#eh getting personal on a monday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sourcherryandsprinkles · 3 months ago

Note

Can you write modern Jace being a blind king? Those glasses looks THICK. Maybe reader come to his dorm and see him with his glasses?

Request: Roommates college au where there’s a mixup with the dorms and they end up in the same dorm. Imagine rooming with Jace? He’d be so cute and maybe a little nerdy idk. She moves out but they become friends…and then more than friends

The second request has been sitting in my ask for a long time (sorry). I watched Insidious: The Red Door the other day and it gave me inspiration for it (I had planned to add smut in this one but it didn't end up fitting and my laptop didn't save a few of the scenes I had written so I had to rewrite them...not as good or cute as the first time)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When you arrived at your assigned dorm, there were already people there. One was a boy with curly hair, and the other a woman with white-blond hair. Their backs were all turned, so they didn’t see you come in with your suitcase.

‘’No, Mom, you don't have to do that. I can do it myself,’’ he said, trying to stop her from unpacking a box. ‘’Classes don’t start until Monday.’’

‘’But I want to help you settle in,’’ she insisted, taking a lamp out of the box and setting it on the nightstand. ‘’My first boy is leaving for college. This is difficult for me, Jace. Let me at least help you with your bed. No one makes a bed better than a mother.’’

Jace sighed in defeat and moved out of her way so she could make his bed. ‘’Okay. Thanks, Mom.’’

She grabbed sheets from another box and began making the bed. ‘’Where are your brothers and father? Taking the last boxes out of the car shouldn’t take so long. I hope they didn’t get lost on campus.’’

You watched them with jealousy, wishing your parents had dropped you off at college too. It was a rite of passage for freshman students. But you understood that your parents had jobs they could not take days off from.

You stood there for a moment before clearing your throat to announce your presence. ‘’This is room 309?’’

Jace’s mom looked up first, giving you a kind smile. ‘’Oh, hello there. Yes, this is 309. Are you looking for someone?’’

‘’No. Eh, this is my dorm,’’ you said with a frown, holding your paper in your hand. ‘’It says 309.’’

Jace turned around, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. ‘’That’s impossible, there must be a mistake. This is a boys hall, and boys and girls aren’t supposed to room together. It’s nothing against you, I personally don’t see a problem rooming with a girl. It’s just…not permitted.’’

‘’I know. But it says here that this is my dorm.’’

‘’Let me see that paper, sweetheart.’’ The blond woman looked at your paper, her eyes reading the information slowly. ‘’Oh, no. You’re right. There must be a mistake on the college’s part.’’

‘’You should go to the housing office,’’ Jace suggested with the same kind smile as his mother. ‘’They’ll switch you to another hall.’’

You nodded. ‘’I’m gonna go and see if they can solve this issue. Can I leave my suitcase here?’’

‘’Of course.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The line outside the housing office was crazy due to the hoard of students coming back, so you didn't get back to your dorm until well later in the evening. There were no voices coming from inside your dorm, meaning Jace's family must have left.

You knocked before coming in, not wanting to walk in on something you should not be seeing. But Jace did not hear you, laying on his bed with a book and headphones on. You didn’t take him for a reader, nor a glasses wearer.

‘’What did they say at housing?’’ he asked, taking down his headphones and shutting his book.

You walked over to the empty bed and fell down on it, exhausted. ‘’They basically said sorry for the inconvenience and that I gotta sleep here tonight. But I’ll get a new room tomorrow, so it’s not a permanent thing.’’

Jace hummed. ‘’Do you need help settling for the night?’’

You shook your head, standing. ‘’No. I’m just gonna get my pillow and blanket, and change into pajamas. There’s no point unpacking when I move again tomorrow.’’

Your suitcase was heavy, so you lowered it on the floor and grabbed your pillow and blanket, then rummaged through your suitcase for your pajamas. As you held up your shorts and a tee shirt, you remembered that this was a boys' hall, meaning the bathrooms would be full of boys.

Jace seemed to read your mind. ‘’Eh, I can turn around so you can change,’’ he offered. ‘’I promise I’m not gonna look. I can even take off my glasses if you want, I’m blind as a mile without them.’’

You chuckled at his offer. What a gentleman, you noted. Making sure you feel comfortable during this inconvenience. ‘’That's okay. Just turning around is fine."

He nodded and turned his back to you, facing the wall. ‘’You’re in art school?’’ he asked, making conversation as you changed so it would be less awkward. ‘’I've seen your sketchbook and art supplies beside your suitcase. Not that I snooped through your things. I promise I didn’t.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ you replied, pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra. It felt daunting to be topless in the same room as an almost-stranger, but you tried to not think too much about it. ‘’And you’re in...?'

''Political science,’’ he finished. ‘’My grandfather went to this university, so I’m following his footsteps. I’m also taking a side class in History for personal pleasure.’’

Political science was not what you expected him to say, but it made sense. With his glasses, he had the politician look — minus the sweats and tee shirt.

What kind of weirdo takes a history class for fun?

‘’I know what you’re thinking — history is boring. But I love learning about the past civilisations and how ancient monuments were built, it’s so fascinating. Like the Moai Statues, the Giza pyramids or the Colosseum of Rome.’’

‘’Have you ever visited one of them?’’ You slipped into your pajamas, and threw your dirty clothes on top of your suitcase.

His lips curled into an excited grin. ‘’I have! Last year, my family and I went to Italy and my dad took me and my brother Luke to see the Colosseum. It was magnificent. I took pictures. Do you want to see?’’

‘’Sure.’’

You sat back on your bed and Jace turned back around, reaching to grab his ipad to show you the pictures he took. His passion for history could be heard as he talked about the Colosseum, telling you facts you had never heard of. Eventually, the pictures came to an end, and Jace accidentally swiped too far, showing you a picture of his brothers and him making faces in Italy.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

You didn’t think so many people would be up early on a Saturday. The queue at the campus café was insane. All for a coffee and a bagel.

As you walked across the quad, trying to get to the bookstore to get everything you needed for Monday, flyers were being shoved into your face, advertising for clubs, frat parties and sorority houses who were scouting for new members. You were not interested in any, but they were not taking no for answer.

A neon party? What year were they stuck into?

You threw all the invitations in the trash.

On your way back from the bookstore, you received an email from the housing office with your new dorm information. You could move in immediately, but needed to stop by for your new key.

So that's what you did.

You couldn’t wait to get to your new dorm and finally shower.

‘’You’re already going?’’ Jace asked, coming in with a paper bag containing lunch from the café you went to this morning.

You nodded, finishing zipping up your suitcase. ‘’I’m not going too far, though. I’m just a floor up, right above you, so if you jerk off or have a girl over, remember that I can hear all.’’

Jace’s cheeks turned a shade of pink, getting flustered.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Although you had moved out, you found yourself standing outside your old dorm a few days later.

‘’Howdy roomie,’’ you said when Jace opened. ‘’Let’s go out, I’m hungry.’’

Before he could say anything, you stepped in as if it was still your dorm and sat on the empty bed that used to be yours. They must not have found him a new roommate. On the desk, you noticed Jace’s laptop was opened along with his textbook.

The brunet frowned, clearly confused by your presence. ‘’Eh, what are you doing here?’’

‘’Taking my roommate out for pizza?’’ you replied. You had not eaten since that granola bar at lunch and your stomach was screaming.

‘’We’re not roommates anymore.’’

You rolled your eyes. It was a minor detail. ‘’I know, but you’re the person I’ve spent the most time with since getting here and I don’t feel like going out to eat alone. Please, Jace,’’ you said, pouting to put all chances on your side.

He was taken back. This wasn’t a common occurrence for him. A girl knocking on his door and asking him out — platonically or not.

His frown disappeared, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. ‘’Fine,’’ he sighed. ‘’I’ll put on my shoes.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Getting pizza after class on Wednesday became a weekly rendez-vous. You sat at the same table, ordered the same toppings — pepperoni with extra cheese and red bell peppers —, and talked about anything but school. You made it an official rule on your fourth date when Jace spent the whole time biting his fingers and worrying about a paper that was due at the end of the week.

Pizza dates were your special time to unwind and stop thinking of schoolwork.

As you both settled into your usual spot, hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside. Early autumn rain was the worst. The weather was too warm to carry around a jacket, but when you didn’t have one, rain would randomly start pouring.

You took a second slice of pizza and glanced at Jace. ‘’I’m gonna need your help for a project for my art class.’’

His eyes widened slightly, and he quickly swallowed his bite of pizza. ‘’Nope!’’

You frowned at his immediate refusal. ‘’You don’t want to help me?’’

‘’No! That’s not that,’’ he assured. ‘’Didn’t we make a rule that we would not be speaking of school while eating pizza? You’re breaking your own rule,’’ he pointed out.

You sighed dramatically, leaning back in the booth. ‘’I know… But Mrs. Rosenberg told us this afternoon that we needed a model for our proportion piece and I didn’t want to forget about it. All you have to do is sit and look pretty while I draw you.’’

Jace raised an eyebrow. ‘’Oh, so you think I’m pretty?’’ he teased, stuffing a huge bite of pizza in his mouth before you could swat his arm.

You rolled your eyes and took a bite of your own slice. ‘’So, will you be my model?’’

He thought about it, a slight pout on his lips. ‘’What’s in it for me?’’

‘’Extra time with your favorite roommate?’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

‘’Is this okay? I have a red polo somewhere. Maybe it would look better?’’ Jace asked as you laid out your art material on the second, unused, desk.

You shook your head, and started propping up your small easel. ‘’You’re perfect like this.’’

He nodded slowly, his cheeks flushing a bit as he settled into position by the desk lamp you had priorly angled. The silence between you was comfortable as you began tracing Jace's features on your canvas, and you took a moment to really look at him — his curly hair, the faint freckles across his aquiline nose, the highlight of his pouty lips, and the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his tee shirt.

He was nervous. You immediately picked on it when you came in with your canvas and art supplies. His demeanor was different than usual.

‘’Can you move your head slightly to the left?’’

Jace complied, the dull yellow light of the lamp hitting exactly where you wanted it. Now, you could see all the angles and edges of his face.

‘’Yes! That’s perfect!’’

You continued tracing the contrasts and outlines of your model's face, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Jace found it cute, but he kept it to himself.

The afternoon passed. You painted and mixed colors on your palette, lost in your creative bubble while Jace was trying his best to keep his posture...which was starting to ache. Sitting completely straight for hours was more difficult than he thought.

As you were working on his complexion, you stole glances at your ex-roommate, trying to get every detail on your canvas, and noticed him shifting slightly, uncomfortable.

‘’You know,’’ you began, breaking the silence. ‘’You don’t have to stay completely still like a statue. Feel free to move a little or adjust. I'll tell you if it doesn't work for me.’’

Jace gave a small laugh, the sound light and nervous. ‘’I’m not really used to this… Playing the model.’’

‘’I think you're doing good. Just...a bit stiff.’’

You continued painting him until the sun began to set, then called for a much deserved snack break. Jace pulled out a pack of Oreos from the snack box in his closet and your eyes turned into hearts. They were your favorite.

‘’You really know the way to a girl’s heart,’’ you said as you took a third cookie from the pack.

Jace smiled at you, pleased to see you enjoying them. He took a fifth one and chewed slowly as crumbs fell on his shirt. Oreos were messy. ‘’My mom sent them to me in a care package last week. I need my sugar to stay focused when I stay up late doing schoolwork.’’

Your heart melted at the sweet attention from Jace’s mother.

‘’How is the painting going?’’

‘’It’s coming together nicely. But it won’t be finished tonight. Painting takes a while. Especially portraits,’’ you replied. ‘’I need to get every little detail right. From that one curl that’s almost poking you in the eye to the dust of freckles on your nose.’’

The brunet’s cheeks flushed a bit at your words. He was not sure what to do with the feeling bubbling up in his stomach. Was this a compliment? Gods, he sucked with girls.

You stayed in Jace’s dorm until one of you began yawning and it was time to call it a night. He helped you put your painting supplies away and even offered to clean your brushes in the boys’ bathrooms. This guy was a true sweetheart.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The following afternoon, you approached Jace's dorm, your painting supplies tucked under your arm. A lot of students used their Sunday to do their laundry, so you hoped he was there. You should have texted him before coming.

You were about to knock, fist raised, when you paused at the door, hearing the faint sound of a facetime conversation coming from inside.

‘’She’s not my girlfriend. Shut up, Luke,’’ Jace's voice came through, tinged with frustration.

You could imagine his cheeks heating up.

‘’You go on dates all the time…and you said she was cute, and talented, and funny,'' Luke's voice, younger and teasing, said, recalling everything.

You should feel ashamed for eavesdropping on a conversation about you, but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, butterflies filling your stomach. Jace had talked to his brother about you? If Luke assumed you were his girlfriend, he must have talked about you more than once.

‘’We’re just friends. I don’t have time for a girlfriend anyway. I have a lot of schoolwork,’’ Jace interrupted, his tone firm but slightly defensive.

‘’Nerd,’’ Luke snickered.

You didn’t meet him on moving day, but you assumed he was the kind of brother who loved to tease his siblings. From what Jace had told you, he was quite the little troublemaker.

A few doors down, a guy walked out of his dorm with a bag of dirty clothes and sweatpants low on his hips, and stared you down as you stood in the corridor. He was walking your way, so you took this as your cue to knock on Jace’s door. The sound echoed throughout the quiet corridor, louder than you intended.

‘’Ohh is that your girlfriend?’’

‘’No, it's...pizza delivery. Tell Mom I’ll call her tonight,’’ he added in a softer tone.

You heard movement inside and soon Jace opened the door, greeting you with his usual bright smile. He had glasses and gray sweats on, meaning he had likely not left his dorm at all today.

‘’Hey, you’re here! I was starting to think you made other plans…’’ Jace said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

‘’Never,’’ you replied, walking past him and setting your things down like yesterday. ‘’Besides, I need to bring in my final piece Wednesday morning and I still have a lot left to paint. It would have been a poor choice to not come.’’

Behind you, Jace nodded. ‘’Eh, should I change into the shirt I had yesterday? Because I slept in and didn’t do laundry.’’

You shook your head. ‘’The color of your shirt does not matter. I’m still painting your pretty face.’’

Jace smiled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly; it was a nervous habit he had, you had discovered. ‘’I’ll go sit at my spot, then.’’

‘’Have you taken a peak while I was not there?’’ you asked as you placed the canvas and easel in front of your chair.

You glanced over at him, half-expecting a guilty grin, but he shook his head, his dark curls bouncing slightly. ‘’No. I want to be surprised.’’

You finished setting your stuff up quietly.

The sky was gray today, clouds hanging heavy as if threatening rain, so you were thankful for the artificial light you chose to use yesterday. Natural light is great, but frustrating as it changes with time and weather.

When you began mixing colors and painting, you felt Jace’s shy gaze on you. His eyes would dart away when you almost caught him, pretending to be interested in something else, only to glance back at you a moment later. It was a silent game, one that made you smile every time you almost caught him.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

About an hour into your painting, rain started to fall heavily and the sky began to shake with thunder. It echoed loudly around the room, causing the lights to flash.

You were used to rain and thunderstorms, so you didn't think this one was strong enough to cause a power outage, but after an especially loud crack of thunder, the whole dorm went dark.

‘’I guess that’s our cue to stop for today,’’ you said with a small laugh, barely able to see your canvas in front of you. You sighed, slightly frustrated by the interruption, and put your brush down on the easel.

Jace moved to his window, seeing the pouring rain and an impressive lightning flashing in the distance. ''Looks like it's not going to let up anytime soon.'' He glanced at your face, but was blinded by the brightness of your phone’s light.

You quickly apologized, laughing. ‘’I didn't mean to do that,’’ you promised.

He glared at you and went back to his bed, rubbing his eyes. ‘’It’s worse with my glasses. I can’t see.’’

You laughed harder, directing the light to the ceiling so no one would be blinded by it. ‘’Do you think the university has a generator?’’

‘’For the academic buildings, not the residences. It would take a massive one to provide power to the whole campus,’’ Jace explained, finally starting to get his vision back. ‘’We’re stuck in the dark until it gets back.’’

You sighed and abandoned your side to move and sit on Jace’s bed. You could have gone back to your dorm, but you would be sitting alone in the dark. He turned his head to look at you, noticing you sitting on the edge of his bed, and moved back to make more room for you. You smiled, a silent ‘thank you’.

Thankfully, it was only mid-November, so it was not that cold. But it will get cold eventually if the power goes out for too long…

After a few hours, the power was not back. And the room had gotten a little cold, so Jace offered you one of his hoodies. It was gray and felt like a blanket on you. And it smelled like him — woodsy and comforting.

Through this long darkness and silence, you found yourself thinking about the conversation you heard when you came to his dorm. You figured it was heavily influenced by the hoodie enveloping you.

‘’Jace?’’

He hummed, sitting in his corner against his pillows.

The words vomited out before you could stop them. ‘’Why did you tell your brother that you didn’t have time for a girlfriend when you spend all your free time with me?’’

The brunet was taken aback by your question. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. ‘’W-what?’’ he stammered, his cheeks flaming. ‘’How do you know—’’

‘’I heard you on the phone earlier. I didn't mean to listen, I just…did.’’

Jace cleared his throat and spoke quietly, his voice strained and embarrassed. ‘’You weren’t supposed to hear that...’’ He looked away from you, avoiding your gaze. ''What else have you heard?''

A lump of guilt knotted inside your stomach for putting him on the spot like this. ''Not much. A guy walked out of his dorm and was staring me down, so I knocked on your door to get away,'' you explained in truth.

There was a moment of silence as Jace picked at his fingers. He was still embarrassed, but he needed to push it to the side and make something useful out of it. ‘’I told Luke I didn’t have time for a girlfriend because I don’t know how to have a girlfriend. I mean, I do know the principle. I just…don’t know how to talk to girls.’’

You smiled, finding his honesty adorable. ‘’You’re talking to me now,’’ you said with a hint of amusement hiding behind your words.

‘’And it’s exactly the problem. We’re just talking,’’ he muttered more to himself than to you.

‘’Would you like us to do more than talking?’’ you asked flirtatiously, extending an invisible hand for Jace to grasp.

Slowly, his gaze shifted back to you. ‘’It depends what you mean by more than talking…’’

There was another loud crack of thunder, echoing and shaking the walls. The loud noise made Jace jump slightly, nervous from the proximity between you. He tried to brush it off, but you grinned and inched closer to cup his face.

''Tell me if you want me to stop.''

His eyes found yours and he gripped the blanket, needing something to grab to take his nerves off. ''I don't want you to stop.''

You leaned closer, your hand still on his cheek, and pressed your lips onto his. The touch of your lips sent a jolt of electricity up Jace's spine. He gasped, having never felt so much from a simple kiss, and kissed you back without hesitation, his lips plush but chapped against yours.

More lightning pierced the horizon outside the window, but you were too lost in each other's lips to notice. Jace's hand that was not grabbing the blanket came to rest on your hip to pull you a little closer. He was gentle and inexperienced, you could feel it in the way he was touching you.

You pulled away to catch your breath, but a needy whine left his lips, grabbing your hip with more force and pulling you back in. He was not done kissing you.

When night came and the power finally returned, you didn’t go to your dorm. You borrowed one of Jace’s tee shirts and slid under the covers with him. You both had classes at 8am, so you simply laid together, Jace’s head on your chest while you gently rubbed his back and slowly fell asleep.

—

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novashelby · 4 months ago

Text

The Nanny Conundrum~A Tommy Shelby Smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Nanny!Reader (3rd person)

Warnings: Male masterbation, voyeurism. Meant to be kind of funny. A little cringe and embarrassing.

Prompt 93

Word Count: 2,791

Summary: Tommy Shelby just got a new nanny for Charlie. She's a sweet, delicate girl, but learns quite a thing or two about men while hiding for a game of hide n seek.

Please enjoy. I appreciate reblogs and comments. Likes are kind and thoughtful, and I appreciate you reading my work. However, reblogs really help writers out. So, please, considering rebloging.

Tommy was only delicate and proper with a select few people, and she was one of them, but he couldn’t help himself. Not even Satan himself could give her a rough handling. She was delicate looking, sounding, and acting. Like a daisy, really. And on top of it, she was so, so good with Charlie. Just two years old, losing his mother a few short months before. He was hesitant at first, not wanting to go through a whole hiring process. And so, he convinced Mary and Francis to take on the extra duty. Though, two aging women, their patience was waning. Enough was enough, Mr. Shelby was getting a nanny for the poor boy.

It was difficult for Mr. Shelby to find employees as many were aware of his antics. There were a few applicants…none did anything for him. They were old. Had no energy with a sharp tongue. Mr. Shelby didn’t want anyone with a sharp tongue. Then there was a quiet time with weeks in between; no applicants had walked through the door.

Until one day, someone did. It was a Sunday, too. Which got a work motivated man like himself excited. Mary had knocked on the door and he grumbled for her to enter. Behind her was a girl, not too tall and with a young face. He couldn’t make out her age, but her cheeks were round and blushed with youth. He noticed how when she smiled, her eyes would as well and she’d let out this delicate laugh.

It was right then that he knew. Unlike the others, he immediately slid back his chair and stood, straightening his blue white lined vest. Mary was surprised at the soft smile that tugged at his usually stiff lips. His stress lines seemed to ease, but most of all he turned gentle. Mary watched aghast how he waltzed around his mahogany desk and rushed over to her. Never had he ever shook a woman’s hand as such; both hands gently holding her right. “I’m Mr. Shelby,” he said, and Mary couldn’t take anymore. She gave her employer a pursed look, brow raised, and he mouthed what.

“I will take my leave, Mr. Shelby,” she said. “I must go to the kitchens and yell at the staff.” The young girl frowned a bit and turned to watch the woman leave.

“Is she alright?” she asked, turning her attention back to the man who was still holding her hand.

He was quick to nod and offer a smile. “Yes, yes! She’s fine. Don’t worry about her, eh? I think all women get a certain edge to them when they hit about seventy-”

“And men,” she giggled, putting a finger out.

Kindly, he chuckled back. “I think we develop that a bit younger. Anyway! Come! Take a seat, eh?” He walked her over to the desk, hand resting politely on her mid-back. “So, are you looking for a nanny position?” They sat across from one another and she handed over CV paperclipped together. His eyes quickly scanned it, grinning. “Nanny program in London, worked for the same family for 2 years, twenty years old, born in Boston to English parents, and the second oldest of six children.” He put it down and pushed it over to her. “You understand this is a live in position, love?” Love. A red rosy tint fell on her face and she had to look away shyly. She could not lie. Of course, Mr. Shelby was a handsome man smooth with his words. “You’d be here Monday to Sunday. Of course, you will have free time and vacation time. Sundays off.”

“The pay?” she asked. “A family in London has offered me six pounds.”

Six bloody fuckin’ pounds, Mr. Shelby thought to himself, a bit stunted. But nonetheless, he said, “I can offer ten, plus you’ll have a room, food, and free roam of the property. I’ll allow leave for all holidays, Sunday’s off, and early leave on Wednesdays. You’ll be allowed three sick days a calendar year-”

“I can start today,” she said, abruptly, far too eager to work for him. The benefits were like nothing she’d even been offered. He paused, smile dropping a bit, not used to people being so…interested. She coughed a bit and fixed herself in the chair. “Sorry,” she said, clearing her throat. “I can start today. If you would have me, of course.”

He nodded, “not today. Tomorrow. You’ll start tomorrow.”

Everyone liked her. She was like a breath of fresh air. A positive influence on everyone. Francis and Mary seemed more at ease and talked with less grouch. The kitchen danced when she waltzed in. The other maids enjoyed how she was incredibly courteous of the messes Charlie would make. Even John and Arthur started to look forward to coming to Arrow house. Despite their miserable to be around brother who did nothing, but demand this and that from them.

And Mr. Shelby, well...he found himself smiling a tad more when he saw her with Charlie.

She was a wonderful nanny. On top of the normal tasks, she actually played with Charlie and helped with his coloring and motor tasks. She’d sing to him and dance with him. And unlike most girls her age, she wasn’t opposed to rolling around in the grass with him. They’d sleep in the grass and dance in the rain with their shoes off. Charlie was in love with her! Mr. Shelby would watch from the window, feeling this pool of warmth within him when they’d run around in circles.

“Ah, look at her,” Francis sighed, putting the tea tray on his desk. “Her frocks are always stained with grass.”

Mr. Shelby flicked closed the blinds and sat at his desk, making up his tea with just a tad of sugar and milk. He enjoyed some honey as well those days. “It’ll rain soon, suppose they’ll come inside. She’s been reading to him a lot.”

Francis smiled. “Very good. Will you be heading to the stables? Should I prepare-”

“No, no,” he said. “I’m just going to enjoy my cuppa, eh? And you should take a rest.” A rest. That was also something new. Mr. Shelby was allowing staff to have much more rest since she came.

