is insane. this is kinda weird?? read at your own risk lmao, not responsible for the brain damage, pt.2 might be written?]

hyunjin as the type of guy to be the uni heartthrob annoying you for no apparent reason. he keeps following you around, trying to talk to you, even tho your replies make it quite clear that you want him gone. you're the quiet, scary and academic type and he's the loud, funny and popular type. the entire campus questions why he's following someone like you around, but they're afraid of saying anything because his friends always keeping lurking, glaring down anyone who tries to question him.

even tho his friend group looks quite intimidating in the distance, they're just a bunch of dorks. and so is he. but with a massive crush on you. he finds you quite scary tho, your almost neutral expression and no bullshit attitude intimidating most people that come your way. he saw just a glimpse of your kindness once, when you baby-talked to your friend's cat, he almost lost it. but he mostly sees your other side, the undefeatable one that shows in the debates in your sociology class that he sneaks in to watch, the mean one that you once used to make someone cry when they targeted your bestfriend.

he gets off to that meaner side of you, that's his dirty little fantasy. he wants to be degraded by that side and be used for your amusement while he's unable to do something to help himself, and your softer side to soothe him afterwards.

but that just stays a fantasy.

until..

you're in the library one weekend, just to return some books and pick up new ones for your research, you walk out to the corridors to see none other, than hwang fucking hyunjin. he wasn't expecting to see you there, but he bursts into a smile, pulling his attention from whatever he had in his hands.

"hey, yn!" he waves at you, you shove your stuff into your bag and walk the opposite of his direction, also opposite to where you need to go. you can't do this right now.

it's not like you hate him, you think he's cute, you're beginning to get used to him following you, maybe you'd even give him a chance on a good day. but your day has been shitty enough as is. you can't bring yourself to interact with him just now.

"heyy, you didn't wave back." he jogs up to you and starts walking alongside you. oh how you wish he'd just be his own way for once.

he doesn't like your lack of reaction. you're not even sparing him a glace!

"come ooonnn, stop ignoring me!" he pouts at you with a whine all too dramatic.

"leave me alone, hyunjin" you hiss at him. you really don't wanna say something worse, but it's like he trying to........ provoke you? he's being much more pushy than he usually is, and there's no one in the corridors on a godddam weekend and you're very fucking close to snapping.

"ynnn!! pay attention to me!" he whines again, really wanting to provoke you. he's not blind, he notices you're not in a mood to be messed with. but a tiny, little parts of him wants to push you further, to maybe make you snap at him.

and when he crosses the line and touches your waist, you do.

you snap.

pushing him to nearest wall with some force, drawing his breath out of his lungs. you pin him there and your anger flows out, in sharp, hurtful words.

"the fuck do you think you were doing? what makes you think you can touch me? is this another dare from your group of fuckboys? or are you just a little attention whore who thinks he's entitled to everyone?"

you didn't mean a word you said, your anger was making up stuff on it's own, but he was flushed, a wild red on his face, that's when your gaze dropped to the floor, looking at whatever he dropped when you shoved him. you lean down to pick them up.

pictures. of you. not too many, not pictures taken by invading your privacy, but a few snaps of you in the corridors, or the canteen, or the library. times when you were fully aware he was there, from that one polaroid phase he had, he used to carry that thing around for a full two weeks.

the pictures flip something in you, you take your chances with him. you wanna test him, you know it's risky, but your brain isn't weighing it very well currently.

"god, hyunjin. look at you-" your voice drops an octave without you even realising it, and it does things to him that can't say out loud. you wave the photographs at him.

"-taking pictures of me like a little creep? so filthy. following me around like a desperate little slut. were you hoping to be discovered?"

you didn't expect him to be as affected as he was. breath uneven from your jump scare a second ago, ears red, with some of redness bleeding into his face, still affixed in the position you pinned him in. your leg shifts between his legs and his boner brushes against your thigh. what a surprise. he likes this. he looks away from you, but you turn his face to you with your forefinger, him gulping at the action. adorable.

"you really are an attention whore aren't you? following me around like that? clicking pictures of me? bothering me and hoping I'll take notice? pathetic." you tsk at him, he looks on the verge of tears but his boner says a different story, you experimentally press you leg over it, recieving a small whimper in return. yup, he's definitely enjoying this.

"you got hard just by me yelling and shoving you huh?"

he's torn, his brain sending him mixed signals, he's embarrassed, he wants to go back to his dorm and hide and never show his face to the world ever again. but he likes this, part of him wants you to humiliate him more, maybe do things to him that he won't be able to forget. and a part of him is even more embarrassed at the route his thoughts are taking.

you're not thinking straight. he's hot, you shouldn't be doing this, but some predatory instinct inside you wants to. you use him as a catalyst to get your mind off of whatever has been bothering you. it probably shouldn't be a big deal, he wants this anyway.

"tell me hyunjin, do you really think i don't notice? you think i didn't notice you staring at me when I was with Lin and her cat? do you really think i didn't see you when I had to drive that asshole away from her? you think i don't notice how you sneak into sociology and watch me from the corner? i do. how will you explain all that huh?"

fuck. he didn't think you noticed. he really has no explanation. he's fucked. you could report him, or worse, out him infront of everyone, you even have the photos with you. he should have thought this through. he's done for. he's pretty sure you're gonna report him-

"i'm sorry! please don't-"

"make up for it."

"w-what?" he's pulled out of his trance.

"well, since you've behaved like a pathetic slut, make up for it by actually being one. maybe then i'll forgive you"

he gulps, he would do it without second thought but he doesn't know if you're kidding or mocking him. he even has no idea how to say it, so he just sighs and nods.

"that's what i thought. follow me."

he follows you on shaky legs as you lead him outside of campus, and the next thing he knows, he's being pinned to the door of your apartment while you unbuckle his belt and whip it out of it's place. he has no idea what to expect when you detach yourself from him and seat yourself on the couch.

"come here." you order and he follows, walking over to you.

"strip." you say, he feels exposed under your intense gaze, even with you sitting down on the low couch while he stands in front of you, he feels like he's on display. he can't say he doesn't like it tho. so he puts on a show for you, peeling of each piece of his outfit one by one, jacket, followed by his shirt, then his pants, all in quite sultry a manner before he stops, only his boxers on, and looks at you uncertainly.

"off." is all you need to say before he's kicking them away, his erection springing free. you look at him for a good while, soaking in details of his body, pretty neck and collarbones, lean arms and torso and such a slutty waist, further down to his painfully hard dick, red and leaking, body supported by strong and pretty thighs. and for a guy like him, he has a big dick.

he's aware of your intense stare on him, suddenly feeling very conscious of his own appearance.

you get up from your place, his belt still in one hand, the other going to his shoulder, making him shiver before it glides to his back as you make your way behind him, gripping his hips and pressing your front to his back, as if to tease, making his breath hitch. you bring his wrist his wrists together behind his back and tie them together with his own belt.

"i'm giving you a chance to back out, i'll throw those pictures away and you can walk out like this never happened. do you wanna stop?" you whisper into his ear.

"n-no."

"good, then kneel" you smirk, pushing him down onto his knees and resuming your place on the couch.

you take a moment to admire how pretty he looks like this, kneeling infront of you with his hands tied back, breath uneven and so disheveled. so, so pretty.

as you take your pants off, his eyes fly to your covered heat, cute. you can't help but slowly press your foot down onto his dick, drawing a pained moan out of him because he's been neglected for so long.

you part your thighs and your eyes are enough to order him to get to work. he shifts to you and licks a long stripe on top of your wetness before you shift your panties to the side. he can't help but drool at the sight.

he starts working immediately, licking and sucking like a man on a mission. and he's on a mission indeed, a mission to prove himself somehow, because he knows this is probably the only time this is happening and he wants to make you feel as good as possible, make you remember him, because he sure as hell will never forget this. and certainly never forget the sudden moan from you as his tongue laps at your clit, noticing you're the most sensitive there. he keeps that in the back of his mind as he sticks his tongue inside of you, quite literally making out with your cunt. your hand comes down to grip at his hair, drawing a moan that vibrates straight into your core.

his tongue moves in and out of you while his button nose touches your clit with each movement, he pulls his tongue out only to attach his mouth onto your clit enveloping it in warmth and sucking on it, making you pull stronger at his hair before he resumes his work inside of you.

he's too good at this, it doesn't help that it's been a long while since you last did anything sexual.

you push him further into yourself by his hair and he moans right into you, the vibrations bringing you awfully close to your high. you release a breathy curse which motivates him to speed up.

when you cum, it is with slight spasms, chasing down the delicious feeling as your thighs close around him, burying him into you, almost suffocating him, but he keeps going nonetheless.

you yank him back by the hair to look at his drenched face, he finally catches his breath, making his chest heave as he looks up at you with hooded eyes. you give his face a slap, not too hard, yet he only moans at the impact.

"you like being slapped, slut?"

"y-yes" he nods as well as he can with the grip you have in his hair. you slap him, the redness resulting just adding to the erotic look on his face.

"up." you instruct, he stumbles up onto his feet with a wince and you move to free his hands. his wrists are red, almost bruised by how hard he's pulled against the belt.

you lay back on the couch, beckoning him over.

"fuck me." you order. "if you can that is." you add after seeing the uncertainty on his face, he nods frantically.

"i c-can."

he says he can, but he melts the moment his dick enters you, he's too sensitive, having waited for so fucking long.

"feels so good. fuck." he moans into your ear at the feeling as he hovers over you. he starts to move, his length stretching you out and drawing heavy breaths out of you by the sheer size, his tip touches your g-spot without much effort, hitting it repeatedly as he starts moving.

his arms shake at your sides, everything becoming too overwhelming for some reason, your warmth wrapped around him, the stimulation suddenly making his head spin.

"f-fuck... " the poor boy is trembling, voice slurring as his hips move in an erratic manner, although it's taking you time to get used to him, you take the chances you get to mock him. your hand moves to wrap around his throat like a necklace of sorts.

"you can't even fuck me, so pussydrunk already? i'll have to all the work myself huh?" he looks at you with glossy eyes as your fingers press down on the sides of his neck.

"please yn" he whimpers out, with no real context as to what he's asking for, his eyes screwing shut. his arms are barely keeping him up anymore, sweating and trembling like he'll fall.

"you're too fucked out to even use your brain huh? begging and you don't even know what for. it's okay tho, since that's all a dumb slut can do. i'll show you how you're supposed to make me feel."

you push him onto his back, getting a yelp in return and waste no time in grinding down onto him, resulting in a loud gasp from the boy. your hand finds it's way back to his throat. he lets go completely, hands falling to his sides and head pressing back into the cushions as he releases a string of broken moans while you ride him into oblivion.

"o-oh, fuckfuckfuck. oh god."

you laugh at his helpless sounds, suppressing your own becoming difficult.

"god isn't gonna save you here, baby."

that makes him let out a loud, almost sob like moan.

"please." he whines as his hips buck up in the slightest. you're getting closer with every passing second and it looks he is too.

"please what, sweetheart? want me to stop? because your pathetic self can't take it? or want me to fuck you dumb until you're left a babbling mess?" these words make him let out the loudest moan you've heard from a man. he really does get off on degradation.

"c-close. oh god, please. please. fuck." he's physically restraining himself from reaching out to you, hands grasping at whatever purchase he can find on anything around him.

"fuck. i'm close. you there? cum with me." you breathe out to him and he cums with a broken sob, his high hitting him like a train as his breath falters and his back arches beautifully, you keep moving throughout, riding out your own orgasm which hits in sweet waves, you keep going for a while after, just to overstimulate the boy a little, getting small, pained whimpers from him.

"c-can i touch you? please?" he asks, still in his post orgasm haze, his voice so adorably small that it makes you give in.

"go ahead." you say, expecting him to touch you tits or ass, but you didn't expect him to pull you body down to lay on top of him as you both catch your breath from your orgasms. he was holding on tight, like he'll fall if he let go. that little action did something to your heart but you pushed it back, not wanting to ruin the moment.

you originally planned to fuck him and kick him out, getting rid of those pictures anyway, but you think you don't mind if he stays for a while, you let him cling to you for a few minutes before the stickiness and stench of sex gets to you.

"hey, hyunjin? let's clean up hmm?" he makes a small noise but unwraps his arms anyway, but winces with you when you get off of his dick.

you pay no attention to his cum dripping out as you get yourself and him towels to clean up and put on some clothes.

he lets you drag him to the kitchen and accepts the water you give him, you're busy observing his features when his small voice snaps you out.

"i'm sorry." why is he apologizing? you find him looking down on the floor.

turns out he's sorry for clicking those pictures without your consent, it takes a while to convince him that you actually saw him taking those, just chose not to protest. well since you noticed him in places he didn't think you would, this didn't surprise him either.

you send him off with a warning not to die on the streets in a car accident.

fuck, you really need to get him out of your brain.

he's gone and you suddenly remember you need to clean your apartment before Lin comes over, you rush to find a way to get rid of the very obvious smell of sex in your living room, while you clean your brain goes on autopilot with it's thoughts.

so he's clingy after sex-

wait, what?

[s6ngbird]

his bitch — coriolanus snow ࿔*:･

♡‧₊ warnings — nsfw, possessive!coryo, fingering (f. recieving)

♡‧₊ pairing — cowboy!coryo x fem!reader

♡‧₊ a/n — ty to my sweet lovely mutual @etfrin for commenting on my last post for this idea, love you <3

masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune

cowboy!coryo made it very clear to everyone that he had a claim on you, taking you with him everywhere and if anyone got too close to you, they'd wish they didn't after seeing coriolanus

you regularly came with coriolanus to the bar, he always kept you close or on his lap to make sure you were with him at all times

this time was a bit different though

coryo had left for a minute to go talk to someone, leaving you sitting in the bar alone which is always a bad idea

some older man comes up to you, too close for your liking, his breath reeking of alcohol as he leans closer

“whatcha doin’ out here alone princess?”

you were about to respond or at least get a good distance away from this man, when you feel a hand on the small of your back and a shadow is casted over you

“get the fuck away from her, you already know she's mine, we see you every sunday, so why do you insist on trying to flirt with her?”

the man immediately backs away, not wanting to pick a fight with coryo

you feel coryo’s grip tighten on you, and he's practically fuming as he picks you up, taking you to the back of the bar, where you two can still be seen but far enough for what he was preparing to do

he pulls you on his lap, facing him once you're comfortable, and he was fuming

“why do you continue to let these men flirt with you, are you really that much of a slut?” he hisses, hands tightening around your thighs

“coryo it's not my fault!” you huff, trying to pry his fingers off, knowing that he was going to do something that you were going disagree with

he tsks, shoving his hand up your skirt, pulling your panties down as your breathing hitches

“listen doll, i own you so i can do whatever the fuck i want and don't you forget that” he says with a smirk, feeling how wet you were already even though he hadn't done a thing

he then shoved two fingers up your dripping cunt, smirking as you covered your mouth so you didn't make too much noise

he takes the hand that was covering your mouth and holds it at his side

“don't hide your pretty sounds, i need everyone to know that you're mine” he said, thrusting his fingers harder than before at a steady rhythm

you felt your eyes roll as you clenched around his fingers, letting out quiet whimpers and moans as he found your g-spot

“that the place doll?” he said, stroking your face and smirking then adding a third finger which had you letting out a loud moan

it went quiet in the bar, as everyone looked in coryo’s direction 

he pulled his fingers out which had you whining, forgetting for a second that people were watching

“later doll, we have an audience” he said laughing and bringing his fingers to his mouth to clean them off and putting his hat on you

he pulled your panties up and moved you off his lap, getting up after you stood up and put an arm around your shoulders, leading you out the bar

before he exited, he gave everyone a smirk and knowing look as if to say,

“this bitch is mine so fuck off”

[axelsagewrites]

Most People Say Goodbye

Pairing: Sandor x F!Bolton!Reader

Summary: Sandor and (Y/N) have a secret relationship at kings landing which crumbles when he disapears after the battle of blackwater. Eventually though your paths cross again

Part one of two

TW: swearing (its the hound so you could guess lol)

Requested by Annon

Words: 2704

Masterlist Here

The first time you ever saw Sandor you couldn’t help but stare. You weren’t the only one to stare but the only one not to do so out of disgust. He was fascinating. The way he moved, spoke, the fact he did not seem to care what anyone thought of him. It was refreshing.

Your father Roose Bolton had sent you away to be a ward of Eddard Stark when you were fairly young. He had always not so subtly encouraged you to find someone to marry, specifically from another great house of the north. Every time he saw you, he asked about the Karstarks or the Starks, always wondering how Robb had been. But you knew little about Robb other than him being Sansa’s older brother.

Sansa was your best friend in the north and you were stood behind her when the king came to visit. It was also when you first laid eyes on the man in the hound helm. It didn’t take long for you to find out everything about him. You were good at finding out what was what and who had done this and that. It was probably one of the reasons Sansa liked you so much.

He always sat by himself or by other knights during feasts. Even when he was with others he rarely spoke. Your father had encouraged you in a raven to travel to kings landing and Ned had been happy to bring you along to accompany Sansa. During your month long ride, you never even seen the hound speak more than once.

One day during your travels you were walking around a forest, trying to stretch your legs before being shoved back into a dark and stuffy carriage. As you were walking you say a rabbit and without thinking crouched down to say, “Hello there,” the rabbit bounced up to you before its head snapped to the side and suddenly it ran off. “Fine then,” you grumbled standing up.

You turned to see a very annoyed Sandor Clegane staring at you. You froze. “Are you stupid girl?” his questioned snapped you out of it and your face screwed up in anger, “I had a perfect shot. You’re lucky I don’t shoot you,”

As he turned to storm off you couldn’t help yourself, “It was only a bloody rabbit,”

“What?”

“I said it was only a rabbit,” you said as he turned to face you, “If its that rare for you to get a ‘perfect shot’ for a rabbit maybe you should hunt something else,”

He laughed but it was not a happy laugh, “Alright girl,” he said “you catch me a fucking rabbit then. If you wont fall as soon as you have to slit its throat that is,” he spat, tossing his spear on the ground, before turning off to go back to camp.

With a huff you turned and looked where the rabbit had been. If he wanted a rabbit, he could have a fucking rabbit. You picked up the spear and set off.

When the warning horn rang meaning you would be setting off again you turned to walk back to camp. Everyone was packing up to leave as you searched for Sandor who was strapping something to his horse.

“Here,” you said as you tossed his spear at his feet. He looked down confused until he saw the four rabbits speared and skinned on his spear, “Try not to burn them when you cook them. Unless you eat them raw of course,” you smiled before walking back to your carriage you shared with Sansa, Arya, and Septa.

When you finally arrived at kings landing you saw Sandor all the time but rarely spoke. He acted as Joffrey’s shadow, and you were always with Sansa. Despite this you never had a reason to speak but you wished you did. Sansa often would complain about how freakish he was, and Arya was convinced he was the devil. But for some reason you remained fascinated.

You were sitting with Sansa in the gardens when the prince approached, the hound not far behind. “Leave us lady Bolton. I wish to talk to my betrothed alone,”

“Yes, your grace,” You nodded and curtsied, turning to Sansa “goodbye lady stark,” as you walked past the prince you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Why Sansa was obsessed with him you couldn’t understand. You hadn’t even noticed Sandor looking at you till you saw a smile on his face. That was even rarer than him talking.

“You too dog,” you heard Joffrey say as you left, “go on run along,”

You could hear his armour moving as he walked and despite him not rushing he had caught up to you quickly due to his height, “Not a fan either then?”

“That depends,”

“On what?”

“Who’s asking?” you were out of sight of the prince and Sansa by a short pier off the side of the gardens that faced over the front of the waters by kings landing.

“That’s already answered my question girl,” you rolled your eyes and walked down the pier.

You stood at the end of the pier and turned to see Sandor a couple feet behind you, “You saw me roll my eyes you already knew my answer,”

“You should learn to lie better then,”

“Why?” you said facing the water again, “Are you someone who shouldn’t know the truth?”

“I know the truth girl,” he spat, “but you shouldn’t trust everyone you meet,”

“I don’t trust you,” you said turning back to face him. “you could push me off this pier to drown and no one could prove it. but you also seem to hate everyone you meet so who are you going to tell?”

This time he stepped closer, “I could push you in, you make it so tempting after all,” it might have scared you if you didn’t see a smile ghosting his lips, “but I don’t hate everyone I meet. Just the cunts. It just so happens majority of the lord pricks and lady pricks here are,”

“But not all of us?”

“Not all of you,” he agreed as he turned and walked away.

“Most people say goodbye you know?”

“Im not most people girl,”

From then you began to talk to Sandor more. He often ran into you at the garden or specifically at the pier and you were starting to think it was deliberate. Then Ned Stark was executed.

Your whole world had fallen upside down. Not wanting to ‘ruin Sansa’s pretty face’ Joffrey had appointed you as her whipping girl of sorts. Every time she did something she wasn’t supposed to Ser Meryn Trant would beat you and Sansa would scream. Eventually she gave in, and your beatings became less.

Initially it had been the hound told to hit you across the face but he refused. Joffrey began screaming when truant stepped in and slapped you so hard you fell. After that he stalked off with truant complaining about Sandor who stayed behind to pick you up. Sansa roughly pulled you away from him and scurried you both back to her chambers.

Later that night he came to visit you at your chambers for the first time. “Come in,” you said when he knocked. Sandor stood awkwardly in your doorway as you sat on your bed. “Close the door. I don’t think you’re supposed to be here,”

“Im not,” he said as he shut the door, “but I had to make sure you were okay,”

“Im okay,” you smiled, patting the spot next to you on your bed, “It wasn’t that sore,”

“Bullshit,” he said, looking at your bed hesitantly till you patted it again. He stalked over and cautiously sat on your bed, as if he was afraid it would break, “I saw him hit you. I saw him fall. And I let him”

“What were you supposed to do? Its not like you could stop him permanently. Joffrey would just have someone else do it,”

“Unless I killed the king,”

“Do not kill the king.”

“Why not? Fuck the king.”

“Yes, fuck the king. Not fuck you,” you said looking at him like he had went crazy, “if you kill Joffrey Cersei Lannister would have your head on a pike and I do not need to see any more heads on spikes,”

“You’re going to see plenty more with that bitch on the throne,”

“And I will cope with that but not if yours joins them,” you grabbed his hand and ignored the startled look on his face, “I can deal with a few slaps. My brother used to kick me up and down the place when I was at the Dreadfort,”

“Then I’ll kill him next,” he said and you sighed. “Look, girl, I just don’t like seeing you suffer,”

“Then don’t die. Just,” you paused looking at him, “just stay with me. Please? Just sit with me for a while,”

And he did. Your secret relationship became official. All the build up had led to Sandor sharing your bed and hiding in your chambers or in the garden with you whenever you could.

Until the battle of blackwater that is. You had been ushered into the room with all the women and children unable to do anything about what was going on outside. You never even got to say a proper goodbye to Sandor.

The night before he had given you a gift, however. “What am I supposed to do with this?” you asked holding the dagger in your hands.

“If Stannis’s men make it into the holdfast you have two choices. You can either slit their throats or your own. I won’t blame you either way but I wont let you go into this unprotected because you’re a fool if you think you’ll be safe. Especially not if his men see you,”

“I understand,” you said and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I know what to do,”

“Good,” he said, “and as soon as the battle is over I’ll find you,”

But he didn’t.

