#maybe I can shove one in my nose piercing who knows

[corrodedparadox]

Also hi take these

[starkeyisthelastname]

can you plzzzz write more pornstar!rafe i love him !!

pornstar!rafe is a different breed of dirty 😿

Pornstar!Rafe who had no idea what he was doing at the door of your apartment a few weeks after the scene you had shot together. He had fucked a lot of women, on and off camera. Never did he once go back for seconds, he just wasn’t that type of man. Maybe it was perverted of him to pay your agent to give him your address, but nonetheless it worked for him as he knew it would. He kept thinking about you, and he didn’t know why. Sure he fucked a lot of pretty girls, but something about you made him want more.

You looked up in surprise when you heard a late-night knock on the door, wondering who could be visiting at such an hour. Due to your line of work, you didn't have many friends or family, so unexpected visitors were a rarity. Slowly getting up, you made your way to the door and looked out the peephole. “Rafe?” You whispered to yourself, feeling your stomach drop. How did he know where you lived? What was he doing here? It made you nervous but in such a curious way.

As you opened your door, you immediately noticed his towering figure. His piercing blue eyes met yours, drawing you in. It had slipped your mind just how imposing his height was, even when dressed casually. A baseball cap concealed his messy blonde mullet, while a simple t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans accentuated his broad physique. You saw the familiar smirk come to his face, making your pussy flutter and forget any concerns you had on why he was there in the first place.

“Keep your fuckin legs up.” Rafe spat, a head full of dirty blonde hair in between your spread thighs as he ate your pussy like a starved dirty man.

It had been all of 15 minutes and this man already had you on the brink of an orgasm by just his tongue. The way his head moved back and forth, smearing your sweet and sticky juices across his thick mustache, had you gasping while you tried to hold your legs back. Your body was becoming limp though, his pert nose rubbing against your swollen clit as his tongue rapidly licked through your soaked folds.

One hand that was hooked on the underside of your thigh, fell as your stomach tightened and eyes started rolling back. You felt two thick digits slide into your creamy hole, pushing themselves to hit your G-spot. “O-oh fuck…Rafe.” You mumbled, eyebrows squeezing together as your eyes came back to watch him.

“Greedy fuckin hole likes gettin' finger fucked, huh?” His words were dirty, only making you clench around them as he shot you that cocky smirk.

You nodded, mouth falling open as he drilled them in and out of your leaking cunt with brutal force. You wondered if he would be just as nasty off camera, but never thought you'd see him again unless you filmed another scene together. (At least you were hoping you two would.) He was proving to you that his porn acting was who he was as a person, and he was just as filthy as he was on camera.

That smirk faded as you refused to answer him, his blue eyes darkening into something a little more sinister. Abruptly pulling his fingers out, he shoved them inside your open mouth, pushing them deep until you gagged. His other hand came to your poor pussy, slapping it roughly as you squealed around his digits at the hard smack. It wasn't until he shoved three fingers in without warning that you realized he was not playing.

“Not a big fan of repeating myself. Yeah, slut? So I suggest you answer my fuckin question.” His voice low as he stood up to lean over you. He removed his fingers from your mouth, wrapping a hand around your throat to squeeze.

His left hand moved inside you at a rapid pace, repeatedly bruising your sweet spot as he choked a reply out of you. This man was on a whole other type of level, and you knew you couldn’t hold back any longer. “Please… k-keep fingering me. D-don’t stop. Gonna cum so hard.” Your voice strained as he applied pressure against your neck.

You could feel your eyes rolling back again, head spinning and cunt pulsing as one more push of his fingers did your climax hit. In the porn industry, you weren’t known for being a squirter. There you were though, letting a fountain of clear liquid spray both of your bodies as you completely let go.

You barely had time to recover, before you were flipped over with ease, thick cock cramming itself in your sopping cunt as he yanked your hair back. “You better fuckin start listening to me. I don’t ever fuck a girl twice, even on camera. Feel lucky I wanna make you my own personal whore.” He rasped in your ear, the butterflies hitting your tummy at the thought of having this deranged man in your guts over and over again.

[satoruxx]

PARACOSM OF THE GODS.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words

SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing

RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33

i. the unknown

satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.  

his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice. 

you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone. 

"who's the rookie?" 

satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes. 

it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei. 

he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care. 

"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.

satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons." 

suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit." 

the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around. 

suguru is the first to interrupt the peace. 

"maybe she's strong?" 

"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities." 

ii. routine 

"can i ask you guys a question?" 

a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching. 

"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile. 

"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue. 

"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?" 

satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another. 

"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.

"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could. 

you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him. 

the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.  

"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness." 

after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.

"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him. 

"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it. 

"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."

the conversation ends there. 

shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.

shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you. 

a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment. 

but you can't. 

iii. halcyon

"hey suguru?"

"hm?"

"how come you always do your hair the same way?"

suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.

"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.

"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."

"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.

"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"

he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."

you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"

he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.

"how should i style it then, hotshot?"

his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."

he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.

"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"

suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"

you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."

he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.

"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.

"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.

"i like yours."

you blink. "mine?"

"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."

something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.

"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."

"do mine like that," he says quickly.

once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"

"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.

"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.

"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."

"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.

iv. fragility

"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—" 

"—so that makes you her family then." 

suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles. 

"…yes." 

you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat. 

"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him. 

"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims. 

"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?" 

satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe." 

you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?" 

he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably. 

"we'll do things the way she wants us to." 

it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him. 

that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?

your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge. 

v. longing

riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen. 

satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.

you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko. 

"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.  

"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you. 

"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?" 

suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh. 

"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot." 

you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest. 

your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him. 

the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face. 

and in that moment, nothing can be ruined. 

"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands. 

"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."

his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?" 

he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always." 

"me too." 

he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle. 

"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream. 

you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru." 

he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!" 

"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty." 

he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours." 

"mine?" you chuckle.

"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room." 

"oh? and why's that?" 

suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home." 

you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest. 

"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room." 

"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.

"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?" 

"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!" 

suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist. 

"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears. 

vi. ice bath

shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.

the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you. 

"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!" 

you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.

you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.

suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.

now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape. 

shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait: 

where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you? 

you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell. 

"shoko?" 

it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you. 

"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before. 

vii. acid rain

the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices. 

"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"

you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively. 

"let's get out of here, guys."

your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing. 

satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut. 

you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?

"do you want to…kill them all?" 

the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows. 

"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.

you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man. 

you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.

satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him. 

"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry. 

you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips. 

"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?" 

"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers." 

satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both. 

you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind. 

"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that." 

viii. fever dreams

satoru lies next to you. 

a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time. 

tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway. 

it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while. 

his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.

you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you. 

"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies. 

"i know." 

ix. doubt

satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.

not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks. 

"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!" 

there's an odd note of glee in his voice. 

"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around." 

he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!" 

your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak. 

"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?" 

there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"

a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?" 

"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"

"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all." 

x. shadow

satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.

you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"

"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.

"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."

your head is spinning.

"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"

"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.

"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."

you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"

satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.

"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."

you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.

"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"

shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.

god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.

"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.

"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.

"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"

a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."

you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.

"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"

you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.

his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"

his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."

xi. hellfire

you hear suguru before you see him.

his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.

you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.

or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.

it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.

you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.

now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.

suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.

you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.

"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"

your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.

you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.

"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.

he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"

"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"

"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."

you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.

"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.

"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.

"he went back to the dorms."

"okay."

you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.

the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.

haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.

not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.

you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"

his voice sounds far away. "hm?"

"are you okay?"

he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."

"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."

you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.

"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.

but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.

haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.

"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"

his voice tickles your ears.

"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?" 

hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.

suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.

you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.

"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"

"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."

something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.

you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense. 

you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.

but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.

xii. split

he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it. 

you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself. 

but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse. 

that's what everything came down to, right? curses. 

suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one. 

"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye. 

"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.

but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression. 

"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now. 

"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome." 

you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.

you don't know what to say to him now. 

"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?" 

"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap. 

"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"

the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders. 

"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true." 

your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"

suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?" 

anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please." 

suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again. 

"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true." 

"suguru—" 

"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it." 

you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully." 

a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…

"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—" 

"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…" 

he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?" 

you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot." 

you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."

he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"  

you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either. 

he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing. 

nobody has laughed in a while now. 

you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him. 

he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.

"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand." 

his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him. 

"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left." 

a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.

"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions." 

you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost. 

"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…" 

go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair. 

"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel. 

"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then." 

"better late than never, right?" 

the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death. 

his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls. 

"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head. 

"'m not crying." 

suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.

he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more. 

he doesn't. 

"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"

"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…" 

he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."

he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears. 

you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go. 

you accept your fate then and there. 

you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.

he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.

xiii. sanctify

satoru's at your door again. 

you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable. 