He finished his tea and went off to the stables when the two were coming in from their adventures from outside. After clean up time and a book, Charlie was still restless, wanting to run around and play. She pouted and poked his nose, “Charlie, I got a game for you!” His eyes widened and he giggled in excitement. She leaned in as if it was something special. “HIde n’ seek! I will hide. Okay? Has Charlie remembered his numbers?”

“One…two..three..eight…four…six…nine…five,” he counted off and she chuckled, telling him it was just fine enough. She picked him up and placed him facing the wall, explaining that he had to count to ten slowly and not move.

“I will hide somewhere, Charlie, on the first floor, okay?” she smiled, ruffling his hair before skipping out. She giggled as she heard his cute counting before opening and closing each door, unsure of where to hide before he stopped counting. She slipped into Mr. Shelby’s office, not seeing the harm when he wasn’t around. Under the desk, she crammed herself in a ball and waited.

She heard Charlie call for her in a laugh, running around the hallway. She could tell that he checked the bathroom first then her room before going back to his room. She waited and waited before the office door opened, and she grinned, getting ready to say you win! When Mr. Shelby coughed. Wincing, she wondered if she should climb out and explain that they were playing hide and seek or wait for him to leave, but to her annoyance, he took a seat at his desk. At first, he fumbled around with some papers before cursing under his breath, seeming frustrated. She was sucking in her lips to hold back any loud breathing. But what he did next was…shocking. There were no other words to explain it. Shocking. To her, at least. A young twenty year old girl who surprisingly lived a very modest and conservative life. Never had she even held hands with a boy, nevermind witness what she was about to witness. His hands went to his belt clasp and fumbled with the golden hoop before easily undoing his trousers. Peeking out was a pair of men’s white underwear. Maybe he’s just getting comfortable, she told herself, but was quickly proven wrong when he let out a soft groan and slipped under the waistband of his underwear. She watched, frozen. He rubbed himself a bit under his underwear, grinding his hips up at his hand. Soft groans and eager curses filled the room in a hushed manner. As if he was ashamed of doing such a thing in his own home. It was all new to her, and she watched equally horrified and curious while kicking herself for being so stupid. A million hiding spots and she chose the very one he had to wank in. Peculiarly, a small wet spot formed where the tip was. Stupidly, she wanted to just reach up and touch it, but the thought lodged to the back of her head when he pulled it out. There was nothing she could compare it to, being the first cock she’d ever seen. But her cunt ached in an almost fear-like response seeing the shape and length. The tip was glistening with a sticky substance that he didn’t hesitate rubbing his thumb against. “Fuck,” he let out, leaning back slightly. Between his thumb and index, he rubbed it before giving his cock three good tugs. How it dripped out in a long string before pooling a little tiny dot onto the floor next to her. Swallowing, she looked down at it…just a little dab. A droplet. For a split second, she considered touching it. Mimicking how he rolled it between his fingers just to see what it felt like. But she couldn’t do it. It felt grotesque…dirty. Sinister? That’s when she heard him spit on his hand, drawing her attention from the precum and back to his twitching cock. His spit ran down the shaft, wetting the chair.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunted, his hand wrapping around himself, twisting around. He moved slowly up and down, teasing the sensation. It’d been such a long time since he last rubbed one out. Though loving a good fuck, self pleasure was never something he needed to ease an urge. But he felt it that day. His cock consistently throbbed at the seams of his trousers. Not even a smoke and a drink calmed him. And so, he resorted to a good old school wank. Admittedly, it was quite nice. Alone in his element, just feeling himself. “Shit.” His started to roll upward, fucking his hand.

Alone…except for the sweet nanny under his desk, trapped in quite a predicament she wasn’t quite sure she liked. His hand started to move a bit faster with a better rhythm. He was flowing a stream of grunts, curses, groans, moans, and inaudible sentences. “Baby,” he cried, head rolled back, eyes closed. “Fuck me, c’mon-shit!” He hummed, running a hand over his face. She swallowed and panicked that maybe he knew she was there. Did he? Who was he talking to? But she didn’t move. She hardly even breathed scared he’d hear her. “Mmmmhm.” Pausing, he spit on his hand again before rubbing it all over. Just as he resumed his speed, he said something she could hardly believe. Her name. Followed by a, “just like that…good fuckin’ girl.” In shock, her eyes widened and her hands instantly covered her mouth. “Bounce up and down, right on my cock. Ride my fuckin’ cock!” His breaths became jagged while his hips twitched and jolted. He was close…so fucking close.

Meanwhile, the poor girl tried to block it out. But how could she? So close to a man jerking his cock, calling her name. Her fucking name? Imagining her bouncing on it. She couldn’t help, but wonder if this was his first time thinking of her like this. She hated to admit it, but her thighs were struggling to stay still. So, so tempted to rub them together to ease a surprise heat growing between her legs. “That’s good, baby, keep doing that….Ugh! Fuck!” He paused, edging himself. She noticed when he stopped, his hands clenched around it harder, shaking. Then he slowly went back to tugging and rubbing, easing back into the lost rhythm. “I bet you are so fuckin’ tight.” One hand slowly went between her legs to cup her aching pussy as she suppressed a whine. “Fuck, I want to corrupt that little fuckin’ cunt….Make you into a dirty little fuckin’ slut. My dirty slut…fuck!” He jolted upward, other hand gripping a chair arm before easing back into speed.

Make you into a dirty little fuckin’ slut. My dirty slut. Those words imprinted themselves in her head. His words were disgusting, filthy, and humiliating, but so fucking erotic. His possessiveness was like honey. It took so much effort to not ease her curiosities and reach her hand up to touch his cock. So, she had to just watch. Watching was so hot, but so torturous. When he started to get sloppy with his movements, she prepared for him to stop again, but he didn’t. “F-fuck!” He cried out, tugging one last time before a stream of white came from his cock. She was expecting it to be like the sticky clear mess, but no, his cum shot.

In fact, it shot at her…on her face. Frozen, feeling the warmth that landed over her eyelids and dripped down her face and over her lips. Appalled and embarrassed, how was she going to face him after that? With his excrement painting her face. He let out one last, “fuck,” before tiredly tucking himself away and buckling his belt. He took the handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hands. Sliding back in his chair and standing, she was sure that he was going to leave, but no. He kneeled down to clean up wherever the cum landed, coming face to face with her…wearing it.

Never had he ever been so mortified, looking at the girl who seemed as if she saw death. His cum was right there…teasing at her lips. His nanny….Had she watched the whole thing? Heard every word? Of course. She had to. He swallowed, and said, “Um…this isn’t a great napping spot-”

“Mr. Shelby,” she stuttered out, tongue darting out almost instinctively, accidentally swiping the cum off. She winced as it tasted salty. His eyes flickered down to her quivering lips, widening. There was a bit of silence before she continued. “I was playing hide n seek-”

“In my office?” he asked, not exactly mad. More stunned and quiet than anything. He felt as if he was a young man again, ashamed of rubbing one out.

“I’m competitive. I didn’t think he’d look in here,” she responded with the same tone. He nodded slowly, reaching out to clean her face, but she took the rag and did it herself before going to hand it back.

“Keep it,” he said, slowly standing and grabbing for his whiskey. He didn’t even bother pouring it in a glass as he swigged it from the bottle. She crawled out from under the desk watching him gulp it like water. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he cursed, putting it down and turning to her. “Did you-”

“Yes,” she said before he could finish the quest. Nervously, she averted her attention off to the side, playing with her dress. His eyes skimmed over her, heart rate through the roof. His head was swarming with a whole bunch of conflictions. “Should I pack my things?” Mr. Shelby licked at his bottom lip and itched the arch of his nose. “Um…well, I think it is alright. You’re not the first woman to look at it. Probably not the last unless I drop dead right now…which is fuckin’ possible.” She bowed and tried to slowly back away when he looked over at her. “C’mere. I’m not done with you. As much as I’d like to jump out this fuckin’ window, you’re still my employee and you were in my office without permission. Why don’t you take a seat-no, no. Right here.” She nervously looked at where his hand was pointing. It was the desk. “C’mere,” he patted. “Sit on the desk like a good girl.” The words played back in her head and she did so…like a fuckin’ good girl.

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carmenized-onions · 6 months ago

Text

The Other Shoe | Consultation

logline; old wounds tend not to heal, if you don't let them. but, there is hot chocolate, and love. so perhaps that's enough.

[!!!] series history, this is the seventh; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. Finally got Hozier on here. Don't know how that took me so long.

portion; 3.1k

possible allergies; two absolutely garbage mental states of people who are NOT over Mikey or the way they've been treated. Bunch of self-loathin, the whole lot.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns!)

Took me a minute, new jobs goin' well though!! This one took a lot of stewing, lmao. Lot of staring and thinking. We'll talk after, but SO many alterations were made lmao.

It has been three weeks since you met Carmen in a freezer.

Six days since you were at his apartment. Ish.

Roughly forty-three weeks since the worst day of your life. Doesn’t feel like it.

In five days, you’ll have the second— Well, maybe third or fourth, worst day of your life.

But today is Monday, and you don’t know what’s coming yet.

It’s just after one in the morning, and you wake up to a phone call. Carmy. Yes, do not disturb was on. Yes, you’d set him on priority access— Which most people would find very cute and intimate, and it is— But he’s not the only one. It’s not a limited feature for people you want to kiss. There’s Syd, Richie, …Mikey…

Cause when is the right time to delete a dead friend’s contact info? It’s not right now. You know it’s not right now. And it probably won’t be tomorrow, either.

Phone call. You’re getting a phone call.

“Carm?”

“…”

You stir a little, bit, when there’s no reply, brain dehazing. “Carmy? Everything okay?”

You hear the beep of the phone call being ended. No way he butt-dialed you, right? You’re awake. You’re so awake. This feels all too familiar, and that's not a good thing. You immediately open your phone to text him, by the time you get to his contact, he’s already texted you. Actively texting you, in a rapid, manic succession.

‘fuck’

‘sorry’

‘you were supposed to be asleep’

Hm.

‘talking to a person hard right now?’

‘yes’

‘you’re so smart.’

‘easier to talk to robot you.’

‘wowwww’

It’s hard to write funny, right now. It’s hard to act like yourself, right now. You’re not sure how you’re doing it.

‘not what I meant’

‘I know. You’re you.’

‘you wanna send a voice message maybe?’

‘it’s fine. I’ll text.’

You give him time, you expect a paragraph since he’s taking so long, but instead you get,

‘can’t.’

‘carmen.’

‘I like you so much.’ Oh be still your stupid heart.

‘feeling is mutual.’

‘I can’t make my problems the only reason I talk to you’

Is that true? Fuck, that's kind of true, isn't it? But there's the puzzles! And there's been phone calls!

‘You talk to me for other reasons’

‘yeah. But it’s mostly problems’

‘with me.’

‘eh. Not really. Walk-in was you, toilet was Mikey, Nat had a baby, I’d consider the oven a shared problem of you and Syd’

‘oven was my fault’

He types for even longer this time. It’s hard not to interrupt him. When you start to type, he sends.

‘can I come over?’

‘I know it’s late’

‘I’ll come pick you up.’

‘no’

‘I’ll walk. I’ll be there in 20.’

‘it’s not a problem to pick you up.’ It's a problem if he doesn't let you pick him up.

‘I know.’

‘promise I just wanna walk. Get air.’

God, why are your fucking hands shaking he just wants to walk. He just wants to walk. Why can’t you bring yourself to believe people when they say that anymore?

Everything’s normal. It’s been a good six days for Carm, you know that it’s been a good six days. Everything's normal. You’ve kept a puzzle streak every morning, you’ve called him some nights, he’s called you some nights. He’s had a good week. He told you so. Everything's normal. You’ve vaguely flirted in that extremely sexual yet completely nonsensical way new situationships do, via text. People don’t do that when they’re on the brink of death, right? Everything's normal. Stop playing with your pendant. Relax. Put a shirt on. Stop being so fucking paranoid. Stop typing—!

‘can you do me a favour’

‘anything’

‘can you turn your location on for me’

‘not to be invasive. You can turn it off when you get here, I—’

Before you can even finish typing your explanation, let alone send it, he sends his location, trackable. He’s already walking.

‘be there in 18.’

You watch, with bated breath, his little contact photo bubble marching across Chicago to you. You make yourself mildly presentable and make hot chocolate on the stove—Gotta use milk, for Carmen— For when he comes to you, out of the cold. Because he’s going to come to you. He’s gonna be here. He’s gonna be here. You know that because you’ve been keeping your phone screen open and only look away to ensure you don’t pour milk on your stovetop and to blink.

He's here in eighteen minutes. You think if you had a stop watch going on, it’d be down to the millisecond. You open the door for him, before he can even knock. You watched his bubble walk up to your door. No point in waiting. You need to see him.

He’s breathing heavy. Held tight in his fist is a bundle of flowers— Importantly, not a bouquet, a bundle of flowers—Like, roots still on a few, visibly yanked out of the ground. Though seemingly from different gardens, since there's quite a variety. He looks at you, then down at the flowers, then back to you.

“I— I stole these.”

“Had a feeling.” You wave your hand for him to come inside, he does. “Are you okay?”

His steps falter, he seems downtrodden. You take the flowers, and then take his hand. He hesitates to speak, but he’s really trying to say fucking something. You squeeze his hand, it seems to help.

“I—” He swallows the spit caught in his throat. “I didn’t know— I— No. No, I did know— I knew the one place I had to come was, here. Had to go somewhere.”

You nod, you look over him. Silently doing a wellness check. You’re panicked. You’re so panicked. But he can’t know that. This is about him. You’re the one that takes care of people. He’s clean. He smells like Old Spice and you. He’s a little cold from the walk, he didn’t wear a jacket, but he’s warming up fast. He looks tired but not exhausted, which, for Carmy, is kind of as good as you’re going to get. He didn’t have the energy for a phone call, but he had the energy to come over and talk to your face; his social battery is wonky, but that’ll fix with time here. Is he hungry? That’s hard to tell on looks alone.

“You wanna talk about it, Bear?”

He nods, head down. Can’t look at you. You gently pull at his hand for him to follow you into the kitchen. “Made hot chocolate. You a marshmallow or whipped cream guy?”

His eyes are glassy, and his mood itself doesn’t change, but he does swiftly lift his head up to look at you with an incredulous, curious half smile. “You don’t do both?”

“I find it gets a lil’ busy. But I like the tiny marshmallows that come with the mix with whipped cream—”

“You gotta do actual cocoa.”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t like my hot chocolate to actually be rich. I want sweet.”

“You’re breaking my heart.”

“Good thing I’m a repairman, then.” You deadpan. He does actually seem to glow a little bit, at that. You repeat, hand full of flowers resting on your hip. “So both?”

“Both.”

He calms you down so easily, even when really, he was the oncoming stress— Or rather, your perceptions. He clears static for you, without effort. You nod, letting go of his hand— Slowly, withdrawing, like a silent promise that you will be back. You grab a paper towel and wrap the flowers in them, setting them down on the counter. You’ll plant them later. Honestly, kind of a better gift for you and your green thumb than a bouquet would be.

You turn to your oven to stir the pot of hot chocolate— Can’t have any fuckin’ clumps for Mr Michelin over here. Speaking of Michelin, he sidles up behind you and puts his head on your shoulder, hands hovering as if he’s going to hug your waist but simply cannot bring himself to.

He mumbles into your shoulder. “I lit my oven on fire.”

Ah. The oven was his fault. That's what he meant. When you pause and try to turn, that’s when he hugs you, holding you in place. “Please don’t look ‘t me.”

You take a deep breath, and continue to stir the pot. “Okay. I’m listening, not looking.”

“I did— I did it in my sleep. Not the first time. I think, I think they’re night terrors? But I don’t, don’t scream or nothin’— I don’t say shit actually. I don’t think.”

God, he’s insecure, even now, about how crazy you’ll think he is. Like telling your therapist everything that’s wrong with you except for the stuff that they might hospitalize you for. God, does he treat you like a fucking therapist? He’s awful. He’s awful for you. He’s awful for anyone. It doesn’t matter that you’re different— The common denominator is him. He’s a fucking piece of shit—

“I wake up screaming sometimes.” You reply, so softly. You feel his short nails dig into your sides just slightly for a second as he remembers where he is. He’s over your shoulder. No one’s over his. “Happens to the worst of us.”

You grab two mugs from the cupboard— Reaching with the arm he’s not leaning on. “Did you put it out or should I be calling my former C-F-D crew?”

“I put it out.” He notes your mugs. They’re mismatching. One is definitely handmade with messy floral patterns, the other a tourist trap Chicago mug. They’re perfect. “I—I was cooking something, in my sleep— And then— Then the fire starts.”

You ladle the hot chocolate into the mugs— Usually you’d just pour it straight but you don’t want Carmen to watch you inevitably spill half of it on your counters. You nod, “Do you dream that you’re cooking?”

“K-Kinda? I’m not cooking, I’m the Head, the expediter— And, and my Exec is over my fucking shoulder and he’s— Just in my head.” He swallows, thinking of how to explain without explaining. “And then I wake up, and there’s a fire, and I watch it grow, and I think about what it would mean if I just let it, and how I’d want it to.”

“And then you put it out?”

“And then I put it out.”

“Do you wish you didn’t?”

“I don’t know. And it’s fucking with me. ‘Cause— ‘Cause things are really good right now.” You tense under him, and he knows it’s because you don’t believe him. “They are, they really really are. Sug bein’ away is… not easy, but, it’s, it’s okay—”

“Carm.” Your tone is so accusatory.

“It’s the same nightmare it used to be.” He doesn’t hesitate to correct as soon as you question it. He cannot lie to you. For one, you see right through him. For two, it’s you. You’d rather know he’s insane. For some reason. “It’s been hard. I— I know fuck all, about business, and, and we can’t afford to hire a fuckin’ replacement right now because we owe so much fucking money or the whole thing caves— But it’s— It’s been good.”

You grab a handful of mini marshmallows, splitting them between the two mugs. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nods into your shoulder. “Everyone is… happy, right now. It’s not always fuckin’ breezy but— Everyone’s, everyone’s okay. And I have somethin’ I can actually be proud of, right now. And I have— I — You’re around. N’ that, that has been good. For everyone.”

You hum. Heart full, at that. You awkwardly shift to your fridge, waddling like a penguin instead of turning, as not to disturb Carmen, he chuckles against your shoulder. “You can tell me to fuck off, y’know.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to.” You hug his arm to you. This makes him squeeze just a little tighter. You pull out a half-empty can of Reddi-Wip, shaking it violently, as instructed. “Say when.”

You hover the can over the tourist mug, he shakes his head. “Other one.”

He wants the handmade one. Your fingerprints are grooved into the handle. You ignore how insane this makes you feel, and spray whipped cream into the handmade mug. You’re waiting for him to say when.

It’s getting to a concerningly tall pile, at this point. You feel him swallow. He finally says the quiet thought out loud.

“I think I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Even in my sleep, I know it’s coming.”

You nod, you stop spraying. You think on it for a beat. You opt to be honest. “I am, too.” You nod. “I am, too.”

“What’d’you think it’s gonna be?”

You feel your neck flare red and hot, guilty. Horrifically guilty. Lifesaver. You spray whipped cream into your own mug. You don’t really want both whipped cream and marshmallows, but it’s a good way to disguise how shaky your hands are. You take a deep breath.

“Think you’re gonna realize I’m not as good as you think I am.”

He kind of, tugs at you, pulling you closer to him, as if to rebuke thee. “You’re very good, Tony.”

You just hum in reply, once again, the pile of whip cream grows— It sputters, and basically nothing is coming out, but you can’t bring yourself to move, so it continues to struggle. He lets you do this, for a moment, before softly, questioningly speaking your name.

You just hum, again. Everything’s fine. Everything’s normal. This isn’t even about you, this is about him. “I’m good.”

“You are.” He declares, like it’s law. He grabs the empty can from you hand and puts it on the counter, then turns you around to face him. You keep your head down, there’s every chance you throw up and die if you— “Look at me.”

“I know—” He does not give you the chance to excuse yourself, he grabs your chin, softly, but still, forces you to look at him.

“You’re very good.” Too much eye contact. Too close. Too sincere. Too much— “Too good, too good for anyone.”

Too good for him. You, of course, don’t think that. But that’s exactly why you’re too good. “I’m not gonna change my mind ‘bout that.”

“…Hope so.”

Carmen can see it, now. The way your jaw clenches, how you’re looking past him, not at him. The way you mirror how he imagines he looked in the walk-in, to you. He decides to take a page out of your book, and hugs you close. “Know so.”

Your chin hooks over his shoulder. You stare down the hall of your apartment, brain somewhere else. He stares over your shoulder at the hot chocolates, whipped cream slowly melting and overflowing onto the counters.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, and you can’t help but smile at the ridiculousness of it.

“I—It’s not—This about you, not me—”

“It’s both. It can be both.” The shared burden.

You sigh, putting your arms around his shoulders. “…I’ll talk about it eventually, I promise. Just not… Ready—Right now.” You’re not ready to risk him no longer liking you. You need a little more time to be selfishly avoidant. “Eventually, though.”

He nods. He gets it. He does it.

“How do you think the other shoe’s gonna drop? If it does?”

This was the exact question he didn’t want, but you answered it, kind of, and that means he has to answer it, kind of. He relaxes his hold on you. “Think you’re gonna see me when I’m— When I’m not me— When I’m— I’m like, like my fuckin’ family.”

When he’s angry. When he yells. When he’s mean. When his crises don’t take the form of hibernation. When he’s frightening.

“Think once you realize, you’ll leave, and it’ll all leave with you.”

When he said that everyone’s happy at The Bear, he knows it’s because you’re back in the atmosphere. You bring a lightness that he never could, that he always envied in his brother. He honestly needs to break something at The Bear to get you to come in soon, because it’s been two weeks since you made everyone coffee, and your presence is only finally starting to wain in power. He really needs to start paying himself so you can get on bar.

“I don’t love being yelled at, certainly.”

You know what acting like his family means. Mikey used to do it. When things got bad. And while you got better and better at being understanding, still never managed to keep yourself from tearing up. “But it’s nothing that would make me leave. Nothing that’s not worth it.”

Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ. His bad side, his anger, his violence, his teeth, the parts of his functionality that he hates, you consider worth dealing with, for the sake of the rest of him.

It reminds him, of a question that’s been on his mind for a while now. His chin digs into your shoulder, a little bit. He swallows.

“Do you really not think taking care of people is a lot of work?”

You frown, thinking about it. It is a lot of work. It’s exhausting work, rotten work, to take care of people.

“It is a lot of work.” You tilt your head, kiss his clothed shoulder. “But it’s just pure instinct, to do. “I care therefore I care, or somethin’.”

“What a poet.”

“Fuck off.”

You both laugh; then comfortable silence. He’s the first to break it. “You’re good.”

“We’re both good.” You pull back to look at him. Nothing has truly been resolved, and yet he looks more at peace. Thank, God. You’re doing a good job. You’re not failing again. “You wanna go drink these barely warm hot chocolates in my bed and pass out?”

“Please.”

Carmen never turns off his location, and he never will. He doesn't ask why you want it. He takes advantage of the whipped cream on your nose and the severe lack of napkins in your bedroom when he can. He replaces the Cubs jersey wearing bear in your arms, that night. He hopes he will forever, he's pretty sure he won't.

In five days, this Friday will be the worst Friday of your lives.

But neither of you know that yet. The painting is still not finished, he hasn’t yelled at anyone around you yet, Carmen still doesn’t know about the necklace you’ve tucked under your shirt every day for the past year.

The other shoe still hangs in the air; but not in your bed.

You pray it’s fall will not wake the bear.

FUCK bro.

It was tough writing in a way that was coherently incoherent. Like, neither of these two want to talk about their problems, so they are vague, but I know what the fuck is going on-- And hopefully you kindddaaa get what's going on?? There's still a little mystery I'm holding on for myself, hehehe. I'm very curious if anyone has theories by now tbh. What's this hidden part of Tony's life!!! They're usually so open!!! So what's this shit!!!

I cut out like a WHOLE 300 words of them doin' a smooch because it just made no fuckin' sense. They're both in emotional hell, couldn't force it, even if I wanted it. But there was the cuddlin' and nose kissin' in bed. So I think that's a good caveat.

But the most insane part of this chapter for me, and you'll see later, THIS chapter and the next,,,,, 3 chapters? Were all gonna be ONE. I know. Nuts. I was essentially gonna format it like all snippets of this one week, because as we know, Fridays gonna be the worst friday! But I realized like a quarter way through writing this one, that it simply couldn't just be a snippet. It needed to breath as it's own full thing. As did the next 3 chaps. I think they'll be a lot more digestable this way and also it won't force me to hole away for a fuckin month writing it without giving you a single morsel of content.

Anyways, tell me what the fuck you THOUGHT!! I'm excited to hear thoughts, hopefully all good ones~~~

Next Part

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x female reader #carmen berzatto x oc #carmy the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fanfiction #the bear fx #the bear x reader #the bear

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hb-writes · 4 months ago

Text

Drunk Shakespeare

Summary: It’s Summer 1925 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. Isiah and Clara decide to end their work day early to escape the heat of the betting shop, but find the heat in the air between them is harder to escape than they thought.

