#john still didn't completely change and he still wasn't perfect but he DID SOMETHING and he tried to be better

[ahti-the-janitor]

I saw someone saying that it's somehow proof Abigail was a bad partner (and proof of her cheating??? huh??) and that she didn't care about John because she only came back after John had a house.

It's not about John having that house. It's what Abigail wanted for them, sure, but it's not like she is with him for that reason or just wants things for herself... no. It's what the house and the ranch symbolizes, it's what it shows and tells her. It shows Abigail that John is finally settling down and ready to give his family stability and not constantly run from place to another. It's a sign to Abigail that John listened to her, finally, and doesn't just take her for granted like he has until she left. It shows Abigail that John wants to change and is putting in the effort. Words could be empty promises but now he has something to show for it. The ranch is a tangible symbol that there is hope and John is ready to be better.

[thesamoanqueen]

Onlyfans

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: smut.

A/N: this one-shot showed up in my mind because of John Cena and me thinking impossible possibilities.

He usually bring it with him all the time, but at home he paid no attention. He had left it on the table to go and do something when the first notification had arrived. Y/N hadn't even looked up from her laptop, too busy with the program sent from Stamford the previous evening and which she was reviewing as always before sending it back to the office. Two minutes had passed and another notification had arrived. Roman hadn't shown up then either, but when the third had been followed by a fourth, Y/N had held out her hand with a sigh. She didn't want to pry, she didn't even want to know, she justs cared about making that sound stop to work in peace and let Roman know of whoever had that urgency to talk to him.

What had appeared on the screen, however, had made her put the laptop aside without thinking twice, pushing her to get up and find out what the hell was that stuff.

She couldn't believe her eyes, it was crazy.

When she found him, he was busy with a box full of old fitness equipments, smile ready as soon as she came into his sight.

- Hey gorgeous – he greeted her and Y/N stopped to look at him, her perfect handsome man.

- Is there something you want to tell me? – she asked, holding back to give him a chance.

Roman froze completely, his gaze serious, back straight.

- whats up? – she heard him ask, pretending he didn’t know or maybe not knowing for real, Y/N at that point was not sure anymore.

- I don't know, should I?! – she immediately echoed him, refusing to prolong that game to place his phone in front of him, the message he had received still open.

Leaving aside what were their habits as a couple, habits that had never displeased either of them as far as she knew, they had established from the first moment they would discuss everything, to be open-minded and fair with their feelings. They had been on a verge of a breakup because of an unspoken nonsense, they had learned from the past and since that moment there had been nothing they hadn't shared, bad moods, doubts, problems, fears. She trusted him, she wasn't obsessed with knowing what, where or who he was with, not even knowing what revolved around him and was proposed to him before, it had never even crossed her mind. She had chosen a man, a good real man, one who wanted a family, with no fear about serious relationship and without warning now she found out an Onlyfans notification on his phone? At home? While she was there working?!

- I didn't mean to watch, there could be anything in there, whatever, but here Ro? For real? and honestly If you have a reason or not, I thought we were better than this- she said, unable to hold back any longer and immediately saw his expression change, an amused smile replacing his worried expression.

- Babygirl, slow down. We got no problem, there's nothing in there I want, trust me. I don't care about that stuff, its shit, I’d never do it when I’ve you – he winked, trying to pull her into a hug, but more he laughed more she tensed.

- ‘kay then what?!

- You know, John did it, an account… boys at work were joking, saying that I should make one too. Locker room chatter, bullshit, sometimes they still get me involved.

Surprised, she looked at him speechless, turmoil quickly slipping away, while his information created a strangely valid picture in her mind about possibilities.

John was a funny dude, strange at times and that stunt had actually made the news. She had seen some clips online, nothing R-rated as one might imagine, but she hadn't connected the two things. And she had never even thought that someone might have thought of doing it, even though she knew of Roman's fame among the fans, rumors, fantasies and the whole package on the most unlikely platforms. In some way it was her job to know what people thought about wwe’s top guy and she played with it to for promotion.

- A real onlyfans – she repeated flatly, staring at him and he gave her one of his billion dollar smiles.

- I'm quite successful, it might work – he joked and she reflexively batted her eyelashes, unable to control herself because yes, he was damn right.

People went absolutely crazy for a few well planted cameras shots, a couple of hits not so family friendly in his ring promos and that salt and pepper in his beard, a video or an entire onlyfans account would not have been simply successful, would have unleashed the apocalypse into the wrestling community. During the production phase, behind the scenes, she too had relied on certain shots, specific set-ups, because she knew they would work. There were things that she too was obsessed with despite having him as her in real life partner. If Roman would have really decided to do it, something direct, focused, if he didn't hold back…

The thought made her turn around, going back without another word.

-Y/N – Roman called her, trying to hold her, but she didn't let him do it, quickly marching towards the front door closet where she kept her purse always ready.

She knew Roman had followed her, sensing heavy footsteps behind her as she walked through the house, but when she finally started to reach for what she needed, his hand tightened around her wrist, physically stopping her from doing anything. He gave her a deadly serious look, his gaze dark as she broke free.

- Y/N it was a bad joke, ain’t gonna happen, don't take it that far – he reasoned, standing there as if no one could move him, searching her eyes.

Those brown eyes that would have made anyone's knees tremble, that had made her tremble too an infinite number of times and for the most absurd reasons, at the right times and not, everywhere, always, from the first moment, without exceptions and that now she saw slowly widen, confused, as she handed him what she had taken out of her jacquemus.

-Here – she offered, her personal credit card ready.

Roman stared at it stunned and Y/N knew she had caught him off guard, because that card never left her purse if he was around, he didn't like when it happened even though she was proudly independent he liked to play the role of her provider. With a deep breath, seeing him froze, she decided to take out the second one, adding it to the first and moving closer to slip them into his pocket.

- Let’s say you can have both, but the show is exclusive – she specified, as if they were really in a negotiation and at that last hint she felt him suddenly explode into laughter.

He throw his head back, perfect teeth showing, eyes crinkling, making every inch of his chiseled face smile.

- Someone woke up possessive – he pinched her when he was finally able to speak again and Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, letting him have that little win.

He didn’t like if someone was too close to her, if someone stared in a way or another, when they hadn't yet been in an official relationship Y/N had witnessed scenes of pure testosterone that would have made anyone run and even today he showed no signs of loosening his grip. She had found the notification of a site notoriously inclined towards certain ratings, messages with it, she hadn't worked entirely on her imagination, but were clearly details his ego ignored, too happy to have caught her.

-If your intention is to keep laughing, I'll take them back – she stopped him, stretching out her hand again to retrieve them, but as soon as she took them off, Roman grabbed her wrist.

- For you the show is free, just ask ma'am

His voice was velvetly soft, as was the touch of his thumb stroking her caramel skin. With eyes fixed on hers, she couldn't hold back a smile, seeing Roman return it immediately when he pushed her against the door.

- Then show me sir – she whispered and he twisted his head, making her giggle before lifting her up.

With legs wrapped around his hips, he carried her to the couch to place her between cushions like a precious thing, a rebellious lock hanging out of the bun. He stood there waiting, hands placed next to her, but deliberately not where he should, his whole body close, but not close enough and for a moment Y/N did nothing but admire him.

He was a charming man, the kind of man who captured attention even without anything special or fancy, he made her hands itch and her stomach flutter like the first time she had touched him and she had no longer been able to let him go. It wasn't just the appearance, but rather his attitude, his attentions, they were a drug, they were addictive and the idea of having them all to herself, having him when out there people would do anything to have a crumb of what she had, it made her feel special, in charge.

-You're playing a dangerous game – he warned her, eyes hovering over her full lips.

-Im pretty sure I can handle it – she replied, her breathing slowing as she saw him bend more.

-I know exactly what you can handle babygirl – he touched her with his nose, with that lock and Y/N felt the taste of him on her, even if Roman had kept himself at a sufficient distance not to kiss her.

From the couch, Y/N watched as he straightened up and grabbed the hem of his tank to pull it up. Her eyes went hopelessly down his body, looking in religious silence at every inch of his torso, as he undressed with unnatural calm. She watched the abs pop out even without oil to accentuate them, broad pecs, dark tattoo that stood out against tanned skin, those lines that she drew with her fingers whenever she could. And then the arms, bent to pass the shirt beyond his neck to which she used to cling, those arms that she scratched as if her very life depended on them, capable of hurting and carrying her around effortlessly, shaped by years of practice and dedication. Her pulse racing, she saw him turn to put away his shirt, showing her his broad back, his sculpted shoulders as he rolled them back to face her and let his hair down. She watched Roman run his long fingers through the messy locks, trying to fix them during that impromptu striptease in the living room, in broad daylight and anything could have happened, someone even broke into the house and Y/N would not have flinched, focused as she was on him.

He was slow, unnerving. What she would do quickly, throwing everything away, he did in slow motion, to push her desire, make her savor everything, drive her completly crazy. Every gesture seemed to require effort, every action was like a ritual, a video wouldn't have done him justice, he was directing a movie and she was the spectator unable to distract herself while his fingers loosened the knot of his shorts to make them hang on the hips. Enraptured, she followed his usually hidden v, focusing on the portion of skin he was revealing and that left no doubt about what was down there. Concentrated, she clenched her legs without hiding, heartbeat racing as he fill the space between them, a dangerous intense shadow on his eyes that made Y/N hold her breath.

- Why you so silent now sweetheart? – he asked, stopping a step away from her, looking down and Y/N raised her head, body tingling as she felt him tower above her.

-Im ejoying it… no words needed – she breathed innocently, reaching out a hand tentatively and Roman bent over once again following the wandering of fingers playing with his lace, tongue running on his lips.

- Hmm no, I think we need a reaction… feedbacks you know, for that onlyfans stuff

His voice, breathing caused another series of shocks through her, the desire to crash her mouth against him, suffocate in one of their kisses, feel his big hands ravaging her now almost unbearable. Roman locked her wrist once more, his grip hard enough to make Y/N throb where she was probably already a mess, preventing her from exploring more than she should, eyes going back into hers, digging, guiding her where he wanted, only where he let them.

-Its good – she admitted without rebelling, unable to concentrate on anything than those two brown pools that seemed to swallow her.

- Just that? – he asked, pinching her face with his hair and Y/N tilted her head, intercepting the trajectory of his lips with greed.

-More than good – she mewed, leaning forward and feeling him guide her to his erection, never breaking eye contact, avid more than ever on having her undivided attention.

- Not enough for me

Under her fingers, Y/N felt his boner awake, hard and she risked something more, a more intense touch, hoping to convince Roman to let her do something, but it lasted just a moment and he pushed her away, standing up straight again to do it himself. Y/N knew what to expect, she knew what Roman was hiding, and yet when he lowered his pants enough to release his erection and took it into his hand, Y/N couldn't hold back a gasp to the mere sigh of his delicious flesh. She saw him so proud, spit obscenely and his smile quickly turn into an arrogant grin enjoying his attentions in front of her who was now struggling to stay still.

Was the kind of show she was sure many people would sell their souls along with their houses for and that even her, despite knowing Roman's abilities, couldn't say was immune. She wasn't immune at all honestly and when he curled his mouth, carried away by the increasing euphoria, eyes still fixed on her, letting go an excited growl, Y/N jumped on her knees.

-Gawd com’here– she moaned sulkily before crashing her lips on him and Roman laughed at her kissing, his hand finally leaving his now tense erection to keep himself balanced.

-That's a feedback – he approved, watching her quickly undress beneath him.

And Y/N might have replied but her body was begging her to put an end to that game, get some relief and before Roman could decide otherwise just for playing around, she pulled him better on top, wedging his brawny body between her thighs. With one hand on his dark locks and the other feeling his cock, she slowly bit his lip asking with pleading eyes and he pushed himself into her palm, tongue ready to invade her mouth. She moaned against him, letting him move his hips, enveloped in the heat of him, in that tantalizing smell of his skin, lost in the exquisite taste of his mouth, until she heard Roman growl and only then she guided him where wanted. None had touched her, neither him nor herself and yet she felt him slip between her juicy folds with ease, in a feral curse that made her cry and pushed him to bite her neck. Holding her hip he enstablished a pace to fuck her opposite of his striptease, messy, rough, domineering, every thrust crushed her down, nailing her mercilessly and making her sweatin agony.

Sometimes she felt like she was a toy in his hands, but she liked that kind of treatment, more when they had already wasted enough time with other games and the thought of someone else wanting that attention was still in the back of her head. She ran her nails down his forearms, marking him, holding on with ragged breath, gasping with mouth open, as he grunted into the crook of her neck, sinking into her dripping pussy in a concert of obscene sounds. And in the throes of her ecstacy, Y/N made her hands roam over his massive back, over his strong neck, even over his ass contracted in the effort to pound her wildly.

She felt a well known fire building suddenly in the bottom of her belly, uncontrollably, like a wave of pure bliss when Roman pushed himself deeper, lifting without mercy her thigh over his shoulder to get a better angle, his balls slapping against her soft skin and she squirmed crying in pleasure. His grip became more possessive, almost to prevent her from run, even though she was now just a weeping mess, folds pulsing and gripping around his dick, heat growing for what was now a marvelous attack until the delirium reached her head.

- R-Roo… ple-aase…

- Ssh come for me… let it go, you wanted it cmon good girl -

One stroke and another, on that sweet lovely spot, his skin rubbing against her hot clit and Y/N closed her eyes, curling beneath him, her mind white, blank and ì mouth open without a sound to leave her soul. She felt him leave a sweaty kiss on her cheek, continue tenaciously to prolong her sensation and also lift her other leg, aiming it in a shameful, vulgar position to conquer his climax now. Stunned by her orgasm, she watched him with passionate eyes, his expression focused, body tense and furious in the last effort and Y/N placed her forehead against his, holding him in place, tightening with a sob around his cock, folds trembling. With all his weight pinning her down, he willingly went for a couple of thrusts, deep, rough, his breathing more and more heavy until it was enough for him too and Y/N pulled him against her neck, feeling every muscle of his thick body tense and his cock twitching until it fills her up.

As always, he got stuck inside her, refusing to come out until he stopped jerking, hands gripping her soft hips tenaciously to keep her in place and only when nothing was left anymore, he freed her, collapsing though against the couch headboard to pull her against him in a sweaty hug, while they caught both their breath. They probably should have rushed to take a shower, but Y/N wasn't in a hurry and he didn't seem to be either, leaving a trail of kisses on her shoulder.

- I was thinking… - she began, sore but with her fingers tracing his arm anyway.

- Gimme ten minutes and we'll do another live

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @reignsangel444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @joannasteez @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @tribalchiefdaily @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @spritelucozade

[wolfybonnie759]

floyd x reader what if you got captured instead of Floyd

you knew Floyd and brothers for a long time the day of brozone I think got separated and didn't want to be a band anymore you did not know where Floyd was going to to be honest you had a crush on him you didn't tell him because you were so shy but you always been around like your best friend but you don't know if he feel the same way you went to travel somewhere and you you was singing thinking about you and Floyd been together but then you heard footsteps and the next thing you know it you got caught by velvet and veneer who are nothing but big phonies who have no talent for many months you've been stuck in a diamond prison you hope Floyd and his brothers are okay and hope somebody will save you from these horrible twins you felt so weak you were pale and some of your hair got white like if you're aged up or something in a little half of your body is Crystal about how much they use your talent for theirs and you saw Floyd's older brother John Dory oh so you and a diamond prison he tried to break the diamond prison but nothing works and you told him to leave of the twins will get him and he did he promised to get help. You really did not like the twins at all well you got a little comfortable with veneer he was not as bad as his sister for some what he was nice to you and he feels bad for you he does not want to really want to use your talent for his great but saying an popular or fortune or more important and he care about his sister. All of all you wish you was with Floyd you could have told him that you love him and more than a friend way if you wasn't so shy about it. Oh you did was just sing a bit you were singing half your heart out thinking about the memories you had when you spend time with Floyd and he was your best friend and your crush and then you went to sleep which was uncomfortable by the way you wish to sleep next to Floyd because his calm snoozing voice always hope you relax and sleep better it just feels empty without him.

When you were just sleeping you hear a noise and you slowly open your eyes to see Poppy branch and Floyd your heart stop when you saw floyd he change a lot his different look make him more attractive but still look cute though but you hide your friend and stop blushing and you told them to get out where they can or else the twins will get them Floyd looked at you in sadness because he told you how much he miss you and it feels awful without you you felt your face burning a bit like you're blushing but you're happy that Floyd misses you haven't forgot about you then when you heard Velvet and veneer talking down the hall leave or hide somewhere there between can't see and. Floyd look at you one more time went somewhere so he will be seen by the twins.

You was shocked is missing the boys that have captured by velvet and veneer they it was arguing about something you wasn't paying attention at all Floyd looked at you and shocked is he the state you're in your hair was almost white completely White you are so pale as a white snow and have your body being Crystal the others saw that too they're trying to do in their best to help you. When the final moment and Poppy and branch and Poppy sisters who got all the brothers out of there they're still in the diamond prison but at least they're out except for you who was attached to Velvet but you were so pale you you almost got nothing left anymore could you feel like dying of course Floyd can't stand around and do nothing and let you die so everybody including Floyd was singing the perfect Harmony and you're not attached to Velvet and you was floating singing it was working it's broke the diamond prison everything was fine except you was Crystal troll you were falling into Floyd catch you. Poppy and her sister branch in his brothers and Floyd were crying upset and didn't save you in time and Floyd was talking about how he wished he could confess his love to you but little did he know you heard that you were listening your face became normal and you had a smile on your face everyone was happy included Floyd and you were blushing because Floyd's love to you then you told me you did love him too so you both kiss and the crowd cheered more than ever and veneer you told his fans and his sister that him and his sister were frauds and told the truth about it but the twins got arrested the everyone went back home and you were happy with your new boyfriend Floyd.

( hi everyone I want to say thank you for liking my post I saw that people like my first Floyd x reader I wasn't expecting to get that much since 4 town or turning red post but anyway I'm glad you like it and to be honest I like Floyd too I guess you could say he's my favorite from trolls band together and. That all I have to say is thank you and bye 👋❤️)

[rosemary-morgan]

John Marston X F.Reader - Revenge is a fools game

Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹

Warning: an angsty one y'all - with a sweet ending

Summary: John is risking everything you two have built just to get revenge. Micah Bell should pay for what he did. Not knowing if John would ever return to you, you suffer his absence every day. But one thing is for sure: you will never forgive him for leaving you…

John Marston X F.Reader - Revenge is a fools game

"John, I'm begging you!" You didn't want to let John go. He was about to lose everything he had worked so hard for. All the effort, all the blood and sweat! Especially the blood! Why was he going to risk it all now? For his honor? For revenge? And what about you? And your new home? Why couldn't he live in peace? The ghosts of the past were catching up with him now, and you knew no matter what you would say, he would never change his mind. "I have to go, Y/N!" You ran after him, grabbing his arm, but you couldn't get him to stop. John Marston was a damn stubborn man. "You don't have to go! John, damn it!" As you got louder, he suddenly stopped and you clung desperately to his arm. As you looked into his eyes, you could see the determination in them. Oh yes, that fire in him had been reignited and it could become the downfall of your story. John reached for your shoulders, gently but firmly. "Don't you understand me, Y/N? Micah has so many lives on his conscience! He's driven us all into the downfall!" "But we have a chance to have the life we've always wanted!" You got louder before bursting into tears, now begging John not to leave. "Please, John… If I lose you, then what? Forget Micah! That bastard will get what he deserves!" But this man was a damn stubborn man. He shook his head as he looked deep into your eyes. "Yes, he will. And I will punish him!" "Punishment is God's business, John!" A loud sigh escaped the young man as he let you go. He saw that fighting would get you both nowhere and he didn't feel like arguing with you. "Y/N, I can't and won't forget what he did to all of us! I beg you, Y/N! Try to understand me!" Before you could say anything, John already stormed out of the bedroom and just left you behind. Your efforts to run after him and call out to him were a waste of time. "John!" He had already disappeared from the house, leaving you alone. Fear spread throughout your body, stretching deep into your guts, which contracted painfully. If anything would happen to him, you would lose everything. For John was the man you had grown to love. He wasn't perfect, but neither were you. With a quiet sob, you dropped to the floor and then the tears finally burst out of you. Micah! After so many years, he was still causing them so much pain. Of course, on the one hand, you could understand that John wanted his revenge. You also wished Micah only the worst for what he had done. There was an infinite amount of blood on his hands. You had seen your friends, your family die and until today you had not completely come to terms with it. But what was the point of chasing Micah now?

��♦♦♦

Days and weeks passed. You didn't know if John was still alive or if his body was lying around somewhere to be forgotten by the world. Eaten by wild animals. Christ, you didn't even know if he was okay or if he was going to die alone! All these thoughts were bothering you day after day. Sadie Adler should be damned! Hadn't she been able to let it go? She had wanted Micah? Then she could have done her own job instead of dragging John into all this shit! After all, wasn't it better to hold on to something you had? Instead of chasing the wind? Oh, if John came home in one piece, you'd pay him back. You were so mad and hurt! Well… you were until just a few days ago. But by now you just wish he would come back to you…

You took care of the ranch and the house as best you could, but it all became too much. Eventually you threw the wet rag into the bucket before sighing heavily and finally bursting into tears. With a quiet sob, you bent over the kitchen counter, holding onto it. Your happiness had not lasted long, and you had dreamed of becoming a mother one day. To raise a child. Here, in this beautiful house that John had built. You couldn't stop crying, cursing the day Micah Bell joined your gang. Him and Dutch Van Der Linde! The man who had used you all, blinded you all. With his narcissistic nature, he had everyone wrapped around his finger, always trying to get what he had desired. It was too late when you realized what kind of person he really was.

You desperately needed some relaxation right now. Hoping to steer your thoughts in another direction, you took a bath. But as much as you tried, you couldn’t succeed. But you had neither the strength nor the desire to continue crying. In the meantime, you were tormented by headaches from all the crying. Your cheeks were already glowing, your eyes were swollen and red. "Oh, God…" With a loud sigh, you looked up at the ceiling, listening to the loud chirping of the crickets playing their song in the field. Instantly you thought of how John had been annoyed by the chirping of the crickets. It had robbed him of sleep some nights, while you, on the other hand, had slept wonderfully to this sound. John had tossed and turned in bed, putting the pillow over his head to muffle the loud noise, but it had never helped him.