"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read: 

YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.

underneath it, satoru had scrawled: 

hotshot failing class now huh? :P

and shoko had added: 

both of you stfu you're failing too 

you had drawn a heart next to her name. 

"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"

satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away. 

"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off." 

he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.

a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades. 

"want help?" 

"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed. 

"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful. 

"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…" 

you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist. 

"…are all of suguru's things." 

there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there. 

"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that." 

satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face. 

"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble. 

"guess not." 

you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.

you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward. 

a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale. 

"let's get started then, hotshot." 

he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either. 

but it's enough for the two of you. 

"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. 

"so do you." 

"i am," you admit honestly. 

"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here." 

"i know," you answer. you always are.

nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more. 

you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.  

both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections. 

you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up. 

"hey." 

you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention. 

"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind." 

you frown. "what are you talking about?" 

"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that." 

you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?" 

satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?" 

you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant. 

"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips. 

"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."

xiv. idyll

it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.

tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.

"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.

"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."

"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."

"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."

"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"

you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."

satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"

"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.

"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.

"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."

satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."

he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.

so you don't say anything either.

the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.

when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"

you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."

"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."

"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."

"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."

you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."

satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"

you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"

your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.

he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"

your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"

satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."

he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."

he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.

"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.

his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."

"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.

then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."

everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.

you can't help but smile. "always."

you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.

the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.

he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.

xv. retribution

the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.

he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.

and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.

except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.

he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.

the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.

suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.

you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.

it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.

you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.

a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"

you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"

"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"

your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.

"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"

he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"

there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.

"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.

it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.

his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."

you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.

he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.

you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.

but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?

you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"

he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."

"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.

"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"

he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.

another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.

and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.

he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.

when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.

"you're late, satoru."

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: choi hansol

forced proximity

'coincidence? baby, they don't exist'

'so, what's your name?'

you blink, turning around to face the guy with who you got stuck in the elevator. he is now comfortably sitting on the floor with his knees tucked closer to his chest, leaning on the wall. the look on his face has zero traces of nerves or anxiety, he's opening bag of chips with a small smile on his face, looking at you like what is happening right now is absolutely normal. is this how an average day goes for him?

'you think this button is broken?' you ask instead, turning back. you push at 'call' button again but no sound comes out. 'we can't actually be stuck here with no connection to the outside world, right?'

'it happens quite often.' my god, so you were right, this is an average day for him. 'but no, this button works, we just need to wait a little. maybe these guys are out somewhere.'

'out where?' you ask, turning back to him. smell of chips starts filling up the cabin and you try to concentrate on it instead of thinking about being stuck here forever. 'should i just keep on pressing that button?'

your voice gets caught in your throat because the guy looks at you with... you don't know what. his gaze is piercing and it's like he's looking right at you, within you, in your soul. it's unsettling, especially when it comes from someone that handsome. in all three months since you moved into this apartment complex, you only met several families and few kids here and there, but never this guy. your brain unnecessarily reminds you that right now you're standing in front of a really handsome guy in old washed out t-shirt and pj pants, while he's at least dressed in jeans and sweatshirt.

'i'm hansol,' he says suddenly, breaking your thinking spiral. 'your neighbor from the forth floor.' he then pats a space next to him: 'come sit? i think it's more comfortable than standing.' you open your mouth to argue when he adds: 'i'll be the one pressing that button, no worries. just come sit down, yeah? you can meditate that way better, no?'

your nose scrunches in confusion. 'meditate?'

it's time for hansol to look sheepish. 'isn't this what people do when they start panicking? i mean- i am not implying that you are panicking right now, but you look pretty worried and i thought- shit, you are not panicking, right? there really is no need to, i promise we will be out of here in no time. i thought if you can sit and mediate then you can-' he shuts up, noticing his rambling and how your eyes grow only bigger with each word he says. after a second of hesitation, he stands up, grabs his chips and comes over to you, shoving them in your direction. 'here. chips.'

there are a lot of things that you can say or do, but your mind chooses to grab offered snack and silently move to where he was sitting. hansol seems to approve, as he smiles a little and leans with his back on the opposite wall so he can still look at you, while insistently pressing the 'call' button. 'so.'

'yes?' you raise your head, slowly munching on the chip. it's salty taste helps you stay here in the moment instead of disappearing in the anxiety.

'i feel like it's my fate, you know? to get stuck in the elevators. like god is trying to tell me something through it, you know? like i don't get stuck just because, i get stuck for something. and then i think-'

it takes you five seconds to realize that hansol is doing this on purpose. he is distracting you so you won't panick and this gesture is incredibly sweet for a random stranger. you're not sure how much time passes, because hansol's storytelling is fascinating (and a bit weird, but in a more 'not ordinary' way than bad). you don't notice how your spine is not rigid anymore, but hansol does. he notices how you slowly relax, hold his gaze more and eat chips more actively. he notices how corners of your eyes crinkle when you smile and how cute you look with confusion written all over your face. in truth, he has no idea what he is even saying, but he can't stop, can't let you remember even for a second that this stupid elevator is not working. his thumb is numb from how strongly he pushes on that 'call' button but he ignores it in favor of staring in your eyes, catching every emotion that sparkles in them. you are cute and you don't even realize it and that makes you even cuter.

'hello? is someone there?' when static voice cuts through, both of you jump a little. 'apologies for this horrible inconvinience, elevator will start working in few minutes. are you alright?'

hansol takes a look at your surprised face and half-finished bag of chips. 'yeah, we are all good.'

pang of regret slashes through him when you hastily stand up and cheer, when cabin finally starts descending. shit, he didn't even manage to learn your name! when elevator door opens, hansol reaches out for your hand and is pleasantly surprised when you take it with a smile, rushing out with the cutest little 'whoop!' he saw in his life.

'i think you are right,' you suddenly speak, making him look up. 'what you said about you getting stuck in the elevators meaning something? i think you're meant to help people like me.'

i think i was meant to meet you, he wants to say but doesn't. instead what comes out of his mouth is: 'you owe me.' at your confused expression, he points at his snack. 'chips.'

'oh. oh!' you exclaim, getting flustered. 'of course, i will-'

'-and your name.' he adds, making you freeze. he watches understanding dawn on you and smiles. 'and your favorite drink. so i would know what to buy for you.'

it's bold. not exactly his style, but his head-to-mouth filter is not working anymore. for a second he thinks he overdid it, but then you blush (so prettily), then smile (so, so prettily) and he knows he didn't mess up. when you step closer and introduce yourself, hansol knows he not only didn't mess up, but also won something out of this whole situation. (and he doesn't know it yet, but this big win? it's your heart. it really is).

a/n: guilty for having this trope as my most favorite one!! and who is better than hansol to write this for, am i right? - nini

my other works are here

[streetlamp-amber]

don’t leave

tommy shelby x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: domestic violence, typical peaky blinders violence, mentions of blood NOTES: takes place after season one. i might have gone a little ooc with tommy by the end #sorrynotsorry. i’m also thinking of making a part 2 to this. maybe. i don’t know.

“Oh, come on! I’m harmless!” You cried in defence as you watched two men tie your wrists then your ankles to the chair you were shoved in.

The last man of the trio observed you, taking a drag from his cigarette before throwing it on the floor. “You shot me. Twice.” He said, monotonously.

His piercing blue eyes were staring right at you and you felt your breath hitch in your throat at their intensity. You quickly recollected yourself, hoping he hadn’t noticed the little slip up in your facade.

He had.

“It was an honest mistake,” you shrugged your shoulders. “I thought you were someone else. Everyone knows not to shoot at Tommy Shelby.”

The two men who were occupied with tying you down stepped out of the room once they were done, leaving you alone with the most notorious gangster in Birmingham. You didn't really know where you were, probably one of the Peaky Blinders’ warehouses if you had to bet on it, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared. But, nothing could be worse than being with the man you were hiding from, so you found some solace in that thought.

“And who did you think I was?” Tommy asked you.

“No one important,” you brushed off, turning your head to the left to avoid his stare. Your eyes took in your surroundings, there wasn’t a lot of furniture here you noticed. Par for the chair you were tied to, there was what looked like a desk with another chair in the left corner. No machinery, no crates. The rest of the warehouse was completely empty.

“Eh!” Tommy called for your attention, snapping his fingers in your face. “You shot me twice, I think I deserve to know who you thought I was.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. “I didn’t shoot you twice, I shot at you twice. There’s a difference, I didn’t even hit you.”

“Small detail,” Tommy said. “Answer the fucking question.” His patience was beginning to wear thin, very thin.

You gulped. What was the point of avoiding the question? “My fiancé,” you finally answered.

“Your fiancé?” He repeated, trying to keep the confusion out of his tone. “Why would you shoot at your fiancé?”