Characters: Clara Shelby x Isiah Jesus, Finn Shelby pops in for a moment.

Prompt: Almost caught

Content Warnings: Just vibes and a little kissing.

Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

Clara watched the long hand of her brother's old pocket watch as it moved around the clock face, the quiet ticks and tocks seeming to mock her as they seemed to slow and delay in her mind.

After what had seemed like an eternity squashed into a mere morning and early afternoon, she was basically caught up on the books. Or at least, if she wasn't precisely caught up, Clara wasn't feeling particularly motivated to keep working on them. Not that she'd been doing anything that could really be considered ‘work’ for the last hour and a half.

Shoving the pocketwatch away, she glanced at Isiah. He was across the room in Finn’s office, twirling a pencil in his fingers. Clara wasn't sure what he was meant to be ‘working’ on in her brother's office, but she assumed pencil twirling wasn't it.

It had been a slow afternoon. No one had been keen on laying bets or working, so the shop had emptied early. Everyone had finished up their day's work and gone home.

In this heat, Clara didn't blame them. Despite the mound of work she had to complete for her brother, she didn't want to be here either.

Clara had already shed her sweater. She couldn't respectably lose any more layers or she'd be left in just her slip, but she longed for it. She longed for a breeze or dip in one of the ponds on the grounds of Arrow House. She longed for a chunk of ice from the ice box in the kitchen. She longed for the end of this Friday afternoon, the end to this stale, sticky existence.

Clara pushed herself back from the desk—Tommy's desk, though he never used it anymore. The chair was more hers than his these days. Tommy had once said it could be Clara’s one day—the boss's chair—but even though it was her who sat in it more than him, Clara wasn't the boss. Today, she felt no better than any other working person staring at the clock and waiting for the end of their shift. It seemed that was all she’d done all day.

She'd have to come back and finish what she hadn’t accomplished before the end of the month—over the weekend or early before she was due at the Jamaica Row office on Monday morning. It wasn't smart putting it off, but Clara didn't care. The heat had zapped any sense of caring from her system, leeching all of the diligent conscientiousness she was known for straight out of her.

"What are the odds we get caught out if we lock up early?”

Isiah's foot fell off the desk and slammed against the floor, Clara's sudden presence in the room startling him more than it should have considering a wall of windows lined the office and he’d faced that way, his glossy gaze set out toward the empty shop she crossed over on her way to get to him.

"Christ, Clara—Trying to stop my fucking heart, eh?"

Clara sighed, rolling her eyes at Isiah’s dramatics out of nothing more than habit. The whole bit was familiar. He usually would have wrapped her head in an arm, ruffling her hair as retribution, but today he barely moved, barely even allowed the muscles of his mouth to pull into a smirk.

Clara was glad for it because if Isiah laid a hand on her, Clara thought she might scream. The idea of him coming anywhere near her in this heat, of his warm hand in her already frizzy hair…she felt warmer just thinking about it.

"The only thing I'm trying to do is stop working."

"You're finished?”

Clara shrugged. She didn't have it in her to lie, but she didn’t quite want to admit she’d been doing close to nothing all day either. "Are you?'

"I've been done for hours."

"What are you sitting in here for, then?"

She could see that she wasn't the only warm one. Isiah had rolled his shirt sleeves. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She couldn't imagine why he'd choose to sit here when he could be anywhere else.

Isiah raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

"Fucking hell. You’re babysitting. Tommy's such a—"

“Finn," Isiah interrupted.

"What?"

"It was Finn’s idea. Said 'I've got a meeting across town. Keep an eye on her.’ Not Tom."

Clara hummed, filing that annoying development away to complain about later. For today it was an order from Finn’s mouth, but before Finn, it had been John, and before that, she knew the order had originated with Tommy and Arthur. Tommy, who Isiah no routinely called 'Tom' and defended, as if they were friends. On the same side of things. Clara let the thought go, too hot for the annoyance that came with thinking too hard on her brothers.

"Where'd Finn go, anyway?'

"Meeting across town," Isiah answered, repeating the words with a smirk.

Clara breathed deeply, stifling the urge to hit him. She could imagine herself doing it, the satisfaction of her open palm—all clammy and swollen with the heavy moisture of the air—smacking against Isiah’s stupid, sweaty forehead.

“I just said.” Isiah added, stupid grin still on his face. “The heat getting to you, there, Miss Shelby?”

It was hotter in Finn's office than it was in Tommy's. There were no windows to the outside here, no airflow. Clara pulled at her dress, the fabric sticking to her collarbone as she tried to catch some relief.

“I meant who’s he with?”

Isiah shrugged. “Afraid that's above my pay grade. Can’t be asking after the boss’s whereabouts now, can I, love?”

Clara rolled her eyes. Finn wasn’t any sort of boss, not really, even if he was acting like it lately. And the amount of things that fell above Isiah's pay grade had dwindled over the last few years. She was nearly certain Isiah knew exactly who Finn was meeting with and what it was about, but she let it go, figuring that if it was important or relevant to her, he'd have just told her. The fact that he was playing with her told her it wasn't either of those things.

“Fine. Tell me, love, does the 'boss' have anything good in that drawer there?” Clara nodded toward the desk and Isiah shook his head, chuckling.

“What are you shaking your head for? What’s he going to do?” she asked. “Fire us for borrowing his whiskey and skiving off?”

“Tom—”

“I don’t care what Tommy or Arthur or John or Finn has said. It’s hot and there’s no reason for us to be cooped up here. I’ll take my chances with the lot of them.” Clara reached down, pulling out the bottle of whiskey. She opened it and took a slug before she handed the bottle to Isiah. After he drank, Clara held a hand out to him.

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the hand they both knew was clammy and damp with sweat. Clara ran her hand down the side of her dress before presenting it again.

Isiah rolled his eyes as he slipped his hand into hers and Clara groaned, dropping his slicked hand in an instant. Isiah smirked as he ran his hand down the side of her skirts same as Clara had just done. No other man would’ve dared to slide his hand down Clara Shelby’s side like that, but this was Isiah and they were alone in the shop—no prying eyes to watch over them for a change.

“You’re insufferable.”

Isiah chuckled. “You’ve said so plenty enough.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Well, between you and me, it’s mutual.”

Clara yanked his hand then, pulling him out of the chair and to his feet. Isiah stumbled for her benefit.

“You’re testy today.”

“I’m hot,” Clara answered, walking towards the staircase. She tugged Isiah along up the first few steps, her arm straining as Isiah stopped on the third step from the bottom.

“And we’re going to the second floor to cool off?”

Clara took a deep breath before stopping and turning back to Isiah.

“We’re all locked up?”

Isiah nodded. He'd gone around to check all of the doors after Finn headed out. “Have been for hours.”

“Good, now shut up and do what you're told.”

Isiah snorted. “Yes, ma’am.”

Clara smirked at that. At least someone respected her. Even if it was just Isiah, and even if he was only playing, the telltale smile tugging at his lips, a bit of glee right there dancing in his eyes. Because even with those things present, Clara knew some part of it was genuine. Isiah respected her more than most people in her life. Believed in her more than most, too. And he had always offered up a bit of his power in the context of their relationship, allowing her to win on most things.

Not every single thing, but most.

Enough of the time that Clara knew when he was doing it.

As they moved up the stairs, the heat wrapped around them like a blanket. Someone had shut all of the windows, the air up there even more stale than it had been down in the shop.

Clara had a moment of doubt while the stifling heat grew, smothering them both and challenging Clara's breathing. Sweat collected on her back and chest under her clothes. She cursed in her head that maybe Isiah was right. Maybe there was no relief to be found on this Friday afternoon, not unless she wanted to give in and head out to her brother's house.

But Clara didn’t want to. If she did, Tommy would have questions about the books and whether or not she’d caught up yet. She didn’t have it in her to try to lie to him. If she was being honest, she didn’t have it in her for much of anything except simply being.

Walking the stairs of her childhood home with Isiah’s hand growing sweaty in hers, Clara was reminded of simpler days. Of times when she’d been just allowed to be. Even then, she’d been an anxious child. Overwhelmed and feeling like she was pulled in a million different ways, but looking back on it now, Clara was nostalgic for a certain freedom inherent to childhood. A certain freedom that came with not fully understanding the actions and motivations of the adults surrounding her.

She had always sought to understand, had always wanted to be a part of things, and now that she was—now that she and Isiah both were thoroughly integrated parts of the things they’d once begged to be included in—Clara would give anything for the two of them to go back to before.

To be reading together from a book, or pretending to be Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. To be just two kids in their own little bubble, just the two of them against the world. It was a lovely thought, accompanied by a lovely feeling of nostalgia and as they stepped onto the second floor—just the two of them there within the walls of number 6 Watery Lane—Clara thought maybe it could still be the case.

The times were less frequent these days, but there were still moments when Clara would catch Isiah's gaze across the room, the two of them immediately caught up in some secret conversation that no one else even knew was taking place.

And sometimes, the two of them would dance, and as Isiah spun Clara around, she could’ve sworn there was no one else in the world. On those occasions, it was as if the music played of its own accord, no one needed to pull the strings or croon the melodies, the two of them feeling anonymous and alone even though they were surrounded by other couples.

“Come on, Siah,” Clara said as she tugged Isiah’s hand, some part of her certain that she could reach out and grasp that feeling, as if it was something she could trap and hold onto, keeping it close to her heart.

Isiah smiled at Clara’s impatience, his body so near to hers that he could feel the heat radiating off her back, a warmth separate from that of the air around them, almost pulsing between them.

Clara dropped his hand as she stepped into her bedroom, still neat and tidy and kept as if the 12-year-old girl she once was still lived there. As she moved toward the window, Clara pressed the whiskey bottle into Isiah’s hand, not bothering to look back to confirm it was within his grasp before she let go.

Isiah leaned against her dresser, watching as she struggled with the window, the wooden frame stiff and swollen and thoroughly stuck from the heat and years of disuse.

As he watched, Isiah wondered...when was the last time Clara Shelby had climbed out through her bedroom window? When was the last time Isiah Jesus had climbed out with her?

Neither of them could remember, and it seemed like the room had forgotten as well, the window remaining belligerently shut even as Clara dug in her heels and leveraged all of her strength in trying to raise the pane, a new layer of sweat gleaming at her hairline as she struggled.

“Alright,” Isiah started as he eased off the dresser, the whiskey bottle set aside. “Let me—”

“No!” Clara answered, her voice booming with the strength of her struggle as she kicked a leg out in Isiah’s general direction to keep him back. “I’ll get it. You choose a book.”

Clara sent her foot out again, this time directing it toward the other side of the room, and Isiah turned to follow the direction of her kick, straight to the chair beside her bed where a stack of books sat piled dangerously high.

The pile was a mix of old and new, a selection of books from her childhood and few of her more recent favorites interspersed with a few of the books Isiah remembered as coming from Tommy’s shelf. Those books had once been forbidden to Clara, but Isiah supposed they were far beyond forbidden books at this stage. And Tommy Shelby had far bigger concerns than what types of books his sister was reading.

Isiah fished a book out of the pile before returning his attention to Clara. He was about to sit down on her bed to watch the show of her struggle when the window flew open, the sudden movement accompanied by a rush of air and a celebratory shout from Clara.

“I told you I would get it,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow as she turned to him.

Isiah rolled his eyes fondly and crossed the room to grab the whiskey, a swallowed comment on the tip of his tongue because even though Isiah and Clara usually passed quips back and forth, he was more interested in getting out on the roof, more interested in the reprieve of fresh air. Isiah pressed the book and bottle into Clara's hands before swinging himself out through the window.

Isiah was through in a small span of seconds, but it was certainly a more difficult maneuver than he remembered now that his body was all long limbs and the window seemed infinitely smaller than it once was.

Reaching back through the frame, he took the book and the bottle Clara handed off. Isiah set them both aside before holding his hand out back through the open window.

“I can—”

“Just let me help, won’t you?” Isiah interrupted. He wiped his hand down the front of his pants before holding it out again. “Gotta fight me about everything.”

“I’m not—” Clara grasped his hand, allowing Isiah to tug her through, and letting go once she was steady on her feet. “—fighting. I just—”

“Can do it yourself,” Isiah answered. “I know. Doesn’t mean you should always have to.”

Clara huffed even though a part of her appreciated the sentiment. She tried to be independent. She tried to do everything for herself. She tried to prove how smart and strong and capable she was to just about everyone, but she didn’t have to prove any of that to Isiah.

Clara unbuttoned the top of her dress, gently fanning herself with the loose fabric as she looked over the courtyard. She took a deep breath, grateful for the grey and cloudy Birmingham skies that shielded them from the heady rays of sun she usually craved.

The roof outside of her bedroom wasn’t exactly the reprieve she had imagined, but it was marginally better than the dense staleness of the shop and her bedroom.

“Romeo and Juliet?” Clara asked as she lowered herself to the roof and reached for the book. “Really, Isiah?”

While Clara enjoyed her Shakespeare, the play hadn’t exactly been her favorite, and her memories of the piece were tainted by the fact that she’d first read it at school, with Juliet’s role going to a girl she wasn’t particularly fond of. Clara would’ve preferred to revisit Sherlock Holmes or one of Tommy’s old books.

Isiah shrugged and sat down beside her, reaching for the bottle. “Reminded me of when you tried stepping out with that Italian kid.”

He said it as if he didn’t remember the name of the ‘Italian kid.' As if it had been nothing but a blip. As if her social connections hadn’t gotten her into nothing but trouble that year and been the source of arguments between her and her family, and her and Isiah.

Clara shoved Isiah’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t stepping out with anyone.”

It had been a friendship. Maybe with a hint of a crush, but there had been no stepping out. Nothing close. Her brothers' reputation had seen to that.

“And anyway, it’s more like when you were stepping out with that Cheapie girl.”

Isiah raised an eyebrow. “What are you on about?”

“Ruth,” Clara answered. “Practically Wally Bartow in a dress.”

He snorted. “It was one dance, Clara. Didn’t even know her name. Had no clue she was a Bartow.”

Clara shrugged. “You looked awfully cozy if I remember properly.”

“Well, that’s just how I dance, love.” Isiah winked at her before taking a swig from the bottle. “You know that better than anyone.

“And I'm sorry to inform you, but if either of us is destined to have a love life like these two—” Isiah nodded towards the book. “—it’s you. No matter who you end up with, it’ll be like Montagues and Capulets. Shelbys against whatever poor sap you choose.”

Isiah knocked her shoulder, the touch telling her it was only a joke. Clara stayed leaning against him as long as she could manage in the heat before prying the bottle from his fingers to take a sip.

“Ada says us Shelby girls are cursed that way.”

Isiah reached for the book, thumbing through the pages rather than answering. He had an idea about that particular curse. He had been old enough to remember how Ada’s marriage had been handled, and even if he hadn’t been, Isiah knew how Clara was being managed.

How they both had been managed for years now.

Isiah reached out for the bottle, taking another swig before he started reading.

“Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene…”

They passed a few hours reading and talking and sipping from the bottle, the pair moving on to gentle conversation interspersed with quotes from Shakespeare’s catalog once the pages became too difficult to read in the dimming light. Lost in the throes of conversation, easy laughter and the cooling night breeze, Isiah and Clara were suspended in what felt like a world that was just their own, their sense of time and place and awareness pushed aside.

Clara was giggling at some obscure quote Isiah had pulled seemingly out of nowhere when Isiah sensed suddenly that the world was no longer theirs alone, his attention gone to the far end of the shared courtyard, a familiar chorus of boisterous laughter reaching his ear from across the space.

Isiah was faintly aware of Clara naming the play he’d quoted before she shared her next quote, a gentle laughter lacing her words as she spoke, but the awareness of his heart pounding against his chest was stronger, a sudden urge to quiet her—to shield their presence there on the roof—taking over.

Overcome with that urge, Isiah could’ve shushed her or set his hand over her mouth to stifle the words.

Or he could've taken a breath and calmed himself and simply let her finish.

It wasn't as if they were doing anything wrong. There was no reason to hide.

Isiah could have let Clara tell him, ‘I do desire we may be better strangers,’ before dissolving into giggles. He could’ve then told her the quote was from ‘As You Like It,’ a quote which he was intimately familiar with because Clara had directed it at him and Finn a number of times before, sometimes in jest, sometimes because she wished to hurt them.

No one would question Isiah and Clara being out on the roof with a book and a bottle of whiskey, least of all Finn. People were plenty used to their antics, but something felt different tonight so Isiah only let Clara get half a sentence out before he placed his hand at the back of her head, drawing her in close and pressing his lips to hers in the dark, catching her words and quieting her so efficiently that it was nearly silent on the roof as Finn and the junior Peaky Boys passed over the back threshold of no. 6.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but Isiah felt Clara’s whole body relax within his touch. She leaned into the hand he cradled behind her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss he hadn’t intended on giving in the first place, her hands reaching out for him, her fingernails grazing his scalp in a way that sent shivers down his spine.

Isiah pulled away, but even so, for a moment, he forgot where he was. He forgot why he’d kissed her, or at least he’d forgotten whatever justification he’d initially provided himself for pressing his lips to hers. He forgot about Finn and the boys. He forgot about Shakespeare and feuds and consequences. With his warm hand still on the back of Clara’s sweaty neck, barely able to see the details of her now flushed face, it was once again just the two of them there in the world.

With their faces still so close that Clara could feel Isiah’s warm whiskey-tinged breath on her face, her eyes shifted to his lips. She couldn’t remember what they were talking about before. She didn’t know why he’d kissed her. She had heard the back door slam, some part of her aware of her twin's proximity, an awareness Aunt Polly had always tol her was part of her gifts, but as Clara pulled Isiah's lips back to hers, she found she didn’t care to remember there was more to the world than the two of them and this.

She didn’t want to question it, and yet, Clara was first to pull away this time, her ears far more sensitive to the familiar sound of someone turning the handle of her childhood bedroom’s door than Isiah was. With a sudden swiftness, she removed herself from Isiah’s hold and pushed him back against the roof as she extended her hand up to the sky.

“There you are,” Finn said, sticking his head out the open window to see what Clara was pointing at. "What are the two of you out here for?"

Clara tilted her head back to her brother. “Constellations and Shakespeare. Would you like to join us?” she asked, the words feeling odd to her as they passed through her swollen lips.

“No,” Finn snorted. “It's payday. We’re heading to the Garrison, and then maybe to a few other—”

“No, thank you. I'm staying here,” Clara answered, even though it wasn’t exactly an invite Finn had extended, but more of a declaration. An order.

A flash of something passed over Finn’s face. Clara could barely see it in the dark, but she figured it was a bit of annoyance, maybe, or a touch of shock at being refused. It seemed like more and more, Finn was coming to expect the same sort of compliance from Clara that the others did, forgetting that it was mere minutes that separated their births rather than years.

“It’s too hot, Finn,” Clara added, her tone a bit softer. “I have no desire to be holed up in the snug, squashed between you lot.”

“Alright, then. Isiah?” Finn tried.

“She’s got a point, mate.”

Clara heard someone shouting from the floor below, the details muffled by the shut door, but Finn seemed to recognize their meaning well enough.

"Are you sure?" Clara sensed the question was for Isiah even though they could barely see each other's faces in the growing dark. "Drinks are on Shelby Company Ltd. tonight," Finn added, as if Isiah's drinks weren't usually on the house, anyway.

"It's alright. You go ahead with the boys," Isiah offered. "I'll keep an eye on Clara."

Clara's elbow twitched, the desire to ram it into Isiah's ribcage surging as she caught the hint of a smirk on Isiah's face, but Clara stopped herself knowing that it had been the right thing to say.

Finn nodded his understanding in the dark, his attention pulled to the stairs once again by a sudden noise.

"Don't fall asleep out there, Clara."

Clara heaved a breath to stop herself from telling him he had no business telling her where she could or couldn't fall asleep, but Isiah beat her to it, telling Finn he would handle it.

No matter that Finn would likely be the one who needed assistance finding his bed before the night was through...

"Have a good night," Finn said as he stepped away from the window, leaving Isiah and Clara alone. They leaned back against the roof, the two of them staring at the sky in silence as they listened to the sounds of Finn and the boys heading out through the back door, their shouting and laughter echoing as they traversed the shared courtyard.

When the echoes died away, Clara stretched out her fingers, seeking the familiar roughness of Isiah’s palm.

“That was bad,” Isiah said, his fingers closing around hers. “Close...we almost got caught.”

Clara heaved a breath before turning to face him. “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”

Isiah snorted. He glanced briefly to his right to meet Clara's gaze in the dark before tipping his head back to the sky.

"Hamlet," Isiah answered softly, squeezing her hand gently before releasing her fingers.

They had been through this time and time again, the two of them dancing around the label of what they were. Friends. Best friends. Something more. They had settled on friends as far as most of the world was concerned, but that didn’t mean the lines weren’t still blurry at times, their belligerent feelings tangled and confused and persistent. For years now, they had maintained a mostly unspoken agreement that they’d keep anything beyond friendship hidden—from themselves, from one another, from everyone else.

Most especially from everyone else.

They'd learned early on that it wasn't worth the strife. It wasn't worth the fight. Any resistance had been squashed down time and again. Somehow, this felt easier. Less painful.

If it was up to the two of them, perhaps things would be different. Perhaps they’d have tried at love and failed, and moved on by now. Or perhaps they would have tried and it would have been easy. Smooth.

Perhaps there would be no confusion or jealousy or hiding. No dismissing their closeness as nothing more than echo of a childhood friendship, no stinging comments on who the other had stepped out with—the slights used both as a weapon and a protection to guard their tender hearts.

But as it was, Clara and Isiah had never been given a proper chance at something more. A boundary had been set for them at the outset, a series of orders they’d both been too young to fight at the time. They’d been at the mercy of the powers that be, and even though they were older now, they were still at the mercy of that power.

Or maybe they still danced around the boundary because it felt easier, somehow safer for them both to keep that prescribed distance between them.

“Perhaps I am destined for tragedy, Isiah.” Clara mused. “Or simply to be alone. Unloved for eternity.”

“You’re not alone, love.” Isiah reached for the hand he’d dropped only moments before. “I’m right here.”

“And you know I love you," he added as Clara curled toward him, resting her head against his chest.

Clara sighed and nodded.

“I love you, too,” she added, and Isiah’s chest fell with the breath he’d been holding.

“Can we not just pretend that’s enough?” Clara asked. “Just for tonight?”

They were dangerous questions and Clara asked them without turning to observe Isiah’s face. She could feel the tenseness of his body beneath her, the fear her questions provoked.

“Like it’s just us in the world and no one else?” she tried, a question and a wish because the house was empty and the roof was dark and it was unlikely they’d be caught.

Isiah feared that a little, but more than he feared getting caught—for they’d successfully explained away so much over the years and he had no doubt they could manage it again—Isiah feared the two of them getting caught up in things. He feared getting caught up in the true feelings between them, the ones they’d so carefully worked to keep a hold on all of these years, a carefully manicured relationship that allowed them to be close, but not so close that they fell over the edge.

For even though Isiah dated other girls, and even though Clara insisted that Isiah Jesus was just a friend, they both knew there was something more between them. A magnetic pull, something in their hearts that they both knew to be true love.

In the moments when the two of them could be honest with each other, when the rest of the world fell away...on nights like tonight, it wasn’t especially unusual for their lips to meet. It wasn’t unusual for Clara’s hopelessly romantic naïveté to make a showing. For some part of her to feel that it could be easy. That it could work.

And it wasn’t unusual for Isiah to agree. For every part of him to want the very thing they spent the bulk of their days denying and shutting down.

They were both craving it now though, both barely able to remember why they ever did hold back. It was just the two of them there on the roof beneath a blanket of smog-covered stars, both of them still hazy around the edges due to the whiskey and the heat and the memory of their kiss, the memory of his hands on the back of her neck.

Those things made it easy to hope. They made it easy to forget.

Because if they were surrounded by friends at the Garrison or out at Arrow House or under the watchful eye of a Blinder, Clara and Isiah wouldn’t even entertain the thought that they could be more than friends. Under those circumstances, they’d be easily convinced that regardless of the feelings between them, it was much too complicated, much too difficult.

“Maybe we should just run away. Find a place in the world where there are stars in the sky and no Shelbys.”

Isiah snorted. “Not even you?”

“Well, just me,” Clara amended. “Just me and you and no one else we've ever met. It could be easy.”

“Maybe,” Isiah hummed, his hand tilting Clara’s face up to his as he spoke. “but the course of true love never did run smooth, Clara Shelby”

“A Midsummer Night’s—” Clara started, only for the rest of the play’s title to be caught up by Isiah’s lips.