The battle came and went, and Sandor was nowhere to be found. you heard he had ran, that he’d fled, but it wasn’t possible. He wouldn’t leave you he promised he’d come back. But now he was gone.

You felt like a ghost walking the castle. Not even Sansa could lift your spirits and she couldn’t tell why.

You thought you’d be stuck in kings landing forever but to your surprise Petyr Baelish knocked on your door one night with a map and a bag of gold.

“But what about Sansa?”

“She’s not safe anywhere,” He said, “You can run, and Cersei will put a few silver stags on your head and no more. Sansa would have all the knights out looking for her. You can go. You can be safe,”

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” you couldn’t help but cry. You did not want to do what Sandor had done to you to her, “Let me say goodbye,”

“I can’t. I would if I could. Believe me,” but I didn’t, “Write her something. Quickly,” he ushered me to my desk where you quickly scrawled a half written goodbye before he took the paper from you and rushed you out the door.

He led you out of the castle through secret passages without giving you a chance to even say goodbye to Sansa. Then you stood outside of the Castle wall with a horse he had bought for you and normal clothes and a cloak for you to wear.

“Why are you helping me?” you asked as he helped lift you onto your horse.

“You’re not safe here. You need to go to your brother. Go to the dreadfort. You’ll be safe there,”

Safe. With your brother. Unlikely but despite everything he couldn’t possibly be as bad as Joffrey and it had been years since you last saw him. You were older now as was he.

“And Sansa?”

“Ill protect her. I promise. But you must go men will be on patrol soon. Ride fast,” and with that you fled kings landing.

The first ride you made to Kings Landing took a month in plush carriages with your friends. You would think going alone would be quicker but no. by the end you weren’t even sure how long you had been out there for. You had ran out of Petyr’s gold by the time you were a third of the way there. So many things happened but you tried to forget just as quickly as they happened.

You never expected your brothers face to be a relief. You felt on the verge of death when you finally saw the castle in sight. It took every ounce of strength to make it to the castle gates. However once you saw Ramsey you somehow managed to run to him. For once he hugged you back.

Everything felt perfect. Ramsey had matured and was the best brother you could ask for. You didn’t even have to leave your chambers because he had servants doting on you. You had no clue anything bad was even happening. Until you found out about Reek.

At points you questioned whether this was better than Kings landing. Then your father was given Winterfell, and no one would tell you why. But you knew Robb stark had to be dead. You cried. Sobbed. Realising it meant bran and reckon must be gone too.

One day Sansa appeared, and you found out she never got your letter. Baelish had tricked you and you didn’t know why. But you had an idea and now she was standing in front of you betrothed to marry the man that killed your father. Part of you was jealous you didn’t kill him yourself when Sansa filled you in.

You had all but given up before Sansa came but now you both had a reason to live. Theon finally managed to beat out Reek and the three of you held hands as you jumped off the wall.

Everything eventually became a blur. Your brother was defeated by Jon Snow who took you and Sansa in. You befriended wildings and finally returned to a Stark ran Winterfell. Jon left for a mission beyond the wall and left Sansa in charge. Despite her not being a Queen you were essentially her hand. Everything all most felt good despite everything that had happened and was looming.

Then the dragon queen came.

You watched as Sansa greeted her, knowing how much she feared Daenerys taking the north from her like your father had done. You watched her dragons fly overhead and wondered what it would feel like to ride one. You watched as Tyrion Lannister of all people walked into Winterfell. You saw the Army of the Unsullied in all their legendary glory. Then you saw him.

Sandor Clegane.

But he never saw you at first but you watched as his eyes searched the courtyard desperately looking for someone. Then his eyes finally met yours. He went to step forward but you had already turned and left for your chambers.

A while later Sansa knocked on your door, “Come in,” you called.

“Are you okay (Y/N)? You just disappeared,” She said as she said beside where you were lying on your bed.

“He’s here,”

“Who’s here?”

“Sandor,”

“You don’t need to be afraid of him anymore,” she said with a smile, “we’re not children anymore. He’s here to help us,”

“I was never afraid Sansa,”

“Well, I was. He has that ugly scar- “

“Will you shut up,” you snapped as you sat up in bed, “I was never afraid of him Sansa. I loved him and he left me,”

Sansa was shocked as you finally spilled what you had kept inside for years. You told her every detail but they were starting to be foggy with all the time that had past.

She was silent at first. “You should talk to him,” she eventually said, “he never should have left you.”

You stayed in your room till after the feast had started but for whatever reason as the chatter grew louder and the people drunker you decided it was time to confront him.

Part Two Here

A/N: Part two of the actual reunion should be up tomorrow so stay tuned

[chrisevansonly]

Rough Patch Headcannon🐥💛 (Little Duck AU)

Pairing: Dad! Chris Evans x Momma Evans (Female Reader)

Summary: things aren’t always as they seem in the Evans household, and currently, it’s tougher than rough

Warnings: angst, mental health, arguments, fluff towards end:)

Back on bedrest once again after you got home from your appointment with Chris, Arlie was down for a nap so it made it easier for you to hide away in your shared bedroom, not wanting to talk to anyone or talk about anything

You didn’t think this pregnancy would be easy, especially with baby boy growing everyday and getting bigger and bigger, but the aches, the constant pain you were in mixed with a very active toddler were draining you more than you’d ever admit

It started 3 weeks ago when you noticed you felt down, you’d experienced this feeling before after giving birth to Arlie, the dark cloud swimming around over top of you, the weight on your shoulders, that on top of the unbalanced hormones with baby boy, were cause for disaster

It also wasn’t fair that you’d been so snappy with Chris recently, he never took offence to it, never got angry, he knew you were in loads of pain, he just wished he could take it from you

“Okay…please be good so I can wash my face baby..”

The plead seemed to work momentarily before he pushed roughly on your ribcage, a frustrated groan leaving your lips before angrily tossing your face products to the side

You couldn’t help the sudden sobs that escaped as you tried hard to hold it together and not have a total breakdown, Chris shoving the door open in worry a few seconds later

“Hey, hey, whoa honey…what’s going on?”

“I can’t t-take this pain anymore, all it is and a-all it has been is p-painful and I c-can’t even do anything a-anymore!”

Chris almost didn’t know what to say to try and console you, you didn’t stay in the bathroom long enough for him to hug you, opting to move back and get into bed

“What can I do to help you in this moment sweet girl?”

You shrugged and it was like all resolve left you

“Nothing. I don’t want anything, there’s nothing that can help, I’m giving up, I want to just be in pain in bed, alone and god I don’t fucking know!”

The minute you heard a soft whimper and a quiet “momma…?” your heart stopped and you cursed quietly to yourself, looking over to see Arlie, mr.duck clutched in her arms as her bottom lip wobbled, her eyes glassy

“Hi my love…come in”

“Why you yelling momma…? don’t like it.”

She walked close enough for you to help her on the bed, her little arm covering your bump and she rested against you

“I’m sorry duck, I didn’t mean to scare you, Momma just isn’t feeling well that’s all…”

Chris watched quietly sitting at your feet, his hand squeezing your ankle gently

“I s’owwy you not feeling well momma…I can help you feel better!”

A tired smile showed on your face as you rubbed a hand over her head, the frustration leaving your body only to be replaced with that sinking feeling of sadness and dread

“I bet you could my love..”

Chris could see the sudden drop your mood, leaning over to tickle Arlie’s little feet, a giggle filling the room

“Come on baby girl, let’s go make some of Momma’s favourite snacks, maybe do some art for her?”

Arlie sat up nodding her head before kissing your head softly

“Bye momma! Be back soon!!”

She ran off towards the hallway, Chris couldn’t help the laugh he let out watching her excitement at the idea of helping cheer her momma up, truth be told he wanted to help his wife in any way he could

“I’m sorry i’m being such a horrible wife and mom..I don’t know how you still stand to be around me”

It was instantaneous how his hands reached to hold your face, your eyes shifting to meet his

“I love you, I love you so much I would do anything for you, you know that…right?”

After you nodded he continued

“You are the best mother to Arlie and our little guy, and you are the best wife a man could ever ask for. I know things have been so incredibly hard, and you’re in a lot of pain, so much so that I wish we could swap places because seeing you hurting like this and not knowing how to help you is killing me..”

You hadn’t even realized you’d started crying until he swiped his thumb across your cheeks

“I-I’ve been so horrible to you…”

“You’ve been frustrated, in pain and going through a really rough time, I haven’t taken any of that to heart because I know that isn’t you…what I do want is for us to work together to help you get comfortable, and to help this beautiful brain of yours feel better..”

Chris moved to pull you into his side, his lips pressing a few kisses to your temple

“DADDY ‘HUWWY UP I NEED HELP!!”

You let out a soft laugh, the first one in a few weeks and Chris joined you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips

“I missed that sound, we’re gonna take care of you and figure this out I promise you, now I believe little miss and I have some work to do to get our favourite girl feeling better”

“I love you Chris…”

He stopped at the door, turning to send you a smile

“I love you more sweet girl”

It was nowhere near over, you were nowhere near that happy and bubbly woman you’d once been, and that was okay. For the first time in 3 weeks you felt a little less down, the weigh on your shoulders eased the slightest amount. Although it still hurt and you were still struggling, knowing you had your little girl and your ever so sweet husband in your corner, made things a tiny bit lighter…and you’d take it🤍

[jojojoy1]

Could u write driver sister!reader and Yuki romantically please

Brothers teammate - Yuki Tsunoda

Yuki Tsunoda x Gasly!reader

You and Yuki have been seeing each other behind your brother's back. When Yuki joined AlphaTauri in 2021 you immediately took a liking to him. You knew Pierre wouldn't like you dating a driver, let alone his teammate, so when Yuki asked you out you made it very clear that you couldn't tell anyone.

Fast forward two years and still noone knew of you and Yuki, or so you thought.

It was the Spanish Grand Prix weekend. You and Yuki had gone out after qualifying to celebrate how well he did. Starting P5 in the race. You thought noone saw you, but you were terribly mistaken.

...

You woke up to a loud knocking at your hotel door.

"What time is it?" Yuki whined.

You checked your phone, "Ten to five."

You got out of bed and tiredly opened the door.

"What The Fuck!?" It was Pierre, he just shoved his phone in your face. On the screen was pictures of you and Yuki sat at dinner, holding hands, kissing.

There is no way to deny this now.

Yuki slouched out of bed, too tired to realise who was at the door. He came up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder.

You were speechless. How could you be so reckless and let people catch you.

As soon as Pierre saw Yuki he started yelling threats in every language he could think of. Pierre ran past you in an attempt to catch Yuki. Yuki squealed, begging for mercy.

"STOP IT!!" You yelled. The pair froze. Yuki stood on the sofa holding one of your shoes to defend himself with. They both stood staring at you. Pierre's eyes full of anger, whereas Yuki's only emotion was fear.

"How could you date him behind my back?" Pierre started.

"Because I knew you would react like this if you ever found out."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Two years." Pierre opened his mouth to speak again but you stopped him. "And it's been the best two years is my life. So before you try and kill the man I love maybe you should take a minute and realise that I'm happy. Yuki makes me happy. He's everything I've ever wished for and more."

The room fell silent. Pierre trying to process what you had just said.

"You love me?" Yuki was the first to speak.

"Yeah." You smiled, forgetting about Pierre as you confessed the words you had been too scared to say. "I love you."

Yuki dropped your shoe, stepped down from the sofa, walked over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"I love you, too." He whispered. Happy tears fell from both yours and Yuki's eyes as you softly kissed.

Pierre cleared his throat, bringing you back to reality. "Just 'cause you love each other doesn't mean I like this," he signed "but I can tolerate it."

[formula1fanfiction]

Charles Leclerc / Pierre Gasly

Title: What's going on?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Pierre Gasly

Characters: Charles Leclerc, Pierre Gasly, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, George Russell, Alex Albon, Esteban Ocon.

Prompt: Could you write Pierre, who becomes a kisser when drunk? Bottom Pierre.

A/N: Pierre's a little meance in this and poor Charles is the one who has to deal with all the shit.

If Charles had one thing to say about is best friend, it's that he's not a very classy drunk. "I'm not going to drink, I promise." Pierre tells Charles as he walks through the door. "I've heard that before." Charles replies before following him through the doors.

They are already late to the party, most over drivers seem drunk already. "Come on Pierre, it's wine it won't kill you." Charles watches as Max pratically shoves the drink into Pierre, most of it sloshes out of the side and stains Max's white shirt red. "Whoops."

"I'm good, i'm not drinking tonight." Pierre smiles at the Dutchmen politely, then walks away.

"You drank last time and nothing bad happened." Carlos tells Pierre, Charles stares daggers at his teammate behind Pierre's head, because yes something bad did happened last time. Pierre vomited into a potted plant and then tried to make out with Sebastian Vettel, Charles had never been more embarrassed, especially when Seb had told him to control his best friend.

"He's good." Charles steps in. "Because last time he vomited into a potted plant." He decides to leave out the kissing Seb part. Carlos laughs so hard, he has to clench down on his stomach.  

Pierre likes kissing people when he's drunk and that's a problem.

"Stop being boring, it's my party, now drink." Lando presses a vodka into Pierre's hand, who gives a little shrug. "I guess, one can't hurt." Oh, here we go. Charles mentally rolls his eyes, watching him tip back the drink.   

One quickly turns into several, Charles hates that he can't enjoy himself because he's got to take care of Pierre. Hopefully he doesn't try and kiss anyone tonight.

"Oh hello, Estie bestie. Why do we hate each other?" Esteban, who never drinks looks repulsed as Pierre closes the gap between them with puckered lips. "Pull yourself together." Charles hisses, quickly pulling Pierre away, giving Esteban a small smile in apology. "You would only hate yourself in the morning for going there."

"Drink this." Oscar presses a glass of water into Pierre's hand. "It will help you sober up." Charles is too busy watching Alex and George shamelessly making out, Alex has George pressed up against the wall, a hand up his shirt. A small part of him wishes that was him and Pierre.

"Yeah, they need to get a room." Oscar laughs, following Charles eyes. "I would tell them to get one, but i'm scared they will end up fucking in Lando and I's bedroom." Charles forgot for a moment that Lando and Oscar are together, it seems everyone is in an established relationship but him.

"Get away from him." Charles glances over and sees Pierre, now has George pressed up against the wall. Luckily the Brit, doesn't seem that angry about it, his boyfriend on the other hand roughly pushes Pierre away. "Kiss your own boyfriend."

"You took my seat, so I thought i'd take your man." Pierre is smirking, Charles doesn't think he's ever seen Alex that angry, he quickly pulls him away. "Sorry Alex, he's drunk." Alex places his hands on his hips. "Why don't you kiss him instead, we all know you want to." Charles narrows his eyes and pulls Pierre away.

"What was that all about?" Pierre asks staring into Charles' soul, like wasn't the one who tried to kiss George and piss off Alex. "You tried to kiss George, while Alex was standing right next to him." Pierre giggles. "I wasn't talking about that."

"Then what, Pierre?" Charles just wants to home, parties are no fun when you a babysitting an actual idiot. "When Alex said, why don't you kiss him, we all know you want to." Charles shrugs.

"Do you want me to kiss you, Charles?" He wants to say, but that would be lying, so he doesn't say anything, just glares at Pierre. His personal space is suddenly crowded by Pierre then their lips meet. The kiss isn't a good one, Pierre's drunk and it's full of tongue and teeth but Charles' heart does a happy dance finally getting what he wants.

"Shall we go back to the hotel?" Pierre smirks as he pulls away. How can Charles say no to that. They don't bother saying goodbye, Pierre's pissed off way too many people.

"Are we going to fuck, Charles?" It's the first thing Pierre asks when they enter the bedroom. "No, you're too drunk for that." Pierre laughs. "I'm not drunk, tipsy maybe but not drunk."

"Still no, because i've never, you know with man." Charles gestures with his hand, embarrassed that he's even admitting to this. "You can fuck me, it's no different than doing it with a women, I know you've done that." Pierre shrugs. "Well yes, okay."

"Great." Pierre tears off his clothes, like he's some kind of animal and spreads himself out in the middle of Pierre's bed. "There's lube in my pocket." Charles fishes it out of Pierre's jeans while slowly taking off his own clothing.

"Are you sure about this? I feel like i'm taking advantage of you." Charles climbs up onto the bed and settles himself between Pierre's spread legs. "I've wanted to fuck you for years Charles, just get on with it, i'm horny."

"Ok, Mr bossy." Charles pours a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, probably too much he makes a bit of a mess and it runs down his fingers. "Not the whole bottle, Cha." Pierre giggles placing his hands behind his head, lifting his legs slightly giving Charles better access to his hole.

"Actually, maybe my hands and knees will make it easier." Pierre rolls over and soon Charles is presented with that nice ass. Charles is a little nervous sinking the first finger inside, he's fucked girls, this isn't too different. He twists and turns the digit, fucking him with them, then adding another one. He works his way up to four fingers, just because he's scared to death of hurting Pierre.

"Today Charles, I am not a virgin, I bet I could get your fist inside me at this point." Charles lets his fingers slip out. "You are so bossy for someone who is about to have a dick in their ass."  

"I just know what I want, now stop fucking around and get inside of me." Charles resists the urge to spank the pale pass and pours lube on his cock, hissing in pleasure at finally giving himself some pleasure.

Charles lines himself up with Pierre's hole and slowly sinks inside. "Charles." Pierre snaps again and Charles gives up taking it steady and slams inside of him with one swift thrust. "Fuck yes, you feel so good." Charles stalls for a few seconds but soon starts to move, because Pierre is annoying as fuck and keeps complaining, drilling Pierre with rough but shallow thrusts.

"Wow Charles, you really know what you're doing." Charles has had it with Pierre's mouth now and decides it time to shut Pierre up once and for all and slams inside even harder, getting deeper and deeper with each thrust. The headboard slams against the wall. Pierre's bossy sounds are now replaced with loud moans, which are slightly better to handle.

Charles sinks to the deepest parts of him and angles his thrusts until he slams into Pierre's prostate. "Fucking hell." Pierre throws his head back, taking his own leaking cock into his hand are furiously strokes himself to the same pace as Charles' thrusts.  It doesn't take long for him to fall apart and he's screaming Charles' name as he paints his own hand with his milky white seed, collapsing down onto the bed in the process, leaving him face down ass up.

"I'm close." Charles digs his fingers into Pierre's hips and thrusts into him with all his might. Pierre is still moaning loudly, even though he must be feeling sore and oversensitive by now. Three more hard thrusts and Charles is following suit, screaming out Pierre's name as he spills inside of him. Charles pulls out instantly and collapses down onto the bed, trying to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry Pierre, I feel like I took advantage of you." Pierre makes a sound and pulls Charles in for a cuddle, until his head rests on Pierre's chest. "I was bossing you around the entire time, you can't think I didn't want it."

"I think you wanted it, but you are drunk..." Pierre giggles. "I'm not drunk Charles, i've always wanted you, I always kissed the guys to make you jealous." Charles can't believe what he's hearing. "You kissed George, in front of Alex." A shit eating grin appears on Pierre's face. "No harm in pissing of Alex in the process."

"So you wanted to fuck then?" Pierre nods. "I've wanted to fuck you forever Charles, I had always thought that you would be the bottom." Charles shrugs. "Maybe next time?"

"I hope that's a promise."

[samstclair]

Tommy Shelby's Barmaid

Tommy Shelby X Reader

Anonymous Request - 

Good morning/afternoon/evening/night Sammy Sammy yes I am! So check this out - I just saw Oppenheimer and came to the conclusion that I really miss seeing Cillian Murphy's face. So that night I began rewatching Peaky Blinders and am just in awe. So you know the point. I want to be his barmaid. No hate to Grace, love her, but let a girl just imagine. And that's where you come in. So yeah I wanna be his barmaid and sing to him. Maybe we're off to the races? Do your thing or else I'll might do a thing and report your account! :)

Word Count: pretty long

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And where are we off to, Miss?" 

"One ticket to London, please!" you told the airport cashier, (or whatever they're called I'm not sure tbh), with your gleeful, bimbo smile. "The UK, one, thought. Not the Ohio one! Can't have that happening again!"

The lady didn't respond, she instead gave you a soft customer service fake ass laugh pretending she knew full well what you were talking about and kept her eyes down on the computer, securing that flight. You no longer trusted yourself to use computers or laptops, thanks to those Benadryl pills you used to be addicted to. But now that you were evicted from your New York apartment, you lost those pills in the process, and honestly all of your personal shit, so you've been forced to quit cold turkey and was actually experiencing withdrawals at the very moment. But, you couldn't let anyone know this! You needed to leave America fast. 

"Okay, to confirm your name, Y/L/N, Y/F/N, correct?" 

"Yes, ma'am!" You passed her your credit card and she did her magic, charging you a fuck ton of money!

The printer pooped out your ticket and she passed both that and your card back to you. 

"Enjoy your flight. Safe travels," the lady wished you. 

"Oh my god, girl, you too!" you wished back. You turned around and found your terminal, buying an expensive Starbucks drink of your choice and plopping your big butt down on a chair. You sat and looked around, sipping your coffee like a mother, taking in your surroundings of this little JFK airport they got going on. 

"I'm really a world traveler right now...like, I'm on some Lewis and Clark shit right now," you thought to yourself. 

You looked down at your luggages, or perhaps, just luggage. All that remained after your eviction just filled one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase you bought from TJ Maxx. You also had your rare vintage Juicy Couture purse you bought from Depop, thats faux leather was literally peeling off like dead skin, filled with all your essentials - lip gloss, nearly dead Elf Bar, crumpled up two-year-Goodwill old receipts, wired headphones because that's what cool people use walking down the street, crystals, loose hair ties, a baby Calico Critter, wire-exposed phone charger, and more that aren't too important to mention. You did miss all your other knick knacks and items that were lost, but since you were traveling light you 1. saved more money since it was just carry-on and 2. looked mysterious, just a girl on the road on her own adventure. 

"After all, items are just like - items. Things." you thought, trying to convince yourself that all material items are just not real and people don't really need those things. This is what you repeated to yourself over and over but in all honesty it wasn't helping. You were fucking pissed you lost all your shit. 

With all your items was your go-to airport fit - a Juicy baby blue tracksuit. So now you resorted to old PJ's you had shoved to the bottom depths of your drawer, wrinkled to the house boots down and forgotten of existence. They were a pair of Nike shorts and a baby tee that read "I <3 Surfer Boys". You then looked down to your white Crocs with the knock-off Jibblitz - the ootd would just have to do. 

As you sat in your terminal, waiting, you thought about what adventures UK would bring to you. You wondered what people you'd encounter, what new storylines you'd get wrapped into, what NPCs would say to you - it really did feel like you were fast-traveling into another country in a video game. 

Safe to say, you were ready for liftoff! Whenever that liftoff! would be because your flight was delayed like three times cause that's just airport things! This was the start of a new adventure! New and humble beginnings! No more America and their never-ending obsession with you committing financial fraud or whatever the IRS loved to say! But never mind that don't ask don't PUSH!!!!!!

Some hours later, you were finally able to board your flight. By this time, let's just say - people were fucking pissed about their flight being delayed, but you didn't really mind it. Yes, you were in a big time rush to leave America as soon as possible, but all that time waiting allowed you to finish the only downloaded show on your phone: LPS Popular. Shit was finally getting heated, Savannah Reed was def the no nonsense type of girl you envisioned yourself to be. 