“Because he’s a vile man that I don’t even want to marry,” you told him. If your wrists weren’t tied to the chair, you would’ve crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Can you untie me now? You know I’m not a threat to you.”

“Does he hit you? Is that why you’re running from him?” Tommy asked, ignoring your request.

“Amongst other things,” you mumbled, head hanging low so you could avoid his stare by keeping your eyes on your lap.

“’Amongst other things’,” he repeated your words to himself. “What does that mean? Is he a threat for the people of Small Heath?” He didn't want some low life fuck to come mess up the order of things on his territory.

“Probably, I don’t know,” you admitted, scrunching your eyes closed before looking back up at Tommy. His face was much closer now, maybe five inches separated the tips of your noses as he crouched down with his hands on his knees to be at a closer level to you. “All I know is my brother was in debt to the Billy Boys and promised my hand in marriage to one of those fucks to pay off part of his due.”

“The Billy Boys? Aren’t you a little down south of their territory?”

“Thought I’d be able to hide from them here,” you said. “Until last week, when I saw one of them trying to follow me at the market.”

“And that’s why, two days ago, you shot at me,” Tommy put the pieces of your story together.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Shelby, I was just so scared,” your voice started to wobble with emotion, your tough, indifferent persona out of the window. “Them Billy Boys, they’re the spawn of the Devil himself. They’re gonna kill me after they catch me.”

Through your blurry vision, you saw Tommy rise up and sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes.

“Alright, we can help you,” he finally said after a few minutes.

You felt the tears roll down your cheek, whether they were tears of exhaustion or fear or relief, you didn’t know. “Thank you Mr. Shelby.”

“But it won’t be for free,” he pointed his index finger at you. “You know how to use a gun?”

You hurriedly nodded your head. “Yes, yes I do. I usually don’t miss my shots, I was just afraid when I shot at you.”

“Well thank God you were, eh?” It could’ve been a joke attempt if his tone wasn’t so serious. “It’ll be useful to have a woman to work undercover when needed. And you will tell us everything there is to know about the Billy Boys and your fiancé so we can know who to look out for.”

“Yes Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy crouched down to cut loose the bonds around your wrists and ankles. “My brother John will accompany you to your lodgings so you can fetch your stuff, it’s not safe for you to stay there if they’ve been following you around. You’ll stay with me on Watery Lane, Ada’s room has been vacant ever since she got married.”

“Thank you Mr. Shelby,” you grabbed his hand as you thanked him and Tommy stopped moving, blue eyes staring at the grasp you had on him. You noticed his unease and just as you were about to release his hand, you felt him briefly squeeze your fingers before letting go.

“Come now, I’ve got business to attend to,” he beckoned for you to follow him and it took you a second to come out of your stupor due to everything that has happened in the last fifteen minutes before you rose up from the chair and walked a little behind him, out of the warehouse.

It had been a month since that day in the warehouse. You hadn’t seen your fiancé or any of the Billy Boys since then, but you also rarely went out of the Shelby house (other than to go to the Garrison). And on the rare occasions you did, two Blinders were following close behind you to make sure nothing happened to you. You still felt greatly in debt to Tommy for taking you under the Peaky Blinders’ protection, so instead of doing nothing while you waited for any “undercover mission”, you helped down at the betting den. You liked how lively it was there, you had never worked in a place like that before and the constant rush helped you take your mind off your worrying situation. You hadn’t seen any of the Billy Boys but that didn’t mean they had left town, you knew they wouldn’t back down until they have what they came for: you.

Working in the den for the last month has helped you make your place in the gang. You spent a lot of your days alongside John Shelby and Scudboat, and they would drag you with them to the Garrison where you played drinking games and got drunk like you used to do when you were younger. You now considered the Shelby family your friends. Arthur and John were like the brothers you wished you had, Polly was a nice woman to have around in this environment full of men, and Finn, sweet Finn, his childish innocence might be fading away as time went by, but playing with him was like a breath of fresh air in your stressful life.

Tommy… Well, Tommy was Tommy. He was hard to read, hard to open up, but he was slowly starting to warm up to you. It was a bit awkward at first, living with him, but one night a little after you moved in, the two of you shared a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen, barely speaking any words but both comfortable with the silence. It soon became a part of your daily routine. Some evenings were short, Tommy would only stay for one glass before retreating to bed, while other evenings, when he was in a better mood, you would go through an entire bottle and talk for what seemed like hours. You did most of the talking, but Tommy would share some of his thoughts, maybe even some anecdotes. You loved the stories of his childhood, about all the mischief he, Arthur and John would put the people of Small Heath through. And Tommy, he loved listening to you.

You liked the life you were building for yourself in Birmingham, amongst the Peaky Blinders. You never thought you would one day leave your small village up north, where life was dull and horrible with your brother. Your mother died while giving birth to you and both your father and your brother resented you for that. Your childhood was pretty rough, it wasn’t rare that you’d show up to school with bruises, it didn’t matter who they were from. Then your brother went up north to Glasgow, and for a while it was a blessing, to no longer have to worry about what he would do to you. But three months ago, he came back and with him was Brennan. They dragged you up to Glasgow for your wedding to this man you had never met before, you who had no say in this decision, and were forced to live with him. You couldn’t continue living like this, Brennan had you fearing for your life more than when you lived with your dad and brother. You didn’t stay for more than two weeks in Glasgow before you escaped in the middle of the night and ended up here, in Birmingham.

So to now find yourself, miles away from the nightmare that used to be your life, with the safety of the Peaky Blinders, it allowed you to imagine a future that wasn’t so miserable.

You were walking down to the Garrison once the betting den was closed, talking with Scudboat about the profits you had made that day while Billy Lovelock followed behind the two of you. You were deep in Peaky Blinders territory, less than five metres away from the entrance door to the pub, when a gun shot rang out.

You ducked in fear, hands covering your ears, and when you reopened your eyes that you didn’t know you had closed, you saw Billy laying on the ground out of the corner of your eye.

Oh no, you thought, this is it. They’ve found me.

“Come on! Come on!” Scudboat grabbed your elbow and dragged you towards the Garrison, but you hadn’t made more than three steps before your friend was shot in the leg, crumbling down. “Go inside!” He told you. “You’ll be safer!”

A part of you felt bad for leaving him and Billy out here, wounded and bleeding, but you knew the rest of the Peaky Blinders would be quick to come help them. You started running, which was a bit hard to do with the heels of your shoes sinking in the muddy, uneven ground with every step you took. Your fingers were inches from the door handle when you felt a strong grip on your shoulder pull you back and slam you hard against the wall, knocking your head against it in the process.

“Ya thought ya could run away from me? Eh, lass?” Your fiancé’s stinky breath wafted against your face. You scrunched up your nose in disgust.

“I don’t know, you didn’t find me for a while,” you sassily replied, pressing his buttons, and immediately regretted it. A sharp sting appeared on your left cheek before it registered that he had slapped you.

“Heard ye fucked Thomas Shelby for his protection,” he continued, resting his right forearm over your throat with a slight pressure. “I oughta cut his dick for that,” his left hand held your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin, “and you, well, you’re in for a lot more than a beating once we’re out of ‘ere.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you Brennan,” you angrily spat through gritted teeth. “You’re in Peaky Blinders territory, they won’t let you get out of here with me. And I didn’t fuck Tommy Shelby, I didn’t need to fuck no one for protection.”

“What did I tell you about lying?” He screamed in your face, making you flinch.

With your eyes closed, you didn’t see Brennan reeling back his fist to punch you in the face but fortunately, the contact never came.

“HEY!” Scudboat yelled from where he was on the ground, gripping his wound to contain the bleeding. “Get your hands off of her you fuck!”

Brennan turned around to look at who was shouting orders at him. “And who the fuck are ya?!” He let go of you and stalked towards Scudboat, pulling his gun out of his coat.

You had an out. Your fiancé’s attention wasn’t on you. You could escape, find safety in the Garrison, but you knew how Brennan was. You couldn’t leave Scudboat alone, the man had become your friend over the last month and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself knowing he had died because of you.

So you grabbed a shovel laying on the ground a few metres away and right as Brennan pointed his gun at Scudboat, you whacked him behind the head with your weapon, knocking him out right away. “Motherfucker,” you grumbled to the unconscious body and threw the shovel on the ground before kneeling next to Scudboat. “Are you alright?” You asked your friend, your hands hovering over his thigh where his blood kept oozing from the bullet hole.

“I’m fine Y/N, get inside,” Scudboat waved you off.

“What about Billy?” You glanced up to where the strong built man still laid on the ground, also unconscious.

“Don't worry about him, just get inside!” Scudboat shoved you away.

You did as you were told and sprinted to the Garrison. You pushed the door open only to be met with an empty pub. Your wide eyes roamed around the room. This isn't normal, you thought to yourself. There wasn't even a bartender behind the bar! Usually, around this time of the day, almost every seat should've been occupied, beers should’ve been poured, laughter should’ve been heard. But nothing.