They both knew it wasn’t a good idea, dabbling in love when neither was ready to commit to the war it would be. Neither was quite ready for the consequences of them moving beyond friendship, moving against her family’s wishes and decrees, but they let it happen anyway, some piece of their hearts holding on to the hope that someday they wouldn’t be hiding on a rooftop, stealing hungry kisses in the dark.

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#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #isiah jesus #isaiah jesus #isiah jesus x shelby!sister #isaiah jesus x shelby!sister #clara shelby #little lady blinder #shelby!sister #lovefest2024

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octuscle · 6 months ago

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Reorganization of a law student

I am a university student here in Cambridge. My class teacher urged me to study law. He said I had what it takes. I'm the first person in my family to ever graduate from school. No relative has ever even thought about going to university. And if I hadn't gotten the scholarship, I wouldn't have done it either. The stupid thing is that, as an obvious member of the working class, I never fitted in at university. And the scholarship isn't enough to live on either. I thought about taking a job at McDonald's. That's where I meet the people I understand. Even if they think I'm the snob from university now. It's still better than being the working-class proletarian for my fellow students.

Day 1: Monday

What a day it has been. I commenced my new employment at McDonald's. I felt somewhat out of place in my suit, amidst the others in their uniforms. Nevertheless, they appeared to be amicable. However, I found it difficult to comprehend much of their conversation.

The boss incessantly spoke about burgers and fries. I couldn't help but think, "My dear sir, I am well versed in arguing a case; I hardly require a lecture on flipping a burger."

Day 3: Wednesday

I'm gettin' the hang of it, I guess. It's just about flippin' burgers and slingin' fries, ain't it? Not that complicated, eh? So, I meet this dude named Dave, been workin' here forever. He's like a big deal around here, ya know? But man, he talks funny, all Cockney and stuff.

Anyway, Dave's big into bodybuilding and stuff. He's like, "Bro, you gotta hit the gym with me." I might give it a shot, ya know? Need to lose some of this uni weight, man.

Day 5: Friday

So, turns out Dave ain't just into bodybuildin'. Bloke's obsessed with it. He's always talkin' about his protein shakes and them supplements. Keeps tryin' to get me to take some, reckon it'll make me "ripped".

Said yes to goin' to the pub with him tonight. He reckons he knows some places where we can watch the rugby. Never really been into rugby, but why not, eh?

Day 7: Sunday

Last night was mad. Went to the pub with Dave, ended up watchin' rugby and havin' a few pints. Then some bloke started mouthing off, next thing I know, there's a full-on brawl.

Dave was right in the middle of it, throwin' punches like there's no tomorrow. Got a few bruises meself, but it was proper adrenaline rush, I tell ya.

Day 10: Wednesday

Me life's taken a turn, ain't it? Can't believe how much I've changed in just a week. Started takin' them supplements Dave gave me. Dunno what's in 'em, but I feel like I could take on the world.

Been skippin' lectures to hang out with Dave. He's teachin' me all sorts of things about bodybuildin' and rugby. Who knew I'd find it all so interestin'?

Day 14: Sunday

Two weeks in, and I'm a changed man. Used to be all about them fancy words and legal cases. Now, I'm more interested in bench pressin' and pint down the pub.

Me mates from uni are proper shocked when they see me now. But sod 'em, I'm lovin' life. Dave's me new mentor, and I couldn't be happier. Who needs law when you've got burgers, rugby, and a good old pub brawl?

Inspiration by @mchav1020

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chav tf #ai image

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websterss · 4 months ago

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HOW TO BREAK A GIRL'S HEART — TOM HOLLAND

REQUEST: I don’t know if you’re that type of person who takes requests but I had an idea with tom holland where he’s the stereotypical jock and you’re the nerdy girl but here’s the thing you’re also diagnosed with cancer and he keeps bullying you every single day of the week until when he figures out you have cancer then he starts to feel guilty and starts to fall for you, but you try to be sympathetic by saying that it’s not his fault for all of this and etc just a thought by the way.

WARNING(S): Angst, mentions of cancer, fluff at the end, teasing, name-calling, bullying.

WORD COUNT: 19,121 :)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x Sick!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Old repost! Feedback is always welcomed. Also be nice, 16 year old me wrote this, but I gave it more structure lmfao but it was kind of sweet to read some of my old works lol. This was honestly one of the better ones I found.

MASTERLIST

Growing up you had made it your life's mission to try to find a way to get through school. That mission involved trying to make friends and make the best out of everything, which now seemed like a wish you could only dream of. School felt like it never got any easier. Throughout it, you realize who were your true friends and who weren’t at all.

Especially when high school rolled around the corner. You got teased and picked on a lot more. You liked to think it was because you were sick. You had cancer, and as much as you hated it your mom had been hesitant about letting you attend school. She was scared something bad was going to happen. You didn’t have anyone to have your back. You didn’t have many friends.

Unless you counted your mere acquaintances, but you hardly ever spoke to them. You were pretty much alone, and as much as you wanted to believe that you got picked on because you were sick. You were wrong because no one knew. No one knew you were sick and they teased and picked on you because of who you were and how you carried yourself, it had nothing to do with you being sick.

Monday.

You were in front of your locker reading your favorite book, Jane Eyre. Your locker’s door blocked any view of anyone who could come up from your right. You quickly got startled when Tom appeared. He slammed the door against the wall of lockers to your right and then leaned against it.

You bookmarked your page before putting it in your locker face down. Tom’s signature smirk plastered on his lips.

“Oh hi, Tom.” You smiled nervously not knowing why he decided to approach you.

Tom never really approached anyone outside of his inner circle of friends. Being the star quarterback gave him leverage around the school, plus made him quite popular. Everyone knew who he was. So for him to approach you, someone who liked to keep to herself, and was at the bottom of the status level, it was a little surprising. You weren’t sure of what he wanted but you were about to find out.

“Can I help you?”

“I was just curious. Where did you get your sweater?” Tom said as if he was curious.

“My sweater? Oh, my mom bought it for me, it actu-”

Tom raised his hand to stop you. “I wasn’t actually interested, but nice to know mommy’s the one dressing you up for school.” He started laughing.

“Oh um, I–” You sputtered.

“I, uh, eh.” He mocked you. “Is there something wrong? Cat got your tongue sweetheart?”

“Is that all you wanted?” You muttered softly while you played with the hem of your sleeve.

Tom’s gaze lingered on you for a minute before he shot a glance behind your shoulder looking over at his buddies and his girlfriend who were laughing. The laugh was directed at you. They thought of you as a joke.

“Yeah…that’s all.” He brushed whatever he was feeling off and brought himself to let a laugh emit past his lips. His shoulder brushed yours as he began walking away, the contact causing you to fall into the lockers a bit. You followed his retreating form back to his friends. They were already staring at you, what else was new?

You turned back to your locker, grabbed your book, and placed it in your backpack. It wasn’t too long before the bell rang for your next class. Your class was in the direction where Tom and his friends were standing. You began walking, taking one step after another until you were close to them, that’s when you began walking by them faster. As you hurried along, you didn’t notice Tom’s girlfriend extending out her foot, which had you tripping over it in an instant. Your knees hit the ground harshly, the stinging of the pain flowing through your legs. As harsh as your landing was, the rest of the student body laughing at you was much harsher.

“What a joke!” Tom’s girlfriend laughed along with everyone else.

You gathered yourself onto your feet and quickly moved through the hallway away from everyone’s finger-pointing and cackling. Once you reached your class you felt like you could finally breathe again. You gave your focus on what you had been learning that day in class.

Tuesday.

As the next day came around you did your very best to avoid the jocks altogether. Mostly Tom. Who knew the star quarterback was a total jerk? Was jerk even enough to describe him? You shook your head at the thought as you tried to focus your attention back on your book. It was your fathers who passed away before your senior year. It seemed as though the book was the only thing that made him a part of you still. He still was, in your heart at least.

He read you the book every night before bedtime. Now all you could do was read it over and over again. As soon as you were down to the very last word of the page you were on, the book was swiped from your hands. Bringing you back from your inner thoughts you looked up to find

Tom. You looked up from your empty hands. You were never one to make a scene so all you did was sit on the floor there looking at him with furrowed brows.

“C-Can I have my book back please?” You muttered. You started playing with the hem of your sleeve again.

“Why don’t you come and get it.” Tom smirked as he started walking backwards. You looked at him worried. You glanced around noticing everyone in the library was minding their own business. There wasn’t anyone in the aisle you were in.

He wanted you to chase him, and you were under strict instructions from the doctor to not do any physical activities. Running included.

“I-I can’t, please can I just have my book back?” You pleaded softly as you stood up and stepped closer to him only to have him take one step back.

“Fine, you want your book…” Tom lifted his arm and threw it over your head. You turned around quickly. Standing behind you was a buddy of Tom’s with your book in his hands. You were shocked and outnumbered at this point.

“Can I please have my book back?” You stared at Tom’s friend with pleading eyes.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He smiled then threw the book over your head again. Tom caught it while laughing. The two of them continued this childish game of monkey in the middle.

The only thing you could feel and think at that moment was why…Why me?

“Tom please!” You begged this time. “I’ll do whatever you want just please hand it back…please.” You sighed in defeat.

Watching your shoulders slump down, Tom paused. His arm went back down. “Anything?” He asked with a hint of curiosity and something else you couldn’t pinpoint.

“Y-Yes.” You hesitate but answer him.

“Alright…” He smirked as he walked closer to you. “Kiss me.” He smirked cockily. “W-What?” You looked at him startled by his request.

“I’ll give you your book back if you kiss me.” Tom kept smirking.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” You asked, incredulous.

“Don't you want your book back, Y/n?”

“Yes.” Your voice was small.

It was just a kiss, right? No harm no foul.

Tom stood still as you took a step forward and placed your hands on his shoulder. You gulped nervously before leaning in to kiss him. You closed your eyes tightly as you pressed your lips to his slowly. Something inside Tom caused him to flutter his eyes and place his hands on your waist. The kiss only lasted for a minute, but that didn’t help the way Tom felt his stomach do flips.

Tom pulled back first watching the way your eyes were still closed and how your lips looked inviting. You opened your e/c eyes. Yes e/c, that’s what Tom immediately noticed about them. Then his gaze quickly averted behind you to Harrison, who was giving him a questioning look, and the very reason for teasing you came flooding back into his head.

Tom licked his lips and scoffed to play off what just happened. “You’re so easy.” He began laughing and handed you your book.

You grabbed it from his hand and curled it into your chest. “Thanks.” You glanced down at your feet.

“Yeah, whatever.” Tom shook his head and walked off with Harrison.

You slowly stopped at the end of the aisle and peeked to see Tom meet his girlfriend at the entrance of the library with a kiss. You watched him take her hand and head upstairs to the second floor of the library with smirks on their faces.

You sighed as you took your seat on the carpet again and began reading where you left off. This time without any interruptions.

Wednesday.

You were at lunch eating by yourself when Tom’s girlfriend approached you along with her little clique behind her. You were reading your dad’s book when you noticed her. You wanted to do everything you could to make yourself invisible, but the grip on her smoothie was making you anxious.

You placed your bookmark back on the page you were reading and gave her your attention. “Can I help you?” You asked her softly.

“Actually, you can.” Harper sat down in front of you with a smile that screamed trouble.

“O-Okay.”

Awe she’s adorable, Harper thought. “So Sally-” She started.

“It’s Y/n.” You laughed nervously.

“Whatever. Look I know you’re a sweet girl and all, but you sure do lead people on. Making them believe you’re all innocent.” She put her hands together on the table.

“W-What?” You shrunk a little. “What are you talking-” You began but she cut you off.

“Hey Tom, what’s Harper doing with the freak?” Harrison pointed out motioning over Tom’s shoulder.

“What?” Tom furrowed his brows and turned around in his seat. That’s when he saw his girlfriend seated in front of you. His heart dropped a little, but he didn’t let anyone see that. “Who knows…she’s probably helping the poor girl out. She’s got to update that wardrobe of hers. Harper's probably just giving her some pointers, right?” He chuckled bumping shoulders with his buddy on his right.

“You're probably right. That sweater does hide her well. You think she’s got any?” Harrison laughed.

“Got what?” Tom asked.

“You know…” Harrison made a gesture over his chest.

“Harrison, no mate, just no. Quit being a perv you div. Your mother taught you better than that.” Tom shook his head

“I’m just saying…” Harrison raised his hands in surrender.

“-So a little birdy told me about your little stunt in the library. I’m not one to get jealous seeing as there is no one good enough for my Tommy, but I do get mad when little girls like you think you can take our boyfriends.” Harper stared you down.

“No, no, look you got it all wrong. He tricked me, he kissed me first. I would never do that. I’m not like that!” You began rambling already feeling like this whole conversation was going to take a turn.

“That’s the thing though, you all say the same thing before you pounce…” She trailed off before standing up, and right as she turned her back for a second, she said. “Oh yeah, one more thing...” Harper swirled around and threw the smoothie at you. The contents spilling all over you, and your book.

You gasped as you tried wiping the drink away from your eyes. It started stinging and irritating your eyes quickly. You stood up slowly, but even that caused you to slip a little. You finally looked up, and at that moment you wished you hadn’t. Half of the student body was either staring at you or taking a video of you. The rest were laughing at you. Your eyes stopped on a certain someone, and all they could do was stare at you. You averted your gaze back to Harper.

“I-I’m sorry.” Your voice grew small. You didn’t care anymore that phones were flashing at you or that people were cackling at you again.

“I’m not.” Harper laughed.

You quickly turned your head to collect your bag, and as you did so. Harper snatched the book from the table and hid it behind her back. You turned back and left without saying another word. Harper waved you goodbye, laughing as you slipped again right before exiting the cafeteria. “That should keep her away.”

“Nice one Harper.”

“Maybe she'll rethink her intentions before she kisses Tom again.” She giggled and walked towards Tom.

“Hey, baby.” She placed herself on his lap and kissed him deeply. “Did you see that freakshow, my goodness what a joke.” She laughed as Tom wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Don’t you think you went a little too far?” Tom tilted his head.

“Of course not, besides, I had to let her know who you belong to.” She leaned forward and caught his lower lip with her teeth biting on them gently before pulling back.

Harper smiled and turned her gaze to Harrison. “Hey, Harrison, happy birthday.” She giggled as she threw him your book.

“It’s not my birthday, though,” Harrison said. Tom quickly recognized it and grabbed it.

“You took her book?” He furrowed his brows in question.

“I don’t know, the freak left it behind. Did you see her face? I got her so good!” Harper's eyes widened. A smile dawning her features.

“Yeah, I did, hey why don’t I take it and the next time I get her alone, I’ll taunt her with it.” He turned to Harper.

“Oh, that's a good idea.” Harper got off his lap. “I’ll see you in a bit?”

“Yeah, I just remembered I have to go do something. Sorry, I’ll make it up to you.” Tom got up from the table and pecked her lips quickly. “Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll see you tonight then?”

“Yeah.” Tom smiled and walked out of the cafeteria with your book. Leaving Harper and Harrison by themselves since the rest of their group left. The cafeteria was deserted apart from the lunch ladies, but they were too busy in the back of the kitchen.

Harper sighed. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”

“No, not a clue.” Harrison dismissed her question quickly.

Thursday.

After what happened yesterday. Tom held onto your book. He had the urge to approach you and return it, but he found another way. Then he was reminded of the way his friends might react or the way they might tease him. The pressure was always on him. Whether it be leading his team to a win, or trying to keep his friends. Now the pressure was directed towards you and whether or not he would tease and taunt you.

“Tom and Y/n…” Tom looked upright as the teacher called your names. He looked around until he found you in your seat. Others around him began laughing quietly and whispering amongst themselves. Expressing their pity to him for being paired with you. You slowly sunk into your chair as you felt everyone staring at you. They already thought you were trying to steal Harper’s boyfriend, now you knew this little class pairing would spread around to Harper.

No avoiding the tension now, you thought.

As the teacher finished calling the rest of the names, the bell rang letting everyone know they were dismissed which in your case, was a free period. You collected your notebook and placed it in your bag. After you were all packed you exited the room and started your walk to the library.

“Hey, Y/n wait up!” You stiffened up as you heard his voice. You cringed slightly as people stopped to look at you. You turned around slowly and faced him.

“Y-Yes?”

“Listen I um…” He was going to say sorry, but Harper caught his attention from down the hall, and he sighed.

“Yes?” You repeated, wanting him to let it out.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to help out with the project. I would love to help you, but I got a lot on my plate, ya know.” He chuckled as if you understood where he was coming from. “With practice and the stacks of homework, I got, I’m slammed. If you could not tell Mr. Stevenson about it that’d be great. Don’t want him thinking I made you do all the work now do we?”

“Y-You want me to do the whole project?” You asked quickly, getting upset.

“It doesn’t seem like it’s going to be hard, you’re a smart girl Y/n. Look I gotta get to practice, but let me know how it goes, okay.” He threw you a gentle smile, and you almost believed he thought you were smart. “Hey, Harper wait up!” He called his girlfriend’s name.

You sighed and walked slowly to the library. You wanted to read your dad’s book, but you didn’t have it anymore. You also wanted to brainstorm ideas with Tom, but he blew you off and left it all for you to do. As you got to the library you placed your things down at your designated table and started getting your notebook out.

“Hello, Y/n.” You looked up at the librarian who now stood in front of your table. “Hi Grace, how are you today?” You smiled sweetly at the old lady.

“Oh, I’m fine dear, how are you though?” Grace knew what you were going through and she knew about your cancer. One or some few you’ve only told this to.

“Taking it one day at a time…I’m still waiting for a good day.” You halfheartedly laughed.

“You know every day may not always be the greatest, but there are small great things within that day. So, anything good happen, today?” She smiled softly.

“This cute guy was assigned to be my partner for a project.” You smiled but it quickly faded.

“What’s wrong with that?!”

“He’s the guy that’s been making my life hell, and now I'm left to do this project on my own...” You mumble quietly towards the end to yourself.

“Oh, I see…” She nodded. “Ya know, guys usually pick on girls they like.” She teased with a smirk.

“Trust me, he doesn’t like me.”

“I beg to differ.” Grace brought around something that she was hiding behind her back into your view. It was your book. Your dad’s book. You gasped as you slowly took it from her hand.

“W-Where did you get this?” You looked at her with curiosity.

“My lips are sealed, honey.” She zipped her lips with her pointer finger and thumb and threw away the fake key.

“Thank you.” You smiled.

“Of course, dear, enjoy the rest of your day.”

“I will.” You laughed with a breath.

You glanced down at the book and caressed the edges. Apart from the worn-out pages and the faded smoothie stains, the book was just fine. No tears or anything. It wasn’t ruined and you were glad Harper didn’t do anything more to it.

Friday.

Out of breath. That’s what you were feeling. Your chest was heaving up and down and your body was growing tired. This had to be the worst day of all for you. No physical activities. That’s what your doctor told you, and now you were running. The one thing that you shouldn’t have been doing.

“T-Tom!” You yelled after him as you were currently chasing him down the halls of the school. People were pushing themselves against the lockers and walls not wanting to get pushed out the way. The look of determination on your face was enough to let people know not to push you any more than Tom was doing.

As stupid as it may have been he took your backpack. Who would take a backpack?! Tom, that’s who. He caught you off guard when he snagged it and took off running. That’s when you took off in a sprint. And now if you didn’t stop you felt like you’d probably throw up or something.

“T-Tom just give it back please!” You said out of breath.

“Oh come on now, Y/n. You can’t be that tired now.” He chuckled as a crowd started gathering. Tom was on the last step of the stairs that led to the second floor of the school, which did not look inviting at all. “You want the backpack, come get it.” Tom started going up the stairs.

Taunting you as you took small steps to the stairs.

You paused, placing your hands on your knees. Looking down at your feet trying to control your breathing. You almost did a double-take when you noticed a small drop of red hit the ground.

You quickly brought your hand up to your nose and removed it as you realized you were bleeding. Your heart was thumping loudly in your ears and all the loud laughter coming from everyone was causing you to panic. You were growing overwhelmed and a little dizzy now.

“Looks like the freak can’t handle a joke. Go on, it’s your time to shine. Go after my boyfriend, go get your stuff, before I flush it down the toilet.” It was Harper’s voice that you heard off to your left. You were still facing the stairs, but you didn’t move.

“Come on Y/n. Unless nothing in here actually matters to you.” Tom smirked. You finally looked up at him and he immediately took notice of the dried blood beginning to drip down the edge of your nose. The dazed look you were giving him made him straighten up.

“Y/n?” His voice sounded muffled and right as you took a step forward you were falling to the ground.

You crashed to the ground hard and the crowd grew silent as they suddenly realized what happened. Tom’s breath hitched in the back of his throat as he stood motionless. It wasn’t until a girl pushed her way to the front of the crowd and rushed to your side.

“Oh my god, Y/n.” She shook you awake and then looked at everyone else. “Why the hell are you all standing there? Call an ambulance, oh my god, Y/n. Help!” She yelled at everyone who just stood there.

Tom then finally rushed down to your side and lifted your head on his lap. “Y/n? Can you hear me?”

“Tom, what the hell are you doing?!” Harper grew angry.

“Harper shut the hell up and get a teacher!” Tom looked at everyone who stood there pissed. “Quit standing there and move!” Everyone scrambled then and there.

A couple of seconds passed and Mr. Stevenson and Grace came rushing down the hall along with the principal.

“How did this happen?” The principal cut right to the point.

“She-” Alice began, but Tom cut her off.

“It was my fault, sir. I pushed her too far, and she fainted.” Tom admitted taking full responsibility for everything.

“Holland, come with me.” The principal motioned with his finger leading him to his office. “Mr. Stevenson stay with her until the paramedics get here.”

“I will sir.” So that left Grace, Alice, and Mr. Stevenson with you, unconscious.

“Hang in there kid, help is on its way.” Grace held onto your hand brushing away falling hairs from your face.

“Want to explain to me what happened back there?” The principal stood with his hands on his hips. Tom remained quiet as he stared at his lap. The principal sighed and sat at the edge of his desk in front of Tom. “I know Thomas...”

Tom perked his head up. “What do you mean sir?”

“I don’t know about you, son, but I don’t tolerate students tormenting other students, especially when that student happens to be very sick. Some of your classmates have told me about how you’ve been treating Miss Y/L/N for the past couple of days this week.”

“Sick? What are you talking about?” Tom sat up straighter in his chair, fully worried and curious. Principal Johnson furrowed his brows at his question.

“Are you not aware of her condition Mr. Holland?”

Tom furrowed his brows. “Condition?”

Principal Johnson sighed, bringing his forefinger and thumb up to the bridge of his nose. “Miss Y/L/N has cancer, Mr. Holland.” Tom’s heart sank then and there.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know.”

“Would your actions have been any different if you did? This was all on you, son, and from the looks of it, it didn’t look like you were going to stop.”

“I know that saying sorry isn’t going to make up for it-”

“You’re right it’s not. I don’t currently have any sort of punishment for your behavior, so we’ll discuss it further on Monday next week. But as of right now I only ask that you won’t ever do that sort of thing again. Don’t think I am letting you off the hook that easily Holland, a phone call will still be made to your parents.”

“Of course…” Tom nodded slowly, fully accepting his punishments to come.

“And one more thing…I’m benching you for the rest of the season’s games. I’ll notify your coach immediately.” Tom bit the inside of his cheek, nodding, feeling guilty about it all. “I expected more from you kid. Hopefully, all of this will make you rethink what you’ve done.”

Tom stood up. “Me too.” And left.

“Oh, my sweet baby girl.” Your mom sat on your side of the bed caressing your hair as you were slowly coming to.

“M-Mom?” You rasped out.

“Hi sweetie, how’re you feeling?” Your mom furrowed her brows.

“My head kind of hurts.” You squint your eyes as you sit up slowly.

“Well, you did have quite the fall.”

“I fell?”

“You don’t remember?” You shook your head no.

“Well, all that matters is that you’re alright.”

“Y-Yeah.” You frowned sadly.

“What’s wrong sweetie?”

“R-Remember when you asked me…you asked if anything was going on at school.”

“Yes…”

“I lied.” You looked up at her with teary eyes.

“What happened, sweetie?” Your mom soothed you.

“Well…it’s a long story.” You looked up at her.

“Lay it out.” Then you began telling her all that happened this week, from the start of Monday to what happened today that caused you to fall. Your mom would now know of everything.

Saturday.

You were allowed to go home after the doctor gave you the okay. They wanted to make sure nothing else was wrong, and that you were fine. Safe to say you were and now here you were curled up on the couch with your favorite blanket watching Tv. Your mom was in the kitchen cooking up something to eat for the two of you.

Apart from the arrangements of flowers that were left outside your porch when you arrived home, everything was pretty much back to normal. Well not so much, everyone at school kept sending you gifts and apologized over and over again. You were sympathetic, forgave them, and told them that it was okay and that they didn’t know, so no harm or foul right? Much to your mom’s disagreement, she thought that your classmates could go to hell, but you didn’t give that a second thought and let it go quickly.