Anyway whatever you boarded on, took your window seat and went through the usual bullshit of waiting for everyone to board on and take off and turbulence and random ass baby crying and shitty food and whatever. 

About a half hour in the sky, you looked through the catalogue of movies available - none which caught your interest. 

However, after scrolling for another half hour - you found the one. 

"Oh my god, a movie about two lovers flying in the sky staring Cillian Murphy and Rachel McAdams?!" you thought excitedly. "That's some good shit right there."

You hit that play button, scooted deeper into that seat, propped your patas up, and was subsequently locked IN for the short ass movie Red Eye. 

The majority of the plot went over your head because you were to entranced with the Irish actor's cunty little face, sassy little attitude and blue big orbs for eyes, causing you to replay certain scenes over and over. (Specifically that bathroom scene. You didn't miss SHIT there). That hour and a half passed by and the movie had finished. Safe to say, you were NOT expecting any of that shit to go down.

"If that were me, I'd call that fucking hotel before he even told me to. Shit. I get Mark Wahlberg, if I was on that plane, things really would have gone differently," you thought, shaking your head. ]

After your almost seven hour flight, you had finally made it to London Town. It was indeed a stormy day, he was right, but you could go outside and roam around, contrary to popular belief. In order to prep for this trip, you stuck to just watching British films, trying to get an overall vibe of what those little redcoats were like. Pride and Prejudice (2005), Love Actually, Trainspotting, Little Women (Greta's version), Clockwork Orange, Barry Lyndon - let's just say, your Letterboxd was going crazy. You sobbed pretty disgustingly to all of them, except Trainspotting and Clockwork, which made you feel just icky. And Barry Lyndon just made you angry fuck that guy fr. 

A/N - I just realized that Little Women, both Greta's version and the older 90s Winona Ryder one take place, in FACT, America. Oops! So yeah disregard move on u horndog <3

You once thought you were well-rounded on what chaos was, after all, you've been 1. in theater school, 2. briefly in the Medellin cartel, 3. worked in corporate America - but all of those experiences looked like fun Sunday pastimes the moment you stepped your fat butt off of the plane into London's Heathrow airport. Nothing could've prepped you for this shit. Too many people all doing different things in different directions was NOT your favorite place to be in! Let's just say - shit was hectic. 

You boarded off, left your terminal and gathered your one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and bolted the fuck out, running at your highest speed possibly, your Crocs locked in their sports mode, you just ran. It's what you did best, your superpower some might say. Maybe since Ezra Miller is canceled for being a kidnapper, you could possibly replace the Flash? Who knows tbh. 

You ran so fast, miles and miles, (kilometers here!), you didn't realize you were now standing in front of the Big Ben. It was, admittedly, pretty big. Too bad you couldn't read time like that. 

You looked down to your phone to see your receipt - you needed to be back in three hours for your next flight to Glasgow, Scotland - your actual destination. This London shit? Yeah it was only a layover. But you couldn't miss it. 

You ended up missing it. You fell asleep on the big red bus, thinking you could sneak a little tour in before having to return for your next flight. By the time you woke up, it was morning, and you were alone, just you and your carry on. 

"Ello Miss? Miss?" 

Your eyes fluttered, adjusting to the brightness. A big English dude with missing and fucked up teeth was poking you awake. 

"Bro what?" you muttered, pushing yourself up. 

"Miss, it seems you've drifted off to sleep," the man said.

"Wait," you collected your thoughts, looked around at your surroundings, then down to your phone - your flight was seven hours ago. You felt your heart fall to the acidic pits of your stomach - 

"Ain't no fucking way I'm stuck in London", you blurted out.  "AIN'T NO FUCKING WAY!"

As if you took ten shots of DayQuil, you jumped up, scrambled for your shit and rocked the bus side to side as your Crocs took you across it, out to the exit and back onto the cobblestone streets of London Town. It was cloudy as always. 

"Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh no. NO I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T!" you yelled, running back towards the direction of that hell of an airport. You needed to get back. You NEEDED to get back to Scotland, you literally saw Trainspotting just for Scotland!

But alas, it was too late. By the time you made it back to Heathrow, there was no refunding. You would have to pay another fat BUCK to get on another flight. 

"Oh fuck that," you told the English lady. You walked back out, no way this little kingdom was gonna make a profit off of your ass. "I'd rather walk!"

And then you began to walk. Not run, you were a little hungry and needed some energy for that amount of dedication. 

You stopped by a tea place and thought that you might as well have a crumpet or whatever, which sucked ass. They charged so much for what?  A pastry with like three grams of sugar? Girl bye. 

You sat on the curb, looking down at your phone and opening a map, you could literally just walk to Scotland. Yeah it'd be a pretty fat walk, but you might get a crazy BBL ass for free from all the walking. 

"Babes? Are you alroight?" you heard a strong British voice call. You turned and there it was - a chav. A real fucking chav. 

"Oh my god, you guys exist?"

She furrowed her dark over-filled brows as she smacked her nude-lipsticked lips on a piece of gum. There were other chavs behind her, all bleach blonde, overly tan and red ass cheeks. It was like your friend group, but in an alternate universe. 

"Wot?" she asked again, more confused than offended. 

"Listen girl, I don't know if you can tell - but I'm not from here. I need to get to from the UK to Scotland. How does a girl like me do that?"

"Babes? Yor in the UKay, loike, this is London?"

"Huh?" you asked, like Trisha Paytas in the car. 

"Babes," another chimed in, "the UKay is loike, mooltiple places poot into one? Loike, England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales -"

"Oh, so they're all like, the same?"

Their faces dropped with fear. 

"Babes, don't say that. I've just met you, but I'd definitely tell you loike, don't say that around other peepol," the main chav warned. 

"Especially the Irish, yeah," another said. "They'd be mentool."

"Oh, no worries here. I'm an ally to all," you assured, "so do you know where I can rest for the night?"

"Babes!" the chav said excitedly, "I've got family in Birmingham! It's up norf, already on the way for yor travels! I'll text me nana so you can stay there fo free!"

"Babes," you said, you're cheap frugal ass getting hyped, "you're such a babe! Thanks girlie!"

You ended up dropping some money to take an Underground from London to Birmingham, because you then really realized your Crocs could only momentarily take you so far. Also, tat withdrawal wasn't doing you any favors. Anyway you enjoyed the ride, drinking some complimentary tea with your headphones in and disassociating as you looked out the window into the cement walls. You started to regret not bringing some sort of sweater because who would've thought a baby tee and Nike shorts would be enough. Shit was chilly. 

You stepped off into the platform, feeling a strong GUST of wind rush past you. You first kinda enjoyed it like it was some sort of main character moment, but the moment that ghastly smell of smoke hit your nostrils - you went frozen like Mitch McConnell. 

"Jeeeeeesus CHRIST!" you bellowed, "who fucking farted?"

You looked around, but soon became even more confused. Everyone was giving you the hardest stares you've ever received in your lifetime. But it wasn't their stares, no, you've been stared at before for worst things, it was cause of their - fits. 

Everyone was dressed like some 1900s shit. It reminded you of the show Downton Abbey, the show your old boss Logan Roy used to binge. Little particles of what looked like dandruff floated around you and everything else just seemed gray. 

"Wait, are you guys filming?" you asked in your bimbo self, smiling, "did I just walk onto set?"

No one replied. They really thought you were insane. There you were - rough looking, mid-withdrawal, I <3 Surfer Boys, old high school Nike shorts, Crocs, Five Below socks, Dollar Store sunnies, Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and Juicy bag, Elf bar in one hand and your phone with dangling earbuds wrapped around it. They were petrified. 

You grew angry. You just stood there as they stood there too - both you and the Downton Abbey cosplayers were in a stand off.  

"Okay whatever," you said, rolling your eyes. "Stay hating!"

You whipped around and began walking down the pavement, calling, or as the English say "ringing", that chav's nana. However, it rang and rang, you dialed and dialed, the lady was not picking up. 

"Um, what the fuck?" you said looking down at your phone, "can this girl pick up?"

You continued to dial, your other hand to your waist like a Karen. You continued to look around as it rang, really impressed with the set. 

It had been very foggy, and the cobblestone roads led down between old brick buildings where people in their 1920's costumes walked along, smoking and dodging the occasional explosion from the coal-burning coming from inside the buildings. Horses were trotting, carrying hay and other shit. People were yelling in their crazy accents and the dandruff kept raining down. Pillars up in the sky let out dark clouds of smoke. That gross exhaust smell still lingered, and no matter how much Nicki Minaj body spray you put on yourself, there was no way to mask it. 

"Great. I'm homeless AGAIN!" you thought, giving up on that nana. "Whatever. I didn't even want a roof to sleep under anyway. C'est la vie honestly."

The stares did not cease. In fact, it got worse. You knew you were hot but like what the fuck can't a girl just walk and bitches mind their business?

Things were getting worse. The cobblestone ass road made it hard for you to pull your suitcase, so you were just essentially dragging it, you phone was on ten percent, you were hungry and thirsty because let's be real you did not eat much on that train, and honestly just over it. 

You passed all the workers, dodged some random explosions, evaded random running children, spit some of that dandruff out of your mouth. Safe to say, you were angry but needed to persevere!

Eventually it was nighttime. You couldn't really tell if it was night or if it was just the pollution in the air at first, but after asking a random man he assured you it was indeed nighttime. 

"I don't know how you guys live with all this dandruff," you told him, shaking your head. "You guys must be getting paid good as extras."

"Dandruff?" the man said, "that's ash, luv!"

"Thank god, that makes more sense. I was thinking I was gonna need to buy some Heads and Shoulders. I hate Heads and Shoulders."

He continued to look at you weird while he smoke his, what you were pretty sure in the span of you two talking, sixth cigarette. "Heads and shoulders? Fuck are they to do with your hair?"

"I know, horrible branding. I feel bad for the people in Pompeii. They probably thought it was like, a dandruff epidemic."

Eventually the man directed you to the Garrison, which was supposed to be this pub or whatever that all the locals hit up. You really just wanted a drink of water and like Taco Bell or something. Maybe a "Macky D's"? By the time you made it to the establishment, it was midnight, since you took forever cause you kept getting lost. 

It was situated in a weird spot, where several men would occasionally run out and throw up bad on the dirt floor. It sounded hella noisy and rough in there, which was something you were not looking forward to. But again, you're hungry. 

"I'm fucking starving," you thought to yourself as you pushed those heavy doors open, your suitcase getting caught in them. A surge of anger caused you to yank it past the swinging door, causing the it to slam against the wall and crack the glass. You got scared cause you didn't wanna pay for it, so you applied the "hear nothing, see nothing" tactic. It always worked <3

Nothing could've prepared you for when you entered. The energy was just not it. Heathrow vibes for sure. Hoards of drunk ass English men doing, well, things that drunk English men do. They were yelling, cursing, fighting, just being overall very annoying and overwhelming. It took you by surprise, you were just in awe that English were real. It was literally like a Call of Duty lobby but the English colonized it as they always do.  

"These motherfuckers are crazy bro," you thought to yourself, getting a seat at the bar. The bartender made his way to you, and after some hesitation on his end, he finally spoke. 

"Em, what can I get you, ma'am?" he asked, looking at you confused. 

"Y'all got a menu?" 

"I'm sorry?"

"Food, bro. I want food." You were not having it. 

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid there's just drinks here."

"Fine, fucking alcoholics," you said, holding in your hangriness, "what about water?"

"Huh," he thought, "no one ever asks for water. I forgot we served it!"

He turned around and as he began to pour some crusty water into a dusty glass, you felt a tap on your shoulder. But before you could even turn to ask what the fuck whoever wanted what, another big burly English drunk dude was all up in your face. 

"ELLO MISS! MIGHT I HAVE A CHANCE AT BUYIN' YA A DRINK?"

You were flabbergasted. Dude REEKED of some ale. 

"Uh, you stink," was all you could muster, pressing your fingers on your nose. 

His face fell into a very angry one. "YOU FOOCKIN' JEZEBEL!"

You weren't sure what 'jezebel' meant so you just rolled your eyes and turned back to the new glass of water placed in front of you by the bartender, and before he could walk off you downed the entire thing. He, too, like McConnell, was frozen at your abilities. 

"Sorry about that man, Miss," the bartender said as he poured you another. "You're very pretty. Must be getting used to it by now around here."

"Yeah, like, about that," you started, taking your time with the water this time because you didn't know how much they had left in this place, "why is everyone cosplaying? Like, people here are DEEP into their character, which, don't get me wrong - I respect. I used to be a theater major myself, so I get it. But this is like, crazy. I know the English love their theater, but god."

The bartender, with a hypothetical gun to his head, could not for the life of him understand what the fuck you meant. You kinda got that vibe when he didn't reply right away. He actually looked worried for your mental wellbeing. 

"Um, why did you just like, disassociate?" you asked. 

"I'm sorry, Miss," he chuckled nervously, "you've just confused me, is all."

"Yeah, all that alcohol is giving you that early onset dementia. Do you know where I can get food around here?"

"Hmm," he thought, "I don't really know, to be honest with ya. And it's quite late, so I'm not sure what's open."

You could cry. You hated being hungry and tired at the same time, added to literally everything else that was happening around you. You were able to tune out the drunken men yelling behind you, but only to a point - mama was close to blowing. 

"Oh my GOD," you started. "WHAT'S A GIRL TO DO TO GET SOME FUCKING FOOD AROUND HERE?!" you caught yourself. The bartender was growing more concerned. "I'm sorry," you cleared your voice, "it's just like, your queen for real sucked."

"Queen?" he asked. 

"Wow, you're really dedicated to the craft. Like I said, I respect." You continued to drink your water. 

"How'd you end up here in London, anyway?" he asked, leaning against the counter. You later found out his name was Harry, like Styles. 

"Oh, buddy," you said, "what a story I have for you."

You then began to blabber on about what brought you to this point, which helped because it made you forget about your current grievances. Soon, the entire pub went dead quiet, tuned in to your story time. You felt like Tana Mongeau, and these were your viewers. You get why the majority of YouTubers were lowkey conceited. (Not Tana though she's funny love you girl <3). It was like a big kindergarten story time. 

About half an hour later, you were mid-way through. 

"And so, when my boss literally fucking died, I was like, 'oh shit, I've like lost my job by like, proxy'? It was scary."

"How'd he pass?" one of the drunk men asked. 

"Dude, get this. He died getting his phone out of the toilet. Like, some Elvis shit," realizing they wouldn't get what you just said, you thought it best to move right on, "anyway, I was like, 'maybe this is a good time to move on, maybe America isn't the place for me.' I was also wanted by the Men in Black, too. They don't fuck around."

"Who's the Men in Black?" Harry asked. 

"The IRA were after ya?" another asked, in shock.

"I. R.S. It's not important. So, after he died, one of his kids had to be chosen to take over the company. Imagine like a Game of Thrones sort of thing. My on-and-off boyfriend, Kendall, is the oldest so you'd think it'd be him, right? Like, his name was underlined and everything. Or crossed out, you know, is the dress blue and black or white and gold? The day of, I snuck into the building for the board meeting. I wasn't supposed to be there, cause you know, I'm not a share holder or whatever, but I thought 'if I act like nothing happened, maybe technically I'm NOT fired cause my boss died, maybe nobody will say anything?' Confidence takes you a loooong way let me tell you! So at the board meeting, I voted Kendall, but his stupid home alone ass brother Roman was like 'oh YOU'RE still here?'. Then he told me to fuck off and that I should've died with Logan? Could you believe that?"

They were all in shock, muttering angry English curse words to each other. 

"And then I was like, 'no fuck you. What ever happened to democracy? I don't have a vote?'. But whatever, Kendall didn't win and he left the building. No, Horton Hears a Who Tom won, and while everybody was celebrating I was like, 'guys? GUYS! ALL EYES ON WINDOWS! WHERE DID KENDALL GO? All eyes on windows!'. Then I got like, kicked out or whatever. I kept spamming Kendall, texting him and calling him and nothing. Like 'Kenny, wya???'. He was ghosting me. Then I saw right after he put his phone on Do Not Disturb. Targeted, really. I saw his location at Central Park, facing the water, and this had me WORRIED. Kendall and bodies of water? Yeah they don't mix well. I needed to talk to him before he jumped! But when I got there, his new dumbass body guard was like, 'Can you leave? He's not seeing anyone'. I kept calling him, and he wouldn't turn to look at me. He was like, mega dissociating watching that horizon."

"Must've killed him that he's no longer the number one boy," a drunken English man said, somber. 

"Def," you said.

"So you and Kendall?" another asked.

"No more. He never picked up, so I thought we were done," the men in the bar were devastated. "Yeah, really sad. I already mourned, though. So, yeah, I was like, 'what do I do now?' Logan gave me some money, so I can really just do anything? I was walking down the streets of New York and saw a random man in a suit I thought was the IRS, and it hit me - I'm lowkey a fugitive? I need to like, leave. Logan isn't there to protect me anymore, you know? And then it hit me - I'll go to Scotland! In Logan's honor! Like, his hometown. Plus, I thought Scotland didn't have extradition, but it was actually Venezuela. But it's okay, same shit. And that's why I'm here."

"But this is Birmingham?" another man said. 

"Oh, yeah, don't worry I fully aware. But yeah, that's it."

Again, the pub had been silent. They'd been intrigued, captivated. You waited for someone to speak up and break the silence, but about two minutes later you realized that wasn't gonna happen. 

"Okay? Anyway, so nothing to eat here?" you asked Harry. 

He shook his head, stunned. You then slowly crept off the chair, gathered your shit and saw your way out. "Weirdos," you thought. 

You exited back out, it was now fully dark with few lampposts shining light onto the falling dandruff. It all reminded you of exactly where you were - stuck. 

You slumped against the wall, onto the ground where you didn't see any of the mud that splashed all over your shorts. You were too tired and over it to give a fuck. You pulled out your phone, and saw the battery on 2%. 

"Man FUCK!" you exclaimed, "I know damn well none of these Lin Manuel Miranda stans built an electric socket." 

You went on to scroll mindlessly through your feed, which barely loaded because of the lack of signal. You were in the middle of spamming the refresh button until you received a notification from Snapchat that read, "One Year Ago Today". You clicked it open, forgetting you still had that app downloaded, and its contents nearly pushed you over the edge to start balling. 

You clicked play. 

"Oh, don't be a pussy, Greggguh!"

"Mumusdsfjks," Greg said, shoving more marshmallows into his mouth, "Chubb Bunif."

"Sorry, buddy, couldn't hear you!" Tom said, giddy, shoving his own marshmallow down Greg's mouth.

"You got it Greg!" you heard yourself say. 

You wanted to cry. You wished you could just go back to Waystar in that moment, playing the Chubby Bunny challenge with gay lovers Tom and Greg. 

"Man, I miss them," you thought. But alas, that was all gone now...

You quickly closed the video, going to your bank app to see how much money remained. After all, Logan DID leave you with enough, but you couldn't help yourself on those McDonald's breakfast orders through Uber Eats.  

Your tears quickly evaporated like they were put through the snap of Thanos when you got a glance of your credit score though. Oh no. 

"OH MY GOD?!??! MY CREDIT IS AT 400????!!? I'M LIKE, FUCKED?!???!"

"What's a credit score?"

You nearly shit yourself at the deep, sullen voice. You looked up and let's just say - you were intimidated. It's the terrorist dude from Red Eye. He wore a flat cap and a tweed little suit type of fit. 

But it wasn't the tweed that had you transfixed - no, it was those eyes....they were familiar. The last time you felt power of being in a trance like that were those Furbies... it forced you to look at them, you had lost all ability of self-control. They made you question yourself, your purpose and whole life being. They were commanding you with their uncanny valley vibe. Their immense gravity caused all time to slow...

"Dude, put those away!" you yelled, forcing your eyes shut and looking away. 

He didn't reply. 

"I'm sorry," you giggled, realizing he wasn't gonna reply to you and instead just stood there. "I'm just really hungry. You got anything?"

He thought for a moment. "Actually...we don't eat." He had a little sassy, matter-of-factly tone of speaking you fucked with heavily. 

"Yeah, that's why your official dish is tikka masala," a glance of that dish popped into your head. "Man I could fuck that up right now."

"I can take you to my office, I might have something there," he said. You agreed right after, anything would have to do. Little did you know, this would be the man who would save you. Not in a self-fulfilling sense but he'd grab you something to eat. 

You two made it to his office, some ways away. It was just a big ass dark room with tables in the middle, which you would later find out the betting on his horse racing took place. 

You sat down and he took off his coat and goofy ass hat, then went to the back for a moment. You looked around, you felt like you were in a dungeon. You looked down to your phone - shit was dead. 

He came back moments later, with a single loaf of bread he placed in front of you. He then took a seat across from you, took out a cigarette and did what the English do best, smoke. 

You were a bit taken aback, and it definitely showed, since his little sassy face got more sassier. 

"Well?" he bellowed, motioning to the food.

"Honestly," you started, not wanting to offend cause he did scare you (in a hot way), "I don't know what more I was expecting. I know Panera bread when I see it."

You began to eat, he just watched you. You would be annoyed had this been anyone else, but man was too fine. 

Some minutes went by, and he just smoked while you ate. He was definitely a man of few words. 

"You're so mysterious," you said. "Is that your character?"

He took in a big puff and put his feet up on the table like he owned the place, cause he literally did. "You don't belong here."

"Yeah, no fucking shit. I'm supposed to be in Scotland."

"What's in Scotland?" he asked, tapping his cigarette into an empty whiskey glass. 

"Bagpipes, I've heard."

He then leaned to the side, grabbing his cigarette case out and offering you one. You declined. 

"It's okay, I don't like cigarettes. They're gross," you went inside your bag and pulled out your crusty geriatric Elf Bar that was on life support, "here, try this! She's my sidekick!"

He stared at it, not a thought behind those eyes. He then rose up. 

"What about a whiskey, eh?" He went to a table against the wall and poured two glasses. You shrugged at his decline of your Elf Bar, and took some shitty hits cause girl it's dead give it up. 

As he had his back to you pouring the glasses, you really thought about how manly he was, in a way all those Ryan Gosling Drive stans love. He reminded you of those mafia boss fanfics you used to read. The way he spoke was so low and serious, but it made your feet rock like crazy!

He turned back around and placed your glass in front of you. Before he sat, he took a swing of his and literally drank it all in one shot like an animal. Wanting to impress him, you did the same, but soon regretted it right after. You'd tried whiskey before, but that was just not good. It was so strong it burned your esophagus, causing you to feel like you had strep throat all over again. You nearly gagged and threw it up but you couldn't let Tommy see you that way. He was staring. 

"Jesus Christ," you said in a raspy, chain smoker voice, trying to smile through the pain, "that's some real shit right there. I'd much prefer a BuzzBall."

"What brings you to the UK?" he asked again, a little more interrogating. 

"Fine. I'm avoiding parole."

"Parole?"

"Have you ever been on parole?" you asked. 

He took a moment, your question hit hard. "Ever since men like me got back from France, we've always felt we were on parole under the king." He had a sadness to it, which then made you kinda sad. 

"Aww, you're a parole baby <3."

He rose his brows in a "yeah this girl off it" way. 

"Does France give you bad memories?" you asked, wanting to know both out of being a nosy bitch and seeing if you could break him. 

"Most nights," he said. 

"Don't worry, me too."

"You served?"

"I might has well have," you replied, thinking of that past life living with your old boyfriend. 

"I wasn't aware women served."

"We always do," you assured. You kept looking into his eyes like it was a staring contest. 