You walked towards the snug, where Tommy and his brothers could usually be found, but instead Jimmy McCavern, Callum Maxwell, Kenneth Morrow and Angus Burns were occupying the room, all four of them staring at you with that look in their eyes that made you want to run away as far from them as possible.

“Y/N, so nice of ye to join us,” Jimmy said, his voice sending chills down your back. He looked comfortable in his chair, with his arms crossed over his chest, almost relaxed, but you didn’t let your guard down.

“Where–”

“Where are the Peaky Blinders, ye ask?” He interrupted you. “They’re a wee bit busy right now, I’m afraid it’s only us.”

“Take a seat, darling, go on,” Angus told you, motioning to the empty chair in front of you.

You did as he said, your hands wringing together in your lap. You knew not to become all witty and sarcastic with these men, obeying them was always the best thing to do.

“So, hope ye had yer fun down here with Thomas Shelby,” Jimmy continued, uncrossing his arms to instead rest them in front of him on the table as he leaned closer to you, “because yer days of fun are over. You're coming back to Glasgow with us, married to Brennan like yer brother arranged.”

It was at this moment that you realised you couldn't escape the Billy Boys. You had been so foolish to think you could leave them in the past, that you started imagining a future without Brennan. The Peaky Blinders could not protect you, you had been foolish to think otherwise.

But still, you weren’t going to lose without putting up a fight.

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m not marrying Brennan.”

“Ye don’t have a choice lass, yer brother promised yer hand,” Callum said.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” You asked angrily, tears pooling in your eyes. “This is not my debt, it’s his! You can kill him for all I care, he never cared about me so why should I care about him!?”

“A deal was made, ye can’t back out of a deal with the Billy Boys,” Kenneth said, his eyes telling you to stop arguing.

“No!” You slammed your hands on the table and stood up. “I’m not going. I’m not marrying Brennan. I refuse. This isn’t my deal!”

“Don't make this worse for ye, lass,” Angus warned you, also standing up.

“Fuck you!” You spat and took off in a run, escaping through the back door of the Garrison.

You knew the four men were on your tail, you could hear their heavy footsteps behind you. You tried to remember the directions Tommy had given you to Jeremiah Jesus’ church as you sprinted down the dirty streets and alleys. He had told you to hide there if you ever needed to, and since Jeremiah didn’t partake in the Peaky Blinders’ activities, the chances he would be there were quite high and, honestly, your last hope to survive.

Gunshots started ringing against the brick walls, luckily for you all the bullets flew past you since none of the four men were able to perfectly aim while running. You turned left at a corner and Jeremiah’s church was finally in your vision field, less than a few blocks down. Jimmy and the others still had yet to turn the corner of the street, so you took this advantage to go down a small alley, knowing it would lead to the back door of the church.

You stumbled in the place of worship, out of breath, and Jeremiah came out from the back office to see what the commotion you had created was about.

“Y/N, are you alright dear?” He asked you, helping you walk inside while your left hand clutched at your chest.

You shook your head ‘no’. “The Billy… The Billy Boys… They found me,” you wheezed out.

Jeremiah’s eyes widened at the urgency of the situation. “Come with me, there’s a trap where you can hide in my office.”

The priest led you to the back, closing his office door behind him before moving the rug behind his desk, revealing a trapdoor. He unlocked the latch and lifted the door. “Hurry, get in,” he waved with his free hand.

You lowered yourself in the hole, sitting down in the small space, and looked back up at Jeremiah.

“Do you have a gun on you?” He asked you.

You shook your head ‘no’. “I was with Scudboat and Billy Lovelock, we were on our way to the Garrison. There was no need for one,” you answered.

Jeremiah motioned for you to hold the door open over your head while he rummaged around his office. “Tommy always keeps a gun in here just in case,” he explained to you as he continued his search. “You can never know when it’ll come in handy around here– Ah! There it is!”

He crouched down and handed you a pistol. “I’ll try to keep them out if they come around. Stay safe.”

You nervously gulped before nodding your head. “You too, Jeremiah.”

The priest smiled, an attempt to make you feel slightly better in the situation you were in, and closed the door above you. You heard him lock the latch and replace the rug above the trap.

You remained there for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds you could hear were your nervous, laboured breaths and the gun slightly shaking in your hands. You were about to start praying – you never really believed in God after everything you had been through, but what better place to turn to Him than in a church – when you heard the door to the office open, followed by the sound of feet walking on the floor. Scared, you held your breath and willed your hands to stop shaking as you got in position, gun pointed up and ready to shoot.

The rug was moved and the latch was unlocked. You could feel the beating of your heart grow faster and faster as the seconds went by. The door was pulled open and, upon seeing the gun pointed at him, Tommy raised one hand up while the other lowered the door on the floor.

“Woah!” He exclaimed, raising his other hand up, showing you that he was no threat. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just me.”

When your brain registered that the face in front of you was the one of Thomas Shelby, you let down your arms and sighed in relief.

“Oh Tommy!” You cried out. You dropped the gun on the ground while you stood up and wrapped your arms around Tommy’s neck, bringing him in an unexpected hug.

Tommy was surprised at first, but Scudboat had told him what happened outside of the Garrison and he had received a phone call from Johnny Dogs informing him that Jimmy McCavern and his goons were in town, so he held you against him, trying to comfort you as best he could.

“You're safe now,” he reassured you, his right hand scrunching your hair as it held your head. “They’re gone now, Jimmy’s gone, Brennan’s gone.”

You pulled away, your eyes red with tears. “What did you do to them?”

“I was able to strike a deal that they simply couldn’t refuse,” Tommy answered, his right hand now cupping your cheek. “They won’t bother you again Y/N, not ever.”

Overcome with a wave of strong emotions, you shocked both Tommy and yourself when you leaned forward and kissed him. It didn’t last more than a second for you pulled back right after, bringing your hands in front of your mouth as you gasped. “I’m so sorry Tommy, I don’t know what–”

“It’s alright,” Tommy interrupted you, shaking his head. “Let’s get you out of there, yeah?”

You nodded your head, still embarrassed of your actions, and picked up the gun before grabbing the hand Tommy held out for you. He helped you out of the trap and closed the door behind you while you stood up and put the gun on Jeremiah’s desk. When you turned around to face Tommy again, you found him mere inches away from you. Your breath hitched in your throat, you had never been this close to him before, except when you first met, when he interrogated you while you were tied up to a chair. You looked up at him, his unreadable icy blue eyes staring right back at you, and he was the one to surprise you by closing the distance between the two of you, his lips finding yours again.

Your eyes fluttered close by themselves as you lost yourself in the kiss, your hands finding their place at the base of his neck while his right hand cupped your cheek and his left one held you flush against him by the waist. It was no secret that Thomas Shelby was pretty to look at, but you never really thought about him in a romantic way before. That being said, there was no bone in your body opposed to kissing him. Actually, it even started up a fire inside you, one that you were too preoccupied to acknowledge right now.

Tommy broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours as you both took some deep breaths. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he said with his deep, low voice. “I’m glad they didn’t take you away from me.”

He never told anyone because he wouldn’t even let himself admit it, but Tommy had grown comfortable with your presence in the house. After what Grace did to him, he promised himself he would only focus on the business and his family, but his attachment for you came rather unexpectedly, just like your entrance in his life did. Still, he didn’t want to act on it, whether it was because of fear or because of disinterest in wanting some romantic relationship, he didn’t want to ponder on it too long. But after what happened today, when he heard your fiancé and Jimmy McCavern would try taking you back to Glasgow, he realised he would regret it for the rest of his life if you were gone without him having the chance to pursue anything.

You looked up at him, brushing his nose with yours as you moved your head. “Me too,” you whispered. “Thank you Tommy, for everything.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said, brushing your hair with his hand that previously held your waist. “Just, just stay with me. Don’t leave.”

The vulnerability in his voice made you smile, he had never been so open with you before. “I didn’t plan on leaving anyway,” you answered and kissed him again, safe in his arms.

[sam24]

String Beans and Goldfish

Summary: Defending someone who everyone hates is hard. Especially when you're standing in front of a bunch of gang members and Mr. Serpent Hottie won't stop staring at you.

Pairing: Sweet Pea x fem!reader

*****

As soon as you walked through the door, you felt the piercing gaze of 20 something pairs of eyes on you. There was only one that truly mattered, but you pushed down your weird volatile feelings and cleared your throat, stepping up to Jughead.

“What are you doing here?” He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were into gaming.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff. “Sorry Jughead, I’m not here to join this fun little club you’ve got going on here. I’m here to talk to you guys.”

“See Jughead, she’s probably here to tell us how stupid our club sounds. Literally who’s going to believe this.” Fangs whined.

You avoided looking at Fangs, because you knew exactly who would be standing right next to him.

“Honestly, I don’t give a shit about your club. I just need to talk to you guys about Reggie.”