Right as you were going to turn up the volume the doorbell rang. You looked back at your mom and you shared a look, yours of amusement and hers of annoyance.

“Wonder who that could be?” She said sarcastically moving towards the door.

You snuggled back onto the couch and heard the faint voices of your mom and someone talking. A couple of minutes passed and your mom came trolling back into the living room holding yet another gift basket that you were given. You sat up with a smile, and your mom sat across from you watching you open the basket and going through the assortment of goodies that were inside.

You finally looked up, face stuffed with a chocolate muffin. “What?” Your voice was muffled.

“Nothing sweetie, I’m just glad you’re happy is all.”

“You love this mom.” You laughed.

“Fine you’re right, I do!” She laughed with you and went through the basket herself.

You looked at all the other gift baskets that adorned your living room. “What are we going to do with all these?” You chuckled as you motioned around the room.

“Well from all the stuff they’re sending us, I don’t have to go shopping for another week.” She joked.

You gasped and hit her shoulder playfully. “Mom!”

“I will never get over how you see so much good in others, Y/n. They treated you unfairly, yet you forgave them so easily.”

“What would be the point in holding a grudge? Yeah, they weren’t exactly nice, but I only have so long left. I’d rather enjoy my time with kindness, not hatred.” You smiled.

“Oh come here!” Your mom blinked quickly not wanting tears to fall down her face. “I love you so much...”

“I love you too, mom.”

Sunday.

You and your mom were enjoying your weekend together by eating ice cream and watching chick flicks. You were getting to the good part of the movie when you heard the engine of a car pull up. You looked at your mom right as she turned to look at you with a knowing smile.

Your mom ran to the window sill looking out.

“He’s back.” Your mom eyed the boy as she stuffed her mouth with another spoonful of cookies n’ cream. You quickly got up and ran to her side watching as he opened the trunk of his car unloading four more arrangements of flowers. You smiled at the gesture he was making. Your guess was this was his way of apologizing. You both stared as he made his way up to the porch and began placing more flower baskets and vases down gently. He stopped for a second and rearranged one of the vases and moved them to another spot.

“Ya know if he keeps this up we’re not going to have any way to leave the house. He’s filling up the porch quite nicely huh.” Your mom teased licking her spoon that was backward. “I’m allergic to bees, remember?” She giggled. “It’s cute though, what he’s doing for you. I don’t think any boy has ever done that for you.” She nudged your arm playfully.

“Shhh.” You observed as he crouched down and organized the flowers. You considered this the perfect moment and removed the blanket from around your shoulders and set it on the couch. You headed towards the door and slipped your shoes on.

“Make sure to give him a big kiss.” Your mom giggled.

“Not another word from you.” You pointed at her and then opened the door.

The sound of the front door unlocking caught Tom’s attention and he stood up startled. He watched in shock as you walked out and closed the door behind you. Once you finally turned around it was like he couldn’t find his words or breathe properly.

“Hi.” You smiled at him gently.

“H-Hey.” He breathed out nervously.

You smiled and looked at all the flowers he brought you. You hadn’t gone outside to see them for yourself. Only staying inside. Your smile grew bigger when you spotted your favorite flower amongst the dozen other ones. You turned your gaze back to him.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.”

“Of course. I’m glad you like them.”

“You should probably stop though.”

“W-What?” Tom grew nervous.

“I don’t think my porch has any more room for arrangements. Where would you even put them?” You giggled as you looked around. He really did fill up the entire two sides of the porch, only leaving a path from the door to the steps. “Plus...my mom’s allergic to bees.”

“Oh! Yeah, I guess I did go a little...overboard.” Tom cringed as he scratched the back of his neck.

“It’s sweet of you though. No one’s ever done this for me…” You trailed off smiling shyly at your shoes.

It was quiet for a couple of seconds before he spoke up. “Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

You smiled up at him. “You didn’t know, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, yes it was, and you have every right to hate me, okay.”

“I forgive you, Tom, seriously it’s okay.” You laughed as he kept beating himself up. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Y/n.”

“Well, that’s too bad because I’m giving it to you. I…I don’t hate you, Tom.”

“But I treated you so horribly…all the things I did and said, I…I caused you to fall.” Tom’s voice cracked and he looked at you.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not, okay. I’m fine, see.” You cupped his face. “I’m fine Tom. I’m okay.” You didn’t know what made you so bold all of a sudden, but you pressed your foreheads together.

Tom closed his eyes and steadied his breathing to the rhythm of yours. When his eyes opened back up he saw your eyes. Your e/c eyes. They were so beautiful. His eyes then trailed down to your lips. A sudden pull caused him to lean in. You leaned in too. You let it happen. This time it wasn’t to get your book back. This kiss was the real thing. And you loved it. You smiled into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Tom’s hands remained on your hips, but he tugged them forward to press you closer to him.

When you both pulled away you were flushed. Your lips were a little swollen. Tom didn’t dare untangle his arms that were wrapped around you.

“I don’t care how long it takes. I’m going to keep making it up to you.”

“Tom-”

“No, I mean it. I was horrible to you, and just cause I’m leaving these small things for you, still doesn’t make what I did acceptable. It wasn’t right.”

“When did you realize all this?” You smiled gently.

“When I made you kiss me that day in the library. I took your first kiss from you. It wasn’t fair of me to do that to you.”

“Who says that was my first kiss?” You smirked teasingly.

“I... I just had a feeling.”

“So you had a feeling that no one’s ever kissed me before. Am I that much of a loser?”

“What?! No of course not, you are so kissable, and beautiful, and you deserve so many-”

“Tom, Tom.” You laughed, cutting him off.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Don’t hurt yourself....” You pulled him in and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

“I don’t deserve you.” He pressed his head against yours.

“I think you’re a bit hard on yourself Tom. You deserve a lot more than you think.”

“I don't...but you do.” He muttered. "You don't mean that?"

“I mean it.” You closed your eyes letting him kiss you again. This one was slower, and sweet, displaying how each of you felt about each other.

Sunday had been one of those days that you never expected to happen. Then again you hadn’t expected Tom to end up kissing you after a week filled with his tormenting and bullying. There was no doubt you were still kind of cautious around him, he just spent the whole weekend feeling guilty. You didn't know what Monday would bring.

Could it be more of his bullying?

Was this just a front so people wouldn’t hate him?

Was he actually trying to change for the greater good?

Did he truly want to make it up to you?

Did he really have feelings for you?

You didn’t know...

Monday.

After what happened on Sunday you weren’t sure how things were going to go at school. Your mom had suggested you stay at home, but even she knew that you wouldn’t agree, you were too much of a good student to miss school, even if you did faint not more than three days ago. You were in the middle of putting your books and notes into your bag when the doorbell rang. Your head turned towards the door. You were confused. No one ever really came this early, especially to your house. You walked up to the door and unlocked it. When the door swung open the person who stood behind the door was not who you were expecting it to be.

“Tom?” Your eyes widen in surprise.

Tom smiled sheepishly as his hands were in his front pockets. He shifted from foot to foot, as he grew nervous.

“Hey.” He said as his eyes shined. His stance was curious and timid.

“What are you doing here?” You held onto the door as you asked him.

“I...do you, would you-” He began stuttering.

“Yes?” You smiled. Tom gulped as he noticed you smiling at the stuttering mess that was himself.

“Do you- you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought it’d be a good idea for us- which you don’t have to say yes to. I know I haven’t been the best to you, and it’s probably too early anyway-” Tom rubbed his neck as he kept gesturing to you and what you believed was his car that he was pointing at. Two and two clicked together in your head making you smile at his offer. He kept stumbling over his words.

Just like you had done yesterday, you stopped him before he could hurt himself.

“-Tom, Tom.” You reached forward grabbing a hold of his arms to get his attention. “I would love it if you gave me a ride to school.” You giggled as he looked at you shocked.

Your laugh making his heart melt. “You would?”

You nodded. “Yes, I would. Thanks...” You muttered as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his cheek.

Tom closed his eyes as he enjoyed the sweet affection you gave him. He didn’t want to tell you right away.

“You’re welcome.” He spoke softly as he gazed at you with adoration.

“I just need to grab my things.” You motioned back inside the house. “Come in.”

“Okay.” Tom breathed as he quickly entered after you. He closed the door standing awkwardly, not knowing what to do. He only took a few steps inside your house. The living room caught his eye. A couple of pictures of you and what he assumed was your mom stood out to him.

However, one picture did catch his eye. It was one of you and your mom at the hospital. Tom assumed that this was taken a while back since you didn’t seem to have hair in this picture. What he couldn’t help but notice was the way you were smiling. You looked worn down, but he probably would have never known that by the happiness showing in your eyes. “Chemo.”

Tom was brought out of his daze as he whirled around to see you standing beside him. A grip on your backpack, preventing it from falling.

“What?” Pure innocence in his eyes causes you to smile lightly.

“That was taken at the end of my chemo. It was almost a while ago.” You ran a hand through your short hair. A habit you began doing after your hair grew back. It was growing back slowly, but you were slowly withering away. You didn’t mind it being short. You quite liked it this way. “Hence the hair.” You shrugged nonchalantly while lifting the edges of your hair.

Tom didn’t say anything, he only continued to gaze at you with a look you couldn’t pinpoint. “I never would have noticed.” Tom shook his head slightly. He motioned to your hair. “It looks...nice. It always has...” He smiled genuinely.

"Always?" Your heart melts.

Tom grew flustered. “I uh-” He laughed nervously.

“Have you been secretly keeping track of my hair?” You teased him with a smile. “Since when?”

"Since...middle school." He scratched his neck. You hadn't expected an actual answer.

“Oh.” That was all you could say as you blushed slightly.

Tom glanced at his feet before he looked up at you again. “Ready to go?”

“Mhmm.” You smiled as you placed your hand in his that he extended out to you.

You let go of his hand once you were outside. Quickly locking the door, then taking his hand again as you made your way to his car.

Tom followed you to the passenger side and opened the door for you. You smiled sweetly at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled down at you as you were seated inside. He closed your door and made his way to the driver's side, getting in and starting up the engine.

“Good?” He asked you as you finished buckling yourself.

“Yeah.” You smiled.

“Okay.” Tom quickly glanced behind his shoulders. Left then right making sure there weren’t any cars coming, then slowly reversing out the driveway. Turning the wheel and putting the car in drive, you both began making your way towards school.

As the weekend passed Harper couldn’t help but feel hurt at the way Tom yelled at her. Sure he was angry, but he didn’t need to yell at her. Feeling like it was her fault that he wasn’t answering any of her messages, she wanted nothing more than to fix things between them. And what better way to do that, than in person in front of the whole school? Harper loved the attention, but she was determined to make you jealous. She was determined to show you who you were messing with, even if you ended up fainting again.

“So what happened again between you and Tom?” One of Harper’s friends asked her.

“Nothing happened Hannah. We just had a bit of a complication…” Harper fluffed up her curls. She pursed her lips and gazed at herself through her locker mirror. “Don’t worry, Tom and I are good as new again,” Harper smirked as she applied another layer of her cherry lip gloss. She popped her lips when she was satisfied with her appearance.

“You guys are great together. Compatible in every way.” Heather fed the beast- I mean Harper with praises and compliments. “Job well done Harper.”

“Thanks, Heather, I am incredibly lucky to have such a great guy like Tom.” Harper bit her lip as flashes of Tom and her in her room popped up in her head.

“Looks like your luck ran out..” Hannah said.

“What? Why would you even say that Hannah!” Harper gaped at her. Hannah only replied by motioning over Harper’s shoulder with her head.

Confused by her words Harper and Heather turned around to see what Hannah was talking about. As she did, her breath slightly hitched. As if her day couldn’t get any worse, she now had to see her boyfriend walk into the building with his hand intertwined with yours.

“Oh yeah, good as new alright.” Hannah mocked her.

“Shut up, Hannah!” Harper snapped at her.

“Hey, you’re the one who said you two were fine. It’s not my fault you can’t keep track of your boyfriend, well looks like your ex-boyfriend now.” Hannah put her hands up in defense.

“Oh no, don’t expect that-” She pointed at you and Tom standing at your locker. “-is going to last. Tom just probably feels bad about what happened on Friday. He can be quite sympathetic sometimes, this is just one of those times.”

“If you say so Harp,” Heather spoke up this time. “Let’s hope you’re right about this. You still need a date to prom after all.” She reminded Harper.

“Don’t worry, he’s going to wish he never held her hand,” Harper smirked evilly as she closed her locker. She picked up her bag and walked in the opposite direction from where you two stood. Heather and Hannah followed closely behind her.

“People are staring.” You muttered to Tom as you grabbed your backpack from him. You switched out your science and history books, for your Algebra and Literature books.

“Yeah…” He trailed off as he turned his head towards the lingering eyes on you and him. He frowned as he caught Harper throwing him a scowl before she walked away.

“A-Are you sure you want to be seen with me?” You frowned. Tom looked back at you furrowing his brows at your question.

“Of course I do.” He dipped his head as you avoided his gaze. “Y/n, look at me.” You looked up. “If there is one thing that I am certain about, it’s wanting to be with you.”

“Really, 'cause it's only been two days since your mind changed about how you felt about me?” You whispered, not being able to help your accusatory tone.

“Really.” He pecked your forehead. “Come on now, let’s get you to class.” He smiled as he lightly tugged on your hand. "Come on..."

“Okay.” You smiled sheepishly as you closed your locker. As Tom began tugging you down the hall, you both were abruptly stopped.

“Mr. Holland.” A voice spoke up from behind you. Tom closed his eyes as he recognized who the voice belonged to.

“Principal Johnson.” Tom sighed as he turned around, letting go of your hand.

“Do you know what today is, boy?”

“Monday sir.”

“It’s Monday! Come on, my office.” Principal Johnson motioned with his hand as he turned around, already heading to his office.

Tom turned to you. “Library, third period?” He asked with hope.

You nodded. “Go before you get into more trouble.” You playfully pushed him. He leaned forward and pecked your cheek before scurrying off after the principal. You blushed as you made your way to your first class.

“So Miss Y/L/N huh?” Principal Johnson asked as he fiddled with his pen.

“Sir I-”

“You sure you know what you’re doing boy?”

“I do, I do sir.” Tom nodded furiously.

“Because it looks like you’re trying to use her to get yourself out of your punishment. Like she’s your in, to get on my good side.”

“No, that’s not…that’s not it sir. I swear. It’s not like that.” Tom stumbled with his words.

“Then explain it to me, son.”

“With all due respect, sir…I’m not quite comfortable talking about my feelings to you.”

“Feelings you say?” Principal Johnson raised his eyebrows almost as if in amusement.

“I promise Principal Johnson. I would never truly honestly intend for Y/n to get hurt. I lo- I couldn’t forgive myself if anything else happens to her.” Tom stared at his lap as the guilt still ran through him. You forgave him, but he didn’t feel that he deserved to be forgiven, in such a short amount of time too. He wanted to make it up to you.

“But something did happen, and you were the cause of it.” Principal Johnson reminded him. Tom nodded his head.

Principal Johnson stared at the boy feeling bad. At some point and time, he was in the same position Tom was. So in love with a girl that it ate him up. Willing to do anything for her. He sympathized with the boy.

“Here’s what I am going to do, Tom.” Tom raised his head. “You’re still benched for the season.”

“Right...” Tom sighed.

“And you still need to be punished.”

“Right…” Tom nodded slowly wanting to know where he was going with this.

“So as your punishment, you’re going to be helping out in the Library. Ya know, checking out books, shelving books, that usual stuff.”

“Oh, wow!” Tom perked up as he realized he’d be seeing you more often now.

“Yeah?” Principal Johnson eyed him weirdly but brushed it off quickly. “I’ll let Grace know you’ll be on your way to begin helping her.”

“Is that all?” Tom was surprised at how that went well. “Well, unless you have a better suggestion for a punishment?”

“No, no, I don’t. Thank you for my punishment. I’ll be on my way, sir.” Tom stood up and started opening the door when he was stopped.

“Thomas.” Tom looked back, at Principal Johnson. “Be good to her son.”

“I will...” Tom nodded then left.

As he promised, Tom met you in the library after the third period ended. You were buried deep in one of the aisles in the very back of the library preoccupied with your dad’s book.

Tom walked into the library wanting to see you but finding you nowhere in sight. This came to Grace’s attention as she noticed him enter.

“You lost honey?” She teased as she set down the books she was shelving.

“Hey Grace, you’ve seen Y/n?” Tom held onto the strap of his backpack as he shuffled from foot to foot.

“Can I ask why?” Grace already knew what had happened between you two. You told her yourself. She wanted to give him a hard time just for the fun of it.

“I uh-”

“You here to pick on the poor girl because if you are I’ll have no problem calling Principal Johnson.”

“No, no, no…” Tom’s eyes widened as he grew nervous and a little scared. “I’m not here to bully her, I swear. Grace, I swear I don’t want to hurt her. You don’t understand…” Watching Tom become flustered and nervous made her laugh. The sound startled him.

“I’m just messing with you.” She dismissed him with her hand. “She’s in the back.” She motioned to the side of the library you were at. Grace then went back to shelving some books like nothing ever happened.

Standing there stunned and a little nervous. Tom eyed Grace wearily as he slowly took a step in your direction. “T-Thank you.” He stuttered then took off to find you. Grace chuckled as he scurried off.

Tom swore that he was getting whiplash by how quickly he was turning his head left and right as he passed every aisle. “Y/n!” He whispered as he kept going down the aisles in the middle of the two sides of the shelves. He turned his head right, then left, and right as he did he was being yanked to the right side. He yelped slightly as he ended up losing his balance falling on top of you.

You groaned. “Oh, get off your heavy.” You push against him.

Tom feigned a fake hurt gasp as he propped himself on his elbows to hover above you. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” He chuckled.

“Sorry.” You giggled.

“It’s okay you caught me off guard is all.”

“So you were distracted?” You bit your lip in amusement.

“Yeah, trying to find you.” He glanced at your eyes and then down at your lips.

“Well, you found me...” You placed your hand on his neck.

“I did…” Tom trailed off as he lowered his lips onto yours. The kiss was slow and sweet. Nothing rough or quick about it. Tom pulled back, sitting up.

You frowned at the loss of contact. You took his extended hand and as you were fully sat up, he grabbed you by the waist and tugged you onto his lap making you squeal.

“Tom?” You giggled as he peppered your neck with wet kisses. The feeling was nothing like you’ve ever felt before, it was new, and you knew you wanted to experience it more often.

Before things escalated Tom took his lips off your neck.

“Okay, okay, I’m stopping. I’m stopping.” Tom whispered as a smile made its way onto his lips. Tom gulped as he began telling you what the principal told him. “So, Principal Johnson gave me my punishment.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, he thought it’d be a good idea for me to spend some quality time with the girl I like in the library.” Tom smiled cheekily.

“Tom seriously, tell me.” You playfully slapped his shoulder.

“He talked to Grace, and now I’m going to be helping out in here.” He smiled as your eyes widened.

“Are you serious? You hate the library though?” You laughed in disbelief.

“Not really. If anything it’s kind of growing on me.” He smiled as he twirled the ends of your hair around his finger.

“I get to see you more?” You blushed.

“That’s right.” He teased. “Get used to me Y/L/N, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“However will I survive!” You smiled as you both leaned in for a kiss.

“Tom!” Tom pulled back, startled by Grace calling out for him.

“Shit!” He scrambled up to his feet. The sight alone caused you to laugh. “Coming Grace!” He quickly helped you to your feet. “I’ll see you later?” The same kind of hope in his eyes.

“Go before you lose it.” You giggled. Tom pecked you one more time and ran off towards Grace to begin helping. You shook your head. Tom was surely something else.

Tuesday.

The following day Tom did the same thing. He picked you up in the morning and then drove the both of you to school. Almost believing for a second that things were going to be better the next day was an understatement. People still stared at you two as you walked into school hand in hand. Whispers going around amongst your classmates. Tom, not thinking too much of it, continued to smile at you.

“What do you say?”

“Huh?” You finally realized that he was talking to you.

Tom chuckled and shook his head. “I asked if you wanted to eat lunch together during third period.” Tom bit his lip trying not to let his smile show how much he was excited to spend time with you. When he noticed the worried look on your face he frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Tom was not so sure that it was true. “Actually can I be honest?”

“Of course.” He nodded assuring you.

“You have been my crush for a very long time…” You smiled. He did too. “I always considered the possibility of you and me ending up together a one-in-a-million chance. Yet here I am, and here you are. We’re together.” You chuckled. “Our feelings are mutual and it’s the weirdest feeling in the world because you’re Tom, this great guy, and I’m just me, the cancer girl.” You shrugged. “And I never would have thought that you’d actually see me.”

“I’ve always seen you-”

“And now that we’re together it feels like a risky thing because I'm sick and we're from two different worlds-”

“We’re no different than everybody else Y/n.” Tom bit his lip and shook his head. “So what if I want to be with you? I want to be with you, Y/n. What’s the harm in that?”

“My cancer. Your friends...” You glanced over his shoulder then brought your eyes back to his. Tom glanced over his shoulder and frowned as he realized his buddies were watching him. “They don’t control the way I feel, Y/n. You’re the best thing that has happened to me.” Tom cupped your face and leaned in. The kiss was slow, but a little more love felt. When you pulled away you felt a bit upset. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you just kiss me because you wanted to or because your friends are watching?”

Tom pulled away, slightly a bit hurt by your words. “Because I want to…Y/n I would never do that to you, I promise.”

“Okay...” Your voice grew small as you slowly lifted your head to look at him.

“I don't want to hurt you in any way anymore.” Tom leaned forward and pecked your cheek. “I’ll see you for lunch okay.” He pecked your forehead. You both moved along in the hallway stopping in front of the library. Your hand lingered in his for a bit before you let go.

“I’ll be where I usually sit.” You dazed off.

“Okay.” Tom nodded. “I should probably get inside, Grace needed some help moving a couple of things around.”

“Well, I’ll let you get to it then.” You let go of his hand and began walking backward.

“I love you.” He told you.

“Too soon, Holland.” You breathed out a laugh and finally turned around to walk to your next class. You were never going to make it to lunch.

"Nah...I love you." Tom called after you.

When Tom reached the library he got to work right away. Helping Grace out wherever she needed him to. If Tom was being honest, he was starting to enjoy spending time surrounded by books. It even got to the point where he could understand why you loved this place so much. A lifetime of stories right in front of him to read. He could hear your voice, the way you explained the adventure of a good book that you had read.

“It’s about the journey it takes you on. From the beginning, all the way to the very end. It’s exciting.” You’d say. “The thrill of not knowing what’s going to happen next. That has to be my favorite part.” You would end the sentence with a smile.

In a way, your words explain your relationship perfectly. In the beginning, you two didn’t start out on a positive note, but the things that have happened next have been indescribable and one of the best things that have happened. Now all that was left was the rest of your journey together, right to the very end. He was nervous about what the rest of the ride would bring him, but Tom hadn’t been more thrilled about something since the time he landed a backflip. He wanted to continue forward no matter the obstacles that he and you faced.

Tom bit his lip as he smiled at the thought. He wants this, he wants everything. The whole package. All of you. He’s ready!

“So this is what you’re doing instead of trying to get back on the team.” Tom’s hand paused midway as he was shelving a book. The familiarity of the voice had him smirking. Of course, he had the nerve to speak to him now.

“Nice to see you too, Harrison.” Tom looked over his shoulder to see him leaning against the shelf of books behind him.

“Seriously mate?” Harrison furrowed his eyebrows at the brunette.

“What Harrison?” Tom set down the books and spun around to face the blonde.

“What are you doing, Tom? You were the star quarterback. You had the girl. You had everything.” Harrison slumped his shoulders. He shook his head.

“None of it is going to matter in a couple of years? It’s just a position. Harper is just a girl who only wants to be with me to make herself look good. And you’re wrong, I don't have everything. I don’t have everything and I’m fine. You know what I do have though, clarity. Clarity that my friends care more about popularity than being decent fucking human beings.” Tom shook his head and turned around.

“Just like you’re suddenly fine getting all close with Y/n. Have you forgotten about how much of a freak she is?” Harrison chuckled at the fallen expression Tom had. “Don’t you remember our little deal?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Tom brushed off the ache he suddenly felt in his heart.

“Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I go talk to Y/n for a bit.” Harrison pushed himself off the shelves and motioned over to where he saw you walk in. You were making your way over to where they were.

“Don’t you dare, Harrison!” Tom growled lowly, as he shoved Harrison back against the shelves this time while gripping the collar of his shirt.

“Oh, so you do remember.” Harrison smiled amused.

“What the hell man, you’re supposed to be my best friend!” Tom took his hands off him.

“And you’re not supposed to give up your life for some girl!” Harrison situated his shirt.

“What the hell happened to us?”

“You tell me…one minute you're barely talking to any of us, then the next you're off with some girl who was only supposed to be a part of the bet Harper made with you.”

“What?”