You had to realize that your thoughts had nothing to bring out but John Marston…

♦♦♦♦

It was the middle of the night when John arrived at Beecher's Hope with Charles. They had both had a long ride and John could not describe how happy he was to be back home. Back with you and to the life that really mattered. Micah was dead and John was pleased. Now he could enjoy his life the way it was meant to be. John was pretty sure you would welcome him with open arms. But that would have to wait until morning. John led his stallion into the stable. His companion had earned a rest and a good night's sleep. And what Zacharia liked best was when John groomed his coat. But there was still time for that. Nevertheless, John rewarded his stallion with a juicy apple. "Good boy." John ran his hand over Zacharia's face. You could tell the animal was very exhausted and so was his owner. "Our horses are very tired. They have served us well. A man can't be prouder of his faithful companion," Charles commented as he too gave his mare a treat. "Charles, make yourself comfortable. You can stay as long as you like," John said as he turned away from Zacharia. His eyes fell on his house. All the lights were out and you were probably deep in sleep. John had to admit that in retrospect he was a little worried about whether you would really welcome him with open arms. In the end, he had risked everything, put it all on the line. and he would be lying if he said it was easy to kill Micah. John had narrowly escaped death and at that time, your words had immediately come to his mind. Everything had been brought to his mind. How you had begged him not to go, but to stay with you here in Beecher's Hope. John felt bad about that. It seemed like he would never learn from his mistakes. "Thank you, John. I really appreciate it!" Charles would not stay in Beecher's Hope forever. He had talked a few times during the trip about how much he wanted to go to Canada; building a family and settling down there. John wished him all the luck in this world, but he would miss Charles very much. "Good night, Charles." "Night."

John sighed softly as he made his way to the front door of his house. He was about to reach for the doorknob when he suddenly paused. Deeply he inhaled as an uncomfortable feeling gripped him. His stomach tightened somewhat painfully. He was very nervous, but in the end he knew he couldn't avoid a possibly awkward conversation with you; but he didn't want to either. Eventually, he quietly entered the house and made his way to the couch, sitting down in front of the fireplace. It was dark in his house, yet his eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. John spent the night in the living room. But instead of having a restful sleep, he lay sleepless on the couch, thinking about many things for hours. Eventually, he was so annoyed by it that he went outside and got to work. The first rays of sunshine were just beginning to fall on Beecher's Hope as John scooped water for the animals and also bottled water for the tub. He would desperately need a bath after the long ride and after the morning's activities. "Morning' Charles!" "Good to see you." Charles smiled back at him. He had already set up a small campfire, and was brewing fresh coffee. "I'll help you clean out the barn in a minute, John." "No pressure, Charles." Charles could tell by the look on young Marston's face that he hadn't been sleeping. Something seemed to be bothering him. "What's on your mind, John?" John was a little surprised when Charles asked him about his well-being. Was it so obvious that something was bothering him? "Can't fool you, huh?" A soft laugh escaped John, then he sighed and joined Charles at the campfire. "I'm worried about Y/N." "Oh, okay." "Yeah, she was so upset when I went off to hunt Micah. She was crying, begging me not to go. But I… I couldn't give her any consideration." Charles listened very carefully, but kept his eyes on the coffee pot to make sure nothing boiled over. "Micah got what he deserved. But I can also understand why Y/N wasn't thrilled about your trip." John sighed, running his hand over his face. "Shit…"

♦♦♦♦

You woke up the first time the cock started crowing. It was so loud, you couldn't help but hear it. But that was your morning routine. You had slept quite deeply. Lavender must have brought some miraculous effects. You really needed it. As you sat up and stretched your body, you could make out sounds that were coming from outside. You paused, trying to listen, but you couldn't make out any voices. So you got up, put on your fine robe and went outside. You could only guess it was John, and you hoped it was him. And when you saw him sitting by the campfire, together with Charles, you were so infinitely relieved but your legs did not move from the spot. There was still great disappointment and anger inside you about him. You were hurt; of course you were happy to see them well but it could have gone differently. Charles noticed you first and then gently nudged John to get your attention. John immediately turned in your direction, rose from his seat and looked over at you. Silently, Charles watched the whole thing, feeling it was an awkward moment. Neither of you made a move until John broke the silence. "Darlin' I'm back…" A small smile crept onto his lips, but faded when he saw your serious expression. You had your arms crossed, just looking at him silently, and John saw how hurt you still were. "Y/N?" You just turned away and moved back into the house. John could hardly believe what had happened. Not even a simple smile? He had expected that you wouldn't hug him. But would you react so coldly? That hurt John. Weren't you happy to see him? Sighing, he ran his hand over his face, swearing softly. "Fuck…"

Two days passed and you avoided John, but at least you talked to him, even if the communication between you was cold and very lacking in words. John was getting fed up with this. He had tried to approach you often enough, but you had refused to pay him any attention.

At dinner there was again an icy silence between you. You barely touched your food while John finished his plate. It had been a hard day's work and he was grateful for this savory meal. "Would you like some coffee?" you asked as you rose from the table to place the plates away. "No," John replied simply. Sighing softly, he tapped his fingers on the table, looking at you, all tense. A few minutes passed. Silently, he watched you do the dishes. It was finally enough! "For God’s sake, Y/N! How long are you going to play this game?" Closing your eyes for a moment, you paused in your movement. You would listen to what he had to say. Maybe he was finally sorry for leaving you. You had your pride, too, because until now you had always given in when you had argued. "At least look at me, Y/N!" John suddenly stood behind you, spun you around to face him, and held your shoulders so he could look you in the eye. "What the hell is wrong with you? You don't seem happy at all that I'm back! Tell me…" Oh no, you wouldn't let him get away with that statement, but you let him finish speaking. Your heart started pounding like crazy and you got nervous. This was going to turn into a big fight. "Should I have stayed up there, huh? Would you have preferred not to have to bear seeing my face anymore? Say something, Y/N!" He got louder, causing you to flinch slightly. You broke free of his grip, tears welling up in your eyes. "Do you really think that, John?" "What am I supposed to think, Y/N?! For Christ sake! You've been avoiding me since I got here. You keep rejecting me, don't even let me touch you anymore!" There had to be another reason for your state of mind. Suddenly John paused, his eyes narrowed, looking at you closely. "Have you met another man?"

His voice was dark, dripping only with contempt. You were so shocked by his words that you couldn't answer at first. Did he really believe that? "How… dare you, John?", your voice was just a whisper. Shaking your head you look at him, still having to process his words. "Tell me, Y/N! Did you spread your legs for another man?!" He grabbed your arms again and for the first time in your relationship with John, you feared him. Nonetheless, you reached out with your hand and gave him a hard slap. Your tears could no longer be held back and John seemed to have immediately realized that he had gone too far. Reminding himself to calm down, he ran his hand over his face, sighing softly. "I… I'm… I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry. I don't know what… what got into me." "I am so angry with you! You made me beg! I begged you not to go! But what did you do? You put everything you have at risk!" There was so much pain, so much suffering in your voice, and John could now see the full measure of his selfishness. Now, admittedly, you hadn't been fair to him either. "That beast is dead now, yes! But has that brought the others back to life? Arthur, Molly, or Hosea? Young Lenny and Sean! Susan! They're still dead!" You gestured wildly, beside yourself. Everything you had bottled up in the last weeks, months and years, burst out of you. Dutch van der Linde was also to blame for everything. Micah could not be held responsible for every death. "They're deep under the earth!" you said loudly, pointing your finger at the ground. "Dead! Eaten to pieces by the maggots! None of them left, John!" "Y/N…" John had never seen you so hurt before. He was beginning to realize just how much you had suffered over the past few years. "And I don’t want you to end up the same way they did John! Everything we had worked hard for, you risked throwing away!" "I'm sorry Y/N…" "You're an asshole!" you shouted, hitting his chest as tears ran down your reddened cheeks. John allowed you to hit him a few times, because you should let your anger run free. The first step to healing. "I thought I would never see you again! I was miserable, John! Do you understand?! I hate you!" This time he grabbed your wrists and made you stop. Eventually you gave it up too and leaned out to him, whereupon John wrapped his arms around you and held you close. "Forgive me…" The slight trembling of your body was immediately noticed by John, whereupon his heart started beating wildly. He really hadn't been aware of hurting you like that. You just wanted to live a normal life. Far away from the life of outlaws. Away from violence! You could have it all. Here, at Beecher's Hope. John embraced your delicate face that seemed so fragile in his hands. But his touch was so gentle. He looked at you, his cheeks wet, for he too had stopped holding back his tears. "It's finally over, Y/N. And I can live the life I want for us. Without being afraid of old ghosts haunting us." "John…" Even though he could never banish Arthur from his heart. His brother who had done everything he could to give his family a better life. John kissed you; deeply and intimately. Savoring every moment, wrapping your arms around his neck.

A life full of hope was waiting for you and John. You just have to keep your eyes open and reach for the little things. And little by little, something big comes out of it.

[twinsandselfships]

selfshiptober day 6: carnival | haunted

Ship: 🎪 funhouse friends (John Doe & Alexis)

Author's notes: Welp, gonna try our hand at this selfshiptober thing! These are probably going to be short, because it's our first time doing it and we're here to have fun! Starting with day 6 because we're late ;-; ;-; And also because we had an idea related to this prompt! Based on a real-life experience, haha!

On another note, we haven't posted much about our S/Is, but Alexis is more of an OC that we made to comfort John. She still shares some personality traits with us, and she's a heavily changed version of Punchline from the DC comics. The characters change a lot in the game anyway!

"You've never been to a carnival before?"

John tilts his head as he asks that question, and Alexis finds it endearing. She smiles awkwardly and shrugs.

"No, I'm afraid."

"But-- But you have a clown theme! Like me!" John gestured expressively, waving his hands in front of himself.

"To match with you!" Alexis gestured at him. "Not that I have anything against clowns or carnivals, not at all! But I chose this theme primarily because of you, not because I... go to carnivals..." She looked away from him, a little embarrassed.

"Well... Doesn't matter." He shook his head and smiled at her. "Then today will be your first time. It's even better! You'll make so many new, colourful memories! Isn't that exciting?"

Alexis chuckled.

"It is."

The carnival was at the pier, with a giant bright ferris wheel overlooking the seaside of Gotham. You could almost forget it was a late evening, with the boardwalk completely lit even without the need for street lamps. There were a couple other rides, most notably an equally bright carousel, balloons and a lot of stalls selling toys and food. The smell of sweets immediately caught Alexis' attention, and the moment they stepped into the carnival, she dragged John by the sleeve to the churro stall.

"Food!" was all she exclaimed, making John laugh.

They bought one churro each, concluding that they would come for more if they get hungry again. Alexis took one dipped in chocolate, and John took one with sprinkles, a variety that the girl didn't know existed.

"So you've been to this carnival before?" she asked while slowly munching on her warm crispy churro, savoring every bite.

"Yes! Several times, with Harley!" John's face lit up, but Alexis' did the opposite. She tried not to show it, of course. "We, uh, we mostly just... walked around. She wasn't a fan of the rides. Oh, but this one time she agreed to ride the ferris wheel! Can you imagine? It was amazing!" He clapped his hands, and Alexis frowned just a little. "I was showing her all the exciting stuff I found or-- or offered to win this giant stuffed bear for her, one with hearts on his paws. She, uh, never wanted the stuffies, heheh." He scratched the back of his head.

Alexis took a big bite out of her churro, too deep in thought to remember to savor it. She disliked Harley. Not because of jealousy, no-- she'd be happy if John found someone he loved romantically and was loved back. But Harley? She didn't deserve his love. She didn't even love him back! With the way she's treating him. In Alexis' eyes, Harley should be honest with John and treat him with decency. No, with respect! No, with care! After all, he's so devoted to her, he's doing so much for her! She should be thankful!!

Phew, okay. She went on another mental rant about Harley. No time for anger now. Alexis came here to have fun, after all. She doesn't want to ruin it for herself, or for her friend.

Then she saw something off to her side while they were walking around. A strength machine. Perfect. Something to take out her anger on!

"John, look!" She ran up to the strength-checker, leaving John, who was looking in a different direction, to run after her.

"Hold my churro." Alexis handed her pastry to her friend, eyes already locked onto the target: a small punching bag hanging from the roof of the machine.

First try, first punch. She thought for sure she's going to get a high number. But no: 200. Not even close to 999.

"Again," she demanded, and the operator restarted the machine. Alexis was certain she just rushed it the first time. She needed to concentrate, really put her strength into it. John, quickly catching up to what's going on, smiled widely and tensed his shoulders. He was extatic about violence, especially seeing his friends or idols demonstrating their power.

But the second punch was also a flop: 348. Better than last time, but it still left Alexis thinking this game was rigged, like most of these games. She may have never been to a carnival, but she's been to plenty of arcades. Yes, it must've been rigged! She knew she was stronger than that! Or... was she? Alexis looked at John, her eyes filled with sadness and disbelief. Oh no, what if she's embarrassing herself in front of him? He must think that she's not actually capable enough. That she can't defend herself!

"Come on, Alexis!" Contrary to her spiraling thoughts, John cheered her on, slightly shaking the two churros in his hands. "Show that punching bag why you call yourself Punchline!"

That's right. She is Punchline! The name was chosen mostly for theming, but John's encouraging words made her actually believe it could be more literal. At least right now, in this moment. The operator lowered the punching bag again, and now Alexis was confident she'll wipe that smug right off their face (she didn't actually see if the operator had a smug or not).

She put all of it into her third punch. Her anger on Harley. Her confidence given by John. Her desire to prove that she's strong enough.

This time, the machine didn't show any numbers. The operator came closer to check on it, and the punching bag couldn't come back down. It was stuck. It was punched so hard that it jammed or broke the mechanism. Alexis stared at the scene, confused, but also strangely happy. She did this! She did this!

The girl looked at John, whose smile grew even bigger, eyes open wider than a normal resting face would have. He giggled, the way she always loved, and put a hand to his mouth, as if trying to hide this joy.

"We, uh... We better go," Alexis whispered, looking between John and the machine operator, who was still busy figuring out what went wrong and assuring the two that everything is fine.

"Right." Her friend nodded, still giggling. She couldn't help but quietly giggle as well. They turned their backs to the strength machine and walked away, shoulders raised and heads lowered. "Do you wanna hit the carousel?" John tilted his head towards the glowing ride.

"I thought you'd never ask." Alexis smiled.

[call-sign-shark]

Alright Lora, sorry for the delay but I wanted to have time to reply properly to your awesome analysis!! Sorry because my reply is going to be super long ;w;

Tommy is a wonderfully complex character, especially when it comes to his emotional responses and his way of handling grief. I am thrilled you've mentioned how he tends to relies on female characters when grieving (the countless whores he sees following Grace's death, or Lizzie). He wants to remain in control but I feel like the slightest inconvenience would make him throw a fit because it is usually what happens when you accumulate your negative thoughts and emotions.

I didn't want to say anything about it but I am impressed at how you, and a very few other mutuals, had spotted Tommy's attraction for Heaven/Reader. The fact you still remember their first meeting leaves me speechless because it's exactly one of the very scare hints I've scattered in this story. You're talking about this quote I think "He paused, his eyes falling on the pale flesh of your throat he was still holding. The expression on his face changed for one brief second as he started to caress your neck with his thumb, almost too tenderly to be completely devoided of any kind of attraction,"

Your comparison between Grace and Heaven is on point. I've never thought about it but they share ore than what I usually thought. Taking this into account, it becomes even more logical than Tommy isn't indifferent to her. You're so true: I don't think he would have minded Heaven's trouble past if she had met Arthur while Grace was still here. Obviously he wouldn't have been wary, but he wouldn't have started this war against her. Now, we know that Tommy has always been a dick with her from the start, but I think blaming her for John's death was the breaking point. The worst thing is that he knew how close they were, which leads me to think if he really believed a little bit of what he said or if it was only to hurt her as she did when rejecting his flirting attempts. Admittedly, Heaven snapped a bit too bad but hey, who can blame her? 😅

Arthur is an idiot, and, indeed, a miserable character. To be honest, I wanted to respect the character and there was no way he wasn't going to relapse at least once, Heaven or not. Now, considering his relationship with his wife he won't fall as low as he had in the actual show, but it would have been illogical not to consider his drug issue. As you've justly mentioned, this is a problem he carries since he's childhood so it won't just go away like this. But I'm pretty sure she has scared him enough to make him seriously do something about it?? Honestly, you're not sounding like a bitch. Not at all. I 100% agree with you: We know that Heaven is strong-headed from the start. She know what she wants and what she doesn't (for example she didn't allow her relationship with Arthur to go further if he didn't leave his wife first 'cause she didn't want to be the other woman). And, for her, Arthur's relapse had been a painful betrayal. She empathizes with his grief and his pain, but these are no excuses for her and, as you said, he needs to understand how his actions affect others.

I'm laughing so much Lora... I just imagine you behind Arthur while he's having his tantrum like: 🙄. It's true, he's just soooo dramatic I swear! But he actually is in the shows!

Now about your song suggestions!! *rubs hands*

The two Mitski's songs are just absolute perfection. I've got a soft spot for Liquid Smooth. This is so beautiful when linked with Heaven's grief. The lyrics "How I feel this river rushing through my veins // With nowhere else to go, it circles 'round" hit hard.

Unloved Heart is so INCREDIBLE when it comes to Arthur. Whether it is the lyrics or the slow, messy music mirroring a kind of madness, this is just awesome. ;w; You are definitely left with a sense of going crazy from a heartbreak.

Regarding Psycho Killer... WOW I LOVED IT SO MUCH. The sample of Halloween's themes speaks to my horror movie fan's heart. This is just gold, especially with the French additions.. How are you always on point?

The Cazuza's one is incredible. I just loved it so much and vibed a lot while listening to it. I would LOVE to have the translation!! Thank you again for your neverending support and friendship. Sending love your way, darl. 🖤🖤

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary:  John is dead. Your whole world crumbles. Arthur and you are facing your first real argument, and everything grows out of control -- featuring Tommy Shelby x Reader.

Words: 5.8k

TW: Extreme angst - read at your own risk, graphic depiction of violence, domestic violence, mention of drug use, canonical violence, graphic depiction of murder, major character death, self-harm, guilt trip, co-dependent relationship.

Notes:

✞ Read the notes at the end.

Previous || Masterlist || NEXT

The creaking which resounded in the whole morgue when the door opened sent shivers down Tommy’s spine. The infamous Peaky Blinders’ boss was standing next to the mortuary table, staring at the ashen face of his little brother, frozen in a peaceful expression. Although Tommy tried his best to remain neutral, the way his enchanting turquoise eyes gleamed belied his profound sorrow. A sorrow so distressing that he was not even able to express it – instead, his negative thoughts piled up inside of his already decaying heart. First Grace, then John… Tommy let out a long exhale from his nostrils while going on with his morbid contemplation. How many more deaths would he have to endure before his hunger for power was sated? “Fuck, I’m sorry John.” He whispered, softly pressing his large hand on his brother’s muscular shoulder. The sensation of John was cold and hard, even above the fabric of his blood-stained shirt, “It wasn’t supposed to happen.” His hand then reached for the funeral shroud and pulled it over his brother’s chest, which had been riddled with bullets. He did not want John to look weak, even in death. He wished for people to recall his joy and strength, not his troubled last moments. “I’m sorry.” He reiterated, offering a last apologetic look at his little brother before turning around at the sound of someone’s heels beating the cold tiled floor. Tommy’s forehead creased as he furrowed his brows: he had not been expecting anyone now that Arthur and Esme had left.

“Tommy.”

The hypnotizing and melodious voice that called him led him to briefly open his eyes wide in surprise — especially when he recognized its owner. And when he did, his face immediately hardened. It was only seconds later that he saw you walking towards him with hastened steps, rivers of tears still streaming down your angelic face. He didn’t know what surprised him the most though, to see you here in this morgue, to hear you calling him “Tommy” and not “Thomas” for the very first time, or maybe the unexpected way you threw yourself into his arms. In fact, it was certainly a bit of the three at once. As soon as your body collapsed with his, the gangster’s muscles tensed, and his placid expression shifted into a stunned one: your affection had taken him aback.

“Oh my God, Tommy…”  You were crying your eyes out, your face buried in the crook of his neck. He could even feel the warm wetness of your tears on his skin, the little salty drops running down his chest and dying under his shirt. Esme had told him everything. Tommy blinked a few times to chase away the surprise and, gradually, his body relaxed as he felt your frail being snuggling against him, the freezing sensation of your dainty frame meeting the warm temperature of his skin even separated by the clothes you were wearing. He gave you a quick glance from above your head to check if what was happening was true and, finally, he sighed. As his arms wrapped around you softly, you felt like you were falling apart and, ironically, the only thing that held you together at this very moment was Thomas Shelby. The man you hated since day one.

“I’m here.”  His quiet and deep voice simply stated, soon followed by his arms tightening around you and his fingers gently diving into your waist, not willing to let you go anymore. To hell with your mutual hatred, you thought, Tommy had just lost a brother and you wanted to be here for him too. Surely, all the ice of his heart couldn’t shield him from grieving a loved one.

What started as an awkward hug soon turned into a powerful embrace when Tommy indulged in your love. All the resent, all your past arguments, all the fear… The more you were pressing together, the more they were turned into dust, “I’m fuckin’ here.” One of his hands ran up your body only to rest on the back of your head, inviting you to nuzzle your nose in the crook of his neck even more – which was what you did, desperately looking for comfort.

“I can’t… I can’t let him go. I don’t want to.” Your voice was merely a desperate whimper, for the uncontrollable sobbing and the ball of sorrow in your throat wouldn’t allow you to align more words. Another hiccup — The excruciating sadness almost suffocated you when you realized that John’s dry blood was still stuck under your nails.