You heard a collective groan among them at the name of Riverdale High’s star athlete, infamous among the Serpents for being a complete asshole.

“Why? You here to defend that dick? You his girlfriend or something?”

Shit.

You looked to where the voice came from, although you knew exactly who it was. You made eye contact with him, his eyes, cold and proud, staring into you intently, waiting for an answer. There was an emotion rippling through his body that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Anger? Jealousy? Both?

Sweet Pea remembered the first time he saw you- the drag race. You were leaning against the truck Reggie was sitting on, your elbow resting on Kevin’s shoulder, looking annoyed as you squinted in the sun.

You had taken a sip out of Reggie’s red solo cup, making a disgusted scrunched up face before shoving the drink back into his hands.

Sweet Pea almost smirked from his place on his motorcycle next to Toni, but remembered he wouldn’t be caught dead smiling at a Northsider.

He couldn’t help but steal glances at you the whole time, and he for sure as hell could see you looking back at him.

The second time he saw you was on the Serpents’ disastrous first day at Riverdale High.

You were standing off to the side behind Kevin, trying your best not to cringe at Veronica’s enthusiasm and Archie’s uncomfiness. Sweet Pea wasn’t even listening to whatever Veronica was saying, instead eye-flirting with you the whole time.

You didn’t say anything when Cheryl and Reggie made their dramatic entrance down the stairs, apart from an audible groan and an eye roll. But, he did see you pull the sleeve of Reggie’s jacket back when he tried to storm up to Sweet Pea, a glint of warning in your eyes. Reggie immediately backed down, and Sweet Pea scowled at the sight, a string of jealousy pulling in his stomach.

He later learned you were in his World History fifth hour class. You and Cheryl walked in late, accompanied by Principal Weatherbee. Cheryl holding a rag to her bleeding nose, and a bruise forming on your knuckles, and your seat was coincidentally the one right next to the one he sat in.

”Damn you must be one hungry chick.” Sweet Pea watched as you pulled out yet another pack of goldfish.

“Thanks, string bean.” You smiled, trying your best to cover up the rapid beating of your heart. “It’s one of my best qualities.”

He raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “It’s actually Sweet Pea.”

“Well, Sweet Pea, maybe you should take me to Pop’s one time and I can show you much I can eat in one sitting.” You said with a wink, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

And before Sweet Pea could flirt back, Reggie stormed over, narrowing his eyes at Sweet Pea, threat clear in his eyes. Before he could throw out an insult, the teacher interrupted, loudly telling Reggie to sit down.

He grudgingly did, but he spent the rest of class glaring murderously at Sweet Pea. And of course, Sweet Pea flirted with you even more because of that.

And now you were here, at an undercover Serpent meeting trying to defend him.

That filled Sweet Pea with rage.

“Look, string- Sweet Pea. I’m not trying to make up excuses for him. I’m just trying to show you his side.”

“Those sound an awful lot like excuses, sweetheart.” Sweet Pea sneered.

You tried not to choke at the nickname.

“Look, Pea, I don’t want to get in the middle of whatever sexual tension is going on between you two, but how about we hear what she’s gotta say.” Toni tried to reason.

“Thank you.” You sent Toni a warm smile, ignoring the first part of her sentence, before facing the rest of them.

“Okay look. I know, Reggie is an asshole. But deep down . . . he’s actually still kind of an asshole- you know what, I have no clue where I’m going with this, lemme start over.” You said with the wave of your hand. “Reggie’s going through a lot right now. His dad- let’s just say he isn’t the best father.”

You paused, thinking how to phrase your thoughts. “He’s going through a lot of shit at home, and-”

“So? That gives him a right to treat us like shit? Tell Reggie to get over himself. Other kids get abused, doesn’t mean they go around acting like dickbags.” Sweet Pea snarled, venom dripping from his voice.

You narrowed your eyes at him, getting defensive. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying- honestly I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

You looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling stupid. You kicked at the tile, your converse skidding on the floor.

“I’ve known Reggie for a long time, and what I’ve accumulated over all this time is that Reggie is terrible with feelings. When he’s mad, he’s angry. When he’s sad, he’s angry. When he feels like shit, he’s angry. It may not seem like it, but he’s really hurting inside. So he thinks the solution is to take it out on other people. And you guys are the perfect target.” You got quieter, the previous anger in your voice turning into sadness.

Sweet Pea suddenly felt guilty for yelling, which was a feeling he rarely ever felt.

“Look, guys. If you want to beat him up, go for it, he honestly deserves it for being so terrible.” You took in a breath. “But try not to kill him, please. He’s my best friend.” Your voice went down to a whisper at the end.

The kid next to Sweet Pea rolled his eyes. “Please. Save the acting, bitc-”

He was quickly silenced by the thunderous slam of Sweet Pea’s palm onto the desk.

“Nevermind.” His jaw clenched.

Sweet Pea’s eyes stayed on the desk, but he caught the slight smile on your face. He was too proud to tell you that he’ll try to go easy on Reggie, just for you, but you understood.

And that was what made you special.

Before anyone could say anything, Reggie’s voice echoed in the hallway, calling your name.

“You should probably go before your boyfriend gets mad.” Sweet Pea muttered angrily, falling even deeper into the dark pit called jealousy.

You turned to walk out the door, but not before looking Sweet Pea dead in the eye.

”He’s not my boyfriend, string bean.”

[storm-angel989]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do valentino x teen reader where as, teen reader is in her rebellious era and how valentino would handle the situation?

Thank you in advanced! i love your works and i hope u have a great day!

Hi friend,

So I tried to make this different from my others- rather than going through a hair dying, secret piercing rebellion, what about those of us who decided we wanted to change the world without truly understanding why the world was the way it was? Those of us who tried to protest, to fight against the way life is run? 

Enjoy!

<3 Mandy  

Valentino stared at his daughter in disbelief. Disbelief that she would be so bold. Disbelief that she would dare to question the very thing that brought them the comfort and safety they surrounded themselves with. Disbelief that she honestly thought she would get out the door, let alone get away with dressed….

Dressed like that. 

“It’s a statement, Dad,” Reader snapped. “Now move, my friends and I have plans.”

“If you think for one second my daughter, Vox and Velvette’s niece, is going to involve herself in anything that has to do with canceling soul bound contracts you’ve got another thing coming,” Valentino retorted. 

“Hell is paved with the labor of unpaid souls,” his daughter replied as she crossed her arms over her chest. “And it’s about time my generation does something about it.”

Valentino took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, “put your tits away. And then we can talk about your misguided ideals.” 

“Aren't you the overlord of lust?” She growled. “Shouldn’t you be so proud that I…”

“I will not tell you again. No daughter of mine will leave this building dressed like…like…” Valentino couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Readers eyes narrowed. “Dressed like what, Dad? Like one of your whores? My point exactly, you wouldn’t want your daughter dressed like this! Those souls are someone's daughter, someone’s..”

Valentino felt his temper flare, and it took every single ounce of his self control to not explode right then and there. How could he have raised such a disrespectful brat? A child who dared to desire to shout about things she knew nothing about? A child who so blatantly disrespected everything her family had worked so hard to build. 

“Go to your room,” he said finally, “now.”

“I hate you!” She screamed. 

To his relief, she whirled around and a moment later, he heard the door slam. With a sigh, he turned back to the table and tossed what remained of his now cold breakfast into the trash. 

“You’ve got your hands full today, don’t you?” Vox remarked as he took a drink of his coffee. “Good call on keeping her home.”

“Where did I go wrong?” Valentino asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Anyone?”

Vox and Velvette exchanged glances. To Valentino’s irritation, Vox smirked and Velvette rolled her eyes.

“If you have any ideas, please, I’d love to hear them,” Valentino said sarcastically as he flopped himself back into his chair.

“I mean, Val, you’ve always been so good at keeping her out of the dark side of hell,” Vox began slowly. “Maybe it’s time you show her what life would be like if we didn’t…if we didn’t offer the employment opportunities that we do.”

“Or! Better suggestion, if you don’t want to traumatize the poor kid,” Velvette interjected, “offer to let her sit in Vox’s office and read through any contract she’d like. See the terms and conditions and see that really, we’re doing all sinners and hellborne a favor. And we pay them. Better than most, I would think.” 

Vox choked on his coffee and in one fell motion, his cup slammed against the table. “You want me…to take whatever evil that swept up my sweet niece…into my office and let her loose on our contracts? Just let her know all the dirty details?”

“Obviously, keep the worst ones tucked away, but give her a chance to see…even the slightly more in our favor agreements,” Velvette replied. “Shove some common sense into her face. That’ll help.” 

“If it’s the best idea we’ve got…ugh,” Valentino grumbled. “When exactly will she find her common sense again?”

“Sorry Val, if she’s anything like us…it’s gonna be awhile,” Vox answered with a grin.