"What's it you're looking at?"

"You have a very, no-nonsense cunty face. Like BBL," you first smiled telling him that, but it then reminded you of when you told your old boyfriend Kendall the same thing. The thought of him made you sad, you wondered where your number one boy was now...

You didn't realize but Tommy noticed your change in demeanor, initially believing you were thinking about your time during the war in France. He rose and grabbed another drink, placing one in front of you as he killed his in less than a second. 

You snapped out of your sadness. "Oh, no thanks. I don't think I can have anymore. This trip will definitely be very detoxing for me."

You two then sat in comfortable silence for some time, as if you two were both mourning after the innocence lost before France. You were something different for him, a new comfort he couldn't find much else in that polluted ass city. And you found comfort in him, he really did seem like he needed fixing. But that's not what you do, no no, he's a grown ass man and can fix himself. You'll just watch from the sidelines <3. 

Eventually, you stayed in Birmingham. Once you were aware that your money had no value in the UK, you realized you needed to be employed again to save up for Scotland. Dollars, turns out, did not equal shillings and pounds or whatever. Tommy hooked you up after finding out your situation and generously gave you a job at the Garrison as a barmaid, along with Harry, who in time, became your BFF. It wasn't that hard of a job, these men never mixed any drinks and would instead have their alcohol straight like a bunch of monsters, so you kinda ate at this job. Another perk was that these 1920s bitches loved thin eyebrows, so your Y2K overplucked eyebrows fit right in! Full circle shit!

But perhaps the best perk was when Tommy would come in every so often and give you a little LOOK. Oh that shit made you rabid yes it did! It made you all hot down there and you couldn't handle it! You two barely spoke, as he would go into the side room for meetings and whatever mumbo jumbo he got up to with his brothers, but when you did you did your best to bring out that old femme fatale. You knew damn well he'd fuck that shit up. And let's be real so did you. 

You knew that you had Tommy in your CLUTCH when he was once lecturing you - basically there was talk about some Billy Kimber dude amongst him and his brothers and the members of the gang, but you couldn't get past how fun it was to say the man's name, especially in their wild ass accent. You kept incessantly shouting it, to what you thought was a joke, "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA" in every possible moment you could, but it would send all the men into a paranoid shock thinking Billy boy was just around the corner. Obviously, he wasn't, in fact you couldn't point out who Billy Kimber was in a crowd of English, but let's just say - it sent them for a sheer panic. They would constantly tell Tommy to get you to stop, since it was bringing back war trauma basically and never felt fear like that since the war. You personally thought they were being a bunch of pussies but whatevs. 

Anyway Tommy found you at the bar after closing and wanted to have a serious talk with you - no more random BILLY FACKIN KIMBA. As he was lecturing you on the dangers of it, you actually started to disassociate in those eyes of his. You then started to think, 

"What if I just grabbed his hat?"

Those intrusive thoughts grew stronger and stronger as the moments flew by and the more his voice became a bunch of muffled nothing. And they won. 

"GOTCHA HAT!" you spat before taking his flat cap off and running with it, jumping over the bar on some parkour shit and pushing those doors open onto the grimy streets of Birmingham, in an excited manic.  You ran for nothing, since you didn't notice in the adrenaline of it all he didn't move an inch and instead just stood at the bar, stumped. From that point on, he knew you weren't like other girls. Cause let's be real who in their right fucking mind would do that to Tommy Shelby? You did girl xoxo <3

But when your image with Tommy REALLY hit home for the guy, it was one night. One very special night...

You were working the night shift at the Garrison, again. It was another rainy day in London Town, and you were all alone cleaning up. You started to think about Gabbie Hanna, and how low key right she was. You continued to rap to yourself, 

"♪ Overwhelmed, overworked, overpaid. I'm on top of the world sitting pretty ♪ -" 

The doors flew open, causing you to jump pretty high up. You looked to the entrance, it was Tommy. And man was drenched and tired looking, your fave combo. 

He walked over, behind the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He was always a little emo and to himself, but something about him now was really depressing, like man's definitely going through it.

He then took a seat at a table, and looked at you with dead eyes. 

"What's with the frown?" you asked, trying to lighten up the mood but was severely unsuccessful. (Unbeknownst to you he literally just had to put down a horse he thought was cursed :/ it's a canon event!)

He didn't reply. Surprise surprise instead he just drank his whiskey done. You chewed your gum, clueless. 

You just continued to clean, continuing Gabbie's rhyme in your head. 

"♪ Overwhelmed, overwork, underpaid ♪ -"

"Can you sing?"

You turned around again. He fr sounded sad asf. It shocked you, cause did he like, read your mind or sum? 

"Uh, yeah. You want me to sing?"

"Every barmaid knows how to sing."

"Okay, sure. Like acapella?"

He just stared at you, lost again with your mumbo jumbo. 

"Well, I know Lana, I know Nicki, my ex had a song L to the OG-"

"Lana. She sounds nice."

You nodded. "She really is, I love her. Okay, I think I know a song."

"Stand up there," he pointed to a table. You were a bit hesitant, the last time you did that you ate shit like that one girl on YouTube who was also singing on a table and ate shit. But it was for Tommy so you did so anyway. 

You climbed up, took out your gum, flicked it in a bucket, cleared your throat, moved your hair out of your face, and fixed your posture - this was your Pose moment tonight, and Tommy's Billy Porter. 

You then started to sing White Mustang by Lana, but the moment you got to the chorus, which was, well, White Mustang, he told you to stop. 

"Something else, please," he asked demanding yet softly.

"What? Too close to home? Don't worry, Lana does that," you assured, "here, I'll sing a song that hits close to me, it's called How to disappear, it's what do when I'm trying to run from the IRS."

You cleared your throat again and started to sing and girl you ATE THAT SHIT!!!!!

You hit those fucking notes, you were lost in your little own world envisioning yourself in a music video. You understood why America's Got Talent contestants were nervous, cause the pressure? Yeah it's real. And not only is Tommy Billy Porter, he's also Simon Cowell - a yes from that Brit would secure your spot.

Speaking OF Tommy, because momentarily you forgot he was there with you - the man was enthralled, ENCHANTED. He sat silently, the rainwater dripping down his face, as he was taking in every small gesture you made, taking in every musical note that came out of your BBL mouth, (even the voice cracks), and just taking, well, you in. At that very moment, he was in love. YOU were the femme fatale he needed in his life, the one that would complete him, make him feel whole, and would give him purpose. 

Once you were finished, you snapped back into reality and realized you actually weren't in a music video. You looked to Tommy, whose face barely made any other emote other than the one where he looked like he was annoyed, staring up at you. A wave of anxiety flooded over you - you were the center of his world right now, and that pressure was too hot!

You quickly climbed down, and flashed him a big smile. 

"So?" you asked, now LITERALLY feeling more grounded on the ground. 

He didn't respond at first. Moments later, he did. 

"Do you have something nice to wear?"

"Like what?"

"A dress?"

"Um," you thought, trying to remember the contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase, "maybe. Why?"

He rose up, getting ready to leave from the fear and insecurity of the emotions he just experienced. "I want to take you to the races."

"We're gonna race?"

"Horses. Horse races," he corrected you, making his way to the exit. "Be ready by tomorrow, I'll collect you before noon."

"Oh my god, like a date?" you were too slow to come to the conclusion because by that time he'd already left. The excitement quickly mixed in with the anxiety, which wasn't the best feeling in the world. You knew in anticipation for tomorrow you were gonna need SOMETHING to take the edge off, so before closing up you snatched some bottles of alcohol to take to your flat. You weren't really sure what exactly they were, but what you did know was that it was gonna taste like fucking ass. But when mama needs her go go juice, she TAKES her go go juice.

The following morning you woke up at the crack ass of dawn to get ready - you knew you needed TIME. Not that it takes a while for you to get all pretty, girl you're already naturally stunning! but time and place - you needed to stunt today. Also, you already weren't a morning person so you didn't trust yourself to snooze. Actually, you barely slept at all last night since you were too caught up about what makeup you were gonna do, how you were gonna style your hair, what dress to wear and most of all, your ass was just asked out by Tommy. You wondered if this is how nervy the soldiers felt when they encountered bin Laden's bunker. 

You had already finished your makeup and hair, looking pretty snatched. Too bad your phone's been dead for the past couple of weeks and you couldn't take pictures. But anyway you did the usual 1920's makeup tutorial you remember watching on some Buzzfeed video a while ago, pretending you were doing a Vogue makeup tutorial in your mirror and talking step by step your process. You curled your hair into the 1920's bob they were obsessed with back then, packing on an obscene amount of gel just to keep that wave stiff. You struggled but nonetheless you got it girl. 

You were now staring at the remaining contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase - let's just say, you had nothing. That's a lie you did have SOMETHING but was it appropriate for the time? No. Like if you're going to the Renaissance Fair, your ass isn't gonna wear some Skims ass dress. But guess what? That's actually all you had. 

It was a black, tight, spaghetti-strap slip-on dress that was above the knee - definitely NOT the vibe for the era, maybe a bit too revealing? But what other choice do you have? You're I <3 Surfer Boys tee? Exaaaaactly. 

You slipped it on and was taken aback - you know how you forget how good you look when it's been a while since you've dressed up and you actually surprise yourself? Yeah that was you right now. Kim would be proud to see you in that dress, in fact, she'd probably cheer you on to wear it proudly at the races. Even though she wasn't your favorite sister, you imagining her company right now really did help.  

You kept feeling yourself in the mirror - girl you looked GOOD. You put on some black heels, some perfume and that was it - you were simply that bitch now. 

"Oh my god," you thought to yourself, "Tommy's gonna flip. Shit, I'd get with me."

And just like that, you heard the honks of a car coming from outside your flat. You peered through the window, and there you saw some vintage, rinky dink ass car. 

"Oh, fuck!" you shouted, mainly to yourself, but they heard. "Coming!" you called out the window. 

It was actually happening - oh fuck he's here oh yes he is. Quickly, you grabbed one of the bottles you confiscated and took the fattest swig. It was the most horrendous, grotesque warm vodka you've ever consumed. But it would have to do.

You quickly made it downstairs, taking a moment before appearing outside to calm yourself down and make it seem as if you effortlessly just went down some stairs without a care or worry in the world. You made sure to grab a fur coat, faux of course, and your keys. 

Down by the car was Tommy in the driver's seat, with his two brothers, Arthur and John, seated in the back. They all looked at you in awe - they had never seen so much of a woman's legs in their entire life. 

"Bloody foockin' hell, Tommy! What do we have here?!" Arthur exclaimed. 

"Jesus, Tommy," said John, "I didn't think it was bloody possible for you!"

Tommy stared at you for a few seconds longer, a bit taken aback himself. 

Tommy ignored his brothers and exited his side, helping you into the passenger's. You got a whiff of his cologne that brought out an animalistic, innate horndogness of you that you remembered to keep in check. Now was not the time but it was admittedly hard cause the man just looked so good. 

He climbed back into his side, then started driving off, the cobblestone road causing you to feel even more nauseous than you already did. You didn't realize it, but you were mute for the first ten minutes from how disassociated you were. That vodka was hitting deep and swimming in circles in your empty tummy - you hadn't had breakfast, essentially raw dogging and running on nothing, because you knew if you munched on some Panera bread, you would've thrown it up from the nervousness. You were now really accepting the fact that it was a grave mistake. 

"Well, what's wrong with her?" Arthur bellowed, "is her bloody tongue cut off?"

Tommy gave you a quick little side eye, then fully turned to you after realizing you were, indeed, gone. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned with a TOUCH of attitude. Or maybe they were both the same you couldn't differentiate it when it came to Tommy. 

"Uh, yeah," you cleared your throat and sat up straight, "just really taking in the moment, you know? It's my first race."

Tommy turned back to the road. 

"You guys look great!" you complimented, wanting to move on. 

"Why thank you, Miss Y/N. I shall wear your kind words like a medal from tha war," said Arthur. "You look like one of them silent film stars!"

You blushed. "So, wanna listen to some music?" you suggested, hating sitting in quiet cars.

Tommy scrunched his brows. "What do you mean?"

You looked down to where the touchscreen on the car WOULD be, forgetting this car was quite literally just a box on wheels with an engine attached. AUX and Bluetooth are not in the vocabulary of these people's brains for another couple more decades. 

"Like, carpool karaoke," you suggested. 

"What?" John asked. 

"Bloody hell is that?" Arthur also asked. You also forgot, these English men wouldn't face the atrocity that is James Corden in ALSO a couple more decades. 

Tommy scoffed, a small little smile on his face but nonetheless a smile. He gets it. "Singing. She likes to sing."

"Is that right?" smiled Arthur, "wow, you've really done a number on Tommy boy over here! He's now a fan of the musical arts!"

The two brothers began laughing and smacking Tommy on the shoulders and head in a playful, men-in-a-gang, manner. He smirked. 

"I'll start, I have the perfect song - this one's called Off To The Races," you turned to Tommy, "also by Lana."

You two smiled at the little inside joke y'all had going on now. You then started singing, really into it like the night before. You were hitting those "scarlet, starlet" notes a little too good. Once you wrapped up, you left the three men in a silence that lasted for a couple minutes. Except Tommy, he was always silent. But his brothers were a little confused, but decided to just roll with it since you made Tommy happy. You thought they were just floored by your abilities. 

"Lovely," John finally said, hesitant and low to break the silence.  

"You've got yourself a bloody mental one here, Tommy," said Arthur. Tommy smiled, you were indeed a little unwell but it was okay to him. So was he <3

It had been about an hour after your arrival, you had been helping yourself to a shit ton of food by a table, stocking up like a bear ready for hibernation. You were literally the only one there, and you assumed so because the cigarettes and alcohol these Brits were fucking up were acting as appetite suppressants. Your fat ass wasn't complaining. 

Besides being the only one actually eating something of nutritional value, you were getting HEAVY looks and side eyes for your outfit. You didn't care, your ass looked good from all the walking around the pub you've been doing. Upon entering, Tommy noticed the looks to. You whispered in his ear, "it's cause none of these interbred Habsburg jaws know what a real woman a real BITCH looks like 💅." 

He didn't get exactly what you meant, but got the vibe and he liked it. He, actually, loved that you were the center of attention here, as you SHOULD be. Afterwards, he told you he had some business to attend to and knowing you were hungry, led you to the food table. He said he'd get you after he was done, and man was taking his time. But again you didn't care you were just munching away. 

"Try the scone, darling, it's absolutely dashing!" a rich, socialite said to you. Her costume was just as amazing as everyone else. 

"You know, I've been avoiding it but, maybe I will. Why not?" you smiled, grabbing one and taking a chomp. It tasted like actual ass but you have a great poker face. You moaned like Mark Weins, even hitting his crazy facial expressions. "It's great!" you mumbled. She smiled and talked on about something you didn't really pay attention to. 

Eventually, Tommy came up behind you and grabbed your arm gently. Had this been any other man, you would've pistol whipped them in the face with the rock of a scone in your hand, but it was Tommy so you just got all the butterflies inside. You turned and smiled, chewing your food and swallowing it almost hole to say something and not just stand there. 

"Fhey Tomyif," you mumbled through the dry scone. 

"Feeling better, eh?" he said in a low tone. He seem a little more cheery, which made you cheery. He was enjoying himself, as he should. And so were you, as you should. Let's just say, the vibes were good. 

"Omg, def," you said, finally swallowing the last bit of food, "you know, you should try eating something. I know you don't do it much, but, I feel like it can be a great experience for you."

He looked into your eyes. He loved that you cared. A soft smile came on his lips. 

"Not hungry."

You thought for a minute. "But like, I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten since France."

"Maybe later. Do you dance?"

"Do I dance? With a little spicy marg in me, Tommy, it's over." But alas, the bartender would have no clue what a spicy marg was, so you kinda had to retract your statement, "But no yeah I can dance sober too no biggy."

"Good," he said, grabbing your hand gently and leading you to the crowded dance floor. You turned back to wave at the socialite lady, who gave you a little wink. My girl knew you scored. 

All you knew was that the Brits LOVED their Charleston dancing, something that you definitely needed Just Dance to teach you. But she wasn't here. You were frightened at the thought, but when Tommy pulled you in, and you two just started going at it, it was as natural as your BBL ass. That one Pride and Prejudice dancing sequence had you mastered in the art. 

With his hand at your waist and the other in your hand, and your other hand around his neck feeling his buzzcut, there was no force on this earth that could stop you. You honestly just moved your legs around and were great. 

Up close to him, you were again in touch with his cologne. You needed to control yourself, but it didn't help that he was like three inches from your face. In this sea of people, it just felt like you two and no one else. 

As you two were fucking up that dance floor to that 1920s jazz music, you looked around at the other faces of people dancing around you. Some you caught staring, others pretended not to. You smiled at the fact your hot ass was intimidating. 

"Man, if I were to do the Woah here, they'd all lose their fucking minds," you thought. "What if I like, just started twerking? No, I can't. I can't let them win."  You knew those intrusive thoughts cannot get another W against you again. The last time that happened, you were expelled from theater school. You couldn't, you couldn't embarrass Tommy - but the urge was too strong. 

Almost as if Tommy read your mind, he pulled you aside the dance floor. 

"I want to introduce you to someone," he said. He then took you to a table where a man with the craziest middle part and mustache sat, beside another who looked like an owl with glasses and other carbon copies of English dudes. At the table was a fuck ton of coins and money, along with drinks and clouds of cigarette smoke from ashtrays. 

"Y/N, this is Billy Kimber. He owns the tracks here," Tommy said. Oh my god it's him, its Billy fackin Kimba...

You weren't sure why Tommy would introduce you, but you took it as a compliment. Maybe he just wanted to stunt on this guy? Who knows. 

The man with the goofy ass fucking name had a wry grin on his face that you did not like at all. The vibe was not good no more around this guy. He stuck out his hand to you, and you obliged very hesitantly. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. With that a wave of disgust flew over you, feeling as though you've been stained. Ew gross. 

"Lovely ta meet ya," the man said. He rose, "Mista Shelby, might I ask your lady for a dance?" 

"Oh, no thanks! <3" you said, a welcoming smile on your face. Tommy and Billy both looked at you as if you just said the most out of pocket shit. The owl man and English robots also gave you daring looks.

"Wot?" Kimber spat. 

You almost laughed. 

"Uh, yeah like, I don't wanna dance." you said, mimicking Tana Mongeau's "a bleach and tone".

Billy saw absolute red. He was livid. He turned to Tommy, who, too, was speechless. 

"The fuck are you on about?" Billy spat again. You really weren't sure what he didn't understand.  

You then realized - there was no getting out of this. You didn't want to cause a scene, cause you kinda already did. So you again invited those intrusive thoughts. 

"Fine," you said, clearing your throat and standing straight. "I'll dance."

You then pretended to throw something in the air, looking up in an anticipatory, worried way. They all looked up too, confused. 

"Oh my god, do you see it? Mr. Kimber, where is it?!" you said as if a bomb were to fall. 

He looked up and then to you, growing increasingly worried. He was too in shock to speak. 

"Where is it?! Where is it?! Do you see it?!" you kept looking up at basically nothing, but you knew it was something. You kept them on their toes, scared at this point. Your feet dancing softly, they were ready for impact. It was time to come down. "There! There it is and -"

With that, you pulled it down and committed the hardest, most nastiest Woah you've ever done. The last time it was that riveting was during middle school lunches. 

When you brought that down, the pose you ended on had your head down and body limp, as if you were Aang in the Avatar state during the episode where he was fighting Zuko's papa and had to unlock and harness such force.

You left them taken aback, disoriented. They didn't know what to do or how to react. You looked fucking insane. 

You took a deep breath and stood back up straight, satisfied. Once you realized that the room had fallen completely silent, even the musicians, you felt you needed to excuse yourself. 

"Um, so," you struggled to find the words. You felt the anxiety creeping up again, the lightheadedness arising. And most of all, it was time for you to empty yourself. "I've, uh," you thought harder and harder - "I'VE GOT AN ITCHY BUM!"

You split, running and running as fast as your pumps could take you. You ran and ran, it was always the most liberating activity honestly. All that dancing with Tommy, the nerves piled up along with the hors d'oeuvres - they lead to this very moment. 

You searched round and round, desperately for a bathroom. No where in this bitch was there a sign or indication, and time was running slim. This was some real Mission Impossible, Tom Cruise is on a time crunch, shit. You pushed through crowds of drunk, belligerent and yelling people, feeling your body slowly succumb to the intense body heat. 

Eventually, you spotted a familiar face. You ran. 

"Arthur!" you yelled. He spun and looked back to you. 

"Y/N! What is it?" he asked, worried. You looked a bit wild. "Are you alright? Where's Tommy?"

"He's fine, he's," you thought, "somewhere. Look, it doesn't fucking matter."

"The mouth on you -"

"Where the fuck is the bathroom in this bitch? Huh? The loo? The toilet? The washroom whatever the fuck y'all call it?"

"Well, I was on me way. It's just over there -" he pointed and you bolted. 

As you were entering, you literally ran full force into the socialite from earlier. She wasn't angry, just like Arthur, worried. 

"You look absolutely GHASTLY darling!"

"Girl move -"

You went into one of the stalls and laid your worst. Thankfully since it was a Skims dress, all you had to do was pull your Victoria Secret thong off and go. You felt bad for the ladies in their dresses and stockings and shit here - convenience was definitely not a factor yet. 

After you cleared your business, (and subsequently the whole bathroom), you stepped out of your stall, refreshed and effortless. You washed your hands, fixed your hair and makeup just a bit in the mirror, and felt yourself again. You took mental selfies, since it was all you had. 

As you left the bathroom, you heard the grunts and yells of men. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but it sounded like some shit was fr going down. You crept to the source of the noise, coming from the men's bathroom. At first, you thought someone was probably constipated, but instead it was Arthur, John and a few others absolutely rocking this guy's shit. They were beating him, cutting him with the razors sewn into their goofy caps, and curb stomping his head into the sink. So sink stomping? 

You made a gross face and walked back out. "Yeesh."

After all, it wasn't the first time you were so close to the mob.

 You remember your number one golden rule you learned from earlier during your time with Pablo: Hear nothing, see nothing!

After walking past the dance floor again, you were relieved to see that everyone and everything had gone back to normal - people were back to dancing, drinking and chatting - back to the script. You actually forgot this was supposed to be a horse race. 

But, there was no Tommy anywhere. You searched and searched, yet you couldn't find that 75% shaved head anywhere. 

You then walked back outside by the entrance, where you saw a woman smoking. You went up to her. 

"May I bum a smoke?" you asked in your best English accent, trying to speak their language. She turned to you and pulled one out, lighting it for you. "Thank you so much, you look lovely, darling."

The woman smiled. You loved hyping the girls up!

"You too. I must admit, I find your choice in wardrobe absolutely admirable and daring!"

You smiled, "Aww, really?" you quickly corrected your accent, "Oh dear, many thanks, many thanks yes."

You took a hit of that cigarette. Shit was gross. But when in Rome...

You and the woman spoke for some time, deep in conversation. It was refreshing to meet another girl here, safe to just talk shit and have a break from all the drunken men and oh no there's Tommy. 

You saw him approaching you and he looked again, upset and emo. It didn't exactly burst your bubble, you really liked Tommy, but were afraid that you possibly embarrassed him in front of the Bilbo Timberland from earlier. 