“He’s gone, Heaven.” His words, stone cold, made you shake like a leaf, to the extent that Tommy was now certain you would shatter if he were not holding you. He started rubbing your back with his powserful free hand, the other clenching its fingers on the back of your head, “Listen to me.” He started, holding you firmly against his strong body: he was not going to let you all apart.

“They fucking shot him! Ces enculés lui ont tiré dessus!” You repeated in French, and of course he understood. He tried to hush your worries down but it didn’t work. Deaf to his attempt to comfort you, you gritted your teeth and let out a frustrated and painful cry. John was dead and your whole world felt like it was collapsing. Your little fists hit Tommy’s strong chest in a weak blow, anger taking over sadness as seconds passed. You were angry at him, at you, at Changretta, at the whole damn world. In truth, your mind didn’t know how to cope with grief anymore, and rather let you experience various emotions to test which one hurt the less. In response, the gangster restrained your movements by hugging you tighter and then, he brought his lips near your ear to keep you focused on him and only him.

“Hey, listen to me now.” He said with a firmer tone, catching your attention. You glanced at him and froze, realizing how dangerously close his face was, “I want you to calm down. You’re a fucking Shelby.” Despite his harsh words, Tommy’s tender caresses made amends for his toughness and managed to dry your tears up. His palms, then, wandered on your back and shoulders, stimulating every nerve of your quivering body to anchor you to reality, “There. Better.” He finally praised you, warming up your body with the sole power of his touch and rubs. Feeling calmer, you sniffed a little bit and tried to focus on the musky yet delicate fragrances of his cologne rather than on John’s corpse that was lying a bit further from you.

“Better.” You softly replied, surprisingly lulled by little King Shelby’s presence. A real miracle. Once comforted, you decided it was time for you to move your body from him and break the embrace though. After all, Tommy and you had never got along. Plus, you were pretty sure he wanted this to end as quickly as possible now that he had done his in-law duty. But, somehow, a little part of you still hope for this moment to improve your relationship from now. Maybe things wasn’t that hopeless? You were about to move but the gangster didn’t let you leave him. Quite the contrary, he pulled you closer until your breasts flattened against his chest and your cheek rested on his collarbone. Surprised, your lips parted but no sound came out.

“Stay.” Even though he did not mean it, his tone sounded like an order more than a request. Truth was, he couldn’t control it – the way his heart had quickened at the physical contact he was sharing with you unsettled him. As much as the thought that you came to him for comfort, not to your husband. Under the crushing weight of something he couldn’t name, Tommy delicately rubbed his perfectly shaven cheek against yours and buried his nose in your long white hair to get himself drunk with your spring-like perfume, “I’ll keep you out of sorrow, if you ask me,” He whispered, shutting his eyes tight and deepening his embrace again, until it became slightly painful. His thoughts swirled in his restless mind, and between plans for the Vendetta and the grief of John’s death, there was you. You and your intoxicating perfume. With his breath quickening and his lower lip trembling, Tommy allowed himself to sink into your softness, “And you’ll keep me out of it.” His husky voice was merely a murmur only you could hear. A soft whisper even the Grim Reaper, who was leaning over John and contemplating about where he was going to send him, did not catch.

“What do you mean?” You bated your doe lashes, confused at this sudden passionate demonstration of affection. But Tommy didn’t reply. In fact, he did not even hear a word you said for his mind was trying to cope with the overwhelming feelings and sensations that were drowning him. He felt like a sailor thrown into a raging see, desperately trying to keep his head above the water, and the only hope for him to survive was to cling onto you as hard as he could. The truth was it felt so good to have you in his arms, blessed with your holy and calming aura, that he had momentarily forgot what pain was like. For a split second, colors came back in his black and white life – something he hadn’t experience since Grace’s death. Letting out a relieved sigh, Tommy gently pulled his face away from you only for his mesmerizing turquoise eyes to dive into your celeste iris.

“It’s going to be alright, Tommy. It’s not your fault.” You stuttered, trying to comfort him too despite being slightly confused by his intense stare. Nevertheless, you could not help but commiserate with him, grief being one of the most universal human feelings to share. United in pain, you offered him a faint smile. The fearful gangster replied with utter silence – struck by the fact that he loved how his nickname sounded in your mouth. Only his brows frowned slightly as he watched you for the very first time: your big fair eyes, your long lashes, your plumped lips, the way your snow-white hair reflected the dull lights of the morgue… Last time he recalled having stared at you like this was during your first meeting, when his hand was wrapped around your throat. Worried by the unfamiliar ways he was looking at you, your little cold fingers grazed one of his hollow cheeks as softly as a feather’s caress to bring him back to his senses. A surge of electricity ran through his soul at the skin-to-skin contact. You touched him and, all of sudden, Tommy understood Arthur. He understood what he meant when he told him you were an angel. And after the epiphany came a moment of madness.

“No, it won’t.” He admitted with a sad tone you never suspected he was capable of. At his words, he finally gave in and broke the distance between your lips. Life flashed before your eyes, your brain momentarily ceasing to function at the soft press of his mouth. Tommy’s hand had wrapped itself around the back of your neck, keeping you from moving your face with one thick and strong palm. His kiss, eager but indescribably sensual, made your heart miss a small beat. It took you two solid seconds to realize what was happening, and one extra to push him away from you as he started to make it slow and deep with the wet stroke of his tongue. Forced to take a few steps back, his chest vibrated with a low groan of disappointment.

“No, Tommy.” You stuttered in a whisper, astounded by his bold and senseless move. Your fingertips grazed your swollen lips, still tingling with the sensation of his lips against yours, all the while your otherworldly pale eyes gawked at him wide open.

Tommy’s lashes fluttered, then he slightly shook his head to chase away the sweet torpor that had overtaken him for a short while. Regaining his composure, he clenched his jaws and tried to cope with your rejection. Admittedly, it had been a bit too much for him to handle. Why did he do that? What did happen in his goddamn mind? And how the hell could a woman say no to him? Unfortunately, Tommy couldn’t find any answer to these questions. All he found was frustration and anger, fueled by his unsufferable heartache of John’s death.

“No.” Tommy’s face closed up, going placid again while the blue of his iris turned two shades darker, “No” he repeated, trying his best to keep his emotions how he always did: hidden behind coolness, “So why did you come here and throw yourself in my arms?”

His question had taken you aback, for you didn’t expect him to wonder about such a trivial thing. Somehow, you wondered if he ever knew what the definition of platonic love was, or if all his interactions with women, except the ones from his family, always led him to their bed. “I just wanted someone to talk to...” Your eyes fled his, and you folded your arms to hug yourself, feeling suddenly freezing, “And I thought you’d maybe need someone too? I mean… I wanted to comfort you too. Just not—like this.” In truth, you were left agape by the whole misunderstanding. And by Tommy’s unfathomable mind.

Not minding that he was in a morgue, the King of Small Heath took of a cigarette from his pocket and rubbed it nervously on his lower lip before lighting it. Thoughts were now racing in his mind, along with your words. He could have dismissed the topic with a simple wave from his hand, but he couldn’t come to terms with how good you had made him felt for a few fleeting but intense minutes. Tommy’s chest rose and fell with rapid breath, for both shame and anger had crept into his bones. Why? He thought. Why did his brother had been allowed to meet you before he could? Why did Arthur, broken and fragile Arthur, had been allowed to have a loving woman by his side and not him? After all, he was the one who needed it the most. No, he was the one who deserved it the most. But now Grace was dead, all women he shared his bed with tended to leave him an unpleasant after taste of ashes in his mouth, and the one he thought who could heal him didn’t want him. What kind of freaking curse was that? But in his inner turmoil and feeling of unfairness, Tommy forgot to take into account the real problem: you could do nothing for his heart. No one could.

“Alright then, you wanna talk? We gonna talk, ey. I wanna know something, Heaven. Why didn’t you save him ey?” A cloud of smoke escaped from his mouth, leaving you wondering if it was due to the cigarette or to his rage.

“Sorry?” You asked, feeling your shoulders tense.

He threw his cigarette further away before squinting his eyes as he talked to you “You resurrected a damn bird. Polly talked y’know. She told me you had the great power of healing, something that’s fucking rare. So why?”

“Why?! Why what?! What the hell are you implying?” You were starting to lose your patience, already fed up with his mean games. Moreover, your emotions was already all messed up with all the earliest events.

“Why the fuck didn’t you save John?! Why the fuck didn’t you bring him back to life?” His voice rose, resounding in the morgue so loudly that John probably heard it from where he was.

You blinked, astonished. “Because it doesn’t work like that, you fucking idiot!” You replied to his screams with louder ones, now troubling the dead’s final rest.

“Of course, it doesn’t. Isn’t it a bit ironic? I mean… For everyone, you’re a saint. For Arthur you’re a fucking angel, ey, even a divine being. But now that you have the occasion to use your wicked powers for something useful you can’t even do it!” His prose had turned into poison, seeping through your veins and contaminating soul.

“Thomas, stop it.” You begged, trying to remain calm. Surely, you didn’t want to argue right after John’s death. Especially not when he was there… You took a quick glance at his motionless body and your heart sank. Was it your fault?

“I told you what it is. You’ve bewitched all of them. You’ve bewitched me,” His eyes darkened, “All your so-called gifts come from the Devil... So come on! Bring John back to life, you fucking witch!”  He was now pointing John with his index finger, “Bring him back now!”

“HIS HEART HAD STOPPED BEATING!” You howled, self-control breaking down.

“It doesn’t matter, you had let him die!”

“I didn’t!” You shook your head, rage taking over you, “It’s the blood. My witchcraft doesn’t come from the Devil, it comes from the fucking blood. From the human body. That’s what I manipulate. I could have done something if his heart had been still beating the slightest, or if it had just stopped. But it wasn’t the fucking case!” Tears of wrath left a moist trail on your skin as you wiped them away quickly with the palm of your hand, “He was dead for too long when I found him!” A short silence fell in the morgue after your attempt to justify yourself – Tommy didn’t buy it.

“It’s your fault.” He concluded in a quiet and low tone, desperately trying to both find someone to blame for his brother’s death, and wanting to make you pay for rejecting him.

“W-What?” His words had stabbed you right in the heart.

“It’s your fault if John is now lying in a fucking morgue, dead and cold. You have let him die.”

“I didn’t!” Your voice broke.

“You fucking did! Look at him now, look at his fucking corpse riddled with bullet! Look at the fuck you did, ey!” Tommy had stepped aside and pulled the shroud from John’s body. Doing so, he gave you full sight on his bloody chest, whose round bullet wounds were already darkening. Such a macabre spectacle momentarily broke the last bit of sanity you had left.

John, Oh John, your soul lamented.

“ENOUGH!” You yelled. The way your usually sweet voice screeched was so powerful, so inhumane that all the lights of the morgue flickered, rendering the place even more ominous than it already was. On top of the dancing lights, whose glow had been undermined by your own darkness, the atmosphere around Tommy thickened. The gangster swallowed the lump in his throat, suddenly overtaken by an unpleasant and eerie feeling of unease. In other circumstances your brother-in-law’s change in behavior would have appease you. Especially when considering that shutting up was not in Tommy’s habits. Nevertheless, far too hurtful words and years of restrained spite got the best of you: from the moment you met to this one, Tommy had been nothing but bane. Anger rippled through you, hardening your maimed heart and blurring every notion of decorum you’d usually try to respect of Arthur’s sake, “You wanna make me your villain?” You had stopped screaming. Quite the contrary, your tone had turned from a bawling banshee to the quiet and sinister sigh of Death. With that last question posed, you extended one of your arms, palm facing Tommy, and spread your fingers, “I’ll give you a reason to fear me!”

At first, Tommy raised a brow wondering what the goal behind your move was. Then, the fact you dared to scream at him and insult him – certainly combined with your rejection – made rage coiled in his stomach. He opened his mouth, about to reply to your arrogance when words choked in his throat. Hit by a sudden and obliterating pain in the chest,  Tommy pressed his hand were his heart was and looked up in terror as a thin trickle of blood started to run down one of his nostrils, dying his thin lips with a crimson color, “What—What are you doing to me?!” He stuttered, barely hearing his voice because of the sound of his own heart beating faster and faster echoed in his skull far too loudly. However, you didn’t answer him, far too consumed by the flames of your rage, licking though your delicate bones and dainty frame. With your hand still facing him, you started to close your fingers very slowly. Tommy coughed for each inch your fingers moved, his lungs were crushed harder in his tight chest. He wanted to scream – scream to let out the pain, scream to stop you, but the only noise he could make was muffled squeals, similar to an agonizing prey.

“Here is what I can do, Tommy! This is the pain I am capable to cause with my delicate and fragile little being! See? If I can heal, I can also make one sick and destroy them.”

“S—St—Stop...” He tried to beg, bloody mouth gaping, desperate for air. But this time he was not only met by your silence, but by the worsening of his pain to the extent that his legs were about to collapse. No, you didn’t want to stop. In fact, you wanted him to pay for everything. You wanted him to kneel.

“Beg.” Your voice echoed in the morgue and your eyes were staring coldly at Tommy Shelby who, crushed by the extreme pain you were exerting on his body, had no other choice than to rest one of his knees on the ground, right in front of you. The metallic taste of blood that kept running down his throat, thick and hot, enhanced his suffocating and labored attempt to breath. At this point Tommy had one certitude; you were going to kill him. Whether by a heart attack or by smashing his lungs to a pulp, it did not matter. What mattered was that, for the very first time since you met, he was at your mercy. Far too well he understood that all you had to do was to close your fist, and then he would end up lying down on the table next to John’s.

The shovels, the dirt in his mouth, everything came back to his mind as he fought to breath.

“Heaven!”

“Listen closely to what I’m about to say,” You spoke calmly, “I think I’ve had enough of your hypocritic ways and your unjustified battle against me, whose only goal is to tear me down. I am not going to kill you, Thomas Shelby. But if I spare you, it’s only because, first I don’t want to murder you in front of John, and then, because Arthur loves you. I don’t fucking know how he still does after every mean thing you’ve said and done to him, but the facts remain that he does.” You paused, finally reopening your hand, and lowering your arm. It didn’t take more for Tommy’s lungs to finally be able to stock air again and for his heart to return to a normal pace. The gangster immediately inhaled, still under the shock of what had just happened. Hands on the cold tiled floor, eyes wide open, he was shaking like a leaf in a raging storm, “So for Arthur’s sake and John’s memory, I want you to wear your most beautiful smile next time you’ll see me. Just like you told me the first time we met ey?”

By the time you’ve stopped stabbing him with your murderous and poisoned words, Tommy had managed to stand up on his quivering legs. Yet, he was still catching his breath and pressing one hand on his chest to alleviate the soreness of his lungs. He licked his lips to clean the blood off them, the taste of his own crimson essence reminding him of what he was: not a God. Much less the Devil. Just one simple mortal man. At this very moment, Tommy Shelby had lost his splendor. Still shaken and utterly terrified by your wicked abilities, little King Shelby looked at you, his face contorted in pure horror and disgust. “You…”  His enchanting turquoise eyes, whose color made women’s head spin, were now glazed with an almost primal fear, “You’re a fucking monster.”

“At least we have something in common.” You retorted, before turning your heels and leaving the morgue. John’s spirit wasn’t there anyway.

Following your quarrel with your brother-in-law, all you wanted was to go back home and hide from this cruel world in Arthur’s arms; the only place in which you could find a bit of inner peace. Moreover, you knew he would certainly need you after his visit at the morgue.  Your holy tears had flown from your eyes all the way home, only chased away by your delicate hands. The only thing that kept you from collapsing in the midst of the streets, weeping on the ground like a fallen angel, was thought of finding your husband. It has always been you against the rest of the world anyway. So, what was your disappointment when hours flew and Arthur was nowhere to be seen. 

A little sigh escaped from your lips as you poured the rest of the red wine bottle you had opened earlier in your glass. Once refilled with alcohol, you simply dragged your exhausted body to the living room and collapsed on the sofa, looking blankly at the dancing flames in the hearth. Before panic settled in, you thought that Arthur needed time for himself after being informed of his little brother’s death — which was perfectly fine and understandable. He had every right to stay with his family, grieving the loss of his own blood. But the more time passed, the more his absence was weighing on you. Feeling your sorrow, Kaiser woke up from his nap, stretched his muscular body, and came closer to rest his large head on your thighs. The dog’s cropped ears were flattened, and his large hazel eyes were looking at you with sincere worry.

“That’s okay big boy, that’s okay.” You gently stroke his head, but despite loving your caresses the Cane Corso let out a sad whining sound, “I know…” You simply replied, knowing that Kaiser missed Arthur too on top of hating to see you that mournful. Suddenly, the mutt’s ears raised again, and he turned his head towards the door, sensing someone’s coming. Trusting his shape senses, your eyes looked up at the entrance too. When your instincts weren’t working, you knew you could always count on Kaiser and tonight was no exception: only seconds later the door opened, revealing Arthur’s lanky silhouette. You got up from the sofa, putting your glass of red wine on the coffee table, and watched him carefully. 

“Cheri?”

“Hm.” The only reply you got was a grunt, followed by his staggering frame walking passed you without stopping for a hug nor a kiss. In fact, you wondered if he even saw you. The strong scents of alcohol and tobacco floated in the air at his passage, leaving no doubt on his intoxicated state. You sighed, watching him walking towards the furniture and pouring himself another whiskey. Not the first of the evening for sure.

“Arthur, maybe you shouldn’t do that.” You said quietly, with care and sincere worry. Losing John had broken him, obviously, so you knew you had to be delicate with him. A lecture was definitely not what he needed at this aching moment, which was why you suggested rather than ordering.  Nevertheless, your husband remained deaf to your gentle advice and gulped down the alcohol in one mouthful, right before pouring himself another one. You shook your head and walked to him, for you could not let Arthur drink his pain until he passed out – because that was what he was trying to do. Somehow, he only acknowledged your existence when he felt your hand gently touching his arms, right above the thin texture of his shirt, “I’m going to run you a bath and we’ll go to bed, alright?” You finally said, knowing that no words would ease the tormenting grief he was experiencing. Why? Because you did too. John Shelby was your best friend. No. He was more than that, he was like another part of you. But as you weren’t blood-related, you’d rather leave your own pain on the back burner and take care of your husband, who hadn’t lost a friend but a baby brother. A loss whose ache you knew far too well. Taking this into account, you didn’t want to ask him if he was okay nor if he wanted to talk because you knew that no he wasn’t and no he didn’t want to.

“Yeah.” Arthur drank the second glass of whiskey and put it on the furniture a bit bluntly, his reflexes numbed by alcohol, “Yeah…” He sniffed, tears flooding his vision for the umpteenth time today – he had lost count. He didn’t think he had some left but here he was, crying again, unlike Tommy who could hold it well. “Heaven…” He moaned in pain, his suffering coming from the deepest part of his soul. You opened your lips to reassure him but you stopped: there was something unusual in his voice, “I need ye to save me …” He begged, turning around to face you even if his gaze remained fixed on the floor.

“I’m here.” One of your hands reached his waist with an indescribable tenderness, “Look at me Arthur.” The other slipped under his chin and gently forced him to look at you — which he ultimately did. Yet, the moment your eyes dived in his iris your heart stopped beating for a micro-while. His pupils were so dilated that the blue of his eyes was barely visible, reduced to small rings around two soul-sucking black holes. From then, you were quick to react: you slipped your hand in the pocket of his trouser and, when you did, your fingertips were met with th cold surface of a little vial. “No…” You whispered, pulling the object from his pocket and observing it with genuine disgust and disappointment. In truth, you could recognize the object  from miles for those blue and small vials usually contained cocaine, “What the fuck, Arthur!” you exclaimed, stepping back from him and showing him the small bottle you were holding between your index finger and your thumb.

“What?” He straight off hissed, eyes half closed and his body slightly reeling back and forth due to his state of inebriation.

“Did you take it?!” The answer was obvious, but you still wanted to hear it from him. You wanted him to admit it and assume the consequences of his relapse.

“Yes I did eh!” He finally exclaimed after one long second of staring at your eyes, searching for any kind of excuses he could find. But the disappointment in your frozen iris kept him from lying – He definitely could not do this to you, even drunk and high. You closed your eyelids a brief moment, for his words felt like a stab in the chest despite you already knew the undeniable truth.

“No Arthur that’s not going to be possible. You made promise,” You tried to remain calm but red wine, your fight with Tommy, and the mess of your emotions had destroyed your diplomacy, “You’ve promised me! That’s… Thats not going to help you cope with John’s death!” One of your bare feet was nervously tapping the wooden floor.

“AND HOW AM I GOING TO COPE WITH IT EH? FOOKIN’ HOW?” He burst in anger, your words fueling the raging fire that was burning inside of him. Carried away by his emotional turmoil and the drug, Arthur swept the furniture with one violent movement of his arms, knocking the bottle and the glass over. The cacophony of broken glass made you jump a little as they crashed on the floor, exploding in dozens of shards.

You looked at him, shocked to the core, for he had never really yelled at you before. Each time his voice would rise in your presence it was always because of external factors, never because of you. In truth, Arthur had never got mad at you. The more he could do in your presence was being grumpy. However, tonight you were the source of his sudden anger, and such a revelation hurt like hell. For a fraction of a second, your angry expression flickered into an aching one. Still, you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and answered him with a cool, almost placid tone.

“Don’t yell at me. Understand?” You warned him, jaw clenched and every muscle of your tiny body tense,  “I don’t want you to take drug except on very, very rare occasions and I must be here– It was part of the deal.” You punctuated you sentence by throwing the vial into the fire, which burn brighter for a short while. Arthur scoffed, his lips stretching in a sarcastic and irked grin.

“Isn’t it a fookin’ rare occasion? My brother’s dead. That’s a once-in-a-lifetime event that needs to be celebrated properly eh.” His bitter smirk disappeared as he winced with pain, bringing his trembling hands in his hair to pull it. “I need to numb the pain. To numb everything. Oh God, John is dead. Dead. He’s fookin’ dead!”  Each time he repeated the last word, Arthur hit his head with his fists. The dancing flames reflected in his teary eyes, and lit his face with an orange hue. It was getting hard to tell if such an effect came from the fire in the hearth, or if he was burning from inside.