[theheartofthestar]

Prompt 20 - Florist AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 20th - 837 words

Remus looks up when he hears the door bell chime. It's a slow Tuesday, so he's just been sitting behind the counter catching up on some reading. The four men carry themselves as if they are still school boys, pushing each other and talking above one another, but by their looks Remus can tell they must be around his own age.

One of the men is finally pushed forward, all long, silky black curls framing a handsome face. Sharp nose above a perfect bow of pale lips. Remus eyes trace the man's face up to his eyes, the most beautiful set of grey eyes, unnerving yet appealing. The man clears his throat and Remus lifts his eyebrows, hoping to mask the attraction he feels behind what he hopes comes off as justified annoyance at four grown men acting like boys in a tiny flower shop on a Tuesday afternoon.

"Hi, uhm, you're handsome" the man says, and Remus smirks even through he knows his face is coloring. The other three snort.

"Subtle, Sirius, very subtle" the man with face piercings laughs.

"I mean, have you got, uhm-" Sirius pauses, as if they had walked in without a clear plan on what exactly they wanted to buy from a flower shop. "-flowers?"

"Oh my god"

"Pads!"

"Zero rizz, I swear"

"Yeah, we've got flowers" Remus feels his heart doing acrobatics on his chest. "What type are you looking for?"

"Uhm, eh, I don't know, maybe something like that?" Sirius scrambles to find something around the shop that might look like something that's ready to be sold. He ends up pointing at the flower crowns Remus made this morning, now sitting on a shelf and waiting to be delivered tomorrow morning.

"Flower crowns." Remus says, to confirm. Never mind he feels he'll probably melt if he sees this gorgeous being in a flower crown of all things.

"Yes" Sirius looks awkward, but Remus catches the very clear way his smile also carries a certain flirt. And they say the love of your life will never knock on your door.

"Oh, those are commissioned, they aren't for sale. But how about-" Remus tries to think of a way to keep them in the shop a bit longer. Maybe he'll get lucky and manage to get a phone number. "-how about I teach you how to make them? You pay for the flowers, and I'll just show you how to wave them"

It's a silly idea, but one that Lily has been pestering him about ever since they went together to that sip-and-paint some weeks ago. The dark skinned man immediately perks up.

"Like a workshop?" He says excitedly, and the man who looks just like Sirius groans. Remus thinks maybe they are brothers. "I love workshops! Yes, absolutely! Where do we sit?"

And so starts an afternoon Remus didn't plan on having, stealing glances and sharing small smiles with this handsome angel that happened to walk into his shop. Remus learns their names, listens to their friendly bickering and tries to keep his blush and his breathing under control when Sirius' calf presses against his under the table.

When they are done, the four of them wear their flower crowns proudly. The flowers in James' crown have lost half their petals, rough hands as his are. Barty refused to remove the thorns from his rose's stems, and Remus wonders idly what's up with that. Regulus' crown is by far the prettiest, and blushes brightly when James says as much. But it is Sirius' crown that looks the loveliest, because the loveliest pair of hands wove it.

The group dawdles by the door for a bit before they go, and James very obviously gives Sirius a shove towards the counter behind which Remus is trying to keep his hands busy to avoid staring at the most beautiful being he's ever laid eyes upon. But Sirius says nothing, just smiles a bit awkwardly and so Remus says nothing, just blushes and crinkles his eyes. The friends clearly feel some help is needed, because James comes forward and slings an arm around Sirius' shoulders

"So how long do these last, Remus?" James says, vaguely pointing at his and Sirius' flower crowns. Remus has to clear his throat before answering.

"About four days, I would say-" whatever he was going to continue with is interrupted by James.

"Great! So you can expect Pads here to come by to pick up another one." James pats Sirius on his chest as he says so.

"I can?

"Prongs-"

"Same time next week? Yes? Awesome, he'll bring some coffee too. It's a date, tá!" And with that, James drags a mortified looking Sirius and his other two very amused friends out of the store. Before they slide out of sight, Sirius catches his eye and smiles.

Remus smiles looking at the flower crown in his hands. Next Tuesday can't come fast enough.

(you can read more of my work here)

[buckybarnesisdaddy]

Summer Lovin’ pt2

Summary: Everyone learns the truth about Peggy and Everly’s past. Bucky and Steve lend an ear, and both men make it clear who their heads have turned to.

Pairing: Everly(Reader) X Steve Rogers, Everly(R) X BuckyBarnes, Jake Jensen X Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff X Bucky Barnes. Past Everly(R) X Colin Shea, Past Peggy X Colin Shea, Past Everly(R) X Brock Rumlow.

Rating: Mature!

Warnings: Anger, yelling, talks of cheating, talks of post physical abuse, talks of death, flirting.

A/N: I am loving this story and the drama is only getting started! 🤭

Previous

All you see is red and if Natasha hadn’t been right behind you, your fist would have found Peggy’s jaw in about three seconds. “Easy, there.” Natasha says as she catches your hand and spins you back to face her. “She’s not worth getting kicked out.” She says as she squeezes your shoulders.

“That’s why you looked so familiar! Fuck you!” You yell as Natasha moves you away, wanting to create distance between you and Peggy.

“What the hell is going?” Bucky asks as he runs up beside you.

“Why is everyone screaming?” Jake asks as he walks up with Wanda.

“Everly, it’s not what it looks like!” Steve exclaims as he shoves Peggy off of him.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it, Steven.” Peggy says trying to be flirty but missing the mark completely. Steve turns to her, his piercing gaze quieting her quickly.

“My name is Steve. Not Steven. And I didn’t like it. In fact I was telling you to slow down and to stop. Short of throwing you on the ground I don’t know what else I could have done.” Steve exclaims before he quickly crosses over the lawn to you. “Please Everly, let me explain-“ you cut him off with a glare of your own.

“We will handle this later,” your gaze shifts over his shoulder to Peggy. “You just can’t help stealing men who aren’t yours, can you?!” You yell. Peggy scoffs and walks closer, hands on her hips and her nose in the air.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Everly. This is the name of the game. Everyone flirts and switches partners the whole time. Don’t get so hurt about it.” She tries to brush off your comment, she thinks you won’t. That you won’t air the dirty laundry between you two, but she has underestimated you.

“Well, what about in life? Huh?! Is it ‘the name of the game’ to sleep with someone else’s boyfriend?!” You yell, you don’t mean to but the way Peggy is taken aback makes you feel better about yelling. Bucky and Steve look at you and then back at Peggy. Natasha scoffs and glares at the woman still holding her head high.

“Wait?” Bucky asks. “You are the woman who broke up Everly’s last relationship?”

“Because you had an affair with her boyfriend.” Steve continues.

“The one and only. Took me hearing her say those same disgusting words to Steve to remember where I had seen her before.” You answer for her. Peggy’s eyes shift quickly as she looks at everyone, thinking on her feet.

“For the record, Everly, Colin had me fooled as well. I thought he was single, granted newly single but I didn’t know you two were still together.” Peggy convincingly explains, but you know better. You know what you heard that day.

✨7 months ago✨

You just got home from work, dropping your keys in the bowl by the door and setting your bags down. You were suppose to go straight over to your parents house but you forgot your suitcase that morning before you left. You’ll need it for the week away so you just decide to stop by the apartment and grab it before you head out, maybe get a little goodbye in with Colin before the long week you’ll be spending apart. Your first sign should have been the Colin’s shirt tossed over the back of the couch. He never leaves his clothes laying around like that because he knows how it bothers you. But you tell yourself it’s because he thinks he’s alone for the week, he’s probably just getting a head start on acting like a slob. The next should have been the open bottle of wine on the coffee table, because he knows how you hate wasting good wine. You tell yourself that he’s gonna come back and finish it. Sadly the one you couldn’t explain away, the one that stopped you in your tracks, the one that made you speechless, was the woman’s voice coming from behind the closed bedroom door. You hear Colin’s familiar sounds, the ones that make you melt, that make you respond in a similar ways. Sound that only you can pull from him. Yet now in your bed, in your room, in your apartment some other woman is pulling those sounds from his mouth. Your boyfriend, the one that just asked your dad for his permission to marry you. The boyfriend who always promised to never hurt you, is now breaking every trust he helped you rebuild and reopening every old scar he had helped heal. “Next time we are doing this at my place.” The woman says. ‘Next time?’ You think, ‘how long has this been going on?’ The mystery women continues. “I hate sleeping with you while there is a picture of the two of you on the damn wall.” You are enraged, ‘of course there are pictures of me and my boyfriend, in my damn house!’ You scream in your mind, doing your best to stay silent so you can hear what Colin says back.

“We have to stop this. This isn’t going anywhere, I love Everly.” Colin groans, hearing the pleasure in his voice. As he says they have to stop he pushes himself farther over the edge.