Tom and Harrison turned their heads. The voice belonged to you. Tom’s eyes widened so big you thought they were going to pop out of their sockets. He was so scared…so scared that you wouldn’t believe him. And he was scared you now thought the feelings he had for you weren’t real.

“Y/n...” Tom croaked out as he felt tears begin to slide down his cheek.

“I’m a bet?” You muttered.

“No, no, no, no.” Tom made his way over to you quickly. He took a hold of your face in his hands, doing everything he could do to make you look at him. Your expression was dazed, emotionless, and he was the cause of it. “You’re not a bet.” He began hugging you tightly not wanting to let you slip away. “You’re not a bet, you’re not a bet. You’re not a bet.” He mumbled into your hair. Your arms remained at your sides. You didn’t know how to feel at this point.

Harrison watching the whole interaction realized he made a mistake opening his big fat mouth. He’s never seen Tom act this way, not for anybody. Not even for any girl he’s been with. That’s all it took to see that you weren’t just some girl they chose for Tom to pick on. You were now the girl. The girl that would somehow make everything better in his life. His girl. Harrison just didn’t know it then.

“Baby, you’re not a bet. Please, please, believe me, you’re not a bet. You’re so much more than that. You’re so much more.” He pressed a tender kiss to your temple while you remained still as a rock. Your eyes stared at one spot. Tom pulled back to look at you. Your expression remained the same. “Harrison’s stupid, don’t listen to him, he doesn’t control the way I feel about you. My friends don’t understand this, they don’t understand us. But I’m not gonna let them break us. Okay?” He pressed his head against yours. “I’m not going to let them break us.” Tom’s voice cracked as he got no response from you yet.

He pulled you back into his arms. He pressed a kiss now and then into your hair. Tom just held you, he held you until you finally took in his words.

Maybe his friend Harrison wanted to break you two apart. Maybe he didn’t accept you two being together.

Maybe he was lying about being a bet. Maybe just maybe.

It was slow and it was a gentle touch, but Tom felt it right away. A smile made its way onto his lips as he now felt your arms and hands snake around his waist to hug him back. He gripped you a bit tighter, not too hard to hurt you, but just enough to let you know he wasn’t letting you go.

“I love you.” His voice is muffled by your hair but you hear him nonetheless.

“I love you too.” You whispered back as you buried your head in his neck.

Wednesday.

Yours and Tom’s morning was almost like a routine now. He’d pick you up, drive you to school, you’d walk in together, people would stare, you comment on it, and then he walks you to class, while he makes his way to the library.

A routine. It remained the same. You wouldn’t change it. You got to see him more often now, and you were grateful for it.

You were seated at lunch at your usual table, and your focus was on your father’s book, but you couldn’t ignore how some of your classmates kept throwing looks and glances your way. You never did enjoy being the center of attention. Let alone the attention that was drawing Harper closer to your table. You placed the book in front of your face, hoping it would do you some good at hiding you, but alas…

Harper reached forward and lowered the book from your face. “I can still see you,” Harper smirked.

“Right.” You chuckled nervously and looked down at your book again. Yet you couldn’t help but look over her shoulder. Heather and Hannah were nowhere in sight - that was somewhat of a good thing, right?

Harper caught on quickly and reassured your nerves. “Oh, those two…” She motioned behind her. “Don’t worry they won’t be sitting with us today.”

“T-Today?” You raised your brow in confusion. "Sitting with us?"

“We’re gonna eat lunch together silly.” Harper giggled, she sat down across from you on the chair and reached down into her bag to retrieve her lunch. All greens, it was probably a salad.

“Oh…” You trailed off, you picked up a carrot, and bit into it slowly. Eating was a nervous habit of yours.

“You don’t mind do you?” Harper gave you a questioning look that made you not want to do bad by her. She played with the straw of her smoothie, and you couldn’t help but glance at the plastic thing and then at her.

“No, I don’t mind...” You gave her an unsure smile.

“Great!” She exclaimed with satisfaction. Harper took a sip of her drink, then stabbed a fork into her salad. “So where’s Romeo?” Harper nonchalantly observed the cafeteria for the tall brunette.

“Tom?” You watched her closely.

“Yeah, who else would I mean?” Harper shrugged. Then she added. “So, where is he?” Harper crossed her hands and leaned in closer.

“Oh uh, he had to-” You stammered.

“Hey love, sorry I’m late, Grace had me put books back into their right place.” You turned around in your chair just in time for Tom to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. He smiled at you then frowned once he realized Harper was sitting in front of you. “Harper?” He threw her a questioning look. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s school, I’m pretty sure we have to attend it.” She sassed him.

“I mean, why the hell are you sitting with us?” Tom took a seat next to you. He placed his tray and bookbag down.

“Oh, didn’t Y/n tell you…she invited me to sit with you guys. Isn’t she the sweetest?” Harper giggled and gave you a smile you knew was fake.

Tom glanced between you and Harper. “You did?” He stared at you.

“I could have possibly done that.” You stared at her.

“Okay then…” Tom eyed you curiously then he relaxed when you gave him that smile he grew to love over the few days. The table grew quiet causing the tension to rise.

“Why so quiet?” Harper blurted out. “Usually you two love birds are so chatty and full of giggles any other day, is it me?” Harper eyed you two playfully.

“Yes.” “N-No.” You and Tom looked at each other with an incredulous look, then you glanced at Harper.

“Well, which one is it?” Harper smiled.

Tom scowled angrily. “Harper, can I talk to you?”

“We are talking, Tom.” You flinched when she said that.

“Outside.”

“I’m sure you can talk to me in front of Y/n, right babes?” Harper turned her attention onto you, but you remained quiet.

Tom got up and grabbed her arm. Harper grabbed her bag in time as Tom began dragging her out of the cafeteria. You sat there frozen not sure what to do. You looked back at some of your classmates who were staring at you. You hid behind your hand and began reading your book again, sinking and lowering into your chair.

Without thinking too much about it, Tom dragged Harper into an empty supply closet, locked the door, and pushed her against the wall. But his movements were nowhere near lustful, maybe a bit out of frustration, but no passion or hunger resided within him.

“Seriously? First Harrison then you. What’s next huh? A smoothie gets thrown in my face too?” Tom scoffed, shaking his head.

Harper was too into this side of him. It might have been one of the reasons why sex with him was always great. The two of them just melted together that way. No feelings were involved, just a bunch of pent-up tension needing to be released…but perhaps she wanted more.

“Don’t be silly like I’d ever throw one in that pretty face of yours.” Harper chuckled then threw her arms around his neck.

“But you’d throw one at Y/n.” Tom frowned. He turned his gaze to the wall next to them. “You did throw one at her.”

Y/n, Y/n, Y/n. That’s all she ever heard from him.

Think about me, now.

Harper moved his chin with her finger. Her eyes move from his eyes down to his lips. She licked her own out of sudden instinct. “She can’t make you happy like I can.”

Tom stared at her doing nothing to remove her arms. He didn't know where it came from. It was out of nowhere. One second he was angry with her, then the next he harshly kissed her lips. Harper clung onto his dark hair tugging at it just the way he liked. A groan emitted from his lips.

He pulled her tighter and closer to his body. He missed the way she felt around his hands. All perfection rolled into one. It looked like he couldn’t get enough of Harper, but if anyone could handle Harper it was him. He was the only one she knew that would take really good care of her.

While one hand is gripping her waist, the other starts pulling down the straps of her top. Wet kisses trail down her neck causing a whimper every time he bit down and sucked at her skin. One item of clothing follows one by one. First his shirt, then her top.

“God I missed you.” Tom rasps.

“Missed you too.” Their breathing is labored and raspy. The hunger they have for each other pulls them closer like a magnet. She ends up getting lost in the feeling of his lips, her mind reeling as he sinks to his knees before her. “Harper.”

“Harper.”

“Harper!” Tom shook her out of her daze.

Harper snapped out of it and looked up at Tom who scoffed. “Just stay away from Y/n, okay.” He removed her arms and left the closet. No one in sight to see him leave it. Thank god.

He made his way back to you. You were still seated avoiding everyone’s eyes. You deserved the world from where he stood. He walked up to your table and took his seat next to you. You were pulled out of your concentration from your book once you felt his presence. You smiled gently. “Everything okay?”

He smiled back. A gleam in his eyes you began to notice when you were with him. In some ways, it felt that he looked at you like you were his whole world. No way he’d think like that. Would he though?

“Everything…is perfect, love.” Tom muttered then leaned in to plant a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Okay.” Your eyes crinkled at the edges as you smiled.

“You ready to go?” He motioned to your half-eaten lunch.

“You barely ate anything.” You frowned.

“I’m okay.” He shrugged. “Not that hungry anymore.”

“You don’t want a bite of my sandwich, I got full with the carrots, and fruits.” You offered. Tom shook his head.

“Not even a bit of celery with peanut butter.” You waved the vegetable in his face.

Tom pondered for a second then smiled. He took it from your hand and bit down into it. He finished it in three big bites. He chewed until there was no trace of the green stick in his mouth. “Thank you.” He leaned in to kiss you, but you stopped him by putting your hand on his chest. “What?” He questioned as he saw you stifle a laugh. “What?” He smiled brightly this time.

“You got uh.” You gestured to your mouth. Tom caught on and wiped at his mouth, only to miss the spot he needed to get. “You huh, here let me…” You licked the pad of your thumb and gently wiped away the bit of peanut butter that was at the edge of his mouth. “There.” You were frozen at what you had just done. Tom, on the other hand, couldn’t find the right words to say. You kept doing things that left him rendered speechless, in a good admirable way. He liked you, that much was true, but the way he looked at you right now said something completely different. Was it love that glistened in his eyes? No, it was too soon for that still. Was it though?

You were a bit flustered, your cheeks heated. You removed your eyes from his and turned towards the table in search of a napkin, you wanted to clean the peanut butter off, but couldn’t. You slumped in defeat for a second. Tom took notice and grabbed a hold of your hand. He gently guided it up to his lips. He wrapped his fingers around your thumb, bent his head down to meet the pad of it, and sucked it off. You felt his tongue and the top and bottom part of his lips suck the bit of condiment in one quick go. To you, it felt slower, but it was quick, and he certainly didn’t think too much of it…at least until he saw your reaction. You were dumbstruck, you were caught off guard by his action, not expecting it, but it happened.

“Sorry.” Tom apologized with a sheepish smile on his lips.

“It’s okay.” You bashfully glanced at your lap, then back up at him. “R-Ready to go?” You asked as you began closing the lid on your containers.

“Yeah.” He nodded as he waited for you to put your lunch away in your bag. You grabbed your dad’s book, and he slung your bag over his shoulder. You didn’t bother arguing with him about being able to carry it yourself.

You tried…You did and you lost every time, it was inevitable at this point. You took his extended hand and walked out of the cafeteria and headed to the library.

Thursday.

It was after school and you were in your room doing a bit of homework when you heard it. You were trying to figure out a mathematical equation you could not solve. You thought you had it, but your focus was interrupted when a noise got your attention. You didn’t think much of it and proceeded to ignore it until it continued. The tiny clunk of something hitting your window.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

It kept repeating until it grew louder. You pushed your math book off your lap and walked over to your window. You looked out waiting to see if something was there. It grew quiet again and then a sudden bang sounded against your window again causing you to shriek out in fear.

“Ahh!” You jumped in place, then pushed your window up to open it. You stuck your head out and right as you did a small pebble struck you on your forehead. You flinched, raising a hand to where you got hit. “Ow…” You trailed off.

Tom, on the other hand, stood still in his spot. He gaped in shock that he just hit you. His hands were frozen in the air like he was reaching out for you but he was pulling back into himself. His fingers curled into his palm and he brought his fist towards his mouth and closed his eyes at his stupidity.

“What the hell?” You moaned as you looked down at him. He opened his eyes looking guilty. “I’m…so sorry. Oh my god, are you okay?” Tom cringed as he replayed the image of you getting hit in his mind.

“No, you just pebbled me in the face!” You looked at him incredulously. “What the hell are you doing out here?” You shook your head.

“I thought it’d be romantic.” Tom sheepishly gritted his teeth. He shrugged.

“To hit me?!” You furrowed your brows.

“What? No, throw pebbles…at your window.” He scratched his neck nervously. “Guess it didn’t pan out like I thought it would.”

You smiled gently. You then realize the picnic basket and blanket next to his feet. Your heart fluttered at the gesture. He was trying and it was best if you cut him some slack. He did come out here after all.

“I’m sorry.” He pouted. You wanted to reach out and kiss the pout off him.

“We have a front door ya know?” You giggled teasing him a bit.

“I know, I just didn’t want to wake your mom up though.” Tom smiled gently.

“Too late!”

You and Tom whipped your heads towards the window that was right next to yours.

“Tom.” Your mom waves at Tom.

“Hi Ms. Y/L/N.” Tom gave her a quick wave then rocked back and forth sheepishly on his feet.

“Mom?” You whined.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your homework?” Your mom smiled innocently.

“Mom…”

“It’s a school night.” Your mom reminded you.

“When has that been an issue?” You and your mom bantered back and forth. Tom thought he was going to get whiplash by how much his head was going between you and your mom.

“It…hasn’t?” Your mom cringed.

“Great, so I can have the rest of the night off?” You smiled innocently.

“Not all night, you need your sleep.” Your mom pointed out.

“Four hours?”

“Two.”

“What? No, at least three!”

“Hour and a half?”

“Two and a half.”

"Fine."

"Fine!" You sighed and then looked at Tom who had no clue what just happened. “You heard her.” Tom focused on you. “Meet me in the backyard.”

Tom nodded like a happy toddler as he fumbled with the blanket and carried the basket into the yard. He closed the fence and began setting up. Once he was out of hearing shot you looked over at your mom with an unimpressed look.

“Really?”

“Tick tock.” She sing-songed as she removed herself from the window and closed it shut. You chuckled at her actions and went back to your room, closing the window behind you. You pick up your cardigan and put it over your tank top. Your pajama bottoms were too comfortable to change out of. You stepped up to your long-length mirror and gave yourself a once over. You still had your insecurities, even if Tom made you feel like the prettiest girl in the world.

You never doubted that you had something going for yourself. No guy at school seemed to think so, but Tom did, and for some odd reason, you liked his attention. He was cute and sweet, he may have his flaws too, but so do you. However, even if he thought you were pretty or not. He only saw you.

Just you.

He saw you before and he sees you as you are now. That’s all that matters. That’s what counts the most.

You smile and shrug at the girl in the mirror and make your way outside. You went down the stairs and out the door through the kitchen. You smiled as you saw him on top of the blanket sorting and laying everything out.

Tom looked up and he smiled up at you. You were wearing some fuzzy socks, with koala bears on them, your gray Mickey Mouse pajama shorts were cute on you, and the dark blue cardigan was a bit oversized on you. Yet you were still the most beautiful girl to him. Tom leaned back on his hands and tilted his head to the side.

You giggled and flaunted the cardigan, turning around like you were showing it off. You danced in your spot with a teasing smile. Tom laughed as he watched you. He sat up.

“Get your cute little butt over here.” He said with a chuckle. You giggled and ran to him. He looked up and brought you down onto his lap. You sunk as he held onto your waist gently.

His hold never tightened on you, it was mostly a lingering touch. You considered he was never rough with you because you felt he didn't want to hurt you.

You knew he could be though…be rough with you. He dated Harper for crying out loud, you doubted he was anything but gentle with her. It was a nice thing to see from him though. He touched you like you were made of porcelain. One wrong move and he'd break you. He couldn’t though, he couldn’t break you. Not anymore, you were far along from the broken girl you used to be. You fought through it and now you weren’t broken, you were whole, and you were happy.

Tom made you really happy.

You brought your hands up to his face and caressed his skin. The smile he loved seeing on you reached your eyes. You were beaming.

“Hi.” You giggle.

“Hi.” Tom’s eyes crinkled. His voice sounded relaxed. He couldn’t help but admire the light of the moon shining down on you. Lighting up everything he loved about you. He leaned in and pressed his lips onto yours. He pulled back and looked at you again.

You chased him as he pulled back, not wanting it to be over yet. You leaned in and pecked his lips. Tom pulled back in a teasing manner. You kept pecking and chasing him until you cupped his cheeks and let your lips linger on his for a while longer. He didn’t deny you the kiss you wanted.

You both moved in sync, as the kiss got a little heated. Tom removed his hands from your waist and let them rake up and down your bare thighs. It wasn’t long before he brought one hand up to your shoulder and slid one side of the cardigan down. Exposing the thin strap of your tank top and your neck. He pulled back gently and began peppering your skin with wet kisses. Just like back in the library, it was a new feeling that you wanted to experience more of. You sighed as he kept trailing his lips across your skin. You could feel him smile when you gasped. He bit down gently on your neck and soothed it with a lick.

“Tom…” You sighed in contentment as you tilted your head more to grant him more access at your skin.

“Do you want me to stop?” Tom continued to pepper kisses down your neck.

“N-No.” You shook your head. Tom kissed your neck for a little while longer only leaving the one mark on your skin, but traces of where his lips were had lingered. He pulled away and planted a kiss on your lips. You were in total bliss at the moment.

“Why’d you stop?” You smiled gently.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop if I carry on.” Tom sighed as he pressed his head against yours.

“You can’t hurt me.” You shook your head.

“Trust me, I want that with you, okay? I do.” Tom reassured you with a smile. You smiled back but you knew there was more. “But I want to do this the right way. I don’t want your first time to be because you think you have to do it. I want it to be great, and special for you. I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.” Tom frowned.

“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to.” You admitted. “Everything that I want to happen is because I’m letting it happen.” You caressed the nape of his hair. “I know you'll never hurt me, and I’m not saying let’s have sex right now either. But let’s not dwell on what we can do in our spare time. Though I don’t think I’d know what to do.” You chuckled nervously. Tom brushed away your hair. “I’m not ready for anything extreme." You grit your teeth sheepishly.

“You don’t have to worry about anything extreme for a long time or as long as you deem it necessary.” He chuckled lightly at your flustered self.

“I just meant making out and stuff, ya know…” You shrugged. “More dates with you.”

“I like the sound of that.” He smiled and pulled you back in for a kiss.

“Are. We. Going to. Ignore the. Food?” You said in between each kiss.

“Are you hungry?”

“A little.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Alright, I can eat.” Without removing you from his lap, Tom pulled the basket closer and opened it up. “Alright we have some chocolate-covered strawberries, thank my mom for those. Some grapes, celery sticks with peanut butter, and a couple of ham and turkey sandwiches. A couple of water bottles, or soda if that’s more your thing.” Tom shrugged as he pulled the food out. Each one looked to die for. “What will it be, my lady?” Tom kissed your cheek as you eyed all your choices. You reached your arm out and picked up a strawberry. You brought it up to Tom’s lips and he gave in and bit into it. He hummed at the sweet taste it created in his mouth. You smiled and finished the rest of the strawberry you fed him. “Delicious.” Tom muttered playfully.

“Yeah?” You giggled and picked up another strawberry.

That’s how the rest of the night went for you two. You fed each other and indulged yourselves in a game of who can catch the most grapes in their mouth.

You ended up winning.

Tom had attacked you by tickling you until you couldn’t breathe anymore and gave in. You made out a bit more, then he had to leave. It was sweet and one of the best first dates you ever had. Well…it was your first date, and you were glad with how it went. You knew for sure you wanted to do that again.

Friday.

Harper did not enjoy the way Tom just left her in the supply closet. Guys usually didn’t leave her. She was the one who got the last word in and got to walk off. Tom certainly kept surprising her, first his new attraction towards you and now he won’t even look in her direction. Harper was furious, she was pure fire, and people who played with fire tended to get burned.

She was full of hate and in need of getting some payback, and she knew just how to get it…

You were at your locker, taking your time switching out your books for the ones you needed. You weren’t aware of Harper approaching you so it wasn’t before you jumped when she slammed your locker shut. The action causing your books to fall. You cursed silently to yourself and kneeled to pick your things up. Harper got annoyed and kneeled to help you. In doing so you both went for the same notebook, which had you both bumping heads. You both fell back with a groan.

“Ow…” You groaned.

“Oh…” Harper groaned.

You two just sat on the floor rubbing where you collided heads with each other. It was pretty stupid. Only you would headbutt with someone, literally.

You couldn’t help but laugh at what just happened. Surprisingly Harper joined in on your fits of giggles. She leaned forward and picked up your last notebook. She handed it to you, and you took it gratefully from her hand, stuffing it into your bag.

“T-Thanks.”

“Why do you do that?” She asked out of nowhere.

“D-Do what?”

“Stutter, I’ve noticed you only do that when you’re nervous, or when I’m around.”

“I-” You shut up when Harper eyed you. You were proving her right. “I…” You breathed in slowly. “I don’t know, nervous habit maybe.” You shrugged.

“Do I make you that uncomfortable?” She frowned.

“You don’t exactly make people feel great about themselves.” You admitted.

“Oh…well I’m sorry.”

Did you hear her correctly?

“You’re sorry?”

“I don’t exactly have it easy, so I guess I do tend to take it out on others. Especially you, Y/n.” Harper got up to her feet and held her hand out to you. She pulled you up and you dusted your jeans off.

“Thanks?” You opened your locker once more and grabbed your book. You put it in your bag and looked up at her expectantly.

“So I’m throwing a party tonight since it’s the championship game. We’re going to win either way, and you know how Tom plays football and all, right?

“Right.” You nodded. “Isn’t he benched though…” You trailed off.

“Yeah, his coach isn’t letting him play because he bullied and picked on you. It’s really sad, but he has to pay for what he did. It really does suck though, playing football means the world to him. It’s what was going to get him his scholarship. Scouts are coming out to the game tonight to see their star player…yet he won’t be there because he was benched. Poor Tom. There goes his future. You and Tom should come to the party though, it’ll be fun.” She smiled sweetly at you. “See you Y/n.”

Tom wouldn’t get a scholarship anymore? Oh no…

He never told you anything about that. Was his future at risk because of what he did? You knew he never meant it. Yet it still hurts that he might not be able to go to college because of it.

Harper walked over to where Heather and Hannah were. “How did it go?” Hannah asked.

“Hook lined and then-” Harper chuckled as she watched you walk away from your locker in a rush. “We sink her...”

“Principal Johnson.” You knocked on his office door.

“Ahh, Y/n. Lovely to see you. How are you?” Principal Johnson lifted his head with a smile. “I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?”

“Please take a seat, I’m all ears.”

You took a seat and opened your mouth to begin talking.

You were seated on the floor in one of the aisles of the library. Too entranced you almost didn’t hear footsteps running down the aisles. You looked over at the end and saw Tom skid to a halt. He regained his balance and rushed over to you on the ground.

You looked at him with a bewildered smile.

“Hi, there.” You giggled.

“You are not going to believe what just happened!” He rushed out excitedly.

“What is it?” You sat up straighter and set your book down beside you.

“I don’t understand…coach was serious about me being benched. Then again he’s never too serious about certaint hings.” You almost didn’t understand him by how fast he talked. “T-This is crazy!” He smiled brightly.

“Tom.” You laughed, urging him to tell you the news.

“Right sorry. I’m not benched anymore. Coach says I get to play tonight’s game…” He furrowed his brows still not fully aware of how he was allowed to play all of a sudden. He seemed to enjoy the pressure being off him.

He frowned and looked down at his lap. You took notice of his change of demeanor. “What’s wrong?” You scooted closer to him.

“I get to play again.”

“What’s wrong with that? You love playing football.”

“I just don’t know if I want to anymore. Being quarterback had its perks, yeah, but it all came with the weight of having to carry the team on my shoulders. There was too much pressure put on me. I knew coach put on the whole tough love front, but I didn’t like it. And trust me I don’t think I want to read or learn another playbook again.” Tom laughed at the end.

Oh no.

“You don’t want to play anymore…” You looked away from him. You royally screwed up.

“I don’t know. I mean a lot has changed since…” He trailed off.

“Since you’ve been with me.” You looked up.

“Being with you has been the best thing that’s happened to me. It overrules being back on the team.” He grabbed your hand and traced soothing circles on your skin.

“Really?” Your heart fluttered at his words.

“Really.” Tom leaned in forward and pecked your lips slowly.

“I think you should though. Play tonight’s game. It is the championship game after all.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. I missed a whole week of practice. I don’t even think they can do that. Let me play.” Tom leaned back against the shelves. Silence fell over the two of you before he spoke up. “This wasn’t my dream growing up.”

“Playing football?”

“Yeah. I mostly did it because Harrison decided to try out. He, of course, convinced me enough. So I went to the tryouts.” He scoffed as he remembered that day. “I was scrawny and still wore braces. Imagine that. Most of the seniors during freshman year laughed at me, but I tried to not pay them any mind. They bullied me.”

“I remember that.” You played with his hands. “They’d push you up against the lockers. They’d hit you.” You frowned.

“They couldn’t hit me hard enough to stop me from joining.” Tom admitted.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too for what I did to you.” He tilted his head to the side to look at you.

“What did you want to do?”