“Stop it Arthur!” You grabbed his wrists with your little hands, trying your best to keep him from hurting himself, “I know alright? I know you’re suffering and I’m deeply sorry for it. I swear I’d love to take your pain away, but I can’t. I can’t,” You forced him to look at you by squeezing his wrists, “Thing is, I don’t want to watch you destroying yourself with cocaine or God knows what other kind of drugs! That’s out of fucking question!” Despite your attempt to remain calm, your emotions got the best of you. The betrayal of him breaking his promise was more painful than a bullet shot through your chest. Maybe more painful than losing John itself. Tears began to stream down your face as you let go of Arthur and observed his enraged and dilated pupils.

“What the hell do ye know, eh.” Arthur stumbled, closing the distance between you a second time and leaning over until his face and yours were only a few inches away. His whiskey breath fanned over your skin. “What the hell do ye knew about pain, little angel? You have no idea what I’m going through. If ye did you’d be the first to snort snow ey.”  

“Listen,” You sniffed, swallowing back a sob. Okay, maybe yelling at him wasn’t the best way to react so, in a desperate attempt of not aggravating the situation, you forced yourself to regain your calm  “I’ve lost my family, I know what it—”

“IT’S NOT ABOUT YOUR FAMILY!” He cuts you, yelling so loud your ears buzzed, “THEY’VE BEEN SIX FEET UNDER FOR A FOOKIN’ WHILE! WE’RE TALKING ABOUT JOHN! MY LITTLE BROTHER!” Arthur’s eyes darkened and his teeth were bare, as a wounded wolf trying his best to scare someone away, “They’ve riddled him with bullets, those mops. Those bastards! We’re in a fookin’ war and here you are scolding me like a kid because I took drugs! That’s fookin’ ridicu—”

The sound of flesh snapping echoed in the living room when your hand slapped him, followed by a heavy silence only the fire’s cracks broke. Arthur backed up at the blow, eyes wide open. Slowly, his shaking fingers brushed his reddened cheek, right where his skin was tingling. At this well-deserved reality check, the tall gangster blinked several times and finally noticed the heart-wrenching pain in your glistening eyes. You who had tried to hold back your tears and be strong for Arthur could not keep your tears for yourself anymore. They flowed from your holy eyes, salty waterfall of sorrows. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Not a single sound. It was not really the fact you had hit him that petrified his whole soul, but rather the realization that he had hurt you, his beloved angel. The woman of his life.

Your face contorted with a caustic combination of pain, sorrow and anger. In truth, you didn’t want to hit him. You really didn’t. But he had been barking at you like a rabid dog, almost spitting at your face as he screamed. And then, he had the stupid idea of talking about your family while knowing what had happened to them. All brutally murdered in a matter of hours. Guided with rage, your blood had boiled, and your hand slapped him even before you truly realized it. “Don’t talk about my family like this anymore.” You hissed through gritted teeth, your cold voice seeping through him and turning his blood into liquid nitrogen.

“Heaven…” Arthur said, feeling himself breaking down at your hateful gaze. He quickly moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, thinking carefully about the next words that were about to come from his mouth but you didn’t let him the time you speak. You had heard enough.

“Shut up. Seriously Arthur, just… Shut up.” Your eyes, who always looked at him with indescribable love and tenderness, were now filled with Hell’s fury and it tore his soul. All of sudden, he felt very small despite towering you with his height.

“You think I’m not suffering from John’s death? You have no idea how much he meant to me. Of course, he wasn’t my brother! Of course, his blood doesn’t run through my veins. But still, he mattered like no one else did, except you.” Each sentence had a bitter taste. Then, you turned away from him and walked to the smashed bottle to take one huge shard between your fragile fingers, “You wanna know how it makes me feel when you’re high? We’ll that’s easy.” Now you were determined to make him understand, no matter what it took. You showed him your forearm, “I’m not Linda, right? I didn’t put a leash around your neck because I trusted you. Now, I want you to look at me carefully. When you take drug, it’s as if I was doing this to myself.” Turning your words into deeds, you suddenly slashed your skin with the glass fragment in one quick motion. The sharp surface cut your skin just like butter, and it crimson blood quickly filled the gash, overflowing from it and dripping down your skin to your elbow under Arthur’s astounded eyes.

“No, angel!” Suddenly sobering up at the sight of of blood on your porcelain skin, he almost pounced on you and took the shard from your hand to threw it away, “The fook ye did eh?! Bloody hell…” Arthur tried to take you arm to examine the depth of your wound but you pushed him away with a stern “Don’t touch me”.

Don’t touch me. Surely, you didn’t mean it right?

You didn’t – Arthur’s heart ached.

“Now just imagine that all you can do is watch me cutting myself until, one day, I bleed to death. How fucking bad it would make you feel? How powerless?!”

“Gosh Heaven, you’re bleeding. Oh God!” Arthur started to panic, tears filling his eyes and shoulder jolting with dawning sob. His whole being ached at the sight of you wounded. It was stronger than him: he couldn’t bear the idea of your being hurt, even less when it was because of him. Whether he was the direct cause or not. “I’m sorry love. Fuck, I’m so sorry…” He begged, trying to approach you again but each step he made caused you to step back. Arthur’s hand slowly squeezed his own arm, for he could almost feel the pain of your cut on his own unwounded. Everything was starting to spin around him as he realized how stupid he had been, “Please, love…”

“Keep your apologies for yourself, Arthur. Let’s make things clear:  I’d rather burn at the stake than watch you slowly killing yourself with this shit.” You retorted, turning your heels and heading to the door not minding the fact you were not wearing shoes. It didn’t matter, you needed so fresh air and, more than anything, you needed to be away from Arthur for a little while. Meeting his eyes had become far too painful for you to bear anymore. You had almost reached the door when the gangster’s long and calloused fingers closed grabbed your hands to hold you back.

“No! Don’t leave me! Please, please I fookin’ beg ye but don’t… Just don’t leave me Heaven.” He kept repeating over and over again, the gravel in his voice rising from one octave under the weight of despair and utter fear. The way his menacing traits had turned into the facial expression of a panicking child was truly heart wrenching – But Arthur could not live without you, and it wasn’t a euphemism. Yet, you snatched your hand from his and, as you did, his very soul crumbled. As painful as it was to see him like this, you just couldn’t let this pass – he had to understand how serious you were about the whole drug issue, and how deep he had maimed your heart. You took a last look at him, shaking your head in disapproval, and stormed out of the house, letting the darkness of Watery Lane swallowing you whole.

At first, he had wanted to pin you against the wall and forced you to stay. His desperate mind, seeking for any way to keep you by his side, had even thought about threatening to kill himself with his gun right in front of you if you left, but he had been frozen by the disappointed look on your face. Petrified by your gaze, as a poor unfortunate traveler meeting Medusa’s deadly eyes. Following your departure, Arthur had screamed until his throat hurt and his voice broke. The drowning misery he was experiencing, far worst than suffocating in French tunnels, led him to destroy everything he could in the living room. Maddened by the thought of losing you, the flip in his brain switched and nothing made sense anymore. You had left him alone here, and his felt his mental health getting worse and worse as minutes passed, until he was completely out of his mind. He had done all he could to alleviate his guilt and sadness: from throwing in the fire all the cocaine he kept to hitting a furniture until his knuckles’ skin cracked open. God, he even threw his lanky frame at the wall several times in a frenzied attempt to knock himself up and get a break from the pain of your absence but nothing worked. He was now sitting on the rug, rocking himself back and forth in front of the dying fire. If if you didn’t want him anymore, all was left for him was to blow his damn brains with his gun for if you’d rather burn than witness his fall, he'd rather die than existing one sole second without your heavenly presence by his side. He could afford to lose Linda, John, hell even Tommy, but he couldn’t do it without you.

Arthur looked at his wedding ring, jaw clenched and heart in bits.

He had fucked up. And he had fucked up really bad.

As he always did.

✞ Readers are left to interpret/choose what the characters feel for the reader. By no means it wants to make Reader/Heaven a Mary Sue everyone loves. Nevertheless, fanfiction should remain fun for readers so that's why I leave most of the things open to interpretation.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ Tag list: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @brummiereader @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @shelbydelrey @peakyswritings @helen06dreamer

[mayasaura]

what if john didn't actually wipe the pre-ressurection memories of his friends, and he just made them inaccessible, and through lyctor shenanigans, pyrha was somehow able to find gi1deons?

this is brought on by me seeing a post a while back about how childhood amnesia is kind of like ur brain updating and then the childhood memory files not updating with it, so the brain computer can't use them.

but the pre-ressurection memories are adult memories, so a human brain, a.k.a g1deon's, would have to be damaged in a particular way to be unable to access the entirety of his life.

fast forward to his ascension. pyrrha, as his cav, is going to have her muscle memories superimposed over his, and so she is effectively going 'where remembrance lives in the brain'. the superhealing granted by lyctorhood mingles with the incoming pyrrha™️ juice and either that's what disrupts some of whatever work john did, and the botched process gives pyrrha access to gi1deon's pre-res memories, or the botched process specifically that does it. either way, pyrrha now knows Some Things. Some Things she'll sit on for a while, but Things none the less.

this brings me to cassy. she was working on the grand lysis with anastasia originally, something pal and cam perfected centuries later. consequently, paul tells us two very important things:

1) when you combine two souls, the resultant souls have both the memories, but may find it hard to sort through and distinguish memories of the same event

2) it is possible to reach grand lysis after a standard lysis.

could it be, then, that cassy was privately trying to achieve grand lysis too? if she was, it's obvious she didn't succeed/fully follow through, as the og lyctor gang don't mention any change in her behaviour. but i like to think that she tried, and just like gi1deon unintentionally undid some of John's work. but what Cass-and-Nigella (Nancy?) saw and remembered caused them to panic and 'look back', which could have permanently stopped Cass from trying to undergo grand lysis again (there's not enough evidence for that, it's just the only reason i can think of why she wouldn't dive deeper; truth over solace in lies and all that)

whatever happened, it's some extra sauce on for the cass betrayal <3

So true, you make some great points about Pyrrha and GtF. If John wiped them by suppressing that memory in her brain, well, once she was a soul without her own brain..... all bets are off.

I'm not sure how you're drawing the conclusion for the second point, about grand lysis being possible after completing standard lysis. If Paul is the result of Cassiopeia and Anastasia's joint research, or at least if Cassie and Anastasia were driving toward the same goal, I'm not sure it follows that Cassie thought she could still achieve grand lysis with Nigella. Sixth is for truth over solace in lies, right? Could be the truth Cassie was seeking wasn't that she could still be reborn with Nigella, but rather the much harder truth of finding out for sure that Nigella's death was unnecessary.

I think you're right, tho. It is very suggestive that Cassiopeia and Anastasia's research was in composite and melange souls. And that is some delicious sauce to stir into the theories about Cassiopeia's betrayal.

[floresmarique]

Hello! This is the first one shot i wrote that you can find on my Wattpad too! Also, sorry if there are some mistakes, i'm italian so sometimes i still struggle a bit with my english but i hope you like it ♡

Plot; You are a new pupil in the Cobra Kai dojo and to impress John Kreese you fight with his best student, Johnny lawrence. But Johnny will develop some special feelings towards you...

WARNING: This one shot will contain smut and a bit of violence.

Tags; oral, swallowing, a little bit of bully Johnny at the beginning and a tiny bit of fluff.

Enjoy!

~

Since (Y/N) was a kid, she always wanted to enter the fascinating world of Martial Arts but never had the economic possibility to afford the lessons.

But now that she was in California and her parents had a new well paid job, they encouraged her to join a Karate school and she couldn't believe that when they first told her about it with smiling faces.They always knew that (Y/N) wanted to learn Karate as a child and, with the new money they were making, her parents supported (Y/N)'s passion, which made her happy.

Everytime she came back from school, she always stopped by that dojo called 'Cobra Kai'. (Y/N) couldn't stop looking at the perfect moves of those boys, at their amazing grit.

But there was a thing that worried her; she never saw a girl inside the dojo.

Not having girls was kinda old minded and sexist in her opinion.

It's the 80s, for gods sake!

She thought.

But trying wouldn't be too bad, right?

So one day after school, she finally decided to enter inside that place and the first thing her ears heard were some screamed words by the boys. They all looked like soldiers and the Sensei looked like the captain.

"Strike first, strike hard, no mercy!" They shouted in unison and (Y/N) furrowed her brows.

What kind of motto was that?

She didn't know what she was supposed to do, so she just cleared her throat to catch their attention, hoping to not get humiliated by them or the Sensei.

The Sensei looked very rough and rude and the girl noticed that he had a cobra tattooed on his arm, he was the only one with a black gi while everyone else had a white one.

She always wanted to wear one.

The tall man walked towards her, trying to intimidate her with his glare but (Y/N) kept her head high and stared him in the eyes with a straight face.

"How can i help you?" He spoke with a slight grin on his face.

"I'd like to join your dojo."

After her answer, everyone bursted in a loud laugh and (Y/N) started to feel uncomfortable, especially with the man's glare on her.

"We do not accept girls." Was his simple response and she wasn't surprised about it, but disappointed for sure.

"Why not? Girls are capable of kick asses just like boys."

She didn't expect to be that bold, but did she care? No.

She wanted to challenge herself and demonstrate to those immature people that girls can be just as strong.

"That's very brave of you..." He started to slowly walk around her in a circle, only to stop again in front of her with his arms crossed. "I could give you a chance."

(Y/N) smirked, proud of herself while she took off her shoes to stand on the tatami. She was so excited and loved to see the disappointed looks on the boys faces.

"Let's see how good of a fighter you are, shall we?" The Sensei said and she nodded, repeating in her head the techniques she found in some martial arts books.

She felt ready.

"Lawrence, come here."

A blonde, tall boy with a muscular figure stood on the Sensei side, his expression was filled with anger. (Y/N) also noticed that he had a black eye and a black headband wrapped around his head. She couldn't deny that he was pretty hot, but she was too determined to get distracted.

"He's one of my best boys." Sensei smirked and the boys shared an amused look while sitting down on the tatami in a circle. "Good luck."

The man walked away and she and the boy remained at the center of the tatami in the attack position.

The blonde smirked before speaking.

"I'm gonna go easy on yo-" Before he could finish his sentence, (Y/N) kicked him right on top of his stomach, which made the boys howl in amusement. She was the one smirking now, standing again in the same position as before.

"I'm not gonna go easy on you, blondie." (Y/N) stated, and that was where the boy lost it. He started attacking her with punches and kicks that she perfectly shielded, just to punch him right in the face and kick him on his black belt, making him fall on his back.

Before he could stand up again, (Y/N) positioned herself on his lap and bent forward to put her hands under his shoulders to block him with her dead weight. She once saw that position on a book and it was kinda awkward to do since it looked like she was hugging him.

She could smell his sweat and a little bit of perfume, but she also could feel his warm breath against her forehead and it made her shiver a bit. He was attractive and being that close to him clouded her senses so much that she didn't hear Sensei's voice.

"Enough, you can stand up." He demanded.

When they both stood up, the blonde guy adjusted his gi and looked at her dead in the eyes while (Y/N) observed the shocked expressions of the other boys.

"What's your name?" The Sensei asked, walking towards her again. She tried to catch a little bit of breath before answering.

"(Y/N) (L/N)."

"Well, (Y/N), you're in. Consider yourself lucky, this is a privilege."

(Y/N) couldn't contain her happiness and a smile formed on her lips. She was proud of herself and she was sure that even her parents would have been.

"Thank you, Sensei." She said, but before he could respond, she heard the boy behind them speak.

"What?! Is this a joke?!" The same blonde blue eyed boy spoke. "I let her win, obviously. I bet she is not gonna resist a week here."

"Johnny, i'm the one who makes the decisions here."

So his name was Johnny.

Johnny Lawrence.

She heard of him at school, he was considered the 'bad guy' along with his mates but (Y/N) wasn't intimidated by them.

(Y/N) smirked and held out her hand for Johnny to shake.

"Pleasure to finally meet you, Johnny Lawrence."

He looked at her hand and then stared into her eyes with a killing glare.

"The pleasure is all yours."

Johnny refused to shake her hand and walked away, but that didn't wash (Y/N)'s smirk off her face because she had him exactly where she wanted.

She liked some rivalry.

Or so she thought.

For the next weeks, Johnny made her life a living hell.

He would tease her at school or he would start fights while she walked home, fights that (Y/N) either refused or won. Johnny had enough of that. He couldn't believe that a girl, a so innocent looking girl, could always beat his ass better than him.

On the other hand, Johnny also knew that he could hurt her bad if he wanted to, but the truth was that he didn't want to make her suffer. He didn't want to ruin her pretty face with a kick, so in a certain sense he let her always won.

Johnny knew about her even before she came into the dojo that day, he saw her multiple times around Ali or during P.E.

And he wanted her.

His friends thought that he still had his mind set on Ali, but he moved on as soon as he saw (Y/N) at school and when he saw her enter the dojo, his heart was beating so fast that he was afraid she would actually notice it. When she got on top of his lap to block him, Johnny smelled her hair and felt all of her warmth on his body.

And he got a boner too in that exact moment.

There was something about that look on her innocent face, about her fake naivety that he just loved and needed in every sense of the word.

He teased her only to be around her, only to hear her voice again even if it was just to tell him to fuck off.

But he wasn't the only one who was crushing hard on her.

Bobby, his mate, always talked about her to Johnny.

"I want to ask her on a date." He once told Johnny and the rage he felt inside was about to explode, but he couldn't let them know his feelings.

Not yet.

"Why would you do that mate?" Johnny scoffed. "Our plan is to kick her out of Cobra Kai. She will only cause trouble to our dojo. A girl, please, i don't know what Sensei was thinking. Everyone will laugh at us at the tournament because of her."

Johnny was talking bullshit.

She was perfect for Cobra Kai, she had determination and strenght that even some boys would envy.

She would kick everyone's ass at the tournament.

But he couldn't let Bobby ask her out, because he was sure that she would say yes. They always chatted a bit at the dojo during stretching and they even had two or three classes together.

"Johnny, i think you are exaggerating a little bit. She's a badass and god, so pretty."

And after that, Johnny knew that he had to make her his before Bobby would find the courage to ask her out.

And that time came soon.

After another lesson, (Y/N) went to the changing room to take a shower, as always. She was very surprised that there was a changing room for girls since she was the first one that was accepted, but she never questioned it and was pretty happy to have a whole changing room for herself.

She had plans tho, about revolutionating the whole Cobra Kai so that other girls could join in. She also wasn't a fan of their 'no mercy' motto, honor was much more important to her.

While cleaning up her body under the water, she mentally repeated all the things she learned during the last lesson so that she wouldn't forget them and she got so concentrated that she didn't hear steps inside the changing room.

She hummed 'Girls Just Want To Have Fun' while wrapping a towel around her wet body and stepped out of the showers while looking down, adjusting the towel.

"Ohh girls, just wanna have- what the fuck are you doing here?!" Looking up, she saw Johnny completely relaxed on the bench of the changing room, his hair were still a little damp and the blue tight sweater he was wearing perfectly hugged his muscles.

"So is it true, you just wanna have fun?" He raised an eyebrow and gave her a cocky smile.

(Y/N) blushed and wrapped the towel even tighter around her body, embarassed.

"Johnny, what the fuck are you doing here?" She repeated, her cheeks were flushed, both for the rage and embarassment. "Can't you read? It says girls changing room."

"I'm exactly where i'm supposed to be." He stood up from the bench and towered over her figure. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and started brushing her hair while looking into the mirror. "I just wanted to see my dear friend."

(Y/N) widened her eyes and scoffed, shaking her head.

"Friend?" She scrunched up her hair and stared at Johnny's reflection in the mirror. "Since when?"

"Since today." He crossed his arms and observed her, amused by the situation.

"Ok, well, friend" she turned around and sighed. "Can we be friends after i get dressed? We'll talk about this later outside of the changing room."

"Change here, i don't mind. You will not need clothes anyway pretty soon." He nonchalantly said, trying to hide his grin.

"Well i do mind actually, what the hell are-" before (Y/N) could finish her comeback, Johnny pressed his lips on her soft ones, completely shocking her. It was a short kiss, just to see her reaction.

When he pulled away, he stared into her eyes and saw shock in them, but also something that made him smirk.

Lust.

She didn't slap him or even tried to back off. Her slightly open lips and her red cheeks said it all, Johnny didn't need words.

He kissed her again, but in a more ferocious way, and she did the same thing. All the attraction they had for each other was coming out from their bodies and actions.

Johnny backed off while taking her with him, so that he would sit on the bench with her on top of him. She gripped his large shoulders and moaned a little bit when she felt his boner against her thighs. Johnny groaned and held her neck with one hand while the other easily took off the towel from (Y/N)'s still wet body.

"I've wanted to do this for so long." He sighed into her mouth and deepened the kiss. His hands were roaming on her body, not knowing where to stop. He touched her shoulders, her breasts, her arms, her legs.

Her skin was soft and the smell of her was driving him crazy. (Y/N) kissed his cheeks, his forehead and then his lips again, with a desperation that made Johnny even more turned on.

"I always wanted you too..." (Y/N) softly said and caressed his cheek while leaving wet kisses on his jawline and neck. Johnny closed his eyes and then opened them again, he needed to see her desperate for him. He needed to remember her face, her body, the pretty shades of her skin. He wanted her to be printed in his mind for the rest of his life.

"Yeah?" His voice was a lot deeper than usual and also rough. "Fuck, come here."

He took her face in his hands and kissed her again, feeling her little fingers on the buttons of his blue jeans. He knew that she wasn't as innocent as she made people think. And he loved it so much.

"Wait-" He spoke with a ragged breath. "Am i- am i your first?"

He searched for her eyes and when she kept looking down, he raised her chin with two of his fingers so that she could look into his blue eyes.

"Y-Yes." She stuttered.

She was ashamed, but Johnny felt like he was touching heaven with his fingertips.

Because she was the first one for him too.

"You are my first too." He admitted and lightly kissed the top of her nose.

"What about Ali?" (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows in disbelief.