“I know, and I don’t care, touch me.” The woman answers back and then you hear her hushed moans. Your feet are moving before you can comprehend what’s happening. You swing open the bedroom door, letting it slam back again the wall. Colin jumps out of bed and stands next to it while facing the door. Meeting your gaze, he instantly feels regret and remorse but he knows better than to speak. You walk past him and grab your suitcase and the last couple things on your nightstand. There is a picture of you and Colin staring back at you as you turn to leave the room, all you do is take it off the wall and drop it to the ground. Glass breaks everywhere and the picture is ripped by the glass shards. You don’t look back as you walk down the hall and out the front door, not even caring to slam it. Tears fill your eyes on the elevator ride as you call your mom to tell her you are on your way home.

✨Present day✨

You cock your eyebrow and go in for the kill. “Oh really, Peggy?!? Because as you were actively fucking my boyfriend you said, and I quote, ‘Next time we are doing this at my place. I hate sleeping with you while there is a picture of you two on your damn wall.’ Then when he told you he loved me and that his affair with you wasn’t going anywhere you said, ‘I know, I don’t care. Touch me.” You walk closer to her. “You knew the whole time so don’t try and play sweet now!” You snap at her. “I just wanna know why?!” You ask. Natasha inching closer just in case she needs to restrain you from punching Peggy and getting kicked off the island. “Why did you go after Colin knowing he was taken. Why did you go after Steve knowing he was taken. What did I ever do to you?!!” You yell and Peggy crosses her arms as she shakes her head as she starts to walk away. “No! You don’t get to just walk away from this.” You chase after her, she turns around quickly and you two are face to face.

“I knew him first!” She yells. You stand your ground and refusing to look away. The group behind you shuffles and you hear Jake whisper to Wanda.

“Wait, so Peggy knew Steve too?” Wanda pats his face and quietly says ‘no’. Peggy rolls her eyes having heard Jake.

“I worked with Colin, we were sleeping together, nothing serious but I thought maybe we would eventually become something more. But then he starts going on and on about ‘the most amazing girl he’s ever met’. Even after fucking me, he was going on and on about you!” She screams. She takes a step back and you allow her that, giving her the space she needs if only for a moment. “About 2 years into our arrangement he stopped mentioning you so I thought, ‘this is my chance.’ So I made a move and he shot me down, saying he ‘had a lot on his mind’. He pushed me away and whenever I came over he wouldn’t even let me in his apartment.” Peggy looks off to the side and shakes her head. “Turns out you had already moved in. He had ‘a lot on his mind’ because you showed up on his doorstep one day begging for a place to stay. And because he was so in love with you, he folded to your every ask. He chose you over me and then for the next 3 years of my life I was kept at a distance- I had lost my friend! Because of you!” Your mind races with so many thoughts, connecting the dots and becoming even angrier. This time you choose quiet rage,

“I don’t care who knew him first, Peggy. He wasn’t with you when we started dating but you seduced him back into your arms. He’s not faultless in this, it’s his fault as much as it’s yours. So no explanation will make me ‘see things your way.’ You were sleeping with someone else’s man and you are trying to justify it, but there is no justification. And now you’re just being vindictive against me and going after Steve. Grow up, Peggy.” You turn and walk away, she tries to get the last laugh.

“You moved in while we were still- we were still something, Everly! You aren’t any better!” She yells, you spin around debating whether to tell the truth and spill sensitive information on camera.

“I had known Colin for 5 years. He knew about my previous relationship and when I needed help he let me move in. I had only been with Colin for 2 years when I caught the two of you together. There was a whole year between the end of your arrangement with him and when we started dating. So again, there is no explanation that makes anything you did okay.” You turn and walk away, past the others who throw glances towards Peggy and call after you as you walk away, heading into the villa and up to the bedroom.

You sit on the terrace overlooking the whole villa. Your knees tucked to your chest and your arms wrapped around your legs. Tears drip down your face and drop onto your legs as you silently cry. “Ugh Everly, get over it.” You say to yourself, “It’s been almost 7 months and he never even tried to apologize.” You hear a knock on the terrace door and your head turns to see who it is. He leans against the doorframe, his blue eyes are gentle and kind as he looks over you with concern. “Hi, Bucky.” You say quietly. He gently smiles and walks through the door closing it behind him.

“For the record Steve and I played rock, paper, scissors to see who would get to talk to you first.” He smiles as he sits next to you and you gently smile. “So don’t think he didn’t want to talk to you, cause he really did. He wanted to explain everything, but I wanted to check on you,” you meet his gaze and more tears fall. He lays his hand on your head and strokes your hair. “So how are you doing?” You let out a sad laugh.

“I’m angry, Bucky. At Peggy, at Colin, hell even a little at Steve.” You look at Bucky who is about to defend his friend. “And yes I know he was trying to get her to stop while still being respectful, but sometimes you just gotta be a little rude.” Bucky laughs and nods.

“Yeah, well Steve is rarely rude.” Bucky shrugs. “He can be stupid, stubborn, and jump into situations without really thinking, but he isn’t rude.” You wipe your eyes. “And he’d never hurt someone purposefully.” You take Bucky’s hand in yours and give it a squeeze. “Now, you wanna talk about everything that just happened?” You can’t help but laugh.

“Did you not hear the screaming match?” Bucky smiles and you look up at the sky, this beautiful summer night spoiled by so much anger.

“Just tell me this, what happened between you and Colin? Why would Peggy think you two were together before you were?” You turn and look at Bucky, something in your gut tells you to trust him. You take his left hand in yours, feeling his scars along his wrist and along his forearm, tracing them with your fingers. Bucky can see the struggle within you, knowing you are trying to decide whether to trust him or not. He draws his fingers across your palm and stays quiet, letting you work out what you want to do. You look up and just know, his eyes say it all, he won’t let you down.

“Colin let me move in with him because I was recovering and hiding from my abusive ex-boyfriend. Colin helped put me back together and restored my trust in people.” You wipe a tear again and Bucky decides to push.

“What happened, with your ex? If you don’t mind me asking.” You hold his hand tighter.

“He left me for dead on our kitchen floor when I tried to leave him and when I didn’t die he promised he would find me and make sure he finished the job.” You refuse to look at Bucky, you don’t want his pity and that’s how everyone looks at you when you tell them about Brock.

“Look at me, Everly. Please?” Bucky asks, his voice soft. You look and his gaze almost heals the pain in your heart at that moment. “I am so sorry- no Woman- no one should ever have to go through that. I am glad you got away and I am happy that for a moment someone was able to help you heal from the damage he did. I’m sorry he didn’t turn out to be much better though.” Your tears start to fall and Bucky pulls you into a hug. His hands rubbing your back, calming you down. You suddenly remember that you are surrounded by cameras, and you only just met Bucky that morning. You quickly sit up and look at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry I-“ you scoot away and blush as you take a breath. “Umm thank you for your help, really it as very kind.” You sigh as you stand up. “I should probably find Steve, get all this settled before bed.” You go to walk away and Bucky stands up, catching your hand. Making sure he doesn’t pull or grip you too tight.

“Hey, just-“ he pulls you close, “come here real quick.” He gives you a hug, you feel safe and seen. You both take in a deep breath and enjoy the moment before he pulls back and squeezes your shoulders. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here, Everly. I meant what I said earlier, I’m not bowing out so easily.” He takes a respectable step back and then kisses your hand. “I’ll go get Steve and send him up here, it will give you two some privacy.” He drops your hand and walks to the door before he leaves you softly call after him.

“Bucky?” He hums in response as he turns around. “Thank you for listening.” Bucky’s eyes light up and you can’t help but smile.

“You’re welcome, Everly. Anytime. Steve will be right up.” And with that Bucky disappears down the stairs.

You sit on the bench staring up at the moon. Bucky is the first person you’ve told since Colin, and that decision feels so right you didn’t feel the need to tell him ‘don’t tell anyone.’ You feel safe with Bucky, a feeling and emotion that eventually came back after a lot of professional help. You went to therapy after you left Brock, Colin made you. He said you needed to talk to a professional, so you made weekly appointments. Doing the work and seeking help along with Colin being there for you was healing and exactly what you needed. He helped when you needed him most and you can’t imagine that time without him. Getting over him wasn’t hard though. Maybe it was because of the betrayal or because you had fallen for him because he was your ‘savior’, but when your phone didn’t ring with his thousand apologies and no flowers came to beg for you back, you didn’t break. Losing him hurt and adjusting to single life again was hard but there wasn’t a day that went by where you missed him. What you had? Sure, but actually missing Colin? No. You left the apartment that day and never looked back. He was sweet and kind but he was human and he made mistakes, him not even trying to fix them made you aware of just how ‘human’ he was. “Everly?” Steve’s voice calls you out of your thoughts. You straighten up and motion for him to join you. “Look, I want to apologize for what you saw- no, for what I’d did, or what I didn’t do.” You give him a weak smile and he turns to face you. “I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be alone with her knowing how she felt about me. I should have tried harder to push her away. Look I know what I said earlier, I found her intriguing and I was into her but hearing about what she did to you. I can confidently say my head is firmly turned to you.” You let out a laugh and look down at the ground, “which I know sounds like the stupidest things to possibly say at this moment but I just need you to know her stunts didn’t do what she wanted them to. In fact they put me more off of her.” He takes your hands in his and his eyes are pleading with you to believe him.