“As stupid as it may sound. I wanted to act. Be in the school play.” He shook his head at the thought.

“It’s not stupid. I could see it.” You offered a smile.

“You’ve never even seen me act, how could you possibly see me as an actor?” He chuckled.

“I can see it.” You shrugged, repeating your words.

“Okay, what about you? What does Y/n Y/L/N want to be when she grows up?”

“Mmmm.” You hummed. To be honest you never really thought about it that much. There was always the fear of dying too soon, that you thought you’d never get the chance, and you had no idea what you wanted to do with your life. “I never really gave it much of a thought.” You continued to play with Tom’s hands. “Getting through chemotherapy, and putting up the biggest fight was all that I really thought about. School and seeing the next few months were only just a second thought.”

Tom smiled sadly as he thought about how hard it must’ve been for you. How a life with you was a 'live in the moment' ordeal. That at some point you'd both have to let the truth sink in eventually. That you wouldn't be with him in the future. That he'd have to continue on without you “Well, whatever you decide to do, you’re going to be great at it.” He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple.

The bell rang over the intercom signaling the end of the day. You unwrapped yourself from his embrace and stood up holding a hand out for him to take. He grabbed your hand and stood up, but not before hoisting your backup up and onto his shoulder.

“Are you ever going to let me carry my bag?” You shook your head.

“We'll see.” He gave you a cheeky smile. He held onto your hand tugging you forward as he walked backwards.

You both headed home after school had ended. You were sitting at your desk finishing up some homework you wanted to get done. Tom didn’t show up to the game.

He didn’t want to play and you respected his wishes. You were sad that you had practically begged the principal to let him play.

Mr.Johnson was hesitant but after some explaining on your behalf he gave in, now you were starting to think it was all for nothing. But Tom telling you he never truly wanted to play football gave you some ease. You closed up your math textbook and swiveled around in your chair to face Tom who was reading a book you got him hooked on, on your bed.

“We should do something fun tonight.” You suggested gently. Tom put the book down and gave you his attention.

“What did you have in mind?” Tom scooted closer to the edge to sit down in front of your chair. He smiled as he grabbed ahold of the sides of the chair and pulled you forward to him. The chair slid across the floor causing you to squeal.

You smiled gently at him. “Let’s go to a party.”

Tom’s eyes widened in surprise, not expecting the word 'party' to come out of your mouth. “Yeah, we can do that.” He nodded, unsure of himself.

Harper raised her pom-poms in the air as Harrison ran the winning touchdown. The buzzer went off and the announcer cheered through the microphone.

“Cyclones win, cyclones win!”

Harper screamed alongside her cheerleaders. They all jumped up and down and then ran into the middle of the field where everyone had surrounded Harrison. The blonde was too excited that he hadn’t seen Harper come up behind him. He turned towards her and didn’t expect her to kiss him. His shock washed away as he gripped her waist tighter. Harper pulled away to catch her breath then she yelled.

“Party at my house!” She smiled as her classmates cheered and hollered ‘yeahs’ and woohoos.”

When Harper said she was throwing a party. She meant it… Tom put the car in park and stared up at the two-story house through the window. A few buddies of his hanging out on the front lawn. He turned over to look at you.

“We still have time to change our minds. We can leave. We don’t have to go inside.” Tom grabbed your hand and began rubbing your skin soothingly.

“I’m okay.” You smiled reassuringly.

“Okay.” Tom let out a breath of air and let go of your hand. He got out the door and rushed around to open your door. You smiled thankfully and grabbed the hand that he extended out to you

Tom and you walked hand in hand to the front door. It wasn’t a surprise when some of Tom’s teammates greeted him with a warm welcome or a pat on the back. He hadn’t really spent much time around them, so it was a rare sight to see everyone be so friendly with each other.

A few of them glanced your way. Some raked their eyes up and down your figure while a few of them only smiled and nodded at you. You only responded with a smile and let Tom lead the way into the house. The music instantly blared in your ears. You weren’t used to hearing such loud music, so out of instinct, you gripped Tom’s hand and practically attached yourself to his back. His response to this was to pull you closer and plant a kiss on your temple. Both of you managed to move around and through all the intoxicated and grinding bodies.

It was quite a sight to see. You swore you’ve never seen a girl throw herself back onto a guy before, but there was a first time for everything right?

Harper watched from the top rail that was placed in between the two staircases. She smirked as she watched everyone having a good time. Her parents were gone for the weekend, so everything was going according to plan…well at least until…

“Look who decided to show up. Three o’clock.” Hannah gestured down below to you and Tom making your way through everyone.

“Well, at least we now know why he wasn’t at the game.” Harper sneered and looked at you with hatred.

“Who cares now, at least she got him to come.” Heather perked up.

“Plan ‘get Tom back’ is in motion.” Heather placed her hands on the rail and smirked.

“Now all we need is to separate the two.” Harper stated. The girls paused for a moment to think. A lightbulb had gone off in Hannah’s head suddenly.

“I got the perfect idea!” Hannah smirked. “She won’t know what hit her.”

A few heads turned your way as you held onto Tom. The chatter and whispers quickly happened as you reached the kitchen. Tom kept walking with your hand in his as he observed his choices for a drink.

A beer would have been his go-to drink. A grab and take, but he was here with you. You were at your first party, and if anyone was to get drunk it was going to be you. All he wanted at the moment was for you to have a great time, drunk or not. He didn’t want you to worry about anything else other than your own enjoyment. He was a bit skeptical that you had wanted to come to this. Let alone come to a party thrown by Harper. Her name screamed all over this. He knew you, you were down to earth and preferred to stay inside or go to the park if that’s what you wanted. You wouldn’t have come to this if there was a catch. Right?

You watched as he picked up a beer bottle, and then set it down quickly.

“Don’t want to drink?” You smiled and questioned him.

“Not tonight.” He smiled and stepped up to plant a kiss on your lips.

“You sure?” You furrowed your brows.

“Yes, I’m sure. Why don’t we get you a drink instead.” Tom turned back to the counter and observed a couple of soda bottles.

“Okay, just no alcohol please.” You smiled gently.

“Of course.” Tom looked around the kitchen and spotted the red solo cups.

Perfect, he thought.

He walked over and grabbed one. He came back over to you and poured you a good amount of Sprite. He tasted it first to make sure it wasn’t spiked then came it back to you.

“This cup is your new best friend.” Tom smiled as he heard you giggle. “Perfectly suitable to hide any drink of your choosing, alcohol or not. Plus, it makes for the perfect prop to blend in with everyone else.” He motioned to everyone who was holding a red cup. “No harm, no foul. You have one of those in your hand.” He gestured to your cup. “No one will question you one bit…” Tom caressed your hair behind your ear.

You stared at him thoughtfully. No one would ever go through this much for you. Yet Tom has. He brought you comfort, he made you feel safe. Even at a party full of drunks. You pecked him sweetly on the lips.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Tom hummed as he kissed you tenderly.

This time you decided to lead the way. You found a couch that wasn’t full and decided to sit on it. Tom followed your lead and leaned back on the coach. He rested his arm behind your head. You enjoyed being here with him. People were enjoying themselves and the music was good apart from it being blasted through the speakers. The night was great. For the most part…

As far as alone time with Tom went, it seemed to be cut short.

“Yo Tom!” Tom glanced up to see Harrison and a few of his friends make their way towards you. “Tommy boy. There he is!” Tom stood up to greet Harrison. “How are you mate? We needed you out there tonight.” Harrison swayed in place. He patted Tom on the cheek.

“I think you did just fine without me.” Held onto his best friend.

“Come hang with us, the boys are doing keg stands you gotta come do it, man.” Harrison smiled.

“I can’t.” Tom whispered tilting his head slightly at you.

“Pshh.” Harrison pushed Tom out of the way and spoke to you. “You don’t mind if we steal him for a second love, do you?”

“Oh uh, I guess not…” You were about to open your mouth again but Harrison beat you to it. “Great, be back in a sec.” Harrison stood behind Tom and pushed him toward the backyard door.

Tom threw out slight curses at Harrison. “I’ll be back, just stay there!” He managed to say over his shoulder as he was being dragged outside.

“Okay.” He was already far away from a hearing distance. “I’ll be here…” You slumped your shoulders and took sips from your drink. You never knew loneliness until now as you watched people chatter amongst themselves. Tom had friends whereas you did not. You shrunk in your seat wanting to turn invisible all of a sudden.

Harrison ushered Tom to the center of his friends as they got outside.

“Guess who showed up boys. Tommy boy is back!” Tom closed his eyes and smiled as people hollered and cheered him on. He looked around the backyard. The party was even more in swing than it was inside. Friends and classmates of his either making out or diving into the pool.

“Not enjoying the party?” You lifted your gaze from your lap. It was Harper with a smile on her face.

“Oh no, I’m enjoying myself, you outdid yourself.” You chuckled nervously. Harper gave you a pointed look which caused you to give in. “Okay…maybe not as much as I’d like.”

“Tom ditch you?” She asked curiously. She looked around the room full of sweaty drunks.

“No, he uh…Harrison took him somewhere for a second.” You scratched your head with your finger. “He should be back in a bit.”

“Of course he did.” Harper giggled. “Well, why don’t I keep you company while you wait? Girl time right?” Harper situated herself next to you.

“Thanks.” You smiled gratefully at her.

“No problem. You know I underestimated you Y/n.” Harper leaned her head against her hand that rested against the sofa.

“How so?” You furrowed your brows.

“Didn’t think Tom could get you to come out tonight. You keep to yourself a lot. I thought you’d refuse to go out.” Harper smiled gently. As you gave her your full attention you didn’t notice Hannah walk by and spike your drink.

“He didn’t have to convince me.” You paused as you raised your cup to your lips. Harper eyed you as you drank from the cup.

“He didn’t?”

“Nope.” You said as you lowered the cup. “You invited me.” You smiled sweetly at her. “I wanted to come tonight. I thought it’d be fun.” You nodded.

“Glad you did.” Harper nudged your arm playfully. “The party is just about to get better.” Harper said under her breath.

“Huh?”

“Oh, nothing.” Harper laughed. You eyed her then brushed it off with a chuckle of your own. "You have fun okay." Harper got up and bid you a goodbye.

Tom stood with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a beer.

A few girls in their bikinis gave him a flirty smile as they passed him and his buddies. He turned away immediately, already wanting to get back to you. Harrison noticed and smirked.

“You should get with that.” Harrison suggested as he watched the girls walk away.

“Funny, Haz.” Tom shook his head as he sipped the beer he was given.

“Oh come on lighten up will ya.” Harrison patted him. “How about a little competition?” Harrison knew Tom could never resist a ‘friendly’ competitive game of who can down all their drinks first.

“I’m sorry, no.” Tom chuckled, refusing to play.

“Don’t be such a buzzkill. We’re having a good time.”

“Really? Because I’m not.” Tom scowled as he eyed him and the guys. He scoffed and walked back inside to find you.

Once he was back inside he instantly regretted leaving you alone. There you stood with your shirt off on top of the table. Dancing to the music. What made everything worse was how everyone was videotaping you. And the thing that pissed him off the most was the fact Harper was the closest one to you and she was letting this happen.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved and pushed his way to the front. Harper immediately noticed him and began speaking.

“Wow, and here we were thinking she was such a priss. When in fact she’s a party animal!” She shouted.

“Shut up, Harper!” Tom growled at her. He looked around the dining table in search of your shirt. “Where’s her shirt, Harper? Huh, where is it?” When she didn’t respond he turned toward you and got you down from the table. Much to your protest. He stripped his jacket off and put it on you.

“T-Tom!” You slurred as he struggled to enter your arms through the sleeves. The music cut off and everyone watched as Tom hurried to button up his jean jacket on you. Once you were decent again he turned towards Harper, and if it weren’t for how close you were to him. You wouldn’t have felt his body tremble with anger. You grew quiet immediately.

“You got her drunk.” Tom breathed in deeply. “Are you serious!” He scowled at her. Harper flinched as she stood her ground.

“She wanted to have fun...” She shrugged. Her tone of voice was innocent.

“No, don’t be so coy. You planned this, didn’t you? You wanted to get her drunk to humiliate her.”

“Hey don’t put this on me, she was the one drinking.” Harper raised her hands in defense.

“Bullshit! She never wanted to drink, I gave her soda, not alcohol. You gave her that!” Tom pointed a finger at her.

“You don't have proof that I did such a thing, Tom,” Harper smirked.

“What do you want from me, Harper? I’m not yours, I never was.” Tom slumped his shoulders in defeat. “The one time I’m finally happy, you decide you want to take that away from me. I’m happy, don’t you get that!” Tom’s eyes became watery. “I’m happy, Harper. Happy. Y/n makes me happy!” Tom glanced back at you with a heartbroken expression then back at Harper. “Get over yourself already.” Tom shook his head. “I don’t want to be with you. I never did!”

“Well, I did!” Harper glanced down in shame avoiding people's eyes on her. She swallowed nervously. Her guilt was building up. “I loved you. Okay, why her? Why not me?”

“That’s just it, Harper. Because she isn’t you! She doesn't get someone she hates drunk just to humiliate her.”

“I’m sorry...” Harper frowned, slowly handing back your shirt with despair and shame. Tom scoffs snatching it back from her.

“Stay away from us, Harper.” Tom wrapped his arm around you and led you out of the house in no time. As you both reached your side of the car, you placed your hands on your stomach and hunched over the bushes. Tom held your hair back and rubbed your back soothingly.

“Let it all out. I got you.” Once he was sure you threw everything up. Tom opened the passenger door and let you sit down for a minute. He opened the back seat and got a hoodie. He used it to wipe your mouth.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered as he caressed your hair back and continued to wipe your mouth.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Tom stared at you. “If anything I’m sorry. That I left you alone.”

“Not your fault.” You frowned. “Can you take me home?”

“Yeah.” Tom leaned forward and kissed your head. You put your legs inside the car and he closed your door for you. Tom got in himself and started the car.

So much for your first party.

Saturday.

The following morning you woke up with the worst hangover. At least now you could tell people you’ve had one.

You were expecting your mom to tell you something but she did anything but that. Tom had explained what happened and you barely remember her hugging you. She sent you off to bed. Now you were awake and ready to start your day. You had wasted away the time in bed for a bit before you mustered up the energy to get up.

The smell of bacon and eggs caused you to be a bit queasy as you went downstairs, but it went away.

Tom had come over to watch you since your mom was doing some errands. He smiled as you dragged your feet over to one of the stools and planted yourself on it. You had closed your eyes.

“Hi.” He laughed.

“Shhh!” You silenced him. Your head was pounding.

Tom bit back a laugh. He quickly placed two ibuprofen pills in front of you and a glass of water. “Here it’ll help with the migraine.”

You opened your eyes and saw the pills. You took one at a time and downed them with the cold water. You closed your eyes as you hummed in satisfaction. Tom couldn’t help but find this side of you adorable. He walked around the island and came over to your side.

��You okay?” He pushed some hair away from your face.

“Apart from being hungover…yes I’m fine. Thank you for taking care of me.” You hummed in delight as he cupped your cheeks and pecked your lips.

“I’d do anything for you.” You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Shockingly no video of you was posted online.”

“Really.” You were physically relaxed. "That's good to know."

"I'm sorry about Harper."

"It's okay...can't imagine what she's going through if she feels the need to take it out on someone."

"She shouldn't have done that to you regardless..."

"It's water under the bridge..." You rest your chin on your palm. "Now what's for breakfast?"

"Eggs-"

"Yes..."

"-Bacon-"

"You do love me-" You laugh.

"And pancakes, with possibly some fruit involved." He grins at you, tilting his head.

"Oh, I'm gonna love you forever." You sigh in bliss.

He didn't doubt it. Despite your limited time together, he never doubted your eternal love for one second, that you would, love him forever. That your love for him wouldn't vanish because even if forever would never be guaranteed with you, not truly, not likely. It was your love for him, and his love for you that would remain.

Now that was true and that was the reality of your story together.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland au #writings by juls #my gif

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bangchansslut6 · 2 months ago

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BIMBO!!

PART ONE OUT OF THREE.

Okay so I'm finally writing this fic!! I want to warn you guys that it won't be the best and probably won't make much sense so I'm sorry for that!! Hope you enjoy!! ♡♡

BIMBO - An attractive but stupid woman (To all my big titty bimbos out there😮‍💨

FUTURE WARNINGS ~ SMUT, Readers father is a disgusting person, reader is a bimbo, reader is a female, reader has big breasts and is called blondie multiple times. Use of slut, bunny, idiot, spit, light choking, clit spanking twice, face sitting, multiple rounds. Chan is referred to as Chris and made him a little freak...Reader gets cat called but Chan is there to save the day. Chan is apart of a gang. DRUGS, ALCOHOL. Chris and Izumi are broken up but get back together. Cheating?? They have a baby together called Ayum. Enjoy!!

CONTEXT

Chris was your ex boyfriend. Why was he your ex? Because your family didn't approve of him. Chris was a "gangster" he rode motorcycles, spray painted, people were scared of him. And when you were younger you had made the mistake of dating him. Since your family didn't like him you left him without explaining which left Chris furious and lonely.

Chris had knocked you up at the first few months of your relationship so when you broke up you had shared custody. Together you had a son called Ayum. He took after Chris a lot. There were bearly signs of you in him but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Chris had Ayum on weekends while you had him during the week. Which made it impossible to avoid eachother.

WEDNESDAY EVENING

It was a late Wednesday night. Chris invited some friends to his house for a drink and a smoke. When they were all completely wasted they started watching some porno type movie. The usual.

"Oi Chris! Howsss..Y/n's new boyfriend?" Said Felix one of Chris's friends making everyone else laugh at how wasted he was. But Chris wasn't laughing.

"Like I care what she does. They look ridiculous together. Plus I heard he's an ass. And he probably can't handle the whole of her." Chris mumbled under his breath taking a swing of his drink. He told himself all the time that he hated you. But in reality. He was a liar.

"Someone sounds jealous-" Changbin poked the bear with a teasing tone. "I'm not drop the topic." Chris barked loudly making everyone flinch. Damm it. He most definitely still had feelings for her. But how could he not?! He had to see her every weekend. And she was hot..like really hot.

FRIDAY EVENING

The house smelled of men's shampoo and colone. Chris had just gotten out from the shower and was now walking around the house while drying his hair. The sound of his naked feet padding against the oak floor the only sound in the house.

The loud noise of Chris's doorbell stopped the peaceful silence. "Perfect." He grumbled rolling his eyes and throwing a tank top on while approaching the door.

When he opened it he saw you standing there one hand holding a baby bag another hand holding Ayumi. "Look who it is? My little blondie?" Chris laughed leaning against the door.

3RD PERSON POV

Y/N stood infront of the dark wooden door. She'd just drop off Ayumi and move on with her day. This was absolutely nothing..she told herself. You are a grown woman..control yourself.

As the door opened her eyes instantly drifted to the man's abs..she was just a woman though.

"Firstly don't call me that. And yes I'm here to drop off your daughter. Nothing else." Y/N said handing Chris the tiny Elza backpack and then Ayumi. "You know the drill call if you need anything and she has everything in the bag okay?" She added crossing her arms.

"Got it. Also what's with the attitude this morning eh? Your man got your nerves popping?" Chris smirked leaning against the door frame.

"That's absolutely none of your business. Now I'm leaving. I'll pick her up on Monday morning. Goodbye." Y/N scoffed saying her last goodbyes to her tiny angel before walking off. Her hips swaying behind her as Chris's eyes trailed down and up her body. Goddamit she was still hot. Why him? And why did he have a boner now..?

Oh he was still such

ASS

I am literally the worst writer ever!! I'm SO SORRY about making the wait so long and the first part not even having any smut!! 😭😭 I'm so sorry for the disappointment and I'll try to write part 2 faster!! Once again I APOLOGISE!!

#kpop #stray kids #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan #bangchan smut #chan smut #stray kids hard thoughts #bang chan smut

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nkogneatho · 1 year ago

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𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄

: ̗̀➛synopsis: You were scared of falling in love but will you change your mind when you meet someone who actually shows you how you are filled with so much love?

#mlist #commission #taglist

—wc: 1.5k

—cw: gn!reader, fwb to lovers (ig), hurt/comfort, mild smut, cockwarming, receiving head, abandonment issues, past trauma, commitment issues, anxiety and crying, fluff, soft gojo, not proofread (its 2 am im sorry)

—a/n: so my mind decided to remind me of my trauma on a Wednesday night so I pulled this out of my ass. Tell me what you think if you read it :)) Reblogs much appreciated.

It fucked you up. Body fragile as a glass, mind clouded dark. The crippling fear emerged on the surface once again. That same old feeling. The feeling of abandoning someone before they abandon you.

You pitied yourself. What a pathetic person to get walked over by all those people. You despised every single decision you made. That included to kindle a relationship with this man.

Gojo Satoru. The strongest, they say. Hair whiter than snow, eyes glinting in light like the ocean waves turn diamond in sun.

He loved you. In fact, he loved you so much it scared you. The anxiety creeped up your back when he said those words to you.

"I love you."

He loves me. He said he loves me. But so did every other guy. He is lying. He'll leave.

Can you blame the traumatized mind to come to such conclusions?

Gojo did expect this reaction from you. He knew you were scared or love and commitment. Although the man felt the need to confess or he were to regret it for the rest of his life. Your knees met the floor with a loud thud, arms hanging like they were a soft toy.

"Do you know what you're saying?" Your voice cold.

"I do. I love you. And I know it's something you never wanted to hear given this relationship—fuck is this even a relationship?" His palm rubbed his forehead, feeling the rough sensation of his bangs

He was right to ask that question. Was this a relationship? You both started as just fuck buddies. You set a bunch of rules (which were tampered later anyway.)

Rule No. 1, no interference with other party's personal life.

Eh. He broke that when he started coming to your workplace with a bouquet of tulips every Monday. He knew Mondays were harsh. So you didn't complain because it did help to get through the rough day. Rule No. 1 successfully broken.

Rule No. 2, dates are okay sometimes but not a lot. Maybe twice a month.

Now, you were the one to alter this rule. Dates might be forbidden but not coming over to his place and treating it like your own home. His place was way more spacious given his generational wealth. It was easier to focus on work in such a silent and lone environment. The rule only got broken when you decided to move in. Well, you would save the time to call him over or you traveling here just to fuck.

By now, he had probably bullied his dick inside you in every single room. You still remembered his words.

"I want to fuck you in every square inch of this house, y/n."

And he did.

He fucked you on the big navy blue velvet layered couch, not giving a shit if your juices stained the expensive material. He'd just buy another one.

He spread your legs and ate you out on the dinner table on that one evening when the takeout took too long to arrive. Your fingerbeds grabbed his head so hard, it might've broken his skull as you orgasmed. He later thanked the delivery guy for being late to which the boy walked out with a confused look.

He made your wrap your legs tightly around him as you cockwarmed him on the kitchen counter. Brows furrowed, desperately wanting to grind. But your locked thighs around his slutty waist, not letting him do so.

Every square inch, he fucked you in. So Rule No.2 was off the table.

Rule No. 3, No catching of serious feelings or saying I love you.

Gojo didn't recently fall for you. He was caught in this way before you realized. Maybe he even doesn't remember it himself when he did.

"What do you mean? You just broke rule 3, Toru."

"Fuck those rules. I don't even know why we had them in the first place. Look at us y/n," he tried to reason. "We never follwed them so don't give me that crap." His voice was elevating to a higher octave. You hated it. You don't like yelling. It triggers the tinnitus in your ear.

Tears started rummaging down your dry cheeks. "Look at me. I know you're lying."

"Baby, I am not. I know it's hard to believe given your past but just trust me on this one." Yes he knew about your previous failed relationships and the effect it had on you. Which is why he took so long to confess. Each day, calculating the outcome. So at some point, he did know how you'd react. Maybe he'll lose you forever.

"Why?" You questioned him. You felt like you were a broken soul. Used and abused mentally. Taken advantage of the innocent mind and abandoned when you were to ask for the real love. You started hating the word love, ironically.

I love you. It sounds preposterous in your brain. What a fool would someone be to ever believe those words.

"Why? Look at yourself," he said.

"I do. Everyday. Which is why I asked the question. I am nothing but someone drowning. But I do not want to be saved. I don't want a savior, Toru! It makes me feel pathetic and weak." By now, you were wailing and screaming.

But he didn't interrupt. He let you scream your heart out. Maybe that was the last option he could choose to make you face your actual feelings.

"You done?" He asked. You were sniffing, catching your breath from all the yelling.

"Toru, all I see myself is as a broken soul. Why would you ever love...this" you pointed at yourself.

"You fool. Look in my eyes and tell me if I lie, but all i see in you is love. It's funny how you hate that feeling yet you're filled with it, y/n." His gaze softened. "You say you don't want a savior. Do you realize you don't need it in the first place. Because it's you who saves others."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember, Ginger was abandoned in the rain when we saw her the other day? No one cared about her but you did. You fed it canned cat food a took her to a shelter. You named her. You cared for her." He intertwined his hand in yours.