"We never did anything like this, only some make out sessions...but never like this." He caressed her lips with his fingers and bit his lip, staring down at her naked body.

He thought she was perfect, every curve on her body was, and he felt lucky to have her in that moment. To even speak to her. She was a goddess for him and he knew he needed to keep her in his life forever, because someone like her would be too hard to forget.

She was something else.

"You know, we don't have to rush..." Johnny calmy said, his voice was soft now and he made sure to keep eye contact with her.

He cared.

"I know, it's fine, i want to do it." (Y/N) said, confident about her decision.

"You want to do it... in a changing room?" Johnny raised his eyebrow and (Y/N) giggled at his shocked expression while caressing his golden damp locks.

"Well, wasn't it your plan?" She asked with a grin and Johnny rolled his eyes, a slight blush was appearing on his cheeks.

"Sort of..." He sighed "I just, i don't want our first time to be here, i want it to be more intimate and special."

(Y/N) thought about that and realized that he was right. They didn't even have condoms and it would have been too uncomfortable to have sex for the first time on a bench, considering the pain.

"I guess you are right." She nodded and gave him a peck on the lips. "But... we could do something else..."

Her fingertips traced the line of his abs, covered by his tight sweater. Johnny inhaled some air and rested the back of his head against the wall, grinning at her.

"Well, that was what i had in my mind in the first place..." He winked at her and took her hand that was placed on his belly, just to place it down on the buttons of his jeans. "Let's see how good you are now..."

(Y/N) felt a certain warmth in her stomach at his words and stared at his eyes while unbuttoning his jeans, her fingers were fast and almost desperate to feel him. Johnny eagerly helped her lower his pants, his white boxers showed the prominent boner under them.

(Y/N) slowly got on the cold floor, on her knees between Johnny's legs. Her heart was beating fast against her chest, she felt heat all up in her body and a deep desire for Johnny. She never saw a dick before, except for that one time in her old city where one of her friends had an adult magazine at school and showed it to everyone, and (Y/N) was pretty grossed out by the view of a penis.

"Do you want it?" Johnny deeply asked, his eyes were filled with desire and lust.

"Yes." (Y/N) said and slowly lowered the waistband of his boxers, only to display his full hard lenght.

She didn't feel grossed out now.

Johnny noticed her surprised expression and softly laughed.

"Like what you see, baby?"

(Y/N) shivered at the pet name and nodded, taking his member in her hand to observe it better. Johnny slightly panted at that and gulped, wanting to feel her hand around him.

"Stroke it slowly, baby..." Johnny placed an hand on one of (Y/N)'s shoulders to keep her going.

She did as she was told and observed his eyes and expressions to understand if she was doing it the right way and, judging by his heavy pants, she was.

"Like that?" She innocently asked, pressing her palm on his lenght while stroking it.

"Fuck, yes, like that" Johnny was already a moaning mess, (Y/N) never saw him look more vulnerable than that and she liked to be the one that made him feel that way. The skin of his dick was smooth and warm and it was probably 7 inches long. The head was red and wet with pre-cum that (Y/N) decided to taste with the tip of her tongue, causing Johnny to groan.

"Oh, god- yeah, keep doing that baby..." (Y/N) smirked at his desperation and pressed her tongue on the head of his cock, licking it up and down. Her eyes never left his face, he looked completely gone to the pleasure.

He looked at her with half lidded eyes, his mouth was in a 'o' shape and he was starting to sweat, (Y/N) could see it on his forehead.

Johnny caressed her hair, encouraging her to take his lenght inside her mouth more. His legs were tensed and (Y/N) gripped his toned thighs while going down on him.

"Mmh..." Johnny closed his eyes and thrusted his hips a little forward, but still carefully and slowly to give her time. "Keep stroking it while you suck it, baby..."

(Y/N) welcomed his thrusts into her mouth and wrapped one hand around the end of his dick, stroking it a little faster. The changing room was filled with Johnny's moans and the sloppy sounds of (Y/N)'s mouth wrapped around him.

She could feel herself getting wetter by the second and felt the urge to touch the area between her legs for some friction.

"Oh shit, yes, yes, i'm so close, love-" Johnny took her head in his hands just to feel her movements and opened his eyes to stare down at her. The sight of the pretty girl he wanted for months on her knees with her swollen lips around his dick, were too much for him. "Baby, i'm about to cum-"

(Y/N) looked up at him and managed to show a little grin while staying on his cock, bobbing her head up and down faster than before.

Johnny took the hint; she wanted him to cum inside her mouth.

"Fuck, you want it don't you?" Johnny bit his lip and rested both of his hands on the sides of her face, his cheeks were flushed and his forehead was wet with sweat. "I'm coming, oh fuck, (Y/N)!"

(Y/N) stopped her movements but kept his lenght inside her mouth, she felt his dick contract various times and then a salty and warm liquid squirted on her tongue. His thighs tensed even more and he never left his grip on her face while riding off his orgasm. (Y/N) made sure to swallow everything till the last drop before letting his dick out of her mouth.

Both of them were breathing heavily and Johnny looked high, still trying to recover from the intense pleasure.

"Fuck" he sighed and smiled softly while watching her standing up. She had messy hair and flushed cheeks, her lips were pink and swollen and Johnny couldn't help but to kiss her. "You are incredible, baby..."

"Well, thank you!" (Y/N) giggled and Johnny stood up, kissing her again but only to make her sit on the bench, on the same place he was some seconds ago.

"But i can't let you go like this..." Johnny was now on the floor, gently opening her legs while staring into her eyes. (Y/N) was dying of embarassment, no one ever saw her intimate parts and she felt self conscious about it.

"Shh, don't worry, let me admire you..." Johnny could see that she was nervous and it was important for him to reassure her. He slowly parted her legs without breaking eye contact. Once he saw how wet she was, Johnny licked his lips and slightly smirked at her, amused by her embarassed expression.

"Do you want me?" He whispered, leaving a wet trail of kisses along her thigh. His blue eyes never left hers while doing so. (Y/N) tensed, feeling him that close to her private area was making her sweat. "Tell me."

"Yes, Johnny." She gulped. "I want you."

He took both of her legs and rested them on his shoulders, getting closer to her pulsating pussy.

"Even out of this changing room?"

(Y/N) smiled and nodded, but Johnny wanted to hear her.

"Tell me." He kissed her inner thigh, getting even more closer to her vagina.

"Yes." She panted. "I want you, always."

Johnny grinned and before (Y/N) could blink, he pressed his entire tongue on her aching pussy, making her moan. He kept looking at her, holding her legs with his strong arms and he started to move his tongue in circular motions on her clit.

"Oh, Johnny..." She gasped and tugged at his blonde hair. Everything was new to her, she never felt something like that and she would have never imagined it to happen with Johnny. She for sure dreamed about it, but never expected it to become reality.

"You like it, baby girl?" He asked her, his voice was deep and his lips red and shiny because of her fluids.

"Yes, Johnny, so much!" She moaned when the blonde started sucking on her clit like he was hungry. He was breathing heavily against her, she could feel his warm breath on her pussy and it made her crazy.

"You taste so good, love..." Johnny whispered and reached one of her breasts with an hand to gently stroke her nipple. "You're so beautiful, fuck."

With his other hand, Johnny teased her entrance with one of his fingers but never left her clit untouched. He slowly inserted the tip of his finger inside of her, feeling how tight she was. (Y/N) let out a light squeal at that.

"How do you feel?" He asked her and slowly pumped the tip of his finger inside her.

"It kinda burns, but it's okay." She panted and nodded.

Johnny repeated the same action and watched as she threw her head back in pleasure. He smirked and added a little bit more of his finger inside of her while applying pressure to her clit with his tongue. He felt her legs shake a bit and heard her ragged breath and he couldn't help but think that she was absolutely perfect in those conditions.

She was close and he could see it and feel it.

"Please, Johnny- Oh!" Hearing her moaning his name made him pump his finger faster with the movements of his tongue.

"What do you want?" He groaned against her.

"I want to cum, fuck!"

"Look at me." He demanded. He needed to have her eyes placed on him, it was like a kink for him. "I want you to look at me while you cum on my tongue..."

(Y/N) looked at him but keeping her eyes open was an hard task with that intense pleasure. She wondered where he learned to do that since he said it was his first time, but he probably just was a natural talent.

Just like her.

(Y/N) felt a weird sensation build up in her stomach, a very heavy feeling and she knew what that meant.

"Johnny, i can't!" She panted and tugged harder at his hair, making him groan.

"Cum then, cum for me (Y/N)..."

And she did.

She did while moaning his name repeatedly, trying to look at him while her toes curled behind his back. Johnny had a proud smirk on his wet swollen lips and licked  her fluids with pleasure before standing up to kiss her sweetly on the lips.

(Y/N) still had a ragged breath and was recovering from her orgasm, but she was also scared.

What if he's gonna be an asshole again now and this was just a joke for him? She thought.

They both silently fixed themselves and (Y/N) finally got dressed. Her hair were almost completely dry and she didn't know how to act and wondered why he was so silent now, fixing his hair and clothes infront of the mirror. He looked like nothing happened while (Y/N) was still shocked.

"Will you go out with me this Friday?" He asked and turned around, resting his back against the wall. (Y/N) felt better after his question and gave him a smile.

"Well, usually, boys ask a girl out before they finger fuck her in a changing room-" she grinned and Johnny crossed his arms while letting out a laugh. "But sure, why not."

"Always a tease, aren't you?" He hugged her from behind and (Y/N) felt butterflies in her stomach while he rested his chin on top of her shoulder. "We could go to the Arcade, mh?"

Before she could respond, they heard the voices of the other boys outside of the changing room.

"Johnny!" They shouted. "We have to go, where the hell are you?!"

Johnny sighed and shook his head before speaking again.

"Seems like we are gonna need another shower when we get home, don't you think?"

(Y/N) giggled and gave him a fake disappointed look.

"Yeah, you jerk!" She laughed while putting on her shoes. Johnny gave her a peck on the right cheek and then proceeded to walk away. "Wait, Johnny, have you spied on me while i was under the shower?"

Johnny chuckled and turned his head to look at her.

"Doesn't matter anyway, now."

And after winking at her, he left the changing room with a big proud smile on his face. His mates were shocked when they saw him get out of the girls changing room and howled like little kids.

"Man, what did you do?!" Tommy asked while patting Johnny's shoulder.

Johnny shrugged and smirked.

"Nothing impressive, i'm taking her out on a date on friday."

Bobby was confused and Johnny could see the disappointment written all over his face.

"I thought you wanted to kick her o-"

"There are a lot of things you still don't know about me, dear Bobby" Johnny gave him a friendly slap on the cheek and then saw (Y/N) getting out of the changing room. She waved at everyone and gave a particular smile to Johnny, which he returned. "A lot of things."

[mimisempai]

You are my favorite serendipity

Summary:

Serendipity : the faculty of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for

Greg, who has prepared a dinner party for his colleagues and friends, is surprised to see a guest arrive that he did not expect. However, the surprise is far from being unpleasant and it is not Mycroft who will say the opposite...

Notes:

There are characters that you want to see happy no matter what... and that's the case with these two. And if they can see that they'll be happiest together, even better.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37810006

Rating G - 2165 words

"You must come, Mycroft. It's Lestrade who's cooking."

Greg heard Sherlock's phone call from the kitchen and wondered what had possessed him to invite his brother. Not that he didn't like Mycroft Holmes, on the contrary, but he would never have had the audacity to invite the one he thought was out of his league.

Besides, he didn't cook anything fancy, Lasagna, homemade, the wine and beer were good but cheap, a far cry from the fine food and drink Sherlock's brother was used to. It was supposed to be just a meal between colleagues and friends to celebrate his promotion to Detective Chief Inspector of New Scotland Yard.  A simple, impromptu dinner.John had insisted that he do it at 221B Baker street because Greg's apartment was ridiculously tiny, which Greg could not deny.

Greg was feeling pretty enthusiastic about cooking for everyone, until that very moment. He heard Sherlock continue the conversation with his brother, "You're just saying that because you haven't tasted his cooking, Mycroft. Come on, don't be so uptight, if I can put up with all these people, so can you."

Cocky bastard thought Greg.

Sherlock sighed, "You know everyone. Stop being a lone wolf."

A few seconds later Sherlock resumed, "Well there you go. Oh before you hang up, don't put on one of your usual stuffy suits. There's no one to impress here."

I am already impressed thought Greg ironically. He happens to love Mycroft's posh suits.

He saw with amusement Sherlock's a proud smile on his face as he hang up the phone, satisfied to have had the last word.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Greg was only supposed to cook for Sally, Anderson, Molly, John and Sherlock and Ms. Hudson of course.

People who were positively predisposed towards him. People who would appreciate his cooking, who had already appreciated his cooking for some. People who were nice to him, or almost nice to him. People he didn't need to impress.

Mycroft wasn't supposed to be there. Maybe he should prepare something more elaborate, more impressive.

Sherlock interrupted his thoughts as he entered the kitchen.

"Greg, Mycroft is coming too. But he had to be convinced. You'd better wow him, or he'll never come to our little dinner parties again."

Thanks Sherlock for the extra pressure.

Anyway, he wasn't going to change the menu now. As he seasoned the salad, he watched the lasagna cook in the oven.

Until the doorbell rang.

Sherlock poked his head through the kitchen door, "You're the host, you open the door."

Greg rolled his eyes at Sherlock's antics but nevertheless headed for the door.

It was Sherlock's brother. Greg swallowed quietly because Mycroft had actually followed his brother's advice and instead of wearing his usual suit, jacket and tie, he wore black pants, a casual jacket and an open white shirt. Perfect as usual. And Greg realized, mortified, that he was still wearing his apron.

Well done Greg, you're well on your way to impressing him, that's for sure.

"Good evening. Um. Dinner should be ready in ten minutes. Make yourself at home."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, probably at Greg's outfit, and followed Greg into the kitchen with a half smile on his face, waving to the people there as he went.

Greg undid his apron and turned to Mycroft, "A glass of wine?"

"With pleasure." replied Mycroft without losing his little smile.

Greg went to grab a glass, filled it and handed it to Mycroft, completely oblivious to the animated discussions in the other room. As if the presence of the man had eradicated everything in the world of Greg who was only conscious of him.

To give himself composure, he opened the oven to watch the lasagna cooking, perfectly conscious of Mycroft's gaze in his back.

Greg wondered why he didn't join the group who were surely having a more interesting conversation than they were and turned to ask Mycroft when the other man, not losing his smile, said in a velvety tone, "If it tastes as good as it smells, I'm sure I'll enjoy it."

For the first time since Mycroft's arrival, Greg could smile in a relaxed manner. He put it down to small victories.

A little later, they were all sitting in John and Sherlock's living room. Everyone had helped out, except Sherlock, who preferred to give advice on the angle of the napkin folding and the way to set the table. Even Mycroft had more than once offered to fill the glasses.

When they had all helped themselves to the lasagna, Greg would be lying if he said he wasn't looking at Sherlock's brother in secret, waiting for Mycroft to take the first bite, waiting to see if he thought his cooking was passable, at least.

Greg's eyes widened as Mycroft let out a moan of delight at the first bite. He hurriedly took a bite himself to hide his reaction.

"Mm. You weren't lying, little brother, Gregory can cook. My compliments, Detective chief inspector."

Mycroft stared at him with his silver eyes, emphasizing the last three words, then raising his glass to him, he added, "Congratulations on your promotion by the way."

Greg decided to put that on the side of small victories, too.

Much later, when almost everyone had left after a very pleasant evening, only John Sherlock, Mycroft and Greg were left.

Greg went to get his coat then greeted the three men and headed for the door. When suddenly he was stopped by Mycroft's voice, "Gregory."

If he knew the effect his full first name in his mouth was having on Greg, Mycroft would not say it again.

Mycroft, oblivious to Greg's thoughts, continued, "You're taking the bus right?"

Greg turned and nodded.

Mycroft put on his coat while saying, "Let me drive you home. Well, me and my driver."

Seeing Greg's hesitation, Mycroft continued, "Please, it's the least I can do after this gorgeous dinner."

Greg tried to respond as soberly as possible, so as not to show how pleased he was with the situation, and obediently followed Mycroft to a car parked a little further down the street.

Once in the car and sitting side by side, Greg remained silent for a few moments after the car started, not knowing what to say.

It was Mycroft who broke the silence, "Where did you learn to cook like that?"

Greg sighed quietly, first hurdle passed, it was easy for him to answer that.

"When you live alone, after a while you want to vary the dishes, so I gleaned recipes here and there from my mother, friends, the internet, until I had a handful of easy and gastronomical recipes."

Mycroft smiled at him, a gleam in his eye that Greg had never seen before. Not that he spent his time looking into Mycroft's eyes, of course.

"I wish I had time to cook. It was... nice tonight. Thanks for letting me be a part of it. I hear from Molly that you're used to this kind of... little impromptu things?"

Greg shrugged and replied, "My parents are gone and I don't have any other family, so I guess this is kind of a way for me to reunite with the people who are close to me."

A silence answered him, before Mycroft said in a strange voice, "Well…that’s very thoughtful of you and... thanks again for letting me be a part of it."

Greg swallowed and replied, "My pleasure."

He was suddenly aware of their proximity in the car. Of the intimacy created by the absence of light and the brushing of their legs in some turns.

Greg tried to put on a self-assured face that he was far from feeling and said, "Sherlock warned me that if you didn't like my cooking, you'd never come again. So can we count on you for the next few times?"

Greg knew he was taking a risk but what did he have to lose after all? It wouldn't be the first time he'd been put in his place by a Holmes.

Mycroft remained silent and looked at him for a long time.

Noticing where they were, Greg exclaimed to break the awkward silence, "My apartment is on the next street."

"Gregory, did you know that Sherlock invited me here tonight because I asked him to?"

Greg thought he must have misheard and retorted, "What?"

Mycroft repeated calmly, "I asked him to call me, next time you have one of your dinners."

"Oh. Because you heard about my cooking? How could that be, by the way." Greg realized, and sighed, "Sherlock..."

"But why? I mean, why would you want to come to one of my dinners?"

Greg was becoming increasingly puzzled by the turn the conversation was taking.

The car had just stopped in front of the building where his apartment was located and Greg was seriously considering running out of the car.

Mycroft shook his head and, sliding a little closer to Greg to the point where their thighs were touching, he said a little softer, "Well for the company."

"The company?"

Mycroft didn't answer and continued, "And also to test the theory of Sherlock's claim that the Detective Chief Inspector is enamored with me."

Greg felt his blood run cold in his veins, he would not be a plaything in the hands of the Holmes brothers, nor would he be an object of wager or experiment. He began to back away towards the door, wanting to escape this situation as quickly as possible. He was going to go home, open a beer or a pack and tomorrow he would have forgotten everything.

He tried not to look too ridiculous and try to keep his dignity as he said, "I'm sorry, but Sherlock is going to have to stop playing with his friends' feelings like he's looking at them through a microscope. And you should stop playing his game. This is getting real-"

He was interrupted by Mycroft's finger just touching his lips to silence him, "Sherlock added, he's really blind not to realize it's mutual."

In surprise, Greg raised his head sharply and thanks to the light of the street lamp, he finally saw Mycroft's expression.

He was smiling gently and had a look on his face that Greg had never seen before.

He swallowed, "But... what did you just say?"

Mycroft, still with the same expression on his face, shook his head and replied with a soft chuckle, "You don't want to make me say that again, do you Gregory?"

Greg regained some confidence and replied in a playful tone, "Well actually, I think I'd really like to hear that again. Just to be sure."

Mycroft's smile widened and now he had the same playful glint in his eye as Greg, "If you really want to be sure, I can show you."

Greg held Mycroft's gaze as he leaned toward him.

His smile never left him as Mycroft kissed him.

And God, he was a good kisser. Greg grabbed the lapels of Mycroft's coat and kissed him back with the same intensity. He never imagined that Mycroft would be the one to initiate their first kiss. Greg never imagined Mycroft's hands on him. Mycroft's hands, moving from his shoulders to his neck to his face. Mycroft's hands on Greg's face. Thumbs caressing Greg's cheekbones.

When they separated to catch their breath, Greg laughed lightly and said, "If I'd known that all it took was a home-cooked meal, I would have invited you from the start."

"We weren't ready yet," Mycroft murmured softly, looking at him gently.

Greg nodded slowly and couldn't resist.He leaned in and kissed Mycroft again, briefly, before pulling back letting his hands linger on the lapels of Mycroft's coat.

He swallowed and asked softly, hesitantly, "And now?"

Mycroft grabbed one of his hands and kissed his palm before replying, keeping Greg's hand in his, "And now we each go home, and see what happens."

Greg nodded and leaning in toward Mycroft, he pressed a final kiss to his lips before whispering, "So good night, Mycroft."

Mycroft squeezed his hand gently before releasing it, "Good night, Detective Chief Inspector. Sweet dreams."

Greg got out of the car and leaning over he said softly, "I'm sure they will be."

As he closed the door, he heard Mycroft's vox, "Mine too, Gregory, mine too."

So he headed for the door of his residence and not caring how it would look, he didn't hesitate to look back at Mycroft one last time and didn't regret it. It seemed that Mycroft had as little scruples as he did since he had opened the window of the car and was ostensibly watching Greg. They exchanged a last smile before Greg closed the door on him.

He barely had time to put his keys down when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

I'll call you tomorrow morning. M. x

Received 00:30

Perfect. Good night Mycroft. G. x

Send 00:31 Seen

_________

There will probably be a sequel. I'm not good with writing multi chapters stories so it will probably be like a series of one shots, snippets about the evolution of their relationship.

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Mystrade masterlist here

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 11 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

<- Previous part (10)

Next part (12) ->

{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

Guilt

The first feeling to wash over him when he opens his eyes is bliss. Pure, and utter bliss, a kind of happiness he didn't even know existed. Seeing (Y/N) peacefully sleeping on his chest is more than he deserves... And that's when it kicks in, and the joy is corrupted, overcome by guilt.

He can't believe what he did. He betrayed her on a whole other level. This isn't fair to her, not when she believes they're married. He's too buried in this lie, and last night, he did the only thing he never thought he'd do.