You bided the woman goodbye and walked towards Tommy. He then took you two back to his car and started off onto the road. By now, it was nearing evening. The car ride was pretty silent, you were looking out admiring the brief countryside. Shit was beautiful like a Microsoft Home Screen. 

"So, what's wrong?" you asked. "You're like, down in the dumps again. And where are your brothers?"

"They'll find their own way home," Tommy said, low and serious, the usual. 

"So is that it? Y'all got into a fight or something?"

He let out a deep breath. "I told Billy Kimber he could have a dance with you."

"Ew, why?"

"Well," he didn't want to say 'business', cause like okayyyyy shout out to 1920's gender roles!, "because you look...nice. You look pretty."

You blushed hard, trying to control your smile. Seeing this side of Tommy was like a sneak peak, it was so exclusive!

"Oh my god, Tommy, are you flirting with me? I didn't even know you had that setting available!"

He smirked, his frown OFFICIALLY being turned upside down. He chucked in disbelief of himself. He was falling. 

Once you made it back to the neighborhood, the sun had gone down and the streets were once again pretty dark. Smoky depressing England like what the Smiths wrote about you get the vibe. 

Anyway he took you to his flat, saying that he wanted to "show you something". You weren't sure what that something was, it could've honestly been like a dead body but actually it wasn't! It was dinner <3

"I've uh," he started, not crazy about the fact that he was falling for you, "I've prepared dinner."

You gasped and made a very soy ass face. How absolutely gentlemanly of him!

"Oh my god, no you didn't Tommy!" you said, "You're so sweet, that's like, so sweet! You shouldn't have!"

He smiled softly, in a "yeah I did that" sort of way. And he did just that. You were 90% sure whatever was inside he didn't cook, but it's the THOUGHT that counts!

He escorted you inside like the gentlemen he was, shutting the front door behind you two. The lights inside the flat were dim, and by the table were two plates. Upon closer inspection, you were absolutely FLOORED!!!!

"No way - tikka fucking masala?!" you exclaimed. He chuckled and it was hot. 

You walked closer and saw two very familiar, VERY FAMILIAR, colorful orbs. You turned them to the side. All this time since you'd last seen one, you forgot what they were or looked like. 

"AND FUCKING BUZZBALLS?!?!?!" you said. "Tommy, how the fuck did you even get these?"

He pulled the chair out for you, and you scooted your big fat butt in. 

"I know people. It's my job."

You couldn't help but smirk.

"It's so hot when a man has connections," your dirty Jezebel mind thought. 

He cracked the BuzzBalls opened and poured them for each of you, like it was some high end expensive ass champagne. You watched him, relishing in the moment - you had your GRIP on this man. Chivalry was in fact, despite popular belief, not dead. But it was also the 1920s so you forgot about that bit. 

You looked down at your plate - you were going to fuck. this. up. He'd never seen this side of you - the side that would tear your meal like a fucking ape cracking open a coconut with a rock for water. You thought if you should warn him, but told yourself - he needs to know ME for ME. 

You gripped that naan, grabbed a fat ass chunk of that chicken - and the moment it hit your lips, you had started giggling like Mark Weins again but subtract the poker face. You had forgotten the long lost love of spice other than pepper and salt. You could've cried if it hadn't been for the fact your makeup looked too good. 

You two dined and wined (there's no wine) for the next hour, talking and talking and chewing and chewing. Seeing him eat was hard for your mind to process, you just never thought he was capable of it. Anyway as he was talking you felt bad because you were zoning out looking at him as if he was another dish of tikka masala. He had such a sigma vibe to him, maybe alpha? (I don't know I'm not familiar with gym bro brain rot TikTok lingo but you get the vibe.) He was just so manly and yet so gentle and calculating, it kinda scared you because like he could literally have everything set up to kill you right now and you wouldn't know cause you were too charmed. But then you realized, he wouldn't have done all this shit for someone he wanted dead. No girl, he just wanted YOU! Your toes tickled at the thought, and those butterflies? They were fluttering. 

For the first time, you had anxiety but hadn't felt the need to shit yet. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol calming your nerves, or the chill vintage ambience going on, or Tommy's comfortable/intimidating presence. In other words, this felt natural and you were fucking with it. 

There were several times you needed to burp, but forgetting you weren't with your girls, you had to swallow that shit deep. After all, girls don't burp. You tried to keep your femme fatale composure. 

You were the light he needed in his very dark emo life. It had been a very long time since he had a genuine laugh, despite the fact he might have had no idea what the fuck you were talking about or saying half the time, but seeing you all bubbly and happy made him feel content. He was finally being vulnerable, letting go a little and just, well, living life. Being free. #livelaughlove

"What will you do? When you've saved enough for Scotland?" he asked. 

The idea brought you down a bit. You forgot about that shit. "Oh, well, I don't know. I kinda like the barmaid stuff, so maybe I'll try to find something similar there?"

You were eating his leftovers. He didn't eat much but liked watching you eat like it was a mukbang. He loved a girl who eats. 

"Why don't you stay?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with you as he poured himself another BuzzBall. You could tell he wasn't a fan but drank it anyway for you because you liked it. 

You again couldn't help but smirk. You loved seeing a guy CRACK!!!

"Do you want me to?" you asked, biting your tongue like the white mom. You hadn't done that in a while either, this English life didn't permit it. 

He took a sip from his drink. "Perhaps you'd be interested in working for me."

"Aren't I already, low-key though?"

"Garrison's not mine," he said. "Do you know anything about bookkeeping?"

He lit a cigarette and offered you one. You took it, not wanting to offend. 

"Well, I gotta tell you," you said, "math is NOT my forte. But oh my god yes babe thanks!"

You ran over and jumped to hug him, he hugged tightly back, he then threw you on the hard table, pushing everything to the floor and you felt his member pressed against your leg. He began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your Skims dress clean off, and started kissing your labia.

"This...this is a bloody fucking labia," he says. 

You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the boy from Birmingham in. This is it. No missed flights, no drunk men to call you Jezebels, no lung cancer from cigarettes and factory smoke, no IRS or IRA, nothing - just you and Tommy.

You and Tommy laid on his bed, in each other's arms. Since his bed was high-key smaller than a twin, it was pretty cramped, but neither of you minded. You two were smoking (him a cigarette and you your Elf bar), reminding you of that one band Cigarettes after Sex and how Tommy would've liked them, but they wouldn't drop music for another couple years in this time zone. 

You two talked softly as the rain patterned on the window's glass, some of the street lights peering through the curtain. If there was some incense on, it'd be a vibe. You originally thought his opium pipe was an incense holder but you were very mistaken. 

" - so yeah, that's why people picked team Jolie. But in all honesty, I feel bad for Jennifer, you know? Like, he literally cheated on her. Over what? A fucky boof ass movie? It was ass," you hit your Elf bar, refusing to accept it was dead. "I guess it doesn't matter now, cause NONE of them are together anymore. So what do you think? Aniston or Jolie?"

He took a drag of cigarette as he stared at the ceiling. He made an unsure face. 

"I'm not familiar with them."

"True. Fine, let me think of something you'd know. Like something English drama," you thought. "Okay, team Blur or team Oasis? I hear there was a lot of blood shed during the battle of Britpop."

He again took another drag of his cigarette. Anyone would be looking at this and thinking he found you hella annoying, but he didn't. He just genuinely thought you had a great imagination. 

"Neither, I guess. I don't have time to listen to music."

He was right, which was why he loved when you sang at the pub and most of all, to him during your private Lana concerts. 

As time went on, you were in DEEP. Scotland? Yeah never heard of her. Not only were you working for Tommy doing whatever bookkeeping is, but he had even introduced you to his family, which you KNOW damn well is a sign that shit is serious. 

You loved the Shelby's, even though they were a bit off their shit sometimes. But it wasn't anything new, you'd been well familiar with crazy families before. You loved talking shit with Polly, going to the 'cinema' with Ada, fucking with Arthur until he got mad, supplying John with his toothpicks and making little Finn believe in the fake number 'derf'. You got along with them well, they saw you as a perfect fit for the family - something different, vibrant and bright! You loved them and they loved you! Polly would even tell you in confidence that you made Tommy a happier person, something he lost after the war. Getting Polly's stamp of approval was literally it, that's all you needed. 

And you and Tommy? Yeah y'all were a thing. An item. During work hours he'd give you little looks here and there, and so did you, as if it was some secret office romance. But it wasn't secret literally everyone knew you were his girl. And that's power. 

You learned the ropes pretty fast, again it wasn't your first rodeo in the mob. It was like Colombia all over again, but we don't talk about that. Tommy fucked with you having a secretive criminal past, he thought it was pretty hot. 

Besides bookkeeping, you still worked in the bar. All the patrons loved when you sang Lana, it just went on to prove that she's indeed a poet. They eventually memorized them and sang along, which annoyed you sometimes cause you just wanted to hear yourself and they sounded like ass when they were drunk. But you just go along with it! 

Some of the songs you in the pub (and Tommy's room) sang included:

Bartender (cause hello? You're LITERALLY at a bar)

Shades of Cool (for Tommy's big blue ass eyes (you wished they could hear that guitar solo cause the acapella didn't do it justice :( ))

Cola (singing this for the fist time made you realize you had to censor a couple things, they weren't a fan of that intro)

Stargirl's Interlude (Lana's part obvi, but it's again for Tommy cause he's your starboy <3 he loved when you hit those high notes)

Brooklyn Baby (you avoided it cause it reminded you of your ex)

Video Games (hello it's for Tommy)

Love Song (this makes them all cry)

Money Power Glory (again hello it's Tommy, but this wouldn't hit until he's a member in Parliament)

National Anthem (being in England for so long made you forget the United States anthem)

Fucked My Way Up To The Top (literally you rn)

Speaking OF a bunch of drunk men, the gang loved you. You thought you were like the comedic relief of the little theater thing they had going on here. You had to admit, you admired the method acting everyone had done so far. It only, to you, proved that it worked, since you were GENUINELY left in deep in a psychosis where you're just a 1920's flapper girl. 

There was some rules and etiquettes you needed to remember, however. One, was of course, the "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA", and another was you finding out Tommy did NOT fuck with brujeria or anything dark magic related. You thought it was kinda funny, he reminded you of those Reddit r/atheist accounts but at the same time, he was low-key scared of zodiacs. Not that he didn't like it, he was paranoid at them. You literally asked his zodiac sign and he responded very sternly and seriously, 

"Y/N, don't."

You then said. "That's a very Capricorn thing to say."

Besides that, everything was great and chill.

It wasn't long before this annoying ass Irish inspector dude pulled up to the pub. Once he saw you, he locked eyes with you and approached the bar. You didn't like his vibe in the slightest. In fact, no one in the pub liked his vibe either. They all fell silent when he entered. 

"Excuse, me, ma'am," he said. You turned, not really wanting to talk. 

"Yeah, what?"

"Do you know about a Thomas Shelby?" 

"Yeah, what about him?" you didn't fuck with anyone who referred to Tommy as Thomas. Like?

"Do you know where I can find him?"

You were really starting to not fuck with his vibe even more. Something was def fishy. 

"You should really go back to being with the dinosaurs," you said. He didn't like that. 

He leaned in. "Do you know who I am? Who do ya think you arrrrrre?" the R's went very crazy. 

And just in time, as if he was your guardian angel, Tommy opened the doors to the little room beside the bar. Babes was hearing everything and he was NOT gonna let this dude talk shit to his girl like that. 

"You need to speak to me? Inspector Campbell, is it?" he said. "I've read about you in the papers."

Tommy then took Campbell soup outside to speak. Before leaving, he (Tommy) gave you a wink and you winked back. You knew that was code for 'let's hit my flat later'. Little did you know, this would be the last time.....

P.S. - when you asked one of the men at the pub who he was and someone replied IRA, you originally interpreted that as the Irish IRS and shat yourself. You didn't know how to tell Tommy your time was ticking, they'd located you - but you were not going down without a fight. 

You were both in his bedroom as usual, he was lying in bed smoking, you were hitting the Elf bar, rain pattering, English people yelling outside yeah you get the vibe. Anyway, he asked you to sing - a request you took quite seriously. You knew this was his only time of relaxation and you had to make the best of it before you break the news you needed to escape again.

You rose, sitting up and looking down at his BBL face. 

"Lana or Nicki?"

"Lana."

"Can I do Nicki? You never ask for her."

He took a drag and nodded. "Go ahead."

This, now this would be where you fucked up. Let's just say, you wish you could wipe out this night from your memory. Alas, all things need to come to an end, even the good ones, unfortunately. You'd never thought it would be like this though tbh. 

You stood up on the bed, as usual, cleared your throat all that bullshit. You thought and thought, "what's a good Nicki song? What's fitting?"

And then it hit you - it was definitely a deep cut. 

He had a soft smile on his lips, watching you as you were thinking. Little did he know, you were going to harness a part of yourself you hadn't seen in a while. This was a mode you unlocked that was such a release after, and you knew you had to go all or nothing. 

You cleared your throat. 

"Okay, so this one's kinda not AS well known, but it has British themes I think work well," you prefaced. "Okay, here I go."

The moment you opened your mouth, you let the spirit of Nicki come in. And once she's in, there's no going back. And Tommy was not prepared for that. You then started Nicki's verse in Sean Kingston's "Born To Be Wild".  

"♪ If you will die, then why would you try and if you reply, a suit and a tie is what I will buy then you will be mine because you and I were born to be wild, I am Martha you King Arthur who knew you would land me, I’ve been known to eat these rappers, cook em like chef Ramsey - ♪"

You were too deep to notice Tommy's rapid increasing worry and fear as you spat out those lyrics. It was too overstimulating for him to handle. You ate, but that was just want concerned him - he didn't know you were rapping. In fact, no one at this current time did. 

" ♪ - Mission accomplished, your my accomplice cover of vogue yeah ima go topless ima go bonkers ima go crazy ima get reckless then have a baby then hang the baby off the balcony teach him to moon walk tell em he's Japanese - ♪ "

No, he thought you were putting a curse on him. No, he was CONVINCED. 

"Stop! STOP!" Tommy rose from his bed, pushing the sheets off of him. 

You were shaken out of your trance, confused. You became worried, what happened? Did you miss something? Were y'all in danger?

"Wait, Tommy -"

"Enough! Stop!" you had never seen panic in that man's eyes. Never. And you didn't like it. He was looking straight at you, talking to YOU. 

"Stop what -"

"You're a bloody fucking witch!" he yelled, rubbing his hand through his hair while the other TIGHT on his hip. This was his evaluating stance. "That's what this is - that's what it's been."

"Uh, Tommy," you said, more annoyed that he interrupted your moment, "I'm no witch. I'm just, well, Y/N."

He took a deep breath, now facing away from you. He couldn't believe it. All this time, all that mumbo jumbo that came out of your mouth, all this time - they were just that. Curses. No wonder he didn't understand them, you were literally speaking in tongues this whole time. 

You walked towards him, slowly. This man needed that opium right now. 

"Tommy -"

"Leave. LEAVE!" he yelled, grabbing your messy bun, and doing what you didn't think would happen again for a very long time - he beybladed you. 

Spin. Spin. Spin.

"LET IT BLOODY RIP!"

And there it was. 

And there you went. 

He twisted you in the air round and round, ready for a different kind of liftoff. He flung you out the window, you crashed through and onto the cobblestone streets of Birmingham. 

That was it. All these months, all this rehearsing - it all came to an end. On a random Tuesday evening? The Tommy you once thought you knew was no more - after all this time, he never trusted you? Didn't he know who you were? Like dude he watched you be vulnerable at fuck up a tikka masala. TWO of them at that. 

Anyway, you realized maybe the entirety of UK just wasn't your vibe, anyway. With this 'IRA' now in town, your ass needed to be grass. Before leaving, you broke into his horse racing betting place whatever it's called and committed a little fun heist, taking all the money. What? A girl needed to sustain herself in this economy. Dog eat dog world shit. And plus, all your stuff was back at his apartment and you were DEF not gonna go back. Who knows? Was HE working for the Men In Black? Wining and dining you to gain his trust and he turned you in? Maybe he did you a favor in the end. 

And maybe you could upgrade to the latest iPhone when you got to London with all this horse money? With a shilling and a pound, the possibilities seemed endless. 

You walked down the streets, sad, but again more confused and a little relieved, onto your next destination, wherever that maybe. Anywhere Y/N went, it was all just a big adventure of a girl having fun being, well, just a girl having fun in this world. And THAT'S all that matters. 

Hope you enjoyed!

xoxo, 

~Sam St. Clair

[starlightdelrey]

axe throwing - a.v + h.m

spoilers for heart break high season one and two !!!!!

anthony vaughn x harper mclean

request: hi !! could you do a sweet first date type fic for ant and harper ?? i dont really see a lot of love for them so far but I AM OBSESSED! I was thinking maybe they'd go axe throwing for a first date since harper mentioned she wanted to go. ant is lowkey scared he's going to get a limb cut off then overcompensates w the bravado just bc he can see how much she's enjoying herself. u dont have to do this at all obviously but it was just some thoughts i had popping up

in which two of the hartley kids finally get a moment of peace together (or ant thinks he's gonna lose his arm)

lowercase intended

hbh masterlist + main masterlist

cw: mentions of past trauma, mostly fluff, end of season 2, i basically made up my own timeline to make it work, ive never been to axe throwing so i made some stuff up, not proofread !!!!

---

the hartley high kids were stuck in a sort of limbo - since the school had burn down not even two weeks before the term break, the school board had decided everybody deserved an extended break to help 'unpack their trauma'. almost everyone thought it was a load of bullshit but couldn't fight having almost a month off school.

harper had been struggling, although she'd never admit it to anyone. it was unfair - every time she almost healed from one experience, a brand new one happened. darren had recently been going through a housewife phase, and in one cooking attempt, they'd accidentally set off the fire alarm. it caused the blonde to shut down for almost 24 hours, the experience of being locked in a smoke-filled projection room taking over her thoughts.

ant had accidentally been a lurker for quite a few of these mini events - like witnessing chook stare down harper at the housewarming party. when woodsy had called for harper and amerie during the fire, his whole body had been filled with a sense of dread (although he'd never tell harper how he'd fought to try and get to her).

the two decided to keep everything between them as light as possible, which had led to today's activity being set up.

harper dashed out of her shared home with darren and ca$h (their fake moans and tips for safe sex following her) and started up her borrowed car from robert.

when she drove up to ants place, he was sat outside, waiting already. harper couldn't fight the grin that stretched across her face as he wandered over to the passenger side. anthony had taken the concept of axe throwing and lumberjacks very seriously, and had dressed for the part - a plaid button up tossed, un-buttoned, over a cropped white tank top and a pair of baggy jeans.

he got in and immediately leant forward to kiss the blonde, and she pulled away with a smirk. "what's with the gay lumberjack cosplay?"

"i'm breaking lumberjack stereotypes, harps. be happy for me." but he glanced at her with a lazy grin and she shook her head, trying not to get distracted.

as they drove, ant insisted on being on aux. this meant that when spider called him, the audio was put on speaker.

"heya, spider."

"ant, you'll never-"

"hey spider!" harper piped up chirpily, and spiders whole demeanour over the phone changed.

"fuck off, harper."

"wait until i tell missy what you just said, dickhead. don't think i won't steal your girl." harper grinned as she said it, and ant turned to her quickly.

"hey!"

"you wish, harps."

---

"i actually don't think we need to throw axes," ant stood stiffly, his gloves shoved in his pocket and axe in one hand.

harper, who was in the middle of putting her safety glasses on, paused and stared. "what?"

"i just like- don't feel like losing an arm today. ya' know?" he looked at her hopefully, and harper raised a brow.

"don't worry, baby. i'll protect you."

the nickname flicked a switch in his mind, and immediately, ant was back to his usual antics. "no need, m'lady. i will be protecting you."

glasses on, harper turned to stick her tongue out at him - only to be met with the flash of a camera. "ew, ant. i look proper munted with these on. delete that."

he didn't respond, and to be fair, she didn't really care all that much anyways. the two walked forward with their safety gear fully on, prepared to let out some of their anger.

at first, they mess around a bit, until harper finally gets her axe to actually hit the target. from then on, it's a full-on war - they're making up mini competitions, tallying points, and getting into arguments.

halfway through, harper's got 12,368 points while ant has -12.

"we should totally turn our competition into a drinking game, harps. it would be so fun."

"and dangerous." harper braces herself and launches her axe at the target. "ant, we suck balls right now - imagine what it'd be like if everyone was drunk?"

"oh. ohhhhhhhh! yeah, i didn't even think of that."

"of course you didn't, babe."

ant grabs harper and yanks her closer to him, hugging her. some employee chides them for being dangerous.

"you're so pretty, harper." he's looking down at her, grinning, harpers cheeks are pink.

"you're not so bad yourself, anthony." her hand wraps around the back of his neck and pulls him closer.

---

"i cannot believe that we seriously got kicked out for making out!" harper exclaims in the car, pulling out of the parking lot.

"it was totally worth it." ant's still dazed, and he fumbles plugging his phone in.

it goes silent except for the frank ocean playing in the background, until ants phone buzzes with a notification. on instinct, harper's eyes flick to the screen - and her heart jolts.

his lock screen is a recent picture - one of harper, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched. her tongues poking out and her hairs a little wild, but she looks happy.

"ant! is that the picture you just took of me?"

"of course it is. can't get it out of my head, it's seriously driving me crazy." he looks down at the picture, a slight blush on his face.

"you just wait until i get a new picture of you, vaughn."

---

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

Fuck buddies X

Warning: searing, drinking, smut Author note: it's a superrrrr long one! Not sure if there'll be a part 11 but I love this story so much so never say never!

It had been almost a month and a half since you last saw Colson. You keep replaying that night in your head over and over again. You desperately try to cling to anything about that night that can give you comfort. The way he kissed you, the way he spoke to you so softly, how he wanted to comfort you when you cried. You felt yourself going through the motions of your day, not really focusing on anything in particular. You’d get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, clean the dishes and go to bed. The weekends were for laundry, housework and grocery shopping. Being a two bedroom apartment with a tiny kitchen and just you living in it though, that hardly filled your day and you weren’t much of a chef so groceries were just the essentials.

You can feel yourself becoming more and more reclusive as the days go by. You haven’t really seen or spoken to any of your friends. Not because they’ve been ignoring you, it’s more you ignoring them. You’re not trying to be rude, you just don’t really feel like talking to anyone these days. Jacob has texted you a couple of times here and there but as your responses grew more and more blunt, his messages stopped coming. You’re trying to give yourself a clean break and even though that feels hard at times, you feel yourself growing more and more each day.

A knock on your door pulls you out of your robotic laundry folding. You’re not in a particular rush to answer it but you stand anyway. When you open the door, a very apprehensive pair of eyes are staring back at you. Ashleigh and Sophie share a look with each other that you pretend not to notice and then they each flash their largest, fakeest smiles. 

“We brought wine!” Sophie flashes the wine bottle in her hand and they push past you before you can protest. 

You grab your folded washing of the coffee table and place it all on your bed, shoving the half finished basket in your wardrobe. When you come back into the living room, Sophie is pouring wine into 2 glasses that Ashleigh is holding. She hands one to you before sitting on the couch and resting her feet on your coffee table.

“So, we have a proposition for you,” Sophie grins and your stomach immediately drops. She plonks herself down on the floor in front of your TV and straightens herself as a form of weird intimidation. “There’s a party tomorrow night–” she begins but you cut her off before she can continue.