"Y/n. I used to wake up every single day in this apartment feeling absolute shit about what happened with Suguru and others. But when you started barging in on random days, that's when I started to feel a little better." You understood it. It is lonely to live alone with your own thoughts haunting you in this big pace.

"You made this house a home. You don't need a savior because you are one." he claimed.

"When did you—you started loving me?" You asked between hiccups.

"Sweetheart. I fall for your every single second. Everytime I wake up next to you. Everytime I see you smile. Whenever you skip on the same colored tiles on the footpath. I love all of you." That is when you realized how selfish you've been. Taking and taking his love but giving none back. He did so much for you. But you were about to leave him in a fear of something that might never happen.

"What if you leave just like all of them?" you asked.

"Give it one more chance. Who knows? Maybe I'll stick around for the rest of our lives." He wore a soft smile as he said those words, affirming you. You started crying again, but this time, it was due to happiness.

"If you never leave, I promise to love you more than myself."

"Oh, baby," he hugged you a tightly. "I love you so fucking much and I am so happy right now."

He pulled away and his lips crashed against yours. It's weird. You've kissed hundred times before but this one felt different. Maybe, because it was filled with love and acceptance.

You came to a realization. You don't know what the future holds. It is not the fear of abandonment that scares you. It's the feeling of you giving away all your love and them not giving any back. You always swam ocean for people who couldn't even meet you at the shore.

But Gojo never left your side. All this time, he was swimming right behind you, concealing you from all the harm. So if anyone's worth the risk, it's him.

Oh. Gojo Satoru. What a beautiful man you are.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk fanfic

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arealphrooblem · 2 years ago

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Mutually Assured Destruction Part 6

Synopsis: Villain x Civilian. Civilian can sense other people's powers through auras but hides this ability. They are terrified of the most boring person at their office job, who hides the most powerful aura Civilian has ever felt.

Part one here

Part five here

Monday morning felt as if Civilian had stepped into a time machine, back to when they had first met Jonathan. His aura, which had faded into background noise, like the buzz of the office lights, had returned to full, painful awareness that haunted Civilian. They could track its movement as he wandered to the break room or the restroom. It felt like having a wasp in the room, unseen but loud enough to make its pretense known.

Lunch hovered over them like a guillotine, the clock steadily ticking towards their doom. It made work exceedingly difficult. They clung to the wild hope that maybe Jonathan would leave them alone now that he had revealed the full threat behind his existence.

They clung to it right up until Jonathan appeared at their desk, cruelly fake smile on his face.

“Hungry yet?” he asked, the same question eh always asked.

Usually by this time Civilian was starving and eager for the free lunch he provided. Today their stomach stayed twisted in a knot and the thought of food was unbearable. Still, they managed a nod and wordlessly followed Jonathan down to the elevator.

When this whole dating farce started, Jonathan was content to let Civilian stew silently in their own anxiety. Over time, as they foolishly relaxed, the silence melded into banter, discussion, even jokes.

Now, as Civilian fell back into fear-gripped quiet, Jonathan talked as if nothing had changed. He asked questions about their day, about their life, to which Civilian gave short, wooden answers. Yes, their day was fine. No, they had no siblings. Yes, their coworkers were always that nosy.

The walk back was quiet, though, almost as if he he’d given up. Civilian felt the weight of his stare as they marched stiffly down the sidewalk, fighting the urge to bolt. The entire time they could only think of all the ways Jonathan could end their life without lifting a finger. Without even blinking. And what if, despite doing everything right, he wouldn’t want any witnesses after all? What if Civilian kept their mouth shut all this time and he crushed their heart on the way out of town?

No matter what choice they made, their doom was sealed.

Tuesday they woke up with a scratchy throat and a headache. A persistent cough followed them into Wednesday and by Thursday they’re whole body ached and the office felt like a walk in freezer. They layered their thicket sweatshirt over their office clothes, too cold to care about professionalism, and headed to work.

They should probably be in bed. Hell, they should in a doctor’s office and then in bed, but what if Jonathan found their absence suspicious and their heart just stopped in the middle of the night?

Time passed in a miserable blur. Civilian spent more time with their head leaned against the back of their chair than doing anything productive. The longer they stayed at work, the more appealing death by stopped heart started to look.

“Civilian?”

Jonathan’s voice sounded faint. Almost like a dream. Civilian couldn’t muster the energy to even open their eyes. The thought of moving, of walking, felt impossible.

“I’ll get up,” they mumbled. “Just . . .just give me a minute.”

A cold hand brushed against their forehead and Civilian jerked so abruptly at his touch that their chair slammed back against the desk, causing their pen holder to topple. Eyes snapped open to see Jonathan leaning over their chair, one hand braced next to theirs, the other pressing the back of his knuckles to their temple, their cheek.

Civilian could no longer move except to blink, to breathe.

Fear pounded like a heavy drum, even through the fog of sickness. Jonathan’s gaze roved over their face — the shadows under their eyes, the clamminess of their skin.

“Come on,” he said, straightening up. “Let’s go.”

“I’m not — I’m not hungry today,” they protested faintly.

His jaw tightened. “Good. Because I’m not taking you to lunch. I’m taking you home.”

“Home?”

Through the haze of misery, panic set in at the thought of Jonathan knowing where they lived. But it didn’t matter. Civilian’s body stood up, pushed their chair in, stood upright in the face of sudden dizziness. Jonathan directed their body like a puppet master to the elevator, out the side door, down the parking lot and into his car.

“You don’t have to,” they protested weakly, their hand pulling the seat belt down with a click of its own accord. “I — can drive. I’ll be okay. I —“

“Hush,” he said and Civilian’s voice stopped. “And close your eyes.”

Their eyes fluttered gently shut, out of their control. Trying to picture the route, keep track of the turns taken, was impossible with their pounding headache. They knew only that Jonathan had turned in the opposite direction of their apartment. Was that a relief or utterly terrifying?

Time stretched and condensed and meandered until the car finally slowed to a stop. Civilian’s eyes snapped open, an unfamiliar street stretching in front of them. To their left was a large house, the kind usually busted up into smaller apartments.

Jonathan stepped out of the car before coming around and opening the door for Civilian. Only then were they released from his hold, able to unbuckle their seat belt and wobble out. Jonathan wrapped his arm around Civilian’s back and escorted them to the front porch, up a set of narrow stairs to the left, and through a thick wooden door.

He made them sit on the couch before disappearing down the hallway. Civilian gazed around the living room.

So this was Jonathan’s apartment . . .

Part 7

Tagging: (sorry if I've forgotten someone, this tag list is getting out of control lol)

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#hero x villain #villain x civilian #enemies to lovers #my writing #not a prompt #fake dating #mutually assured destruction

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burntsaltsblog · 1 month ago

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tw: nsfw, mdni

Chapter Seven

Two weeks later

Sex, food, and sleep. That was all Butcher and I participated in. Rarely did we leave the bed, except for a daily shower, which Butcher insisted we take together. Though I was never one to complain, especially when he held me firm against the shower wall with my legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked me hard and fast.

"Good girl. Such a good girl for me," he'd praise as I lost control in his arms, gushing all over his length the second he told me to. In the past, I had been vehemently against taking directions from anyone. But, as soon as Butcher looked at me with his deep, hazel eyes, asking me if I wanted "Daddy to take care of me," I was putty in his hands, yearning to obey his every command.

Every night, we'd hear from MM, Hughie, Frenchie, and Kimiko, stating that they were ok and out of harms way. MM and Hughie had crossed the border into Ontario unscathed, except for Hughie's tragic fall, which I still found hilarious, and Frenchie and Kimiko had driven to New Jersey. Apparently, Kimiko had discovered the reality show, The Real Housewives of New Jersey and had begged Frenchie to take her to the state where it all takes place.

Butcher and I assured the rest of the group that we were safe as well, living as Ed's only guests in his small inn. And since we were his only tenants, Ed had taken the opportunity to show off his baking skills, making us anything from chocolate scones to apple tarts. According to Ed, he had learned it all from his late wife, Edna, and found comfort in recreating her original recipes.

Butcher wasn't one to coo over sweet stories from Ed's fifty-year marriage, but the baked treats kept him satisfied and uncharacteristically docile compared to his usual irritated personality.

"How much longer do we have to lay low?" I inquired on a Monday night during our third week at the inn. "I'm getting restless; I want to go see the town and walk around."

"Oi, Have I not been keepin’ ya’ busy?" Butcher asked, mildly insulted as he tore his eyes from the small TV in Ed's quaint living room on the first floor. We were watching reruns of old noir films, cuddled up on a pink settee.

My cheeks heated as I nestled further into his side, leaning my head on his shoulder. "No, you've done an excellent job at that...but I'm feeling a bit like a vampire. I miss the sun," I whined.

"Dontcha worry, Ella, you'll see the sun again." Butcher rubbed his hand up and down my arm, keeping me warm as a New Hampshire blizzard blew outside.

"Ella? Who in the hell is Ella? Fuck, I knew you had a side piece.”

"I'm talkin’ about the bird from that vampire show you and Kimiko watch all the bloody time," he replied.

I rolled my eyes as I breathed out a laugh. "You mean Elena? And the show is called The Vampire Diaries, for your information."

"Eh, Ella sounds better," Butcher shrugged.

I turned to him, a bemused look on my face. "Oh, really? Do you wish my name was Ella? No wonder you rarely call me by my name. You don't even like it."

"Come now, love. I see what you're doin’, tryin’ to get me all riled up. Well, it ain't gonna work unless ya’ want a very long trip over my knee."

I couldn't stop the way my legs rubbed together, seeking friction after hearing Butcher's threat. He'd already had me twice that day. But what can I say? I suppose Butcher was right, and I was insatiable.

"Sorry, Daddy," I said, pawing at his chest as I stared at him doe-eyed.

"That's it," he grumbled, standing from the small sofa and dragging me with him. "You asked for it, doll. Good luck sittin’ tomorrow."

I giggled in anticipation as we began to exit the living room, but Ed appeared in the doorway, halting us in our tracks.

"Oh, I was worried you folks had retired for the night. I just finished this fresh batch of brownies, and I simply could not wait for you to try them," Ed beamed, holding a tray chock full of chocolate squares with steam rising from them to prove they had just left the oven.

"Uh, sure. Of course. Sounds lovely, Ed. You're so generous, always offering us your wonderful sweets," I said kindly as Butcher and I retraced our steps back to the settee. Butcher discretely slipped a pillow into his lap to hide the tent forming in his pants.

"One for you, Mr. Butcher, and one for you, Mrs. Butcher," Ed said, extending the tray in front of us so we could each select a brownie. I still wasn't used to being called Mrs. Butcher, and I made sure to turn my head so Butcher wouldn't see how flustered I got.

"I'll tell ya’, Ed. If you keep feedin’ us like this, the misses and I will have to wrap up the honeymoon. I'm afraid she'll divorce me if I go up another size in me trousers." Butcher joked before stuffing half of the chocolate treat into his mouth.

Ed tittered," Speaking of the honeymoon, you all never told me about the wedding. Or how you met, for that matter. I'm sure it's a beautiful story."

I looked at Butcher to take the lead. We hadn't planned out a story ahead of time, so I was waiting to see what improvisation he had up his sleeve.

"Well, gov, where should we start?" Butcher asked, having already finished his dessert when I hadn't even taken a bite of mine yet.

Ed thought for a moment before his face brightened. "The engagement! Oh, tell me about the engagement. How did you propose, Mr. Butcher?"

I stayed watching Butcher as he brushed excess brownie crumbs from his lap and began to speak.

"Well, my girl here loves to see those Broadway shows. So, on the night of our second anniversary, we drove into the city to see her favorite one. What was the name of the play again, love?"

Realizing it was my turn to take the reigns, I sat up straighter, looking at Ed. "Phantom of the Opera. I always thought the show was so romantic, and Billy here definitely took advantage of that."

"That's for sure," Butcher chuckled, placing a hand on my thigh and rubbing it affectionately. "After the show, I took her to The Plaza for drinks. Then, I led her to one of their balconies, where I had hundreds of red roses set up. It was there on that balcony, under the moonlight, that I got down on me knee and asked her to be my wife."

"I didn't even give him a chance to finish the question before I was screaming, 'Yes! Yes!' over and over again," I laughed. "There was no need to think it through. I knew he was the one the moment I met him."

"Isn't that just precious," Ed declared, looking between the both of us with a wide smile. "I know two soulmates when I see them, and there's no doubt that you both were fated to be together."

"I certainly think so," I mumbled as Butcher and my eyes met. We gazed at each other as thick tension bloomed between us. If it weren't for Ed's constant feedback, I would've forgotten he was in the room with us.

A faint ding from the kitchen broke the bubble around Butcher and me, and he casually cleared his throat as I focused on eating my dessert.

"Oh, that's the oven timer!" Ed exclaimed, jumping up from his lazy-boy recliner. "That means my second batch of brownies is done."

"As it so happens," Butcher stood, stretching his arms. "Me and the misses outta turn in for the night."

"Of course, of course. You folks have a lovely evening, and like always, don't hesitate to come find me if you need anything at all."

Butcher and I nodded our thanks and watched Ed scurry from the room on a mission to rescue his brownies from burning in the oven.

"He's adorable," I commented as Butcher followed me up the short flight of stairs to the second floor. "I'm going to feel bad when we leave. He's going to be all alone."

"Dontcha worry, doll. He'll have other guests," Butcher assured me, holding our bedroom door open as I waltzed past him over the threshold.

I hummed faintly, thinking of poor, soon-to-be lonely Ed as I stripped off my clothes and readied myself for bed. A quiet settled over the both of us as I rummaged through Butcher's drawer in the dresser, looking for a shirt of his to steal.

When I turned towards the bed, donned in a dark blue Hawaiian shirt decorated with tall palm trees, I caught the man himself, standing on the other side of the bed, lost in thought.

"Everything alright?" I asked, pulling the covers on the bed back in order to dive under them.

"Yeah, darlin’. S’all good," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his shirt, letting it drape over the back of the desk chair.

"You sure?" I pressed as gently as I could. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I mean, if this relationship is going to work, we need to be able to communicate comfortably with each other. So, if there's something on your mind," I painted on a small smile of encouragement. "I'm all ears."

Butcher regarded me for a moment before turning around, and I surveyed the tension cascading down his back.

Concerned, I abandoned the bedding and circled the bed, coming to stand in front of Butcher.

"Don't hide from me," I whispered, "Please, Billy."

Butcher wrapped his arms around my back to pull me close, and I leaned into his chest and pressed a kiss over his heart, wanting to stop it from beating so erratically. He sighed at the affection and rested his cheek against the top of my head.

He didn't speak, so I took his lead and remained silent as well. If this was the comfort Butcher needed at the moment, then damnit I wasn't moving from this spot until my legs gave out.

Eventually, my eyes drifted close as I relaxed in Butcher's hold. I had come very close to falling asleep standing up when he finally spoke. I didn't know how long we had been standing there in each other's arms, but I disregarded that thought as I focused on Butcher's words, which were barely loud enough for me to hear.

"I stopped wearing me ring around my neck.”

He didn't continue after that, and I wondered if he was waiting for me to acknowledge his statement.

"Oh," I mumbled, my mouth muffled by his chest.

I didn't want to hinder the rest of his confession if there was anything left of it, that is, so I all but held my breath. It was like walking on eggshells, but even the toughest of men sometimes needed to be handled delicately.

"I took it off the night we got here after ya’ fell asleep. Didn’t think it was right to ask ya’ to be my girl when I was wearin’ it."

"Oh," I said again, feeling terribly lost for words.

"I don't-" Butcher hesitated. "I don't even know why I was wearin’ it. For safekeepin’, I suppose. But what was I keepin’ it safe for?"

"Do you ever wonder?" I asked cautiously, pulling back from Butcher's hold to look up at him. "If she'll come back? The police never found a body. Maybe, subconsciously or something, you were holding onto it in case she ever returned."

"She ain’t comin’ back, petal," Butcher whispered, stroking my cheek. "But it's ok. I've moved on. That's why I got rid of the bloody scrap of metal. How can I focus on the future if I'm still holdin’ onto the past?"

I nodded, contemplating what Butcher said as I bit the inside of my cheek. I wanted to ask if, in the extraordinary event that Becca came back from the presumed dead, Butcher would put his ring back on. They were married for eight years, almost a decade, for goodness sake. Why would he throw all that away for someone like me, who he's been in a relationship with for two goddamn weeks?

But I didn't want to beat a dead horse, and I had a feeling that that's I would be doing should I voice my concern. Butcher cared for me too much to admit that he'd leave me for his reincarnated wife.

"But speakin’ of movin’ on," Butcher stated, pulling me from my rambling thoughts. "I want ya’ to be the one I move on with."

"What do you mean?" I cocked my head. Isn't that what was already happening since he'd asked me to be in an established relationship?

"Well, I guess all that talk down there with Ed tonight got me thinkin’ about things. About us. About our future."

"Our future?"

"Yeah."

"What would a future for us look like?" I ran a hand down his bare chest.

"Well, after we kill every evil supe cunt that's ever walked this bleedin’ earth, I thought we could get married."

Butcher peered at me intently to gauge my reaction as he broke the barrier on the subject of marriage.

I rolled my lips together as my eyes nervously found his. "You're not like proposing now, are you? Because I've got to say, you really set the bar high with that bullshit proposal story you told Ed down there."

Butcher chuckled, "No, darlin’, m’not proposin’. What kind of a wanker proposes without a ring? All I'm sayin’ is that after all this shite is over, I want us to be together. Long haul and all that."

The side of my mouth curved up as I listened to Butcher describe his dreams.

"We could buy a nice fuck off house in the country somewhere, you know? So we can finally get some peace, and you can go outside and see the sun whenever ya’ like,” Butcher continued.

"And, if you're up for it, we could start a family."

I had to work hard at swallowing the lump in my throat as Butcher's hand came to rest on my lower stomach, both of us imagining what a little bump would look like there—proof of our devotion to each other.

"Billy," I croaked as my eyes burned with unshed tears.

"Ya’ don't gotta say anythin’ right now, love. I don't wantcha to feel pressured into-"

"No," I interrupted. "No, I want that, Billy. I want all of it. Everything you said. I want to marry you and build a home with you."

I placed my hand over Butcher's, which was still on my belly. "I want to have a baby with you."

I lost control of my tears, and they fell freely over my cheeks. I saw Butcher's eyes fill with his own emotion, and he swiped my tears away before bringing me in for a kiss.

"I love you," he whispered against my lips, and I inhaled sharply, pressing my mouth harder against his.

The kiss was heated, filled with emotions and confessions that we were finally letting free.

I drew back as I traced my fingers over every beautiful line on Butcher's face. "I love you too. So much."

"Fuck, I don't deserve ya’," Butcher shook his head, now swallowing a lump that was in his own throat. Unable to say anything, he brought his mouth back down to mine, wanting to express his feelings physically if he couldn't do it audibly.

"Want you," I plead as Butcher's mouth traveled down my neck, sucking and nipping to mark me as his. "Need you."

"I'm gonna ruin you," Butcher promised, voice like gravel. "I'm gonna fuckin’ ruin ya’ for every other fucking man."

I had no problem with that, and I jumped, wrapping my legs around his middle, groaning when both his hands groped my ass, kneading the soft flesh.

Butcher threw me down on the bed before unzipping his dark jeans. I followed his lead and unbuttoned my shirt, tossing the clump of fabric to the end of the bed, totally forgotten.

"Take them off," Butcher instructed, pointing a finger toward my white lace panties.

"Yes, Daddy," I obeyed, pushing my hips up to easily slide the underwear over my thighs and down my legs, never breaking eye contact with Butcher the entire time.

"Look attcha, followin’ Daddy's orders," Butcher uttered possesively, leaning over my frame, causing me to lay down on the bed so he could tower over me. "But s’not because you're a good girl, is it? No, it's because you're a needy little whore who's so desperate for Daddy's cock that you'd do absolutely anythin’. That's the truth, ain’t it, doll?"

I gripped the sheets as I felt my core clench around nothing, desperate to be filled to the brim.

"I think I asked ya’ a question, sweetheart," Butcher said, running his hand down my neck before wrapping his long fingers around my throat, physically stating his dominance over me.

"Yes, Daddy, it's the truth," I mewled, beginning to pant as if I were a bitch in heat, preening to be fucked.

"And what truth is that?" Butcher pressed, applying pressure to my neck, cutting off the blood flow to my brain. My head grew fuzzy, and a dopy smile covered my face as I gave Butcher the answer he was waiting for.

"I'm a needy little whore who's desperate for your cock, Daddy."

"Fuckin’ look at ya’.” Butcher observed my body. "I bet you'd let me do anythin’ to you, huh? Just Daddy's little toy who he can fuck however he wants."

I wrapped my legs around Butcher's waist and ground up into the hard-on he was sporting through his boxers.

"Did I say you could do that, princess?" Butcher reached around to smack the side of my thigh. The lasting sting caused me to moan, pressing harder against his covered shaft and relishing in the friction against my throbbing clit.

"Can't wait," I whined, blinking up at him helplessly. I was beyond the point of being embarrassed at how pathetic I looked.

"God, you really are a slut. I can feel ya’ makin’ a mess all over me fuckin’ boxers. Eh, drop your legs," Butcher slapped my leg again and I reluctantly let them fall against the mattress, but that didn't stop my hips from lifting off of the bed to find something to hump like a desperate pup.

Butcher slipped his boxers off and threw them somewhere behind him, not caring where they ended up, and wrapped a hand around his length, veins bulging and weighty balls hanging below.

"Show me your pretty cunt, sweetheart," Butcher said, and he barely got his request out before I spread my legs for me, pushing my sopping pussy up toward his face.

Butcher dragged his red tip that was already leaking pre-cum through my folds, and a broken sob left my mouth. "Please don't tease me."

Butcher repeated the same action until real tears began dripping down my face. "I'm serious, Butcher. Please, I can't fucking take it."

Butcher glared at me before grabbing my hips harshly and slamming his cock into my cunt. I gasped at the sudden intrusion and braced my hands on his shoulders to steady myself.

"That's not my fuckin’ name, doll," Butcher whispered darkly in my ear as he began to fuck me harshly.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry," I all but yelled as I hung on tight as Butcher rammed into me unrelentingly.

I reached down to circle my clit, and as a result, squeezed Butcher's length, letting him know that I was going to finish sooner than expected.

"Fuck, you're already close? My girl is more pathetic than I thought," Butcher chuckled.

I could barely process the shame from getting off on being so degraded due to Butcher slapping my hand away so he could work my clit himself.

"Are you gonna come, sweet girl? Cuz I'm gonna come too. And ya’ know what?" Butcher leaned his head down to whisper in my ear again. "I'm not gonna pull out."

My head slammed back against the pillow as my eyes screwed shut.

"I'm gonna come so fuckin’ deep in this cunt that you'll never question who ya’ belong to. You are mine. My girl. My wife. The mother of my children-"

Butcher's hips stuttered, and I felt hot ropes of his cum coat my walls.

My mouth opened wide in a silent scream as I pulsed around his cock, my slick streaming onto the bed sheets as I came, almost violently.

My body was covered in pins and needles as Butcher took deep breaths while coaching me on how to do the same.

"Breath for my, sweetheart," Butcher encouraged, rubbing a hand over my stomach.

"That's it," he said in approval when I took a full breath, filling my lungs with much-needed oxygen. "Good girl. Doin’ such a good job for me."

Butcher waited a couple of minutes before pulling his softening length out. Then, he climbed off the bed and pulled his boxers back on.

"Stay right there, doll. I'll be back in a jiffy." Butcher kissed me on the forehead, and I mumbled unintentionally in response.

He walked into the bathroom, and I heard the sink begin to run.

I didn't have to wait long before Butcher returned with a damp washcloth in hand. He knelt at the foot of the bed and pulled my legs apart, all sexual intentions gone, only the idea of aftercare on his mind.

The warm cloth against my skin was healing, and I felt a fatigue take over my body.

"I'm sleepy," I mumbled.

"Good. That means I wore ya’ out," Butcher teased, standing to take the used washcloth back into the bathroom.

I sat up and retrieved Butcher's shirt, slipping it back over my tired body, yawning as I did so.

When Butcher appeared again, he ducked under the sheets. I didn't hesitate to nestle up to his side, and I made a soft sound of contentment when he pulled me onto his chest.

My ear rested over his heart, and I smiled when I felt it beat slow and steady, unlike how it raced earlier. I was happy to know Butcher was at ease and void of his previous anxiety. And if I had something to do with that, well, I guess that would explain the butterflies tumbling in my stomach.

Butcher ran a hand through my hair, twirling the strands and lightly scratching my scalp as he attempted to lull me into a soothing slumber.

I was almost asleep when a bang rang out downstairs, and as a complete parallel to our first morning here, Butcher and I shot up in bed, gazing at each other, alarmed.

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