But how could he not? He's in love with her, he wants to be the father of her child, and there are times, and they come more often every passing day, that he's completely overcome by the fake life he's living. There are moments where Keanu is her husband. The lines are so blurry right now that he can't separate things. He can't tell the difference anymore.

Running a hand through his hair, looking at the ceiling, he smiles as she moves a little in her sleep, snuggling closer to him, a warm hand on his bare chest. (Y/N) is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. And everything drives him in. Her voice, her smile, her laughter. The way she walks, the way she talks to her unborn child when she thinks he's not listening.

He tried. He really did, but look how much he failed.

All this had an expiration date. And in the very beginning, he couldn't wait for that day. When she would remember and would go on with her life, picking it up where she left it, and forget about him. But with time, things changed. And now, he knows he can keep this up forever. (Y/N) won't remember, and Keanu can make this real. Fake the papers, he knows people who could do it. She'd be his wife.

But his love is too strong to do such a thing. He can't bring himself to do this. He has to tell her, everything. The lie, the reason, and explain it wasn't his idea. He also needs to tell her about his feelings, because they're the only real thing in this mess. And if the heavens listen to his prayers, if some kind of miracle happens, maybe, just maybe, she'd still love him. Marry him, for real this time.

Keanu could only hope. The pregnancy is not at risk anymore, and despite the doctors saying he should still keep the act, Dr. Harris assured him (Y/N) is strong enough now. And he has to tell her. And so he will. He just needs some time away from all this, away from this place, to enjoy this while he still can because he knows how insane it is. That the chances are she'll go to Argentina with her mother-in-law, and he'll never see her again. And if that really happens, he won't blame her.

Because after everything he did, for taking her as if she was his last night, he doesn't deserve this bliss. But he wants it, and he can't bring himself to end this without some more time with her. Something he will remember and cherish for the rest of this life if this is bound to break.

The morning light is what welcomes you back to consciousness. Closing your eyes tight before opening them up, you take a deep breath. The air is cold, you can feel it on your bare shoulders, but the warmth coming from Keanu keeps you from complaining. The first thing you remember is what happened last night, and your cheeks go red. Smiling a little, you softly caress Keanu's chest with your thumb, not sure if he's awake yet.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He says, and your smile only gets brighter. You love the pet name.

“Morning.” Pushing yourself up with your elbows, you place a kiss on his chest, right on his heart, then on his collarbone before finally reaching his lips. “Did you sleep well?” The question was supposed to be simple, but the smirk comes from somewhere inside you and you're sure it just changed the intonation of the thing.

“Very well.” He mutters, a hand coming to caress your cheek. Keanu sounds weird, a weight on his voice.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you let yourself sink back to bed, lying beside him. “Did I... Did I do something wrong last night?” You can't help but ask, the euphoria vanishing quickly as you try to understand why he seems so... Sad.

“Of course not.” Turning on his side and encircling your waist with a strong arm, pulling you closer, he shakes his head lightly. “It was amazing. You were amazing.”

“Then what's wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, sweetheart. Everything is so perfect that it looks like a dream.” As he speaks, you move closer, feeling as his hand rubs the small of your back.

“Uhm... I think–” The doorbell cuts you off. “Who could that be?” It sounds like a whine.

“Lucia.”

“What?” Moving away from him, you sit up. “What is she doing here?”

“She came to visit you.”

“Oh...” Who could blame you for forgetting she was coming today? You're not a fan of her, and what's going on here is far better. “Can't we just–” The cold air on your torso makes you pull the sheets to shield your body, trying really hard not to let Keanu notice how red you must be. “Can't we just pretend we're not here and stay the whole day in bed?” You're not even done speaking when the doorbells rings again.

“She already dislikes me, if you don't show up, it'll make it even worse.” Sitting up, he pulls you into a kiss. “I'll dress up and open the door for her. Go take a shower. I'll make you something to eat.”

“Alright.” Sighing, you purposely climb past him to get off the bed. Keanu gives you a look, that you choose to ignore, pulling the sheets with you as you move to the bathroom.

“One more thing.” He calls out, right before you close the bathroom door shut.

“What?”

“You don't need to cover up. You're beautiful.”

Moving to the side so the door will hide your face, you bite your lip. “Thanks, babe.” You manage to push out, closing the door.

Once you're done washing yourself, you put your hair up on a ponytail and a light blue dress. Taking one of Keanu's hoodies to protect you from the coat, you move downstairs, and the only reason why you're smiling is because you smell of bacon. It was the first breakfast Keanu made you, and it feels kinda nostalgic. It is one of the oldest memories you have.

“(Y/N),” Lucia calls as you're making your way to the kitchen. Keanu looks over his shoulder, and you give him a forced smile before turning on your heels and moving to the living room. “I missed you so much!” Lucia pulls you into a hug.

“Hi, Lucia. How's everything?” You don't like Lucia. And Lucia doesn't like your husband. And Keanu, being a gentleman, won't admit he can't stand her, but you know that's how he feels.

“I'm great. Tell me about you.” You both move to the couch, taking a seat. “How's the baby? Have you come up with a name yet?”

“We're still thinking... But we agreed on not telling people until we know for sure.” Deciding to just let it out before she asks, you try not to let her notice you feel a little uncomfortable when she touches your belly.

“Have you... Have you considered Daniel?” Lucia asks, her voice breaking a little. Shrugging your shoulders, you shake your head no. “D-doesn't this name mean anything to you?”

Obviously not. But you won't be a bitch about it. “No, it doesn't.”

“Alright.” She mumbles, clearing her throat. “So, how's this little one?”

“He's great.” You say, a hand coming to your belly.

“Or she,” Keanu adds, and you roll your eyes.

“Quit spying on me, babe.” You raise your voice, and there's only a low giggle in response.

“Is he spying on you?” Despite the clear joking tone you had, Lucia sounds... Genuinely worried.

Chuckling at her expression, you sigh. “We're just joking around, Lucia.”

“Honey...” She takes both your hands on hers, as she does right before telling you how you can trust her if Keanu does anything. It's quite tiring, actually. She can't seem to understand he's a good person. Maybe it's the age thing... But that's not her business.

“I know what you'll say, Mrs. Davis, and I assure you there's nothing to worry about. Keanu is a gentleman, he hasn't pushed me into anything.” You don't want to talk to her about that, but you don't have a choice. Every time this happens, you just hope to say the right thing to make her let it go. “Everything we've done was because I was ready.”

“What do you mean by everything you've done?” Her tone changes suddenly, a lot harsher than before, and her hands squeeze yours.

You weren't talking about that... And you didn't think that was exactly where her mind would float too. “Mrs. Davis, this is between me and Keanu.”

She giggles, fake and loud, and in a sudden motion, Lucia gets up, walking fast to the kitchen. “What did you do to her?” She's already yelling when you finally reach the kitchen, a finger on Keanu's face.

“Mrs. Davis, I–” He starts, but you won't let him do this. Lucia was your mother's ‘friend’, or so she says, and you won't let her put Keanu in this position.

“What do you think you're doing?” Moving to stand between him and Lucia, you raise her voice above hers. “What gives you the right to come to my house, put your nose in my life, and yell at my husband?” Being rude wasn't the intention, but you're suddenly angry. Blame it on the hormones, blame it on the fact that you don't like Lucia at all, or on the fact that she ruined a perfectly good morning.

“Am I supposed to smile and nod when you go around letting him have you?” Her disgusted tone takes you by surprise. Why is she talking like this? What's wrong with this woman?

“My private life is not your business, and if you haven't been paying attention, Keanu is my husband.” Stepping forward, you stare into her eyes. “And I won't have you talking like this.”

Lucia laughs, pacing around a little, a hand covering her mouth as if you just told a joke.

“This man is not–”

“That's enough.” Keanu suddenly shouts, and it startles both of you. You never heard him yelling, and that's completely new. “I won't let you speak like that in my house. I know you're important to (Y/N), but the only thing I won't allow is you ruining her progress. If you keep this up, I'll have to let her doctor know about your behavior around his patient.”

After his thunder voice is gone, you're left in silence. Deep, uncomfortable, tense silence. Lucia seems to be broken though, her face dropped, and both her arms rest on the sides of her body. “I think you should leave now, Mrs. Davis.” You say in a low voice.

She nods, eyes on Keanu. “You'll pay for what you're doing.” Is the last thing she says before storming away, taking her purse and leaving the house, pulling the front door so violently you wonder if she broke something.

Running a hand through your hair, you take a deep breath, turning at Keanu. “What the hell was that?” You mutter, still trying to understand that just happened.

“Are you alright?” He comes closer, and you immediately collapse on his chest.

“I'm alright. She's a bitch.”

“Don't think about it. Let's eat.”

Nodding, you wash yesterday's dishes as he finishes breakfast, and you both sit down to eat. Power is back, thankfully, so you decide to watch some TV as he showers. Laura calls, and you invite her over for dinner. Keanu will have a co-worker, so you'll just need to add another plate. And, after all this, you need to talk to someone.

You're skipping through the channels when Keanu comes back downstairs, and when he settles down next to you, you immediately snuggle closer, until you're pretty much lying down, and you're the little spoon, back pressed against his chest.

“I invited Laura for dinner.” You tell him, still looking for something to watch.

“Are you planning on setting her up with Robert?”

“Is Robert single?” You didn't have this in mind, but now you do.

“He is.”

“Then I'm setting her up with Robert.” You quickly make your mind, carefully turning around on the couch so you're facing Keanu. “I'm sorry, by the way. I didn't think Lucia would explode like that.”

“It's alright, beautiful.” He smiles, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I was thinking... We should take a trip. Two weeks and only if your doctors say it's alright, of course. Just so we could stay away from all this for a while.”

Smiling, you peck his lips. “I'd love that. Could we go to the beach?”

“Wherever you want, sweetheart.”

“Will it... Will it be like a second honeymoon?” You can't remember the first, but you figure it's no good to bring this up now.

Keanu giggles, caressing your chin with his thumb and index finger. “Anything you want.”

“Well, I'll need a new bikini because these two won't feet on the one I have.” You gesture at your breasts, still growing a little. “I could call Laura and we could go shopping.”

“Let me talk to the doctors first. Because there's no way I'm taking you away if they think it will be dangerous.” Keanu reminds you, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright, sir.” Moving on the couch, you start climbing on him, until you're straddling his hips. “But one day I'll be one hundred percent fine. And this won't be a problem anymore.”

“Of course.”

“So... Did you lock the front door?” You ask, placing both your hands on his chest.

“I did. Why?” When you don't answer, but just smiles and sits up, arms around your waist as he captures your lips on a kiss.

• • •

Laura has a perplexed expression on her face as you tell about Lucia. You don't mean to gossip, but Laura is pretty much your best friend, and you need someone from outside to help you understand what the hell happened. Seated on the downstairs balcony, you cross your arms, leg bouncing as you let out the whole story.

“That's crazy.” Laura bursts out. “I get it that you're important to her and everything, but you're an adult, even though you lost your memory. And you have the right to make your own decisions.”

“Thank you.” You breathe out, throwing a hand in the air. “She snapped out of nowhere. And the way she spoke to Keanu? God, I almost considered slapping her in the face.” This makes you giggle, and so does Laura.

“Look, I was... Quite unsure of this in the beginning. But I wanted you to figure things out on your own, and let you know I was there if something happened.” That's true. Laura is always around, and, if anything backfired, if something bad happened between you and Keanu, she'd be the first person you'd call for help. “And with time, I saw that you were doing fine. And I know you love him, and he loves you. I'm sure because I spoke to him myself.” With a sassy smile, she leans back, resting against the chair.

“You did what?”

“I spoke to him.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Nothing matters to me. The age difference, the memory loss, it doesn't matter. The important thing is the feeling. So yes, I called him and had a long conversation about you, and I'm convinced that man in there loves you more than anything. You and this baby.”

Laura sounds so damn sure it brings tears to your eyes. Covering your face with both hands, you start crying. “Stupid hormones!” You exclaim, body shaking with the sobs.

“Oh, (Y/N).” She gets up and hugs you, bending down a little. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

“It's from happiness, so don't worry.” Calming down, you take a deep breath as she pulls a nearby chair and sits next to you. “Anyway... I'm setting you up with Robert tonight. Keanu's friend and co-worker.” You mutter, wiping the tears away. “So let me know if you like him or not, alright?”

“Alright.” She agrees with an eye roll.

Despite having your mind floating to two different things: you and Keanu, and Lucia's outburst, you manage to enjoy dinner. Robert is kind, and you do think this whole thing with him and Laura could work out.

But in the next days, what you really want to know it about the trip. Things have been getting even better between you and Keanu, you're growing a lot closer now that you're both living like a married couple. And going somewhere else with him would be absolutely amazing. At first, Dr. Wright says it's alright, but some exams will be needed to see if it would be safe. Dr. Harris on the other hand said that you're ready. Your mind is ready, and you hope with all your heart that your body is too.

It takes too many days for Dr. Wright and the others to finally allow you to go. But only for two weeks, and whatever you'll be staying, it has to be near a hospital, just in case. Keanu said something about having a helicopter ready to take you back to New York if something happens, but you don't want to believe he'd do such a thing.

But when you're getting inside the plane, heading to Miami, you're cheerful. You're determined to make this trip amazing, for both of you. This is a mark, a rite of passage. From this day on, you'll forget what happened, you'll forget that you lost something. You can either suffer for the rest of your life for everything you lost or enjoy what you have. And you'll enjoy it because what you have right now is wonderful.

×

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303

[goldenmaybank]

no strings ~ scout’s writing challenge

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: jj and y/n have had a no strings attached agreement for years, but that statement couldn’t be farther from the truth.

warnings: swearing, cheating, implied sex, and slight fluff 

word count: 2.2k

this is my entry for @ptersparkers​ writing challenge! hope you all enjoy :)

no strings attached. that was the agreement we made back in freshman year. it's now junior year and that agreement still stands. no feelings involved, just pure fun, but how do you not fall for his big blue eyes and bright smile. it was only meant to be for one night, but one night soon turned into two then three and now i've lost count how many nights we've spent together. almost every night for this past year he’s slept in my bed under my silk sheets with our bodies intertwined with one another. i constantly convince myself it's nothing more than having fun but every time i hear his name i get butterflies and whenever he's near me my heart starts to beat a million times faster. i try to convince myself it's not love, but after being with someone in that way for three years it's impossible for it not to turn into that. but clearly it's possible for him at least. that's why i don't say anything and continue to hide my true feelings because i know he doesn't feel the same way as me and probably never will. i stay up every night with him on my mind and thoughts of what we could be consumes my every thought.

freshman year was the hardest of them all mainly because jj had a girlfriend at the time. i know what i did was wrong but the taste of his lips and the way he touched me that first night was so captivating. i knew from that moment i would never be able to let him go. i tried not to get sucked into him and his player ways, but soon the second night happened and from then it was history. we would meet every thursday night at my place at midnight. he was never late and it made me wonder if he craved my touch as bad as i craved his. we would walk past each other in the streets like we barely knew each other when in reality he knew every curve and mark on my body.

sophomore year was easier than the last since he no longer was with his girlfriend, but also harder because that's when i started catching feelings for him. now since he was single, we could actually be seen together, but still had to be cautious since i was a kook. i never understood the rivalry between the kooks and pogues, but i knew if any of the kooks found out i was with jj all hell would break loose. me and sarah were known as the kook princesses, and since she was dating topper, everyone expected me to date a kook too. before i met jj, i went on a few dates with rafe since thats who my parents wanted me to be with, but after realizing all kook guys are self absorbed assholes, i knew i could never be with any of them. the only kook i can tolerate is sarah, and at times she can even be blinded by the things topper tells her. a couple months into freshman year, i already started to get suffocated at the kook academy and went to the beach to escape, which is where i met kie. the moment i met her we instantly clicked and she invited me to the kegger that they were having that night. thats when i met the rest of the pogues, including jj. we spent the whole night attached at the hip drinking and laughing together. soon enough the guest room at the cheateu was filled with nothing but the sound of our moans. that was the first of many nights we spent there together. 

almost every single day i would meet jj by the beach to spend time with him. whether we were surfing, hanging out on the hms pogue with the others, or eating at the wreck, i just loved being around him. although we weren't together people acted like we were. kie would always say we were unofficially official. soon enough our every thursday night meet-ups became every thursday and friday meet-ups and eventually every night meet-ups. we spent every night together at my place until my parents found out and we needed a new place, so we started hanging out at the chateau.

junior year has been the best one so far. jj and i hung out more in public not caring what anyone else would think and gone on what he calls "non-dates" even though it's exactly what dates are. he's met my younger sister and she absolutely adores him, which now makes me wish we never got our families involved in this since i know he doesn't reciprocate my feelings. i've spent so much time with him that i feel almost empty not being in his arms at night. he knows everything about me and i know everything about him. we've shared all of our secrets and deepest thoughts with each other. i've seen his vulnerable side so much that it's almost impossible for me not to fall in love with him. he's opened up to me and let me in more than anyone else in his life even his best friends. every night is something new with him and i never want it to stop even though i know inevitably it will.

"you remember the second night you stayed at my place and you got scared of my dog" i said laughing as we laid next to each other on my bed talking about our favorite memories together.

"look in my defense, your dog is huge and she woke me up out of my sleep." jj said chuckling slightly.

"she was just being friendly and you wouldn't stop screaming. almost woke up my damn parents."

"don't act like you haven't almost woken up john b before with your clumsy ass. you almost knocked over his whole desk trying to get into the room."

"i'm sorry i'm not an expert at climbing through windows like you."

"well when you've had a lot of practice you know how to." he said cockily.

"oh shut up." he laughed as i tiredly punched his arm, "you know damn well i was the first window you came through." i said sassily.

"you're right. you were."

"wait really? so jj maybank has never snuck into another girl's house before? i'm surprised."

"why?" he asked as he turns his body towards me and moves me so i face him.

"i don't know i guess with your reputation i thought you would've been with a bunch of girls before me."

"you wanna know the truth? you're the first girl i've ever slept with."

"wait what?" i sat up against the headboard looking at him confusingly, "what about your ex or all those tourons you would flirt with?"

"all we would do is flirt and make out a little, but it never went any further. either i was always drunk or they were and i never wanted that to be my first time, you know? and with my ex we were only fourteen and dated for a few months. i told you before i never really felt anything for her. it was all just so i could know what it felt like to be a boyfriend.”

“but we were only fourteen, when we..”

“i know, but it was different with you. you are different.”

"so, that means you were a virgin when we first-"

"yup." he said admittedly.

"wow. well i couldn't tell." i joked.

jj looked at me and chuckled slightly, but i could tell something was off with him. his eyes didn't have the same brightness as usual.

"what's wrong?"

"what do you mean? nothings wrong."

"jj, you can't lie to me. i've known you for way too long and i know when somethings wrong, so what's up."

"i don't know. i-" he sighs deeply as he looks at up at me, "it's just- is that what you think of me? that i'm just some player who fucks any girl that throws herself at me."

"what? no. of course not. i just assumed-"

"because that's not who i ever wanted to be." he said cutting me off, "i never wanted to be like- like my dad, you know?” he says as he looks down at his hands, fiddling with them, “as much as he claims he loved her, he treated my mom like shit. he would get drunk and mess around with a bunch of women because he could never commit. i never wanted to be like that. i never wanted to make a girl feel the way my mom felt. she was so heartbroken when he would come back home smelling of perfume and lie to her face. eventually, she had enough of it and just got up and left. kinda wish she took me with her. but i told myself i would never be like that and then i realized i was. back in freshman year when i cheated on my ex-"

"with me" i looked at him sympathetically understanding why what i said bothered him so much, "look, j you're nothing like your dad. i know i've never met him but from what you told me about him you two are completely different people. you’re nothing like that cheating, abusive asshole, okay? you're such a sweet, kindhearted person who always puts others before yourself, especially when it comes to your friends. i've never seen someone care so much about others than you. you have such a pure, kind soul and nothing will ever change that. i know you cheated on her with me and it probably wasn't the right choice, but it sure as hell wasn't a mistake and i won't call it that. being with you was never a mistake for me and i hope you feel the same about it but this" i say as i motion between us, "will never be something that i regret. i know i've said this before but i believe that this was meant to be and we were meant to find each other. the circumstance might not have been the best, but i found you and that's all that matters. you're nothing like him and never will be."

we both laid in silence looking up at the ceiling while raindrops hit the window softly. i started to wonder if maybe i said something wrong or said too much. i feel so deeply for him and whenever he tries to put himself down it breaks my heart. in my eyes he's the perfect guy despite all his faults. sometimes i think one day i'll tell him how i feel and scare him off which is the last thing i want to do. i want to be able to have these moments with him for as long as i can.

"you know, i want to get married before i have kids." jj said breaking the silence.

"that's random, but alright." i said giggling.

"i was just thinking about my parents and they had me before they even thought of marriage. i think that's where they could've went wrong. maybe if they would've taken the time to actually bound their love together before having a kid, they could've lasted longer. after they had me he could never commit fully because of all the responsibility, so maybe if they already took that step to "finalize" their love he would've stayed." he said shrugging.

"well i always wanted to have kids before i get married because i want my kids to be apart of my wedding."

"i guess we could just have two weddings then."

"huh?" i said confusingly finally looking at him.

he looks back at me and sighs, "yeah, i mean since you want one before and i want one after, we can just have two. we have the real one before and then we can renew our vows and have a second wedding with our kids so they can experience it with us."

"so, we're gonna get married and have kids?" i said smirking at him.

"i-i mean i guess. obviously only if you want to." jj said blushing as he started to look anywhere but at me.

i grab his face so he's looking at me, "i would love to, jj."

we both smile at each other as he pulls me closer to him connecting our lips. when we pull apart, i cuddle up into his chest as we continue to lie in silence. i feel my heart flutter as i feel his hands rub my back soothing me. being in his arms felt like home and i only hope he feels the same. as i start to think about how it would be if we were actually dating, the same words he would always say when we started this repeat in my mind "this is only for fun. no strings attached. no feelings. just pure fun." maybe that's all this will truly ever be, just fun, and that's the thought i have before falling asleep in his arms.