“I have plans to…um do something,” you stutter out and they both roll their eyes at you.

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it sound convincing,” Ashleigh interjects.

“I just…I want to hang out with you guys, I really do, I just…I can’t face him, not yet,” you take a wobbling breath and slump yourself back against the couch cushion.

“We know everything. Rook told us. Most of it was bits and pieces that you’d told him and that…Colson told him but we think we have a fairly good understanding of what went down,” Sophie says and then drains her entire glass of wine. “We just don’t want you locking yourself away in the hopes that all your feelings will magically fade and you can stand to be around him again. That’s why when we say proposition, we actually mean kidnapping.”

You’re so mad at yourself for allowing them to drag you to this house and force you to ‘have a good time’. One thing you’re grateful for is that Colson is clearly avoiding you because you’ve been here for an hour and a half and you still haven’t seen him. The music is pumping, the liquor is following, everyone is talking, laughing and dancing and all you can do is wish you were home in the silence of your apartment. After a while, the noise and the overly drunk people begin to get on your nerves. You know you shouldn’t but you decide to sneak upstairs to the solace and quiet of one of the bedrooms. You contemplate sitting in Casie’s room, maybe find a good book to read until you can leave without anyone causing a fuss but you don’t want to invade her privacy like that. 

You spot Colson’s door at the end of the hallway and even though you want to be strong, you’re desperate for some kind of connection with him, even if it just means sitting on his bed for a few minutes, imagining he’s there with you. You know in a month, you’ve made a lot of progress. You don’t cry when you lay down to sleep at night anymore. Your chest doesn’t ache quite as much when you think about him. You don’t want to destroy all of that but you just need a moment to pretend the last few months haven’t happened.

You push the door open gently, checking to make sure the room is empty. When you’re sure the coast is clear, you step into the room, closing the door softly behind you. His room looks the same. Messy, manly and all Colson. There’s a few astrology books strewn across his bedside table, there’s writing paper on his bed and his black graphic acoustic guitar. There’s a bunch of scrunched up pieces of paper on the floor and all the lyrics are blacked out and destroyed. There’s half empty bottles of liquor everyone, empty coffee cups, empty pill bottles. The room is a mess and 100% Colson’s. His scent is everywhere. You can smell his cologne on every surface, the faint musk of weed. You sit on his bed, close your eyes and just soak it all in.

“Hey, Y/N, you in here?” there’s a knock and then the door begins to slowly open. 

You quickly jump off the bed just as Rook opens it fully. He smiles at you sympathetically and you feel like the biggest loser in the world.

“Hey, I was just…” you look around the room, not entirely sure what a good explanation for why you’re in Colson’s room would be. “Um needed to pee but all the other bathrooms were occupied.”

“Are you sure it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you looked completely fucking miserable downstairs?” he quirks an eyebrow at you and blush bright red.

“I came here under protest ok, I never promised anyone that I’d be happy while doing it.” Rook laughs and you slump back down onto the bed, throwing your body back so you can stare at the ceiling. “He hasn’t even come anywhere near me,” you whine and you feel so pathetic, it’s sickening.

“I think he honestly believes that’s what you want,” Rook lies next to you on the bed, resting his hands behind his head.

“In what possible universe would I want him to feel he can’t move freely around his own home?”

“What do you want?” Rook turns his head to look at you, a serious expression on his features.

“Oh Rookie, how much time do you have?” you take a deep breath and you finally admit the thing you’ve been trying to deny for so long. “I just want him to love me as deeply as I love him and as tragic as it is to admit, I would probably keep sleeping with him if it meant he’d stick around.”

“I guess neither of you are very good at reading the other person,” Rook shakes his head and you’re so thrown by his blunt tone that you have a million questions.

You lean up onto your elbow and stare down at Rook, ready to bombard him, but before you even say a word, the door swings open violently. You jump off the bed at the sound of it slamming into the wall behind it, almost coming off its hinges in the movement. Colson is staring you both down, eyeing your bewildered expression and Rook’s casual position on his bed. You look at Rook and he just looks at you and shrugs. You’re not really sure what the look on Colson’s face means. It is a weird twist between a smirk and rage.

“Well, well, well I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less,” he chuckles humorlessly. “I ignore you at my party so you thought you’d get back at me by fucking my best friend in my bed?” 

Your jaw drops and the blood drains from your face. You want to cry and smack him across his stupid face at the same time. Sure, it doesn’t exactly look great. You, lying in his bed, with Rook but you thought he knew you well enough to know that you’d never stoop to that level, no matter how much you thought it would get his attention. It’s more something he would do just to get his own way.

“Oh fuck off Kells,” Rook stands up and folds his arms across his chest. “That’s not what was going on and you know it.”

“Oh and how the fuck would I know it?” he scoffs, not taking his eyes off you.

“Because if she wanted to fuck me, she’d be naked and screaming my name right now as she came all over my dick,” Rook grins and Colson’s face drains of all colour and his stare shifts to Rook.

He steps forward, ready to take a swing but you quickly place your body between Rook and him. At last second, Colson drops his fist, his face filled with murderous contempt for his best friend. Your heart is pounding and the room is spinning. Why the fuck would Rook purposely goad him like that? It’s like he wanted to get his ass whooped.

“Colson, you know he didn’t mean it,” you try to soothe him but you know the sound of you defending Rook is definitely not helping the situation. 

“Get out of my fucking way, Y/N! I’m going to fucking kill him!” Colson screams in your face and you flinch away from the sound. He’s so close you can almost feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

You’re so grateful for the loud music right now because no one from the party can hear the commotion going on above them. The pure, unfiltered fury in Colson’s voice is so confusing to you right now. He was the one that accused the two of you in the first place, why would he care that Rook is just joining in on his twisted fantasy? It’s not like it would ever happen. You’ve never seen him that way, he’s alway only ever been a friend to you. Someone you confide in when you feel like you have no one else to talk to. He’s been one of the best friends you’ve ever had.

“Oh calm the fuck down man. Just tell her what you’ve been dying to tell her since the nightclub! Goddamn, I need a fucking drink. You two are not to leave this room until you grow the fuck up and talk to each other like adults.”

Rook pushes past you, not even fazed by the death stare Colson gives him as he leaves the bedroom. As soon as he leaves, Colson’s lips are on you and you’re so taken aback that for a second, you kiss him back. Suddenly you remember the promise you’d made to yourself that night he left your apartment for the last time. You will not be sucked in by him, no matter how hard he tries. You push him away and stumble back, creating some distance between your bodies, and he whimpers. Colson physically whimpers at the loss of your touch.

“I’m–I’m sorry, we can’t. I told you,” you hold a hand to your forehead as you try to regain some composure around him and catch your breath.

“No,” he says so simply but with so much assurance that you have to do a double take. He folds his arms across his chest and stares you down.

“What the fuck do you mean no?” you ask dumbfounded.

“I mean no,” he steps towards you and you step back until you’re literally pinned to the foot of his bed. “Just because you say it, doesn’t mean I have to go along with it. I want you and I’m not accepting your decision to end things.”

“What the fu–” he cuts you off by crashing his lips to yours again and you can’t actually comprehend what’s happening. He kisses down your neck, talking every few kisses against your skin.

“You’re saying no because you think that’s what you should say, it’s not actually what you want. You want me, I can feel it.” he holds his hand over your heart, feeling it pound against your ribcage. “Your body tells me exactly what you want and it’s me.” 

He kisses the pulse point on your neck and a moan escapes your lips. You don’t even try to shove him off you. You meant what you told Rook. If this is what it means to have Colson in your life, you’ll take it. Anything is better than the emptiness you’ve been sitting in for the past month.

“If you want me, you have to answer one question,” you sigh as he licks just below your ear drum.

“Anything,” he whispers in your ear.

“What have you been dying to tell me since the nightclub?”

Colson flinches away from you and is suddenly 10 feet away from you on the other side of the room. His cheeks are flushed and you can see all of his male glory begging to be released from his jeans. He’s panting so hard you can hear his breathing from where you stand.

“You said anything,” you defend yourself and he laughs. 

An actual, real Colson laugh. The laugh you love the sound of whenever you hear it. You know it means he’s truly happy and it always makes your heart swell to hear. He sits on the edge of his bed, pushing the papers and guitar away and pats the spot beside him. You sit next to him and he surprises you by grabbing your hand in his, lacing his fingers in yours.

“I really should’ve put a condition on that,” he jokes and you laugh half-heartedly. “Fuck it,” you brace yourself for the worst and you’re fighting so hard to just focus on exactly what he’s saying. “I’ve had…feelings for you for a…well a long time, I guess. It started way before we slept together. I was trying so hard to suppress it or pretend it didn’t exist but that night in your apartment, I just couldn’t help myself. I thought I’d messed it up by crossing that line and I panicked. When I got home, I was so fucking angry at myself that I just used the fuck buddy thing as a shitty bandaid to fix it.”

“I…I’m sorry but I just– I don’t know if I can believe you,” you let go of his hand and stand up, creating distance between you. You can see the hurt on his face but he doesn’t make any attempt to try and touch you. “That dinner you were so mean and after the way you’d acted already I just, I couldn’t believe how you were treating me, in front of everyone. Telling Carly about us was such a low blow.”

“I know, fuck I know. Seeing Jacob just drove me over the fucking edge and I know that is no excuse and if you let me, I will spend forever making it up to you.”

“Colson, we both know you’re only telling me this now because you don’t want to lose me as a friend or because you don’t want me telling people about how we’ve been secretly hooking up for almost a year.”

“I’m telling you this because you asked!” he’s on his feet now, completely ignoring the distance you tried so hard to create.

“I’d convinced myself that even though it wasn’t how I wanted things to be between us, at least it meant I’d get to touch you and kiss you. I had this fucking dumb idea in my head that there was never a chance in hell that a woman like you, could fall for a guy like me,” he rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably.“The more times we did it though, the harder it was becoming to not tell you how I felt. I got this genius idea that if I started coming over drunk, it’d help keep my mouth shut. It was so hard to push it all down because I don’t know if you’ve noticed but sex with you is like 10000 orgasms rolled into one.” 

You know in his own strange way, Colson is trying to compliment and you tell you how deep his feelings for you are all in one cheesy line. 

“After that last time when I let the voices in my head get to me and I ran like a fucking bitch. I watched you sleep and my mind just kept telling me that you deserve someone better. I knew that I’d finally gone and sabotaged the closest thing I had to an ‘intimate’ relationship. I should’ve just told you all of this when you told me on my birthday how you felt. I just– I wanted you to have better, that’s why I came over and tried to end things but you refused,” he smirks at you and suddenly how he acted early made sense. He was using your tactic against you and so help you god if it didn’t fucking work perfectly.

“I really liked that day with you,” you confess and he tilts his head in confusion. “That day that we spent in my apartment, just hanging out together. It was the best day I’ve had in a long time.” 

He reaches out and strokes your cheek, your eyes fluttering closed. He just stands there, stroking your cheek and you enjoy every second of it. There’s no words you need to share right this second. You have so many questions that you need answers to but for right now, you’re just enjoying being still. Having this chance to just stop and breathe for a second, the aching in your chest gone because Colson is here with you, you can think clearly for the first time in weeks.

“I had such a hard time just admitting how I felt. I didn’t want anyone to know. Rook knew bits and pieces but I don’t think he ever actually grasped my feelings for you, not completely anyway. In the restaurant that night, I spotted you from the moment we stepped in there and the only reason Rook and I were so deep in conversation was because we arguing about how badly I’d fucked up. Jacob being there just made me feel worse and worse about it and that’s why I lashed out. I wish I could go back to that night and tell Carly to shut the fuck up.”

“I wish I could go back to the night and punch her fucking lights out. Of all the women you could’ve picked…”

“Yeah, I know. She was always more of a headache than anything.”

He’s staring at you now, a question burning in his eyes. The scrutiny of his stare is so intense that you have to look away. You walk back to the bed and sit down but his eyes continue to watch you. You’re starting to feel self-conscious about why he’s staring and it’s raising your blood pressure so much you crack.

“Ok, just say what you want to say before you give me a brain aneurysm from the stress!” you yell at him, running your hands through your hair.

“I have no right to ask this, I know, and you can curse me out if you want to but I just need to know…Did you and him…sleep together?”

Suddenly you see that vulnerability that you were honestly starting to believe didn’t exist. He looks so unsure of himself, so insecure. You wonder if that’s how he’s seen you this past few weeks and that’s why it’s taken him so long to finally tell you how he feels. You want to quell his chaotic mind so you tell him exactly what happened when you left the restaurant. How kind Jacob was to you, how kind he was to Colson actually. He didn’t have to talk to you about him at all but he did. He wanted to show you exactly what Colson has just told you. You wonder if you should text him and tell him what Colson said but you push that thought away for now.

“Ok, good. I’m glad,” Colson chuckles and you give him a quizzical look. “I know this is a strange thing to confess but I have slept with someone since the first time we were together. I didn’t want to make you seem cheap by sleeping with other women. Like I said, you deserve better.”

You’re shocked to say the least. You can’t believe that all this time you thought he was still banging his way around LA and instead he’d been almost…faithful to you in some weird twisted way. You’d never talk about exclusivity when you worked out your ‘rules’. You feel bad for assuming that Colson would be like that but in your defense, up until 2 minutes ago, you didn’t know that Colson saw you as anything but a hook up. 

“I really want to kiss you right now,” you confess and the grin that lights up Colson’s face makes your chest warm and your heart literally skip a beat.

He steps towards you slowly, holding your face in his large hands. He leans down to you so steadily, grazing your lips gently at first. As your lips move against each other, the kiss becomes more intimate. Your lips part to allow Colson to slip his tongue in. Your hands begin to explore his body as your tongues war for control. He concedes and finally allows you to take the lead. You run your fingertips under his t-shirt, across his taut stomach and he shivers at your touch. You run your fingers along his hips, to his back where you lightly run your nails down his back. He moans into your mouth but quickly pulls away. You’re left breathless and slightly confused by his self-control.

“I want to wait, until everyone’s gone,” he nods his head towards the door and now you’re even more confused.

“Why?” you ask him, embarrassed at his rejection until he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Because I want to take my time with you,” he tells you and now it’s your turn to shiver.

[wooahaes]

run & hide

pairing: non-idol!bang chan x gn!reader [mentions of non-idol!changbin x gn!reader]

genre: horror. ready or not au.

word count: 1.3k~

warnings: multiple mentions of marriage. adopted!chris into changbin's family. mentions of chris having a wife & kids in the background. blood mentions, mentions of death & curses. ending ambiguous as to whether chris dies or not. reader marries changbin (and probably regrets it in this fic--if u are familiar w the movie, u will understand). gun mentions. very vague mentions of chris drugging cups (not involving reader).

daisy's notes: hey i rly like this movie :)

Chris had seen this story play out before as a kid. And dear lord, he’d wished you got any card other than hide and seek, because that meant he knew exactly how this story ended.

His own wife had lucked out on getting checkers the night after their wedding. Now that meant he had two miserable kids that his wife had raised him the way that his parents always wanted to raise him. He was too soft sometimes, not business minded enough to take over the family company… not that he ever wanted to run it to begin with. He’d been adopted into this family, he didn’t believe in whatever bullshit they were buying wholeheartedly into. His adoptive parents had played old maid the night of their wedding, and it was this joke that he never got. And now that his adoptive brother, Changbin, had married you in an extravagant ceremony… You’d been the unlucky one that night when they brought you downstairs and given you the family box. All you had to do was accept the card it gave you, and your fate would be sealed. And, of fucking course, it was hide and seek that popped up. 

Chris gave you one act of mercy earlier in letting you go when he caught you, the ugly feeling of looking like a predator to its prey leaving bitterness everywhere within him. He’d get hell if he didn’t mention seeing you, so he gave you a head start. A fighting chance to run away and hide. His uncle gave him shit for it anyway, but he could live with that—the same way he could live with the stony glare from his wife. He’d started to fall out of love with her years ago, and the flame extinguished this morning. 

“Do you think they’ll get hide and seek?” She had said, fixing her pearl earrings as casual as could be. For anyone else, it sounded like she was discussing the weather. “I’ve always wanted the chance to prove myself to your family…”

Disgusting. He fucked up by telling her about that when his adoptive sister got married. He’d already removed his wedding ring when he saw her later that night, congratulating one of their sons for trying to kill you with a pistol that threw him to the ground when he shot—his little body too weak to take the recoil, especially as someone who barely understood how a gun worked. 

That was what led Chris to find you. He needed to get you out. Even if he dropped dead with the rest of his family once it was all over, you would be safe. He was sure of it. He’d loosened his tie by now, jacket lost somewhere along the way as he kept his steps as quiet as he could through one of the passageways. Changbin had shoved you into one earlier, no doubt you had returned to try and get your bearings. 

Trying to get an advantage over him, you had swung down the back of the pistol you carried, barely giving Chris enough time to catch you and shove you away. “It’s okay! It’s okay,” he had said immediately, “I”m not—I’m not working with them anymore. We’re gonna get you out, okay?”

“Yeah, fucking right!” 

Unfortunately for you, Chris also easily overpowered you. Gym days with Changbin gave him the strength to, and he’d learned a few things living the life he did with this family. He’d drawn back, holding his hands up to show you he meant no harm. There was blood staining the white of your wedding getup. Yours? Or someone else’s? He hoped it was the latter, but he was sure he saw bandages peeking out from underneath your sleeve. Slowly, he lowered himself down to the ground, setting down the gun before taking another step back.

“I mean it,” he said. “I’m not gonna catch you.”

He saw the way you stared him down, fearful of whether this was a trick or not. 

“There’s a way out through the kitchen,” he said, reaching into his pockets to pull out his car keys. “You can take my car. If the gates are shut, you can hide in it—the windows are tinted so no one can see inside, and no one else has keys to it.” 

You said nothing, pressing yourself further against the wall, breathing quietly. After a moment, he watched as you reached out, snatching the keys from his hand and holding them close to you. “And what about you?”

“I don’t care what happens to me to this point,” he said, shaking his head. “Whatever curse is on us isn’t going to affect you. It’s either-or. Either we sacrifice you, or we blow up. You’re… an external factor in this situation.”

You clenched your jaw, staring him down before glancing down the passageway—head jerking all too quickly, as though you heard something. He never did, and Chris had pretty damn good ears. If he thought you were in danger, he would help. Then you turned back to him. “Chris?” Your voice was quieter than before, and you picked the pistol back up after taking those few steps forward. “I want a divorce.” 

“So do I,” he chuckled, extending a hand to you. “Fuck this family.”

“They’re your family—”

“Only in name,” he said. “I’m adopted.”

He heard a soft chuckle emerge from you. He knew you’d grown up in foster care, too: that was why you were so ready to marry into this family. Maybe one day adopt kids with Changbin, save people from the life you lead for far too long. You slipped your hand into his after a moment, and he guided you forward, mentally making a map of where the two of you were. One of these passages led into the kitchens, and he was sure you’d be able to sneak out as soon as he disengaged the locks in the security room. He’d need a back-up plan, too, to deal with his family. 

One thing led to another and to another… And Chris had to make the decision. He spiked the ritual cup with a non-lethal dose of hydrochloric acid (enough to incapacitate all of them for now) as he broke you free from your bonds. He’d shoved you ahead of him on the way out, hoping to protect you until he got you outside… And it was then that he felt something slice through his neck, sending him crumpling to the ground. He watched as you disappeared down the hallway, not looking back. Good. Don’t look back. If you looked back, you would care for him. There was good in you that he needed to protect before the curse of this family destroyed it.

“Chan!”

Felix’s voice rang down the hall as he rushed to where he’d crawled away, trying to find a safer spot to die than in view of anyone else. The butler was a new hire, a nervous one when it came to game nights like this, and he fell to his knees next to him.

“It’s okay,” he said, over and over as he tried to stop the bleeding with hands that were slick with sticky red all too soon. “It’s okay, Chris,” he sounded as though he were making a promise. “We’re—We’re gonna get help. I promise—”

Felix only left his side when he was forced away. They had managed to catch you again, and Chris let his eyes drift shut as he cursed himself. Fuck. He’d seen the sun rising in the windows: surely that was supposed to mean you won and the fucked up demon that had given them their fortune would lose. He breathed shallowly, only opening his eyes when he heard a sickening splatter from the other room. Except… It wasn’t you. It was his adoptive family that were screaming. The matriarch, the parents, the sister… He shut his eyes when he heard his wife scream, too, trying to run away with the boys before they disappeared, too. At least death would embrace him soon.

He smiled to himself: you won. Take the family’s bullshit fortune that’d fall to you and run.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm

[mothgodofchaos]

Pan

I fucking finally was able to create this idea. I got confirmation that this is the cryptid that would fit him best, so I'm feeling rather confident.

Fawn!Illinois x GN!Reader, TW: none Words: 799

You brush a branch out of your face as you try to make your way to the entrance of the ancient temple. You heard many rumors of a secret pan flute that lies deep within the depths of its chambers, and you were determined to get it out, so that the world can learn about it. Sure, you were an adventurer for priceless artifacts, but you were a hunter of knowledge, and always wished to share your findings with the rest of the world.

Other adventurers were staying away from this temple, saying something along the lines of it being a waste of time, especially for something that isn’t made of valuable materials. But you weren’t looking to sell it, you wanted to know its origins. The history of it. You wanted to learn. You step up to the door, pushing the stone door out of the way as you enter the first chamber, torch lit as you scope it out.

The puzzles to get down into the middle of the temple were fairly easy, don’t step here, don’t get stabbed here, swing across a dark pit of spikes on a vine there. Easy stuff that they could teach youngins in a class called Adventuring 101. You finally got to the vault door as you heard steps behind you, a man in khakis and a large adventuring hat stepping out into your view. The altars in the room obscure your view of his lower half as he walked around, but he was clearly eyeing you.

“And who are you, treasure~?”

“Who am I? Who the fuck are you? I thought I was the only one going after this pan flute!”

“Oh no, sweetheart. You certainly aren’t the only one looking for this precious thing. Now, as kind as you were to disarm the traps, go run along now, the professional has this handled now.”

His hand waves you off as you stand there with a huff, appalled by the audacity that this man thinks he can just swoop in and take the thing that you had been researching and working so hard for. You step closer to him, your hand ripping him away from the door, shoving him back with a surprise.

“And why should I? I was clearly here first! The world needs to learn about this, not for whatever selfish reason that you think you should get it!”

“Selfish? Now I never thought it was particularly selfish to want to get your personal belongings back, but if that’s how it’s viewed now, then sure, it is selfish.”

You look him over with a questioning look, squinting at the strange adventurer man.

“This pan flute belongs to Pan, who you are clearly not…”

He chuckles at you, patting you on the shoulder as he opens the vault door with a single touch.

“If that’s what you think, treasure~”

That wink he added set your nerves aflame as you got angry again, following him in, only focused on getting to the pan flute before he did. You snatch it, smirking as he glares at you from the other side of the pillar. But soon, both of your attentions are snatched as the pillar begins to sink into the ground, you both sprinting out of the vault as a large boulder begins rolling down towards you.

He’s faster than you, and he very quickly realizes it. The adventurer lifts you up into his arms, sprinting away from the boulder as it creeps on the both of you. He dodges quickly, reflexes faster than anyone you had ever seen before as the boulder rolls on past you, still running with you in his arms. The temple slowly begins collapsing behind you, tumbling through the doorway right as the door falls, the entire temple caving in on itself. You look up, a bit stunned, as he stands up, brushing himself off.

“You alright there, sweetheart? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a fawn before.”

Your vision clears to see two distinctly deer legs half disguised in a pair of oversized cargo shorts. You blink a few times, making sure what you’re seeing is actually real. Sure enough, you’re looking at a man who’s half deer. He takes off his hat, antlers sprouting from his combed back hair. You simply laid on the ground, propped up on your elbows, astonished.

“Thanks for your help, sweetheart. It ain’t much, but you have my blessing on all of your next adventures. And while some may call me Pan, you can call me Illinois. Call if you need anything.”

He hands you a horn made from an antler, before bounding off into the surrounding foliage. You looked down at it, as you processed what might’ve been the strangest but most intriguing adventure you’ve ever been on.

[felawnie]

I am still very very tiffed that zombie dungeon spawners will spawn villager zombies on bedrock and not on java. I am. So tiffed. How dare they. I was SO HOPING for zombie villagers. Anyway that half of why I never posted an update on my challenge world, @ageblue​ . The other half of the reason is, after that week of sulking, I just...kept forgetting.

No screenshots cause the ones in the folder don’t look right? Did I accidentally delete them? I don’t know. If I repeat anything, OH WELL. Anyway. I got my enchanting table. I’m thinking about suspending the enchanting area from the farming platform. Iron chains would be ideal but I don’t actually like mining(another reason I wanted VILLAGERS AUGH) so it’ll be hard to make myself buckle down and do it. Especially with the horrible caves. I’ll need an anvil too. I guess. I want the platform to be, like, black. I wish I could make a way up that was invisible but I don’t know how. :/ Make a fucking parkour route...(i suck at parkour lol)

*sigh* The fucking llamas. THE FUCKING LLAMAS. After a bunch of trials and tribulations which involved makeshift pens, accidentally digging into my hovel, finding out that llamas fall through 1 block openings when on a lead(into my hovel), more makeshift pens, frantic fence misplacing, and then tiredly shoving llamas along, I got the llamas separated from the wandering trader and in a pen. A week later, I saw a video wherein the person just got the llamas in a boat and the fucking leads popped right off. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- *muffles self and continues*

The wandering trader then did a bunch of longing staring and wandering about the pen, as if to find a way in. Then he briefly went for a swim. I was...concerned.

Anyway, the llamas. I tamed them and bred them. Yay! The baby grew up. Yay! I tried to breed the llamas again and it didn’t seem to take. Whatever, I’ll figure it out. I come back, there’s only two llamas. I am confused and assume the original llamas, for some reason, are still despawning despite the taming. After all, babies are born tamed so how else could one be gone? I quickly breed the two I have, thinking that at least I’ll still have the two once the other og llama poofs. Later, I have two llamas again. Alrighty, should be fine now. I breed them. And later. I have two llamas. Again. *deep breath* 

Wandering trader llamas, even if tamed, will produce untamed babies. About 5 minutes after they grow up, they will despawn. There was a lot of blank staring at the screen while figuring out what to do, and plan designing and implementing plans and finding out the plans didn’t work and more plan designing and finally settling on a truly annoying setup but I’m not sure what else I could have done. Also AAAAAA THE FUCKING CARAVANS CAN YOU BASTARDS JUST NOT???

I just thought of a potential way but I do not want to have to set that up ALL OVER AGAIN so WHATEVER.

On the bright side I had a fun time describing the situation to my mother(because I don’t know ANYONE WHO PLAYS MINECRAFT IN REAL LIFE(i mean i suppose i know the kids at the minecraft program at the library that i used to run but, uh, no thanks)) and watching her grow more and more dismayed as I explained every problem with my attempts and her suggestions, leaving me with only this hilarious inefficient setup. Yes, Mother, FEEL MY PAIN.

So what have I ended up with? I have 4(6?) pairs of llamas, each in separate small pens so they’re easy to feed(did you know that, contrary to the wiki, llamas(or at least trader llamas) will absolutely keep eating hay bales even when they’re at full health and can’t breed? ahahahahahahaha). There is a fence gate, covered with a fence post so I can put the baby on a lead. I then have to DRAG THE BABY away from their parents while they desperately try to get back to them. I have to wrangle them into another pen. Did you know you can only have 3 leads active at one time? SO helpful. I have to get the other babies into the pen while making sure no others manage to escape. (see, because to feed the adults I have to have a block to get on so I don’t feed the same bastard several times, there’s a way back into the parent’s pen and THE BABES KNOW IT) Then /I/ have to get out of the pen without the others escaping. At the start of this I had to set a fucking timer for when they grow up, because otherwise they will despawn before I get what I want(which at this point is another couple pairs because the agony of wrangling the first two from this setup wasn’t enough, I guess). Once I get the other pairs I want, that’s it. I’ll only get like 8 llamas every 10 minutes(assuming i am right on top of things which YOU SHOULD NEVER ASSUME) but I just. There is no mass creating of llamas here. 

Finally, after finishing everything, I remembered a thought I’d had while setting up my wheat/tree limiting platform. “Man, this might be too big a wheat field. I certainly don’t need 4 fields worth...Oh wait! Llamas need hay bales to breed and I’ll need them for books! And since I’ll just breed the lot of them til I have a bunch and then kill most of them, I’ll need a lot of hay bales. This won’t be too big at all!” *hysterical laughter*

I just thought for a moment that I could try breeding the newly grown llamas real quick and then kill them(all in 5 minutes!) for quicker leather production but you have to tame them to breed them, don’t you... *sigh* That would be way too stressful for me.

Anyway I hate MC llamas now. Going on a research check afterwards and finding out about the villager zombies DIDN’T HELP. Oh my GOSH it didn’t. I’m so fucking sour about that. I was so mad I went back to a 1.16 world, lmao. At least THERE I can have VILLAGERS and not fall into STUPID PITS. Have I used them for anything? ...No...but at least I COULD.

[jvngkook97]

Haii! Can you make a fluffy fanfic where Jungkook and the OC are both idols, and OC walks in BTS’s practice room but she catches him simping over fan edits of her? Vise versa is fine as well. It’s perfectly fine if you can’t lol it’s a pretty cheesy request 😭 Tysm (p.s I love your writings)

Work of Art

pairing; idol!jeon jungkook x idol!reader, female!reader

genre; hint of angst, mainly fluff, established relationship, age gap au - koo is 24 and reader is 29, BTS hasn’t been in the game for too long, but long enough

warnings; cursing, implied smut, koo is in love with reader to the point of being a simp but reader actually reciprocates his feelings, so not really a simp?? just straight whipped tbh tho I hate that word so he’s just really really head over heels for reader ok. also reader has CURVES so we getting a handsy koo ofc

rating; 18+

w/c; 2,400

a/n; so sorry for the wait anon, but ty for the request. it was fun to write! made a little twist to it, hope you don’t mind and still enjoy! feedback and love is always appreciated <3

It all started with a simple request from you.

You asked if he could draw you a tattoo he believed would fit your vibe, beliefs, interests, personality, etc. Knowing how amazing he was at his side hobby of drawing, his main job being one of seven of the record breaking Kpop group, BTS.

So, it should’ve been fairly simple, right?

Wrong.

When it came to you, it needed to be nothing but perfection. Anything below that just shouldn’t exist in this world. To put it simply, he was truly, madly, deeply, in love with you.

Y/N Y/L/N. A name known throughout the world long before BTS came into the scene, with you being five years his senior. Someone he looked up to during his debut days and even when he was just a trainee.

You captured his heart and he never wanted it back. He wasn’t ashamed to say, he was whipped for you.

So imagine to his surprise when you requested a meeting with them shortly after they first debuted, wanting to work on a collab with them. You wanted to work with them. Jimin had to catch him from falling on his ass with how overwhelmed he was with the news. The others just rolling their eyes and laughing, very used to the obsession the youngest had over you. However, they never believed that you would actually come to love the golden maknae yourself.

Of course, it wasn’t love at first sight. At least, not for you.

You leaned over the bathroom sink, applying the last layer of your favorite lipstick with a smack of your lips, rubbing them together. Closing the cap on the tube, you shoved it back into your white Coach clutch. Hands smoothing down your outfit of choice that matched your clutch in color, not wanting to see a wrinkle anywhere. You fluffed your naturally long, wavy, hair with your fingers, and fixed your bangs.

Then you closed your eyes, and breathed.

“You got this, y/n. You’ve done this countless times with many other big names in the industry. You are a fucking force of nature. And anyone would be lucky to work with you.”

Opening your eyes after your ritualistic self pep talk you do before every meeting, you rolled your shoulders back, staring at yourself in the mirror, and poised with confidence.

“Let’s do this shit.”

Jungkook wishes that he shared the same amount of grace and confidence that you did in that fateful meeting, but then he would be lying.

It was his fifth time standing back up from sitting down around the ridiculously elongated, black and freshly cleaned, shiny table in the middle of the conference room they would be meeting you at.

He wiped his hands on the back of his pants trying to get rid of the sweat that didn’t seem to go away, and opted for just walking laps around the table since he obviously wasn’t going to be able to sit still anytime soon.

Namjoon rubbed his forehead and let out an exhausted sigh, feeling himself somehow get even more tired just from watching the youngest do laps around him. The boys all just flew back into the states from having been on tour for six months. He wanted nothing more than to be relaxing with a nice book in bed, or admiring an abstract work of art in some random museum.

But no, due to the meeting you requested a week ago, they now all gathered at, he checked his watch yet again, 7:30 in the morning to both meet you for the first time and start the process of collaborating on a song. Don’t get him wrong, he was overjoyed with the new project, he just wished he had more time to relax before said project came around. But alas, that’s the job of being an idol.

The rest of the members tried their best to ignore Jungkook and continue on with their own shared conversations around the table. It wasn’t until Jungkook went around the table for what seemed to be the 20th time that morning did Namjoon finally speak up and say something.

“JK.” He stated simply, making the youngest stop in his tracks.

“Yes?” He looked at his leader with wide doe eyes, still feeling the caffeine from the three cups of coffee he downed earlier, jitters kicking in full force. He hoped it would make him more alert, but not this much. He could literally feel his blood vibrating within his body. Shit.

“You need to relax. Everything will be fine. You’re going to run a hole into the floor with how many times you’ve done laps around this table.” He chuckled humorously, “You should drink some water.” He suggested, trying to find a way to ease his nerves before the meeting started.

He grunted, poking his tongue out to mindlessly play with his lip piercing, before throwing his hands up in frustration and plopping down in the chair in between Taehyung and Jimin for, hopefully, the last time that morning. Resting his elbows on the table, and putting his head in his hands, palms rubbing his eyes mercilessly. The make up crew would be devastated upon witnessing the action, he’s sure. For a second, the only sound that could be heard within the room was the loud ‘thunk’ of Jungkook’s forehead hitting the top of the table in defeat, eyes closed, and tattooed arms splayed out on the sides of his head. He’s finally giving up. Now, to just relax until y/n comes in–

A knock on the door ceased all conversation and movement within the conference room. In sync, regardless of how anyone was feeling that morning, they all stood up and stood in a straight line facing the door that would inevitably be opening at any second. Posture straight and hands clasped in front of them elegantly. Namjoon took to the middle of the line, slightly stepping forward as leader, ready to greet their guest of honor.

The door opened, and there you were in all your beautiful glory.

You strutted into that conference room, demanding your presence be known to every male in the room and Jungkook swore he saw a near blinding glow radiate from your figure. The members all shared side eye glances, and they all swore they saw literal hearts in Jungkook’s eyes. An obvious smitten look encompassing his face without his knowing. Cause if he did know, he would’ve backtracked in sheer embarrassment over the fact.

You came to a stop a few feet in front of the group, the door now shut behind you to give you all some privacy. Namjoon’s formal instincts kicked in, as he led his members in an introduction they’ve done many times now.

“2, 3! Bang!” Namjoon stated in a semi loud voice.

“Tan!” The other six members said in unison without pause behind him.

“Hello, we are BTS.” Everyone, including Namjoon, said. All making the same hand gesture as well as bowing respectfully to you in greeting.

You found it extremely cute and endearing, watching them all behave so politely. You decided to bow back respectfully in response and announced yourself in kind.

“Very lovely to meet you all, my name is y/n y/l/n and I’m very humbled that you all agreed to this meeting. I look forward to working with you.” You spoke in a normal, yet equally as formal manner. You then gestured to the table behind the still standing members with a smile.

“Please, have a seat. I’m sorry if I kept you waiting for so long, traffic can be ugly in the city of angels.”

Los Angeles. One of the world’s most famous cities. The city is internationally known for being the home of the rich and famous, Hollywood, the main home of major entertainment companies, bad traffic, ethnically diverse, and the second-largest city in America.

Or as you like to call it, home.

Each member smiled in response and took they’re respective seats that they already decided on prior to your arrival. Or so they thought. Jungkook unexpectedly stealing Jimin’s chair that was closest to yours besides Namjoon’s who was on the opposite side of the table, where you were now seated at the head of the table.

Hands folded comfortably in front of you on the table, you locked eyes individually with each member. Jungkook’s being the last pair on your list. He knows for a fact that he stopped breathing in fear of accidentally doing or saying something that would make you see him as bad in your eyes. Plastering on his signature bunny toothed smile, you couldn’t help but stare adoringly at the youngest member.

You could tell he was nervous, his leg subtly bouncing underneath the table, not enough to cause a distraction, but for you to notice being at the head. So, you thought you would try and help ease his nerves by placing your hand on top of his folded ones that mirrored your own a second ago, giving them a light squeeze before you let go and directed your statement to the entire table in front of you.

“Shall we begin?”

And the rest, as they say, was history.

Back to present time, Jungkook sat on the white leather couch located next door to their rehearsal practice room, in the group break room. Laptop perched open on his lap, he leaned towards the screen as his eyes widened by the minute.

"Holy shit." he quietly exhaled into the silent room, definitely not wanting to gain the attention of anyone. Not when it could potentially make them curious as to what he was currently looking at, or rather what he was ogling at.

The answer? You. Of course. Or rather, a very different version of you. Created by one of your many fans on the internet. A version that made a not so subtle tent start to form within the confines of his baggy Nike sweats he wore to rehearsals today. Now thankful that he didn't choose the skinny jeans, where it would've been very noticeable to the eye.

Don't get him wrong, he loves you. He loves every single inch of you. From your head down to your perfectly, curvaceous, body that never failed to turn him on just thinking about it. His hands twitched at the idea of being able to worship and caress your bare body that would willingly be splayed out on your shared bed, with your most intimate parts of you exposed for the pleasure of his eyes only.

He let out a low, guttural, groan at the mental image in his head, wanting nothing more than to relieve himself. But, he had a job to do. One that was made by you, so he needed to get his shit together, and fast. You were expecting him back home soon and he still wasn't done with the sketch that was almost finished. He just needed some last minute inspiration to finish what he would call, his first masterpiece.

And this? This was exactly what he didn't know he needed in order to do so. Damn, were there some creative and talented people out there. The way they paid attention to even the littlest details, from the moles scattered across your skin like constellations meant for him to discover. To the way they captured your eyes and face in an expression of a pure blissed out state, as if they were the ones hovering of your body in the dead of night, where rays of moonlight that shone through the see through curtain were the only source of light needed.

He should be pissed that others envisioned you in such a way, yet he couldn't, because it was art.

Because you were a work of art.

And unlike these fans of yours, he was the one that was able to see you in your most vulnerable state. And that alone, made him smile to himself in pure happiness. Cause how the fuck was he so lucky and worthy of your love to begin with? He'll never know, but he'll spend every day with you like it was his last, not wanting to take a single second with you in vain.

You were his diva, his princess, his queen, his muse, his goddess.

But most importantly?

You were his wife, and the mother of his children.

Life was fucking good.

"Damn, I look sexy as fuck." You leaned over his shoulder from your position of standing behind the couch, squinting at the open laptop to verify that what you were seeing was true. It was. "Is this what I look like from your point of view when we have sex?" Tilting your head sideways, you looked at it from a different angle, thoroughly entranced by the lewd fan-made drawing of yourself.

If he thought your ego was bad before, it was skyrocketing through the roof and into the solar system now, he thought with mirth.

Smirking to himself, he realized that if he got caught in the same act when he was younger, he would be freaking the fuck out by now. Having been with you for years now, however, it only fueled the fire that was insatiable within him. He looked at you from the corner of his eyes, and pushed the laptop off his lap, setting it onto the coffee table in front of him. Leaning back against the couch, he gestured for you to sit on his lap.

You sensually walked around the couch towards him, swaying your curvy hips seductively as you bit your bottom lip between your teeth. His eyes locked onto the sway of your hips in a trance, the tent growing in his pants by the minute.

You sat on his lap, legs on either side of his hips. His hands instantly went to grip the junction between your hips and thighs with a vice grip that made you inwardly groan when he ground his bottom half into yours deliciously.

"Yeah, that drawing of you is sexy." he stated the fact aloud.

"But you, baby?" he said with a lust filled gaze, hands now trailing along your various curves with a vengeance.

"You're a fucking masterpiece." he whispered into your slightly open mouth, before kissing you hungrily.

If his body was a paintbrush, he created colors on your skin like you were the canvas.

[misspearly1]

Robbery Gone Right

Pairing: Arthur x You (Virgin Reader)

Synopsis: You, a twenty four year old virgin, find yourself having fun and getting drunk in your local saloon after sneaking away from your farmhouse. There, you meet a sweet cowboy named Arthur and he ultimately woos you over. As the night went on, things got a little heated but you dashed off before anything could happen and you’ve been pining for him ever since. Never did you expect to find the cowboy hiding in your barn, one month later, and trying to steal your cattle. So, how will Arthur Morgan, an outlaw criminal, explain himself?...

WC: 5.9k

18+ Content. No Minors Please. Continued Warnings Below.

the image I have used does not belong to me.

Warnings: Foreplay (Vaginal fingering and Handjobs) Oral (F receiving) Smut, Unprotected PIV (Wrap it up). Lots - lots of careful sex, Arthur is big and ‘Y/Ns’ character is a virgin. Fluff & Mutual Pining. With a little bit of angsty vibes.

——————————————————————————

You rolled around the sheets in the confines of your bed and fought your sleep. The summer air was burning through your body, drenching your clothing and even though you have stripped down to a thin, white night dress, you are still too hot.

It doesn’t help your situation that the persistent wet dreams of a certain cowboy have been adding to the heat. That one night when sneaking out from your uncle's farm house, a possessive and strict man, you snuck away quietly in the night and went to a saloon with your friends to have some much needed fun.

At twenty four years young, it is allowed by law that you can drink but your uncle forbids you from such activity, he is a holy man and a very aggressive holy man at that, if he even catches a whiff of alcohol on your breath, he will banish you to your room. You wish to leave, but you have nowhere to go so therefore, you’re stuck with his ridiculous way of life.

On special occasions he would allow you to sip some ale and only a sip, but that night in the saloon you drank to her heart's content and you had a lot of fun doing so. Your uncle Roger, doesn’t like the activities that come with drinking alcohol, the drugs and the sex. Being a virgin, you aren’t interested in sex, or drugs, you only wanted to live a little and get stumbling down drunk and so that’s exactly what you did.

However, when you met a rowdy cowboy, dancing around drunkenly and offering his hand out for you to join him, you took it and danced with him. You stomped your feet onto the floor, jumping around and singing joyfully over the tunes bellowing out from the piano man in the corner of the room. Your dance partner's face crinkled wonderfully with his wide smile, and his piercing blue eyes sparkled at you but when he laughed with you as his hands wrapped tightly around your waist, you felt a pulse of desire surge straight to your core.

After three or four songs you both were breathless and he offered to buy you a drink at the bar. There, you exchanged names and learned that he was called Arthur, you didn’t know then that his face would burden your sleep each night since you first met. The cowboy was a twenty eight year old handsome man, the most handsome man you’ve ever come across, with his prominent nose and sharp jawline, you pictured yourself kissing that small scar on his chin.

Another man joined you both and you originally thought that it was his friend, however you soon realised that it wasn’t when this man tried to come onto you and Arthur shoved him away, growling “keep your fucking hands off her.”

Turning his attention back to you, he apologised for what he did and whispered into your ear “I won't let anyone touch you.” His deep, seductive voice had your thighs squeezing together and when you placed a hand to his chest, telling him that it was ok, he placed his hand on your lower back, rubbing small circles with his thumb on your hip to show everyone else in that saloon that you were his.

He never used those words and neither did you, but that is how it felt. You felt like Arthur had claimed his stake on you and you loved that feeling. He was much taller than you and he is extremely large, with his big arms and obviously strong muscles, you loved the feeling of his warm, heavy hand on your back. He felt like a shield, shielding you from all that was wrong with this world and you found herself inching closer to him - to his lips.

Arthur felt it too. He pulled you in gently and confidently planted his lips on yours and his rough, recently clean shaven face tickled across yours as he tilted his head and leaned into you, then he moaned when he heard you gasp from slipping his tongue in your mouth. When he pulled back, you could see the fire in his eyes and before you knew what he was doing, Arthur took your hand and walked you through the crowd of people, towards the back of the saloon.

The few drinks that you had drunk had given you the boost of confidence to let him take you into a dark supply shed, in there he sat on a table and pulled you into his lap. You found herself straddling his crotch, kissing him passionately and moaning into his mouth, and it was you who was directing Arthurs movement, not him. Pushing his hand under your dress and closer to your heat, silently asking for more, the cowboy obliged by slipping his fingers inside your underwear. He was surprised to feel how wet you already were and moved his finger close to your weeping hole.

You have masturbated many times within the privacy of your room, but you couldn’t prepare for the wonderful burn of his large finger, sliding in your sex and you gasped from the sting. Arthur caught this, so he kept his strokes slow and gentle, teasing your clit with his thumb and swallowing all of your whimpers in a kiss. Your slick began to wet his hand, providing him better access to let his finger bury deeper with ease and your orgasm was racing towards you quickly but you cried into his shoulder when he curled his finger, caressing something new inside of you. Something that you’ve never felt before and you bucked your hips into his hand, wanting more.

Again, Arthur obliged but took your silent question the wrong way and your heart began to thump as he started to unzip his pants. This was all new to you and you didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know how to please him like he had just pleased you and you worried that he may lose interest. Then, when he revealed his cock, you openly expressed your panic. You've only seen one penis in your lifetime and it was by accident at the age of eleven when you had walked into an outhouse on your farm and saw your male friend urinating. The image of his genitals burned into your memory for a while after that.

However, that was a long time ago when you were young and he obviously was a prepubescent boy. Arthur isn’t a prepubescent boy though. He is a grown man and his cock is fully grown too. Long, fat and extremely hard, you could tell just by looking at it that your hand would barely wrap around, so you were anxious at the thought of him impaling your virgin pussy.

So you openly expressed your panic to the cowboy by quickly climbing off his lap, exiting the shed and nimbly running away back to your farm house. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and you felt extremely terrible for doing that to him, but all of your alcohol induced confidence had slipped away and you somehow thought it would have been worse to just admit that you were a virgin.

That was a month ago. Every day and night since then, you have thought about Arthur, you thought of all the ways you could have handled the situation better and in the back of your mind, you knew that he would have understood that you were nervous. Tonight is one of those nights where you cannot sleep because you are burdened with the shame that comes with thinking about him and what you did.