×

when i know she's asleep, i just stay awake and admire how she looks in the moment. even sleeping she has a slight smile on her face, which makes me wonder what she's dreaming about. sometimes i wish it was me she's dreaming about even though i know it's not. "just for fun" i remind myself of the words i said but that couldn't have been more of a lie, especially now more than ever. of course what we had was fun, but it was way more than that.

"i love you" i say as i kiss her forehead and wrap my arms tighter around her soon falling asleep as well.

[tragertrap]

Intimidating || Juice Ortiz x Reader

Summary: (Y/N), although Jax's best friend, wants nothing to do with the motorcycle club that's fucking up her town. Well, at least that's the case until she meets a certain member of SAMCRO with a stupid haircut. Even though he seems too intimidating at first, (Y/N) learns to never judge a book by its cover when she gets a chance to see his softer side.

Having a best friend that works at an automotive repair shop definitely comes in handy for (Y/N), especially since her 'old ass disaster of a car' constantly breaks down.

"Wow, that's the 3rd time in a month (Y/N)!", Jax said before he let out a chuckle.

"You know I'm saving for a new one asshole." She hit his bicep playfully.

"I hope the best friend discount is still on", she mumbled.

"It expired after the forth time you used it darling."

"I'm sorry. It's just that... money's kinda tight right now."

"I can imagine..."

"Can I pay you back in pancakes?... or waffles? I know you won't deny waffles." She asked with an awkward smile on her face, hoping her best friend would accept.

"Have you not pay for the car AND poison me with your cooking? I think I'll pass", he teased her.

"I meant going to the diner outside of town but since you're being an asshole I guess the offer is off the table."

"Okay okay if you're not the one cooking, I'm down", he said, his smirk never leaving his face.

She couldn't help but laugh, thankful for her best friend being there to cheer her up.

"Thank you Jackie."

"My shift ends in half an hour. If you wanna wait we can go for pancakes after I'm done here", he said, putting an arm around her.

She had just left work, so the timing was perfect for a warm meal at a cozy diner with her best friend.

"Yeah, sure! I can wait."

They started walking towards the garage and the blond man started talking again: "You know I'd fix your car for free anyway but then you mentioned pancakes so I couldn't say no."

She narrowed her eyes and looked at him.

"You're lucky I love you Teller."

He laughed and gave her a kiss on the cheek, his arm still around her shoulder.

"Me and Chibs are just finishing off with an old bike and then we're good to go."

"Chibs?" she asked with a raised eyebrow as they were approaching the bike Jax was talking about.

"One of the guys... the Scottish one. Do you ever listen to me when I talk?"

"I was mostly asking because of the weird name but sure... Scottish one. Got it! One of your scary biker friends, right?"

He couldn't help but laugh yet again.

"Scary biker friends?"

(Y/N) loved Jax. The two immediately became best friends at a pretty young age when (Y/N)'s family had moved to Charming next to Gemma and John Teller's house. She loved him the way you'd love a brother, she was always there for him whenever he needed her but one thing she decided to stay completely away from was the club. She wouldn't approve of the outlaw lifestyle in the first place but also witnessing the mess it caused to her town, and most importantly her best friend, was only making it worse. She wouldn't ask any questions in case she'd get answers she wouldn't like. He was ok with it. More than ok with it actually. She was an escape for him to a carefree past and a light of positivity in his chaotic present.

She met the 'Scottish one' that was helping Jax fix the old bike and it went better than she expected. Once she got over his pretty intimidating look, scarred face, leather jacket and all, he actually seemed pretty nice and interesting.

She was sitting on a bench next to the two bikers working when she noticed another guy trying to fix a car nearby. Well, it was pretty hard for him to go unnoticed. He had a short dark mohawk and a tattoo on each side of it on his head, wounds on his face from god knows what and tattoos all over his arms and torso, that was now visible since his shirt was long gone. His muscular body was glistening from his sweat in the Californian heat and the muscles on his arms and upper back were moving in sync as he was working on the damaged car.

He had been over that car's engine for what seemed like forever and as much as she hated to admit it, (Y/N) wished she wasn't jealous of an old car. She had noticed the guy before, one of the many times she had to visit TM due to her shitty car, but that day she had the chance to take a 'closer look'.

His left hand was resting on the car's open hood now, giving her a better view of his muscular arm and flexing abs. The focused look on his face, lowered eyebrows and clenched jaw, made him appear even more intimidating and yet attractive, especially when he unconsciously licked his lips in deep thought.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)?" her friend interrupted her watching of the 'show'. "Can you pass me that cloth over there?", he asked as he pointed to a gray piece of cloth on the bench she was sitting.

After that small interruption she was back at unapologetically starting at the tan guy nearby. She guessed that she had missed a lot since a small part of his abs was covered in grease now and his face seemed even angrier after the amount of failed attempts to start the car.

After some more conversation with Jax and Chibs, once she looked over at the mohawk guy again, he had already put his black shirt on, meaning that his job fixing the car was done. Later as he was putting a no-sleeve leather jacket on, which (Y/N) unfortunately recognised, he was aimlessly looking around when he caught the almost-drooling girl looking at him. She immediately dragged her gaze to Jax and Chibs, mostly out of embarrassment as well as some fear of his intimidating look. Next thing she knew, the mohawk guy was strutting confidently towards her and the two bikers, shoulders and arms swaying back and forth. He was wearing a pair of black sunglasses, no one knowing where his brown eyes were focused on.

"Hey brother", Chibs said with a smirk.

He answered with a simple 'hey' and a light hit on Chib's back and then did the same to Jax, after he took off his sunglasses and put them hanging outside his leather jacket's pocket.

(Y/N) didn't know if she should have been mad or relieved that the hot outlaw completely ignored her existence, exactly because he was a hot outlaw. Nevertheless, she was satisfied she could study the biker up close. He was wearing buggy cargo pants with chains hanging from one side near his waist and the black shirt she had noticed earlier was visibly a little too tight on his muscular chest. He put his hands in his pockets, as (Y/N) was staring at the veins and black tattoos on his arms that had started to fade.

"Jax, I wanted to tell you that I can't come with you guys tonight. I have something personal to take care of." He didn't give any further details since his brothers were not the only ones present. He was waiting for an answer from Jax with a frown on his face since the sun was getting into his eyes. (Y/N) noticed how his chocolate brown pupils appeared almost red against the sunlight.

"Yeah, that's okay. We're more than enough for tonight anyway. You can take the evening off."

"Awesome, thank you man", he said with a smirk as he lightly hit Jax's back.

He then shook his head up as an indication of saying goodbye, while maintaining eye contact with (Y/N), before he walked away.

Was that saying goodbye to me as well?

It was a goodbye to everyone.

He was looking at my direction though.

(Y/N) wasn't exactly loving the fact that she was enjoying this.

______

The hot pancakes Jax and (Y/N) were eagerly anticipating finally arrived at the table.

"Thank you darling", the blond biker said to the waitress while intensionally making his voice sound a little deeper. He was smirking the entire time while sitting all laid back, exuding confidence. The young girl gave him a cheeky smile and went her own way.

"Do you ever take a break?" (Y/N) questioned him sarcastically.

"A break of what?" Jax asked, a playful look on his face since he obviously knew what she was talking about.

"Hitting on innocent women."

"She was eyeing me since the minute we walked in."

The only way she could respond was with an unamused look.

"Also don't act all innocent to me. You're worse than I am", he said before letting out a chuckle and taking a big bite of his pancakes.

"What are you talking about? I don't hit on any person on a 18 feet radius, at any given time and place."

"Well yeah, that's because you're too scared to actually hit on them so you just stare from afar."

(Y/N) kicked his leg under the table.

"Ouch", he screamed in a playful manner while rubbing his leg. "You bitch", he whispered.

"That's not true."

"You were staring at Juice the entire time we were at TM. Didn't even say hello to him."

"Staring at what?" She asked while laughing, not even understanding that with the word Juice, Jax was refering to a person.

"The guy back at the garage. Mohawk and tribal tattoos. You were practically drooling over him."

"No I wasn't", she sounded offended.

"You can't hide from me girl. You know that. I know you better than I know myself."

"Ok he's hot... I was looking, yeah... but 'drooling over him' is an overstatement."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say", he raised his eyebrows while taking a sip of water.

"Jax!"

"You weren't even listening to what me and Chibs were saying."

"Actually I was actively trying not to listen to your club... business... stuff."

Jax rolled his eyes at her desperate attempt to change the subject.

"You could've at least say hello, you know. Dude doesn't bite."

"Are you sure about that? He looked like he could bite to me. If I'm being honest I was kinda scared of him."

Jax started laughing. "Scared? Of Juice? I can guarantee you he was more scared of you than you were of him."

"What do you mean?" she asked amused.

"Let's just say that not everyone has their way with women like I do."

"You're an idiot."

"No seriously, he'd get nervous even if he was around a female dog."

"What? He looked pretty confident to me. Intimidating. And scary as I said before."

Jax couldn't help but roll his eyes and sigh. "You know, underneath all the leather and the tattoos, we're still human. Didn't you like Chibs?"

"He was pretty nice I guess. Well, when I could make out what he was saying", she said referring to his thick accent.

"See? And Juice is even... milder...", he was trying to find the right word, "than Chibs. Dude's into technology and computers, coding and shit. He's a total nerd."

"He's still an outlaw biker. Seriously, could you ever imagine me being with someone like that Juice guy?"

"With the stupid haircut of his? Hell no, you deserve way better."

"Jax, I'm serious."

"Well... no, it's not the easiest thing to imagine, but you're full of surprises baby, I know that", he chuckled.

"A mohawk, head tattoos and chains hanging from his pants is a pretty big surprise though, don't you think? And these fucking leather jackets."

"I've told you a million times, they're called kuttes."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"(Y/N), if you can be best friends with me, you can date a guy like Juice, trust me. Also I have chains on my pants too, should I be offended?" he was once again teasing her.

"Yes."

"You should meet him. And by meet him I mean like actually have a conversation." He was trying to find a reason for her to meet the Sons after all those years, meet the other part of him she had been avoiding for so long.

"I'm not getting into your club business shit for some boy, Jackie. Especially a boy with a fucking mohawk."

"I'm not asking you to get into the club shit. Trust me, I wouldn't want that", he was all serious now, "I'm just saying that you can meet the guys. They are my family. They... they're a part of me. You met Chibs, he was ok. You know we don't only talk about dead bodies and guns. We have other interests as well."

She was quiet, not knowing how to respond, so he continued:

"We are family (Y/N). They've been there for me through my hardest times, just like you have. Maybe you have more things in common than you think. Besides, I think you and Juice would make a great duo", he told his best friend, smirking after the last sentence.

_____

A few days later (Y/N) was heading to TM once again. She had agreed with Jax that when she'd come to pick up her car, she'd come in the clubhouse to meet the guys for the first time.

So there she was, nervous, walking slowly towards the clubhouse entrance. Second thoughts were taking over her mind.

I don't know if I'm ready for this. I'm not meant to be involved in this kind of stuff... with these kind of people. What am I supposed to have in common with a bunch of criminal bikers? If only it wasn't for this dumb, scary, hot ass Juice dude.

To her surprise the dumb, scary, hot ass Juice dude was sitting by himself on a bench outside the clubhouse.

Shit, shit, shit. Ok. Go talk to him. No I can't go talk to him. I have to walk right by him anyway, I should talk to him. What am I supposed to say? I can just say hello. Or hey. God just look away.

Juice was looking down at something so she hoped he wouldn't look up at her. She was getting closer, still overthinking.

I should ask him about my car. Or Jax... yeah, I should ask him where Jax is.

Juice looked up giving her a small smile that made her knees weak.

"Hey... you're Jax's friend right? If you're looking for him he's probably in the clubhouse", the tan biker spoke first, making everything way easier for her. The truth is he did know who she was, that's for sure. 'Jax's cute bubbly friend whose car was breaking down constantly.'

"Awesome, thank y-" she didn't finish her sentence. She had felt something against her ankles, so she looked down. To her surprise there was a small gray kitten slithering between her legs and rubbing its small head against her ankles.

"I think she likes you", Juice said with a wide smile, the kind where his eyes smile as well. Apparently that's why he was looking down earlier.

"It took her weeks to trust me and stop running away from me and now she's all up on you the minute she meets you. I'm kind of offended actually", he said before letting out an adorable laugh, while spreading his right arm close to (Y/N)'s shoes, making the kitten rub its face on his big palm. He eventually grabbed it and put it gently on his lap where he was sitting.

A 'badass' biker dressed in black leather, full of tattoos and with a fucking knife hanging off his belt, petting a small kitten that was purring loudly on his lap. The contrast in this image was pretty apparent, to say the least. (Y/N) was sitting there taking in this unusual sight before he spoke again:

"She's a stray. Found her by some trash cans a few weeks ago and fed her. Now she won't leave." He was busy petting the cat, only looking up to face (Y/N) by his last sentence.

What he said, along with his big smile at the end, warmed her heart. Maybe bikers do have feelings after all. He suddenly didn't appear all scary to her. She sat on the bench next to him and although confident, it took all the courage she had.

"Why don't you take her to the animal shelter?" she asked while petting the cute kitten that was still on his lap.

"I wanted to... but I couldn't", a loud laugh escaping his lips. "I tried, I promise", he added while raising his hands in the air in an 'I'm innocent' motion. "I mean look at that face."

The cat was looking up at them, its green eyes shining. She was still petting it, when her hand accidentally brushed against Juice's.

"She's so cute", (Y/N) said after a few moments of silence while looking at the kitten, in order to change the sudden awkward atmosphere.

"She is", he said softly while looking at the cat and then up to the girl next him, not knowing who he was referring to either.

"I wanted to take her home but I'm too busy for a pet, you know, with the club an' all. I'm not even home that much. I wouldn't want to neglect her."

"I've always wanted a cat, but never really made the decision. I... I would love to get her... Well, if you're okay with that of course."

"Yeah, of course", he exclaimed all excited, "it breaks my heart knowing she's out here day and night. Getting her a home is everything I could ask for... you're gonna have to let me visit her though."

A sexy smirk appeared on his face and (Y/N) responded with a lovely smile. Maybe meeting the club wasn't such a bad idea after all.

[johns-prince]

TW for eating disorders, etc.

John OP here. Thanks for the beautifully written answer. I appreciate the honesty and in fact, you make very good points. I doubt I'd be the best influence on someone like John when it came to body image because we seem too alike in that department. I was a teenager in the size zero hysteria of the early 00s and this probably shaped my sense of aesthetics. I'm more relaxed about that now but my eye still responds to a certain look on people. I can't help it. I had my own "Fat Beatle" episode and I could tell how it all changed when I shed the weight. It didn't really matter how or whether I was miserable, I just looked the "right" way and people would let me know. It's possible I projected it all on poor John. But I know he'd relate to that in many levels.

I'm not a fan of the "rat man" thing either. I know people mean well and I try to look at it with humor but it does bother me. Mostly because the stans of the other boys are very positive about them and I'd like that for John too. His looks were a major part of his struggle so I know he'd be crushed watching everyone praising his mates (especially Paul) while he gets to be the fucking rat, you know? As I have mentioned before, you can feel it even on fanfiction. Even the writers who seem more John inclined will go on for pages about how pretty Paul (which he is, of course) and how lucky John was to be with him. Like it was a favor or something. That when the stories don't keep pushing that tired trope about Crazy John crushing on pretty but Immovable Sexuality Paul. That's not really my cup of tea tbh.

In the end I'm just happy to start this discussion

with intelligent people who will bring their opinions to the table respectfully. I hope my previous comment didn't trigger anyone or came across as worse than I hoped. If that was the case, I'd like to apologize, it really wasn't my intention.

Darling, don't fret. You've really nothing to be sorry about. One reason why I relate to John is because I have issues with bulimia to this day, and can experience hardcore body dysmorphia at the worst of times dues to my insecure and self hatred towards my body. I get it.

I remember that, vaguely at least, the whole size zero thing. I do, that was such a strange phenomenon, because it takes a certain body type to fit it naturally, or... Y'know, starving yourself.

Anyway, I think we all sort of project on our favorite boy, and we all sort of see ourselves in them too. You wouldn't be the first, and certainly won't be the last.

Yeah, I completely understand how you feel. Maybe I'm just overreacting, maybe I don't have a sense of humor, but I'm inclined to feel protective over John, and I feel like if you know about John's insecurities and struggles with himself in regards to his physical appearance, why... Would you yourself find it a silly and relatively harmless thing to apparently joke about calling him things like that, idk like I said I don't see anyone else really making such snide comments and quips when it comes to the other three. So at what time did the bandom just agree it was an acceptable thing to do towards John?

Whatever, people can do and say what they like y'know free country an' all, but I don't have to approve of it or like it.

Real talk, I low-key I am guilty of writing in that way but I primarily do it as if John feels that way, or thinks it, or feels it. Due to his insecurity and self doubt, the fear that he'll always be abandoned by those he holds dear and loves, the fear that it's all just too good to be true for him-- that's why I ever write a scene when it comes to Paul, that it's just John's way of thinking, not seeing his own worth, and ends up sort of idolizing those individuals (listen John once compared Paul to a religion that he knew/had so I feel like he idolized and saw Paul in this 'oh God he's too perfect oh no' sort of light, which both terrified and fed into the 'paul's going to leave me one day he'll figure it out that he doesn't need me I'm not enough' sort of mindset too) he just had a bit of a habit doing that to those he held intimately dear, until... They let him down or proved his insecurities and doubts right, that in the end they all leave him and don't actually love him. It's a cruel self fulfilling prophecy in a sense, since John, either consciously or subconsciously, put relationships and people through tests to see if they could withstand him and his antics, if they'd stay loyal, if they'd still love him. Sometimes he'd just push people away, and then feel like they just up and abandoned him...

I'm rambling. Anyway the point, your point, still stands! Their relationship shouldn't be written as one doing the other a favor for liking them and being with them! Maybe in reality people did think Paul was doing not only John a favor for being his partner but also a favor to everyone else, because John had Paul and Paul could be seen as the one handling John's lead. It's kind of like how some peer at John's art school thought Cynthia had done them all a favor for taking John.

I don't like that. John isn't some problem to be passed onto someone who must then bear the burden of him. That's just... Wrong. And I think both Cynthia and Paul would think so too. John could be challenging but geez, it shouldn't be made out like anyone who loved John and wanted to be around him and be with him was just some sort of favor to the world or to him.

If anything John and Paul were both extremely lucky to have found each other-- it's not exactly common for soulmates to find each other, especially at such a young age? Please. Most of us will never, which is common.

Like the crushing went both ways lol if anything it's Paul who crushed first-- while John never mentioned it, Paul had brought up how he'd noticed John long before meeting him at the Fete. They had even briefly talked at a newspaper shop which Paul had been working at. He'd see John on the streets, he'd notice him riding on the top deck of buses, or in line at the fish and chips-- he'd try and steal glances at John when he'd notice him on the same bus! Paul was instantly drawn to this tough looking teddy with big sideboards and greased hair and the drainies and a roguish air about him. He was like a schoolgirl with a crush, and he didn't even know this boy. Yet.

If anything it's Paul who noticed John first, and started crushing on John first. Then they finally were introduced at the local Fete, and that was it for both of them.

And let's be real John might've been a bit crazy, but Paul loved him, loved his touch of crazy. And Paul might be immoveable heterosexuality, but that goes straight out the window when it comes to John, and only John it appears.

So yeah, I get where you're coming from, and your grievances and perspective.

I'm glad you decided to share it with me! Sorry about my rambling (• ▽ •;)

[inglourious-imagines]

The Story of Their Lives (Lt. Aldo Raine)

Requested by: @tealaquinn

Summary: The story of Lt. Aldo Raine and Sgt. Y/N Y/L/N.

Prompts: 9 - Don't you touch her. & 12 - No one would hurt you again, or I'd kill them. & 21 - I wanna see how you lose control. & 24 - He's a badass with a good heart. & 39 - Kiss me. & 93 - You make me feel... you make me feel.

Author's Note: This is damn long so I really hope you like it! Also there are some parts in Italian so I'd like you to know, I've never learnt this language so there might be some mistakes. Feel free to send request or let me know if you wanna be tagged in these ♡

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @radiantcade @meteora-fc @kyra3155 @real-fans @not-john-watsons-blog @im-in-love-with-queen

.

.

.

Y/N and Aldo never showed some kind of an affection towards each other. They respected, trusted, appreciated the other one but these traits were common among the Basterds.

It seemed so innocent at first, almost like a teasing and none of the Jewish American soldiers expected to become it something more.

•••

They met at the very beginning of the Basterd's missions. Y/N was a french spy, a very famous one so she obviously got their attention since they'd gotten to France.

The Basterds recruited her in a bar and she immediately became one of them. Y/N fit within the group perfectly, like she was always destined to be a Basterd.

•••

After the third successful mission, they decided to stay the night in a local resistance hotel to relax and prepare for another action. Everyone went to their beds as soon as they could but Donny persuaded Y/N and Aldo to gamble a little before the sleep. 

"C'mon, just one game!" Donny pleaded. It didn't take much and the trio was sitting around a table playing their fifth game.

"I thought you're better at poker, Lieutenant." Y/N laughed as she grabbed another money she won.

"Shut up, Sergeant. I just am a bit lenient with ya, that's all." Aldo fought back, trying to cover the fact he's worse with cards than Hugo trying to actually smile for once. 

"Show me what you got, Lieutenant. I wanna see how you lose control." she winked at him and dealt the cards.

•••

Something changed in Aldo this evening. At first, Y/N was just another soldier sticking up for her country trying to end the war. But now he saw her in a totally different light.

He noticed what colour her eyes have, how she always ties her hair in a braid. 

He noticed how her cheeks blushed when he praises her after a good work.

He noticed how she scrunches her nose when she disagrees with someone. 

All those little things were filling his head. Aldo was so full of it. It was during the other mission when he completely understood his feelings.

•••

One moment and his whole world flipped. 

Aldo was so angry with himself that he missed such an important thing.

Like a gun. 

The German soldier was just kneeling in front of Aldo when he reached in his pocket. It all happened so quickly then.