You are hot, horny, wet and embarrassed all at the same time, and you finally had enough with trying to ignore those feelings so you sat up. Getting out of bed, you thought it would be better to grab a drink, get some fresh air then come back to your room, change your damp underwear and try to go to sleep again. Navigating your way to the kitchen, you stand at the threshold of your back porch door, gulping down mouthfuls of cool water and releshing in the chill of the night time breeze.

Your mind almost went to think about Arthur again but your attention was torn towards lights coming from the barn, the barn where the cattle is kept and you can hear them very clearly distressed. “Those darn kids don’t know what’s good for them.” you muttered to yourself.

Grabbing the shotgun that was hanging from the wall, you make your way outside and towards the barn to scare them off. This is the third time now that you have caught teenagers drinking and fooling around on your uncle's property, it’s becoming a regular thing for either yourself or your uncle to get rid of them. You shiver with the cold air drifting its way up your night dress with each step you take closer.

Pushing the doors open, you can hear the kids shushing each other so you cock the gun and warn clearly “You know the drill kids, you ain’t supposed to be in here so c’mon out please.”

The barrel of your gun points outwards in front of you as you walk inside. There is an oil lamp sitting in the middle of the barn and using that light, you look inside each stall, cooing to the cattle and reassuring them that it’s ok. “You guys are making this a lot harder than it’s supposed to be” you groaned.

After looking around and not seeing anything, you turn your attention to the ladder leading up to the platform above where there are some bales of hay kept and you know that they must be up there. Using your gun for emphasis, you threaten the kids to come out “This is private property that you’re trespassing on, so you got till the count of three before I start firing. One … two … thr- aghpmm”

A hand clamps over your mouth, batting the gun away from you and onto the floor, you begin to squirm with fear. This person wraps their other arm around both of yours and holds you steady while he starts whispering into your ear “Don’t scream. We just want your cattle, so no one has to get hurt, ok?” Then he lifts his head and calls out quietly “Morgan, c’mon out”

Your mind begins to race frantically. There are two men in this barn, one of which has you subdued and another stepping out from behind cover in the dark and walking towards you. In black clothing, he has his hat low and a mask over his face, the spurs on his boots jingle with each step he takes closer, then when he is right in front of you, both of your eyes widen.

You know those eyes. Those piercing blue eyes that are staring back at you, widening with recognition, you know that it is Arthur behind the mask and you try to talk but the hand over your mouth muffles your words. “Morgan, what are you doing!” the man holding you yells in a whisper when he sees Arthur pulling down his mask.

“Let her go, Marston.” he orders while keeping his eye trained on yours, then when he doesn’t drop his arms, Arthur steps closer and growls “John, I know this woman, so take your goddamn hands off her mouth”

You were frozen with fear. Why is Arthur in my barn, trying to steal my cattle? A couple questions ran through your mind but you couldn’t move nor speak. Arthur walked around you and spoke to John “Go home. I’ll deal with this” what does he mean by that? Oh god, is he going to kill me?

You looked at the gun on the floor and dashed for it, but Arthurs grip on your arm yanked you back to stand still and he yelled to John “Leave. I got this and don’t mention anything to Dutch either.”

Once the door shut and you knew that you were alone, Arthur came round to step in front of you and knelt down to grab the shotgun. He removed the shells and pocketed them, then handed you the empty weapon “I’m sorry.”

“W-what?” You stuttered. Slightly shaking and hesitant to take the gun from him, Arthur steps forward and leans his head closer to yours, repeating “I’m sorry we tried robbing your cattle. I didn’t know this was your farm.”

You were speechless once again and you felt awful for thinking that Arthur was going to kill you, but it still doesn’t answer why he was robbing you in the first place. After leaning the gun against a stall he came back to you and took his mask and hat off fully, his beard has grown back since you last saw him and his hair was a little longer too.

Under all that hair and now that he is standing in better lighting, you could see the sadness in his eyes. He looked broken hearted and just as you noticed it, he apologised again “I’m sorry for what happened that night too. I’m not sure what made you run off, but just know, I’m truly sorry Y/N”

You were still silent as a million emotions began to ripple through your body and Arthur started to walk away but you grabbed his arm as he passed you “Wait…” Turning to look in your eyes, his brows furrowed in question and you requested “Stay? Just for a little while so I can explain”

His eyes darted across your face, searching for intent and he briefly wondered if you were trying to stall him but his curiosity to find out what he did wrong that night in the saloon had Arthur nodding “Ok.”

Looking up to the ladder then back to Arthur, you cocked your head for him to follow as you walked towards it. Once you both climbed up and were seated on a bed of hay, you could tell Arthur was fighting with himself to try and hold your hand, so you placed yours on top of his, taking in a deep breath and preparing to spill but he reassured “Take your time, darlin. It’s ok”

“You didn’t do a single thing wrong that night Arthur. I uhm… I freaked out when you unzipped your pants-” he cut you off, turning to face you and blabbered “I’m terribly sorry for that. I just thought you wanted more but It was never my intention to make you do anything you didn’t want to, Y/N”

“I know.” You assured him. Placing a hand to his cheek and smiling, Arthur closed his eyes at your touch as you reassured him again. You know now that he must have been worrying for a whole month that he had put you in an uncomfortable position that night but you could see that he still felt terrible, so you finally blurted. “I’m a virgin”

His mouth fell open and you watched him trying to find the words as the realisation washed over his face. His brows raised and he cringed while rubbing the back of his neck. Then he nodded “I understand sweetheart. God, I’m an idiot. Why didn’t I catch that?”

He began to apologise again and the sight of him being so remorseful for your mistake had you taking his hand and placing onto your wet panties, stating “This is because of you…” he stopped babbling and gasped at your manoeuvre. Gulping before looking to your eyes for you to continue, he shuddered at the feeling of damp underwear.

Letting his hand go, you held his face again and added “This is what you do to me Arthur. I’ve thought about you taking my virginity since that night but I was just so worried that you wouldn’t want me after finding out I was a virgin and when I saw how big you were, I panicked.”

His eyes look down to your lips then back to your eyes and he asks “Would you let me make it up to you now? I will only go as far as you say so, nothing more than you are comfortable with”

Leaning in to kiss him, you mumbled ‘yes’ into his mouth and he kissed you back, groaning at the thought of bringing you pleasure. Arthur has thought about you everyday too, he kicked himself endlessly to find the reason for what he did wrong and now that he knows you are a virgin and are still willing to continue where you left off, his cock is painfully hard.

It was growing the moment he realised who you were when he stepped out of cover but now his cock is aching with your lips on his and the feeling of your wet pussy on his hands. He can feel you lightly bucking into him and he pulls back, licking his lips and searching your eyes for permission. You could see him worrying about how comfortable you are, so you stand and slip your night dress down your shoulders and onto the floor.

“Take the lead for me Arthur. I’ve never done anything with another man before and I don't know what I’m supposed to do” Smiling at him and you could see the wonton expression on his face as he stared at your bare chest. He let his eyes roll down your body and now that your dress was off, he could see how wet you actually were, it was soaking your underwear. Looking back to your eyes, he requested “Promise me, Y/N. Promise that you will let me know if I am hurting you”

“I promise.” Hooking your fingers in the bands of your underwear, you pulled them down and stepped closer to him. Running your hands through his hair, you looked into his eyes and giggled “I know that you will be ever so gentle with me Arthur, I have dreamed of you doing this”

“I’ve thought about you every day since then” he whispered. Given the position that you both were in, Arthurs head was level with your breasts and after you made your promise, he let himself turn his attention directly to them. Burying his head between your boobs, he ran his hands up the sides of your legs and kissed your skin. When you leaned into his touch, Arthur groaned “I’m the luckiest man alive, darlin”

Your mouth fell open to moan, not only from his words but from the warmth of his wet lips licking around your nipple. He cupped your other breast and carefully fondled it, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he continued to suck on your other one. Arthur growled deeply at your hands tightening in his hair, he could feel you arching your back into him and he saw you squeeze your thighs together.

Slipping his hand between your legs, he quickly found your clit and rubbed slow circles around it. Releasing your nipple with a ‘pop’ he looked into your eyes and carefully watched your reaction as he slid his finger near your hole. He witnessed your eyes blow wide and heard your satisfied moan when letting his finger slip inside. Pulling it out and pushing it back in, Arthur kept doing that until you pleaded for another.

“Are you sure?” he asked. Using your arousal to lube up his fingers, he notched them at your entrance and when you nodded your head, It surprised you at how well you had taken two of his large fingers. Ever since that night in the shed, you have tried to reciprocate the feeling of his hands by entering more of your small fingers inside yourself when masturbating, but it never came close. Then you remembered how he stroked you.

“Do that thing. You did something with your fingers last time” you looked down at him and saw his confusion for half a second before he remembered too. He was going to ask ‘this?’ when he curled his fingers, but as he heard you wail, gripping onto his shoulder and moaning a string of ‘yeses’ to him, Arthur didn’t have to ask. He knew exactly what you needed.

“C’mere baby” he removed his fingers and stood, laying you down on the hay where he was just sitting and assures “You’ll like this darlin” Spreading your legs, he dips his head between your thighs and slides his fingers back inside of your sex, curling them and stroking that sweet spot inside of you with a come hither motion you moaned to him and jerked with shock when his mouth sucked on your clit.

“Oh shit!” Gripping handfuls of his hair, your legs closed over his head as you bucked your hips into him. He moaned with you and the vibrations of his voice added to your pleasure and fast rising orgasm. Looking up at your body, he placed his hand over yours on your stomach and held it gently as he continued flicking his tongue rapidly over your sensitive nub.

“I-im g-gonna c-cum. A-athur!” you babbled to him and he stroked your velvety walls faster as they pulsed around his fingers, he growled into your heat when he felt your hand squeezing his and saw your eyes close before letting go. You writhed and twitched above him with nothing but pure ecstasy as the stars exploded behind your eyes, you could feel your walls clench around his fingers as they slowed down and you whimpered his name.

“I got you darlin” he stopped stroking and removed his fingers, but replaced them with his tongue instead. Swiping through your folds and licking up your desire from your hole before sticking his tongue inside, as far as he could, Arthur pulled back when your legs closed around your head once more. He looked up to your face with his glistening beard and licked his lips “You taste sweet baby”

“Kiss me” whispering to him, Arthur licked through your folds before he slowly moved up your body and planted his lips on yours. Tasting yourself in the kiss, you moaned when he pushed you up the hay bale and laid his weight carefully onto you, then you began removing his jacket.

“I want to feel you” mumbling into him, you ran your hands over his shoulders and slipped his coat off as he began working at the buttons of his shirt. They couldn’t unbutton quick enough so he stood and threw it over his head instead and you sat up with him to unbuckle his belt, but his hands placed on top of yours stopped you. He chuckled in a question “What if it scares you, like last time”

Biting your lip, your cheeks reddened with embarrassment as you expressed a shy giggle and Arthur ducked down to kiss you again, muttering that he was only joking around. The kiss was heated and passionate, the sound of his zipper didn’t tear your eyes away and when he let his cock spring free, it didn’t scare you. Once he was fully undressed and still kissing your lips, he climbed back up and hovered above you, letting your hands explore his body.

“You’re beautiful, Arthur” breaking off from his mouth, you paid him a compliment as your hands and your eyes roamed down his body. He wasn’t used to hearing someone tell him that and his cock stood tall and hard against his lower stomach, twitching at your words. You looked at him before taking him in your hand and like a reflex, his hips jerked at your touch and he breathed deeply as he placed a hand above your head to balance his weight over you.

“Like this baby” he held your hand and pumped his shaft with you, showing you how he likes it and when you kept that rhythm, he let go and placed his hand to your cheek instead to look in your eyes. You were right, your hand doesn’t fully wrap around his girth so you used both to stroke him and there weren't any feelings of uncertainty as you heard Arthurs deep breaths, panting into your mouth in a kiss while he muttered a praise “That feel’s amazing”

Keening at his words, you smiled knowing that you are pleasing him. The sounds he was making were sending new waves of arousal to your pussy and you wrapped your legs around him, looking for his touch. Arthur felt your need and he knew how receptive you were to his words, so he dipped his hands between your legs and rubbed your clit again, mumbling “You feel so good Y/N. So pretty and so gorgeous”

“Don’t stop baby. God, I want you so badly” you moaned. Arthur’s hand above your head gripped handfuls of the hay while his hips bucked into your hands faster, his own fingers slipped down to your hole and slid their way inside. Stroking your walls once again, he rubbed your clit with his thumb simultaneously and grunted “I want you too. Desperately baby but I want you to cum on my fingers one more time”

Nodding your head frantically, you and Arthur watched each other's eyes dilate together as your orgasms neared. Seeing his breathing deepen and his body begin to shudder above you gives you more and more confidence, and the sounds of his pleasure were adding to your own. When you came, clenching around his fingers and going to close your eyes, they sprung open when he groaned your name into your ear as hot ropes of his cum sprung out of his cock, onto your stomach.

“Oh fuck! Fuuuck!” he sighed heavily. Panting through his high, the sweat was beginning to build on his forehead and you removed your hand from his shaft to wipe his face while smiling at him. Laying more of his weight onto you, Arthur whispered “Thank you darlin”

His cock pressed against your stomach, smearing through his cum and you looked down at your bodies that were sticking together before looking back into his eyes. You wanted to feel him inside of you so badly and he could see this, even though he had just ejaculated moments ago, his cock was aching with the thought of your walls wrapped around him.

“You ready, baby?” Kissing your lips before he notched the tip of his cock at your entrance, Arthur looked in your eyes and waited for your answer. Your adrenalin was soaring through your veins but you were eager to feel him finally take your virginity, so you nodded your head and held onto his shoulders.

“Ahhh” closing your eyes and gripping onto his skin, you whimpered to Arthur as he pushed his head inside your sex. He stopped from going any further and gave you as long as you needed to let your walls relax, you were tight and his cock was slowly stretching its way inside when you told him to keep going.

“Rub your clit darlin, it will help” Stopping halfway, he kissed your lips and felt you pulse around him when you touched yourself, slowly pulling himself out, Arthur warned “It’s going to sting baby, you want me to wait?”

“Keep going” shaking your head, you kept rubbing your clit and moaned when he carefully pushed himself back inside and he stopped halfway. He kept doing that, over and over again and slowly but surely, the burn disappeared and you relaxed more and more as the pleasure began to build. “You feel amazing Arthur. You’re really big but it’s nice” you whispered into his lips.

Arthur chuckled and apologised. He didn’t like that it was painful for you and he was glad that it was finally beginning to feel good instead, so he kept to his very slow pace, letting that band of tension gradually build until it would snap with the peak of your orgasm. “You’re the one who feels amazing sweetheart” He replies in a whisper.

Then he gets a surprise when your legs wrapped around his back squeeze together, pulling him into you further and just as he was about to ask if you were sure, you beat him to it, reassuring him “Just a little bit more. It’s ok, I promise.”

As soon as Arthur pushed himself inside of yourself a little further, you felt something break and openly gasped. He stopped moving any further to comfort you “You’re ok darlin, it’s ok.” His soft and sweet voice encouraged you. It didn’t hurt as much as people said it would, it was the sensation of his cock breaking through that layer of skin that frightened you momentarily, but the sound of his voice was soothing your state of shock.

“Thank you Arthur.” you trembled. The tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes but your smile was wide and Arthur knew you were just a little overwhelmed with many emotions, so he leaned down to kiss you. He held you close to him, and when you asked him to move again, he started to gently rock his hips, inching his way inside of you a little deeper with each shallow thrust. “You’re doing so well, Y/N” he praised.

Licking into his mouth in a heated kiss, he grunts when feeling you pulse around him from his appraisal. Your orgasm began to build again quickly and you warned Arthur that you are near. He hooks your thigh over his hip and holds you steady “I’ve got you baby. Go ahead and cum for me”

Arthur buried his head into your neck, holding you closely as you cling to his body. He is so close to reaching his own climax that he struggles from releasing his seed inside of your tight walls constricting around his cock. When you scratch at his back, crying into his ear over your third orgasm of the night he nearly did just that. The vice-like grip around his member was strong and his hips stuttered when pulling out and spilling his cum through your folds.

He rubbed the tip of his shaft over your clit, helping you come down from your high and apologised, again. “Sorry darlin, I got a little too close to staying inside of you there. You just feel so good”

“It’s ok baby” You panted into his mouth. Laying there a few moments, kissing him softly and relishing in the post-coital bliss, he planted his loving kisses all over your face and neck, continuously praising you. “You are breathtaking, girl. How do you feel? Are you ok?”

“I feel great Arthur, and it’s all because of you” you smiled and asked if he was ok as well. Rolling over, he pulled you with him to lay across his chest and bellowed out a few deep hearty chuckles “Never felt this good in all my life Y/N. Feel like i’m eighteen, not twenty eight”

Lifting your head to look into his eyes, you blinked slowly and smirked “I think you look mighty fine for a man in his late twenties, even if you like to steal cattle.” Playfully narrowing your eyes, you pretend to be judging him as Arthur places a hand over his eyes, cringing. Then you giggle when he peeps between the gaps of his fingers and sticks his tongue out at you.

“I should explain why I was doing that in the first place.” He stated.

Shaking your head at him, you mumbled “Not now…” sitting up and rubbing your sex against his semi hard cock, you hovered over Arthur and added “Right now I just want to stay in this moment.”

Arthur looked down his body, at his dick beginning to harden in particular then back at your eyes, asking “Oh yeah?” He grinned widely when feeling you rock your hips and bite your lip while answering him “Yep. I’ve always wondered what it was like to ride a cowboy”

“Have at it girl. I’d love to watch” he placed one hand to your hip, rubbing small reassuring circles on your skin and placed his other on the back of his head, smiling at you before his brows furrowed with delight at you sliding his cock through your folds once more.

You and Arthur made love many times that night in the barn of your farmhouse. He took care of you wonderfully and brought wave after wave of absolute euphoria with each orgasm, all the way up until the early hours of the next morning. After feeling completely spent and exhausted, he lay you on your side and cuddled into you from behind, kissing your shoulder and whispering how honoured he was to be the one to take your purity.

You were the one to fall asleep first. You held out as long as you possibly could, not wanting to waste a minute lying awake with him, but the need for sleep stung at your eyes. When he found some blankets and wrapped them over you both, you were out like a lamp from his body heat under the covers.

Arthur needed to sleep too, but he spent a little more time looking over your peacefully sleeping face. He knows he has to, but he doesn’t want to leave you in the morning and he wishes that he could bring you with him. Arthur doesn’t know how you are going to react when finding out that he is an outlaw, he hopes that you could look past it and see him for what he truly is.

A kind, caring and compassionate man who simply doesn’t play by the rules of the law, because he believes in the old ways of the wild west and the country doesn’t help the people who really need it. He was going to steal the cattle from this barn and use the money to give to the poor, but he immediately stopped his thievery and questioned his morale when he realised they were your cattle. Why is any other farmer or farmhouse any different? He asks himself.

It’s different because it is you. If it were another woman or man that caught him and Marston in the barn, he still would have stolen the cattle, but when he saw your face, Arthur knew he could never steal from you. He couldn’t break your heart like that. How will she react when I tell her that I’m a criminal?

He was anxious that you might hate him and he already hates himself for putting you in this position. These thoughts and questions burden his mind until they wear him down so much that he falls asleep, worrying. Even though you are right beside him, Arthur dreams of you and he hears you sweet voice saying his name, he smiles and groans at what he fantasises you doing and saying to him.

Until he realised you were actually calling his name and when he opened his eyes to look, a barrel of a shotgun was aimed at the pair of you. He saw you holding your hand outwards, blocking it and begging your uncle not to shoot. Arthur doesn’t care for his own life, all he can think about is how you are in a direct line of fire and when he tries to move you out of the way, your uncle pulls the trigger…

[fluffyprettykitty]

Diamonds

Pairing: Selina Kyle x female reader (no other specifications)

Word count: 705 words

Outline: Selina loves to get you gifts but she loves it, even more, when you honor them.

Warnings: smut only, pet names, language, scissoring, if I didn't tag something or tagged something wrong pls let me know!

Author’s Note: This was inspired by @inklore's Selina dating headcanons. I read the gift-giving bullet point and it all came into my head! Also many thanks to @alohastyles-x for beta reading this! &lt;3

dividers by @firefly-graphics //​ banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・Selina Kyle MasterList

NSFW UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

"Do you like it?"

She muses shifting in her chair and placing her hands under her chin looking up at you. You are studying the necklace between your fingers. Diamonds. Many diamonds are glistening in the light coming in from outside.

"This is expensive."

You blurt out in disbelief looking at her.

"I can't accept this, baby."

Selina shakes her head and sets her hands down, sinking herself in the armchair.

"Yeah you can, I didn't pay for it."

She winks at you and begins to pet the cat that just jumped into her lap.

"Baby..." You whine a little glancing between the necklace and her delicate frame.

"You don't like my gifts?" Selina pouts as she leans down to place a kiss on the cat's head.

With a deep sigh, you walk closer to the mirror on the wall and begin to size the necklace on your neck. It looked absolutely ethereal on you, silver crested with big blue opal crystals. A midnight dream. You shake your head with another sigh and place it on your neck until you feel her elegant fingers clasping it for you.

"See, I told you it would look perfect."

Selina places a kiss on your neck and places her hands on your arms caressing them slowly.

"I only want to be perfect for you."

"Good girl. You already are."

"Let me show you how perfect I can be."

"Oh, now you wanna play?"

With a smirk, you turn around and cup her face pulling her into a deep passionate kiss.

"I always wanna play."

“Very well then princess, I will bite.”

“Anything you want me to be and I will do it.”

"I want to fuck you wearing nothing but my diamond necklace."

"Your wish is my command, my queen."

Obediently you remove your clothes and stand naked in front of her, making sure your hair is away from the necklace so she could admire you better.

"How do I look?"

"Like my shiny toy."

A grin is visible on your face and you innocently, but purposely, place your hands under your breasts lifting them up for her before licking a stripe over them.

Selina shakes her head at the sight and takes off her clothes in one swift motion. Impatiently, she grabs your arm and shoves you on the couch followed by climbing on top of you. Trying to wrap your legs around her waist, she begins to grind her body on yours, without giving you a moment to breathe. Her hands go to your collarbones, looking at the necklace, while she moves her pussy against your body needily.

"You look so fucking pretty, angel."

Your response is your chorus of moans, lust filling your head and throwing away any thought while you are gripping her hips for some stability, some extra pressure. A primal need has overcome her and she is moving fast and rough, not caring for pleasantries, she needs to christen the necklace and she needs to do it now.

"Give it to me, baby, come on, shout my name like the good little whore you are."

"Baby, fuck!"

You curse out as you feel the coil inside you tighten, her desperation and her dirty talk only made you hornier, but only for her. A wave of electricity hits your body and you scream out her name, loud enough for anyone in the neighborhood to hear it, moving your hips uncontrollably. Selina comes after you with a loud shuddering fuck, pressing her pussy against your, shaking her body from above you, until she halts her movements, her head thrown back.

"Always such a godman pleasure doing business with you."

She collapses on top of you, tracing her fingers over the necklace.

"I might be open to more gifts in the future if you promise you are going to fuck me like that every time."

"Only caring about how hard I can fuck her. Interesting. "

"I already won your heart baby."

And you both had indeed.

“You know what else would look pretty covered in diamonds?”

“My tits?”

Selina grimaces, liking the idea of your breasts covered in diamonds but she shook her head no.

“That pussy deserves a diamond thong.”

“Will gladly accept it.”

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