The German pulled out a gun and with one last defiance he pulled the trigger. But it wasn't Aldo who got hit. 

It was the woman behind him.

Aldo was like deprived of his senses. He threw away the piece of bread he was eating and jumped at the German. If Wicki didn't pulled him back, Aldo would probably beat the guy to death.

And that was Donny's speciality.

"Don't you fuckin' touch her! Or look at her!" Aldo shouted hitting his face with his fist one more time.

Y/N was so taken away by his behaviour, not really sure where the anger got from.

"What the hell, Lieutenant?" she frowned, "it's just a goddamn scratch on my arm. The bullet didn't even hit me properly." 

Aldo froze whereas Donny and Hugo looked at each other with knowing smiles. They finally realised what was going on.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he tried to brush it off, gesturing to the Basterds to continue with the scalping. "It's fuckin' bleedin' a lot!"

"It's fine. Nothing too serious, Lieutenant." Y/N replied.

Aldo just shook his head as he took off his scarf and tied it around the wound. "No one would hurt ya again, or I'd kill 'em."

•••

The Basterds got ordered to rest a bit because there was a big mission on its way. They didn't know what it was but they all welcomed a full night sleep.

But Y/N didn't feel like going to bed. Instead, she took her cigarettes and sat at the balcony of the apartment they got settled in.

It was a chilly night but she didn't mind. She actually liked cold more than heat.

"Aldo seems a bit off lately." Donny's voice broke the silence as he positioned himself next to her.

"What you mean?" she asked offering him a cigarette which he gladly accepted. 

"Remember how he beated up the German officer two weeks ago? I've never seen him like that."

"Oh Donny. He's just a badass with a good heart. I assure you, Aldo's just fine."

Donny shrugged but didn't say anything. This wasn't his secret to tell even though the change in Aldo's behaviour towards her was so damn obvious. 

Donowitz glanced at Y/N smiling a bit. He understood why Aldo fell for the female Basterd. 

•••

Bridget von Hammersmark was laying in front of them with a bullet in her leg while Hugo, Archie and Wicki were dead.

Y/N was standing in the corner of the room, lost in her thoughts, mourning for her lost friends. She knew something like that had to happen but she also believed in Basterds and part of her thought that they'll all come back home one day.

Y/N wasn't able to look at the actress anymore. She quickly left the room not looking at anyone while she lighted her cigarette. It'd been becoming too much to handle for her.

"Are you alright?" Aldo frowned as he walked towards her. "You still in?"

She laughed sarcastically at his question sheaking her head. "Yeah, of course, business. I'm in, Lieutenant."

"I didn't mean in like that and ya know it."

"Yeah, sorry. It's just-"

"I know, Sergeant. This whole event got me thinkin'. I gotta tell you something."

Y/N threw away her cigarette as she looked directly at him. She wasn't sure if it was the light or the sentiment, but Aldo's eyes never seemed so beautiful to her like they did in that moment. 

"The truth is," Raine began as he stepped closer, "you make me feel... you make me feel, Sergeant."

•••

When Y/N stepped into the room in a black plain tight dress, the conversation between the Basterds immediately stopped. They'd never seen her in anything but in uniform or the civilian clothes. Donny dropped the glass of whiskey he was drinking, Hugo's knife fell on the ground with a loud crash, Omar and Wicki stayed there with their mouths wide opened, Archie Hicox smirked and Aldo, Aldo was taken away and wasn't able to get out a word.

"Please, gentlemen! This is how you welcome a beautiful woman? She looks magnificent!" Bridget von Hammersmark exclaimed gesturing towards Y/N.

"It's so uncomfortable," Y/N frowned and tried to adjust the dress a little, "and so impractical." 

"I think it's perfect." Aldo breathed out and Bridget smiled in satisfaction.

Y/N truly looked like a completely new person. And Aldo's feelings mixed once again. She was so special to him, like water is special to desert. His life was dry without an excitment. She was the water that refreshed him after a long time of loneliness.

•••

Bridget, Aldo, Y/N, Donny and Omar stepped into the small local cinema, already so full of Nazi officers.

"It makes me sick." Y/N snorted as she looked around on the German uniforms. "I have two knives and a gun and I'm not afraid to use them right now."

Aldo laughed next to her and gallantly put his hand on her hip pulling her closely to him.

"Just relax, darlin'. We'll do that later." Aldo winked at her, not letting her go for a moment.

Bridget suddenly seemed like she'd seen a ghost. An older man approached their little group and Y/N immediately understood with whom they have the honor.

Bridget and Hans Landa shared a short conversation before they turned to them. Hammersmark formally introduced the Basterds and Y/N flinched a little under the German's look. Aldo noticed right away her change of attitude and stroked her hip gently.

"Sei assolutamente incredibile, signorina! Ho notato che molti ufficiali hanno voltato la testa dopo di te." (You look absolutely stunning, miss! I noticed that many officers turned their head after you.) Hans Landa grinned and Y/N thought it was the most disgusting thing ever.

"Grazie mille signore. Sono sicuro che stai esagerando." (Thank you very much, sir. I'm sure you're exaggerating.) Y/N faked a smile and clenched her hand in fist to remain calm.

All of the Basterds with Bridget jerked their heads towards her. Her fluent Italian took them away as well as Landa.

"Quanto amo la lingua italiana! E dalla bocca di una donna così bella, è una musica per le mie orecchie." (How I love the Italian language! And from the mouth of such a beautiful lady, it's a music for my ears.)

"Mi stai adulando, signor Landa. Non hai un brutto aspetto." (You're flattering me, Mr Landa. You don't look so bad yourself.) Y/N felt like vomitting any next second. 

Aldo had enough of Landa's fake attitude, especially how Y/N looked so stressed and angry. He decided he has to step in or she won't hold herself back. Aldo recalled the one sentence he learnt yesterday, just in case he'd need to interrupt a moment in a formal way. This was the time.

"Baciami, adesso." (Kiss me, right now.) he stated and pulled Y/N even closer than before. She didn't manage to prostest or ask a quick question and their lips touched. She returned the kiss immediately and ran her fingers through his hair.

Until someone coughed.

They pulled apart from each other, Aldo smiling widely like a winner and Y/N blushing harder than ever.

"Ci scusi signore. Il mio ragazzo qui è un tipo appassionato. Devi perdonarlo." (Excuse us, sir. My boyfriend here is the passionate kind. You must forgive him.) Y/N stuttered and but looked directly at Landa.

•••

Operation Kino was over and it was now only her, Aldo and Utivich. They lost everybody along the way. They stood together side by side through everything. They'd become something stronger than family, friends, lovers. They faced death together and nothing could break the bond they'd created over the years. It was time to go home.

Y/N stood on the ship that was taking the Basterds, or what was left of them, home. The wind was dancing on her hair whispering secrets in her ears.

"I never thought I'd make it back home." Aldo Raine appeared next to her with a cigarette between his lips.

"None of us thought so, Lieutenant." she nodded, "but the difference is, we were wrong. Not them."

"Smart as always." Aldo grinned as he turned to her. "You should stop calling me Lieutenant. The war's over."

Y/N giggled at his statement and he could swear he'd never heard something so melodic, something so right. 

"It kinda sticked with you, Lieutenant."

Aldo didn't answer, instead he threw away the cigarette and took some deep breaths. He needed whiskey, or anything else that would give him at least a bit of courage.

Aldo Raine fought in war, he saw his friends die, he was broken by everything he saw and still, asking Y/N a simple question seemed harder than surviving the bloodshed.

"Spill it out, Lieutenant." she laughed as she glanced at him. 

"I hate how ya always do that. But here it goes," Aldo replied, "I've never been good at this so I'll just keep it short."

He stopped for a moment and stared at the woman in front of him. As he stepped closer, his heart was already racing like it'd never before.

"Why don't ya come to the States with me? We can buy some little house in the Smoky Mountains and live there for the rest of our fuckin' lives." Aldo confessed in his Raine kind of way, looking at her with so much hope in his eyes. 

"Is this some kind of your proposal?" Y/N chuckled as she intertwined her fingers with his.

"Maybe."

"I thought you'd never ask! Of course I'll come with you! You're everything I have, Aldo." 

[minervacasterly]

The caricature of Margaret Beaufort:

From pop culture POV and the POV of those influenced by it, this powerful matriarch is all of the following: Religious nut case! Bitch. She killed the princes in the tower! Old and ugly! Screw her! She and her son were the worst thing that happened to England!

And yet her son became the founder of a dynasty that reigned for more than a century and continues to fascinate us. Now on to the real Meg Beaufort. In the White Queen she is all this and that but the real Meg was no religious nut case and she certainly didn't plan the murder of the Princes and you can debate me countless times on this but there is no concrete evidence that she did! Richard had more than enough motive and opportunity to kill the Princes and oh wait before I get the Ricardians on my case, I don't hate Richard. I actually find him interesting, I wouldn't find him interesting if he was perfect. Richard had learned from his brother's mistakes but made mistakes of his own. If he produced the boys then that would've propelled them to sainthood and the last thing he wanted was a cult was already building around Henry VI. What happened with this last monarch is fascinating and you might be wondering -hey! Isn't that the guy they smothered with a pillow in the White Queen? Yeah, that's the one. Except there are so many theories abounding to his death. The first one comes from Bettini who wrote three weeks after the Lancastrian king's death that it was Edward NOT Richard who gave the order. At the time the blame was solely pinned on Edward, so let's not confuse contemporary sources with secondary. Rous and Vergil writing in the Tudor period pinned the murder on Richard and even early Ricardians say that he did it, but with one major difference -*under* Edward's orders. If this is so, one thing we can all agree, if Richard gave the order or personally took care of Henry, it was all done under his brother's command. But this backfired, soon people were attributing all sorts of miracles to this guy, he became more famous in death than he had ever been in life. Edward tried hard to suppress this cult but he couldn't and Richard did the next best thing. If you can't beat them, join 'em! He cashed in on the cult and officiated a reburial of the dead monarch and started all new kinds of celebrations for him but people still talked as they always do. Now if he had produced the dead children as he and his brother had done with the Lancastrian king, then it would've been chaos, complete and utter chaos!

Margaret Beaufort's sole aim up until the princes disappearance in the summer of 1483 was to gain back her son's lands and bring him back safely. She was forced to give him up before after the Lancaster line had been wiped out from the face of the earth by Yorkist forces, ending to some historians' view, the wars of the roses in 1471. Margaret would not see him until the aftermath of Bosworth in 1485. She had little to worry about the first years of his exile, he was with his uncle Jasper, his father's brother. They intended to sail to the French court, a court his uncle knew very well but landed in Brittany instead because of the bad weather. Brittany was not on good terms with the French and they had their fair share of enmity with the English so it served the Duke well to have two valuable English hostages, one who had a considerable (if debatable) claim to the English throne via his mother. Edward attempted to coax the old Duke into give up his charge and while the Duke never believed Edward's intentions, some of his ministers did and those who didn't just wanted to cash in on the juicy rewards. Henry was an intelligent youth who was far from the serious and mama's boy he's depicted in today's fiction. He loved to laugh, play, joke and gamble. But he was aware how valuable he was and at one point feigned sickness and took sanctuary in a church when he suspected his future voyage to England was a hoax -which it was -and that small trickery on his part saved him.

By 1480, Margaret had more than enough to worry, but she wasn't giving up on her son's legacy. With Edward's promise to marry him to his eldest daughter, Margaret continued to rely on the faith that gave comfort to so many women in this period, and Edward's promise, albeit a fake one, was something she never let go of. The accession of Richard and Anne changed all that. Always an opportunist at heart, she tried to curry favor with the new regime. Whether she agreed with it or not -we will never know but her husband was an official in Richard's government and she had more than enough reason to believe that Richard would grant her her request to bring her son back. After all he was more busy convincing everyone his brother had never been legally married to Elizabeth and securing his position. But surprise, surprise for Margaret and everyone involved. Her life was never easy, it was one obstacle after another and this was no different. The boys' disappearance changed everything and Buckingham's rebellion gave her a chance she had never considered before. Her moment to shine had come. She was no longer looking to bring her son back as a mere earl but as a king so she started plotting with the queen dowager through her Welsh doctor. After a lot of plotting and intrigue and tragedy at Richard's court, her son's shining moment came and thanks to the defection of his stepfather from Richard's camp to his side, he won. There is a famous myth that his stepfather, Thomas Stanley found the crown in a thorn bush but this is likely Tudor propaganda. Richard's treatment afterwards was one that's always given by the victor to the loser, stripped of all his clothes and shamefully paraded, he was then written as the worst monarch that ever lived.

And while I do agree there needs to be a better assessment of Richard, doing the same to Margaret and Richard is just as dumb. She was born in 1443 and a year after, John Beaufort, her father and Duke of Somerset died. Many said at the time that it was because of suicide because of his terrible leadership in France. Truth or not, Margaret was now a wealthy heiress and her wardship was widely sought after. William de la Pole, the crown's favorite tried to marry her to his son, but after he was murdered, at only nine years old Margaret was brought to court to swear that she never intended to marry his son. Later she rewrote history saying that it was because of a godly vision that told her that it was her destiny to marry Edmund Tudor and establish a great house, that she denied it. Margaret married at only 12 and Edmund Tudor, anxious to get his hands on her wealth, didn't bother to wait. He impregnated her less than a year after and she gave birth in January 1457 when she was months away from being 14, to her only offspring. The birth damaged her, she never had any children with her other spouses. She had a happy marriage with her next spouse, Henry Stafford and they celebrated their anniversary in big style every year and even housed Edward IV in their hunting lodged in one occasion. This doesn't sound like the power hungry, vindictive Margaret of TV. And that's because she wasn't! She was very learned and founded and refounded many colleges, chief among them: Christ's College which had previously been God's House and St. John's in Cambridge. Aware that only the privileged few could attend these institutions she voiced her concerns in 1479, and her attempts bore fruit when Wimborne College was established posthumously in 1509, which was later renamed Queen Elizabeth's school. She also established the Lady Margaret Beaufort Professorship of Divinity at Cambridge in 1502 and the first women's college in Oxford was named after her.

In spite of her joy of seeing her son crowned, she could not help herself. Fisher and many contemporaries described how she cried -a clear sign of a woman that doesn't care about power- and when asked why, she responded because she had lived through so many kings and princes who had been murdered and killed in battle. Who knew if her son was next or if his reign would last. She cried the same tears of grief on her grandson's joint coronation with Katherine, fearing that his reign would face the same troubles.

Margaret passed away days after in 1509, after a long life of hardship and triumph.

[exoczn]

VERTIGO || CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER ONE • CHAPTER TWO • CHAPTER THREE • CHAPTER FOUR

m.list

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader x Yuta

Genre: Angst, Fluff

warnings: none for this chapter

Plot: what happens when you feel like a failure yet again like always and you’re not enough in a new city and accidentally meet a stranger who is broken himself but changes your life along with his own by a short encounter near the Vancouver river

————————————————

   You woke around afternoon because you slept at 3:30 am and spent the last night listening to soft alternative music, drinking cheap wine and looking at the sky; it wasn’t starry in particular but you always liked nights like this.

   You get up to make coffee for yourself and your phone buzzes. 

Yuta: Heyyy 

Yuta: The party thing is still on, right??

 You suddenly realise that it's Saturday and start panicking. You go to your closet and start finding something to wear but you’re too confused and you feel nothing looks that good according to you. So you call Yuta immediately.

he picks up after 3 rings 

 "hello?? y/n, what's up? don’t say you can’t make it and break my heart.” he chuckles.

 “Hey no! I won't do something like that yEt but well anyway that's not why I called you. I called you because I’m confused as to what should i wear and i wanted to ask you, uhhh 

what would you be wearing?”

 “well it's just a bunch of rich kids renting an airbnb and throwing a party, nothing fancy?  He sighs and continues  “I’m literally so excited to see you again idk why but can’t wait”

You try for it to not affect you that much and stop yourself from smiling that much and continue “Yes me too”

  “anyway y/n I’ll pick you up around 10:30?”

“sure”

——————————————————————

 You started getting ready around 9 after having some leftovers from last night. You were wondering about how things in your life were going pretty smoothly and how Yuta was everything you wanted in a guy. It really had been a week since met him and he texted you the night you met him in the coffee shop. 

  You both talked about music, anime, how you felt about the city, he talked about japan and his old neighborhood where he grew up and realized you both were going to the same university and Mark too. 

   You looked yourself in the mirror. You were wearing your 560 levi’s and a black cropped tank with your chelsea boots. You wore silver hoops and a small lock necklace. You were about to finish your look with a clear lipgloss when you heard your doorbell ring and figured who it might be. 

 You finished applying your gloss quickly and rushed to open the door and saw him standing there with a smug smile on his face and his pretty eyes. His eyes were almost too pretty. He was wearing a black shirt with a pair of light washed jeans as well.

 “Oh my goodness you’re looking almost as pretty as me” he said, widening his eyes with an open mouth smile showing his perfect teeth.

Why is he so pretty? What's happening to you y/n?

 You rolled your eyes while laughing and said “ha ha ha right” sarcastically. 

  “And look! We’re matching! No wait… you copied me”

 “We’re matching, yes. I copied you, it's not even possibly possible einstein.” 

 “But anyway y/n, you look- “

  “Amaaazing, i know.” you both laughed.

  “Now, shall we?” He held out his hand and you took it.

-----

  You enter the place and see a tall guy with brown hair walking up to the two of you with a huge smile and hugs Yuta.

  “y/n this is Johnny, johnny this is y/n.”

    “Dude wow! She pretty pretty- “

  “TOLD YA” Yuta says while shrugging 

  “Hi Johnny and thanks” you shake his hand and smile.

 “Hey John, where's Mark?” 

 “You know he hates parties, he's probably in the balcony or somewhere drinking his beer.”

 You weren't much fond of parties yourself but you came anyway as you already had no social life here and didn't know anyone else other than Sehun who lived in front of you and Kaitlyn your college friend.  

  You played a round of beer pong with Yuta, Johnny, Taeyong (his other ‘bro’) and some other people. At this point you were somewhat tipsy and wanted to have some water. So you went to the kitchen to get some water for yourself and for some reason the kitchen was somewhat dark but illuminated by the light coming from outside so you didn't bother to switch on the lights. 

You walk inside, you hear somebody “Y/n?” You jump

  “MARK???!!” 

 “Yes its me, calm down.”

 “MY HEART WAS GONNA COME OUT OF MY CHEST, YOU DUMBASS!” you almost screamed

 “I'm sorry I must've startled you” he chuckles.

 “No shit sherlock”  you roll your eyes and he starts laughing, it's almost like he's squeaking. It's cute. 

 After he stops, there's awkward silence between the two of you. You gulp down the water in your glass.

  “So how are things going between you and Yuta?” he finally asks. 

  “Good” you nod your head “great, I mean. He’s a nice guy and he's funny but very cocky. I think that's why I like him that much.”

 He chuckles again “I know he can get very cocky but it is indeed funny. He might look like an asshole to people or intimidation but he's a good guy.”

  “What’s up with your ex thing btw? Do you still miss her or-” you try to make conversation and also you were genuinely curious about how he is coping up with it because the first time you saw him, he looked pathetic.

  “Oh no no i don't anymore, i don't care about her anymore and i've realized that the whole dating shit is not for me i guess. Plus i like being alone now, it's comforting and i don't have to worry about ‘how to tell her that i hate being around her friends’ thing.” 

 “Right” 

 “Also did i tell you that you look good with that haircut.”

 “Thanks” you smile. ��My brother thinks i look like a 7th grader.”

 “No wayyyy. It suits you” he gives a genuine smile”

 You thank him and then you remember “Oh Yuta, Johnny and your other friends were looking for you!”

  You leave the kitchen with Mark and you see Yuta, Taeyong and Johnny near the staircase.

You walk to them and Yuta says “Oh markkk where were you? I’ve been looking for you since I walked in.” 

  “I was uh-”

  “y/n where’d you find him and where were you ???” yuta asks you this time.

  “I went to get water in the kitchen and i saw him there.”

   Yuta got asked, “Oh.. are you fine??!!” 

  You noticed him completely ignoring the other three’s existence which made you feel special but guilty for some reason. 

You shook your thoughts away and replied

  “Uhm yes i don't know, i'm good, just a little exhausted.”

  “Should i take you home?”  

  “No, it's fine, I can take the train and go back on my own.” 

  “It's not safe at this hour, I'll drop you.”

   With that you both take off after saying goodbyes to johnny, mark and taeyong. 

 ---------------------

MARKS POV/

 After y/n and Yuta left,, Taeyong went to get smirnoff and 

 Johnny asked,”Hey Mark! Uhm why do you like y/n by any chance too?” 

  He caught me off guard by asking that and there were sirens ringing in my head and i didn’t know how to respond to it but i knew that lying wouldn't be a sensible option because he would easily catch me in seconds but i still tried to act as if i didn't know what he was talking about and said

 “W-what makes you think that?” I fake laughed.

 “Listen bro idk how others didn't notice but you know you were being quite obvious. Like when he rushed next to her to ask if she's okay, your face screamed that you were sooo jealous, i don't know what you plan on doing next but i really suggest you talk to her about it bro.”

 “man, i thought of it kinda and tried asking her about what's up with the whole situation and honestly, she seemed to really like him and well i don't wanna get into whatever they have for each other by confessing it to her and like i don't even know her so it's just plain weird for me to think of anything.” I tried to justify what I was doing to him and it felt more like trying to justify myself. 

  I went ahead and told johnny about how we actually met and how back then i was a coward and not smart enough to say anything but i realized i didn't really get a chance to say something to her and started wondering about what johnny said. 

Was it that obvious? What am i trying to do? Am I a bad friend? 

 ------------------------------------

  You reached your building around 1ish and Yuta tried to ask you out on another date but this time he said it'd be a proper just you-and-him-alone-date and you thought it'd be cool because so far things were going too well and you liked him too.  

 It was weird for you to process how vocal he was about his feelings for you and you realized that's probably the most attractive thing about him, he wasn't playing games with your feelings like you're used to otherwise and it was nice for a change. 

    You would have your mind wondering about mark once a while but you’d force yourself to tap back into reality.