“I believe you, Steve.” Your place your hand on the side of his face and brush your thumb over his cheek. “Honestly all of the emotions tonight had more to do with the past rather than what Peggy did today.” Steve furrows his brow and you smile a little. “I mean you are sweet and I really do hate that she moved in on you, but we have known each other for 12 hours so I can’t be as mad as I was with Colin.” Steve nods and laughs.

“Yeah, I get that.” His eyes soften and he brushes your cheek with his thumb, copying the movement you just did to him. “12 hours or not, I really do like you. And I really really want to start over with you. Forget Peggy, forget all the drama. What do you say?” Your breath catches and your gaze shifts to the ground and then back at him.

“I’d like that, but there are a few things you should know before we start over.” Steve nods.

“I’m all ears.” He leans back and drops his arm across the back of the bench.

“I need you to know that I was never with Colin while he was involved with Peggy. I didn’t know her- never even saw her, but I knew about her. Colin would mention her from time to time but she never came over and he never went out. I thought they worked together and had a fling.” You take another breath before looking at him. You see the same trusting gaze that you found with Bucky. So you decide to tell him, “And the reason I moved in with him was because my ex boyfriend beat me so bad I almost died, Colin helped me hide, my ex didn’t know about him so I was safe there. I was safe with him, until I wasn’t.” You see Steve straighten up and clench his fist. “He didn’t hurt me, physically. He just- when I needed him to be better he couldn’t be.” You meet Steve’s gaze and it’s different. Bucky’s healed you, Steve’s is strengthening you, both as important as the other.

“Is this creep still alive?” Steve asks, his jaw clenched. You feel oddly comfortable with him so you reach out and pat his thigh as you lightly laugh.

“Umm no, actually.” Steve glances at you. “He worked on some special forces thing. Secret government mission and all, he didn’t make it home and he had me listed as his ‘family’ so I got the notice.” You sigh and Steve nods. “He was killed in action right around the time Colin and I started dating..” A flash of something passes over Steve’s face. He quickly looks at you, you can’t quite figure out why he has that look.

“What was his name?” He asks. You are taken aback and you shake your head, thrown by his question, why does he care what his name was?

“Brock, Brock Rumlow.” The name sends shivers down your spine. Steve nods, there is a flash of something in his eyes and then it’s gone. He nods and then takes your hands.

“I’m sorry but I’m glad he can’t hurt you anymore.” You reach out and rub his shoulder and let your hand fall on his chest.

“Me too, Steve.” His eyes are soft and his smile is sweet, he leans in and gives you a gentle kiss. You let him linger for a moment before you gently push him away. “Steve?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes as he leans his forehead against yours. “you said you had ‘a few things’ you wanted to talk about.” You nod, “I’m guessing this one is about Bucky.” You nod again and Steve nods too. He kisses your head and then sits back. “Even if my head isn’t turned anymore, yours still is.”

“Yeah, it is.” You admit. Steve looks up at the sky, the stars shining bright. He smiles and then looks at you.

“Well, I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. In fact I’m kinda known for running in head first.” He smirks and you can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, Bucky mentioned something about you being Stubborn.” You wink and Steve laughs.

“Stubborn and not willing to give up on something I believe in.” He scoots closer to you. “And I believe we could have something pretty amazing.”

“Oh do you?” You ask teasing him.

“I do,” he takes your face in his hands. “And I’m willing to put my actions where my mouth is.” He kisses you as he wraps his arms around your waist. You smile against his lips and then pull back. “So, bedtime?” Steve asks and you bite your lip and nod.

“Yeah, let’s head inside.” You pull away but take his hand. Steve stops you for a moment. “Are we okay, Everly?” You squeeze his hand and he takes that as a yes. You lead him downstairs and into the bedroom where the others are getting ready for bed.

“OooOOooo” you hear someone calling, you turn and you see Natasha basically catcalling Bucky. He smirks as he strides past everyone already lounging in bed. His black boxer briefs clinging to him in all the right places. All day and you never noticed how toned his thighs are or maybe you did but you were trying to be respectful. He meets your gaze and he winks before he jumps onto the bed with Natasha. She laughs and flings a pillow into his stomach which he promptly tosses back at her. You giggle and look at Steve who is just shaking his head as he laughs.

“I’m gonna get changed.” You tell him as you head off to the closet. Foot steps hurry behind you and you prepare yourself for another round with Peggy. To your surprise, it’s Natasha and Wanda.

“Okay, you have to spill everything!” Wanda gushes and sits at one of the vanities. Natasha sits next to her and backs up her statement.

“Yeah, dish on what took so long with the beautiful, buff twins over there.” Natasha sits back and smirks. A blush rises on your cheeks and you can’t hide the smile breaking on your face.

“Bucky came and talked to me first. He was really sweet and just wanted to check on me, make sure I was okay.” You fidget with your pajamas in hand. “Then It was Steve’s turn, he wanted to make sure we were okay, explain himself and apologize.” Natasha nods and looks at Wanda.

“Okay so where do you stand with him?” She asks as she leans forward.

“Well, I believe him when he says he isn’t into her anymore and the stunt she pulled makes him that more turned off by her.” You are quiet for a moment and the two ladies let you sit in your thoughts for a moment. “I told them both about my past, which I can’t talk about anymore tonight but I promise to fill you both in,” Wanda gets up and hugs you and Natasha squeezes your hand as you wipe a little tear away with the other. “I was honest with him that even though I am with him my head is still turned a little by Bucky.” You glance at Natasha and she smiles.

“Hey, I’ll be honest, my head is a little turned by everyone here.” She shrugs. “So you aren’t hurting my feelings saying that.” You laugh and look around.

“I feel horrible that my drama made the first day end so abruptly.” You sit down on the floor and they both join you.

“No!” Wanda exclaims, “it was Peggy and her vindictive ways! If she had just played the game like the rest of us you could have gone the whole summer never having known! But she wanted to get under your skin, she wanted to create the drama. Don’t feel bad for defending yourself.” Wanda states. You sniffle and thank her.

“So how are you and Jake?” You ask and Wanda blushes, she looks around to make sure no one got up to eavesdrop. She leans in and whispers.

“He is so dreamy!” She gushes. You and Natasha laugh and tease her a little.

“Oh look at Wanda, ready to walk off the island already!” Natasha pokes at her and she blushes.

“Well not quite. But he has potential! I’m ready to flirt my ass off tomorrow and really work at getting to know him.” She says proudly. “Natasha, what is your plan?”

Natasha glances at you and then back at Wanda.

“You know I’m not sure. I have to be honest, I might put in the flirt tomorrow on Steve, see where it goes. Respectfully of course!” She looks to you and you smile. You lean your head on her shoulder.

“Thank you for telling me and not doing it behind my back.” You say as you squeeze her arm in yours and sigh. “I’m gonna test the waters with Steve and Bucky tomorrow, see if sparks start flying, you know?”

“Yes!” Wanda yells too loudly.

“Absolutely!” Natasha agrees. Steve and Bucky come running in.

“Everything okay?” Bucky asks, looking between the three women. You blush and the other two just laugh and nod.

“Yup! We’re perfect Buck! Now go lay down!” Natasha shoos him away. Steve and Bucky can hear the laughter and giggles as they walk away from the closet. Steve pulls Bucky to the side and motions for him to follow. Bucky does and ends up in the stairwell with Steve.

“Did Everly tell you about her past? About her Ex?” Steve asks, leaning against the wall.

“Colin?” Bucky questions.

“No,” Steve looks to make sure no one is listening. “About the one who-“ Bucky cuts him off.

“Oh, yeah,” her nods and looks to the ground. “Yeah she did. I was about three seconds away from asking for his address cause ‘I just wanna talk’. God what an asshole.” Bucky says as he crosses his arms. He sits on the top stair and Steve settles on the stair two down from him.

“Well, he’s dead.” Steve says, gaging Bucky’s reaction.

“Good riddance!” Bucky almost cheers, Steve stops him, shushing him a little and leaning in closer.

“It was Rumlow, Buck.” Steve says, his jaw clenched. Bucky’s heart stops for a moment, the memories flooding back to him. He hangs his head in his hands and rubs his face before he looks up to meet Steve’s gaze.

“Were they together before he died?” The tension in Bucky’s voice is painful, Steve knows he is holding back so he doesn’t put a hole in the wall.

“Yeah, from what she told me, it sounded like there was only a year between their break up and when he died.” Steve explains, examining his own hands, there is a scar across his knuckles from where he had taken out his anger on the very man they are speaking about. Bucky has a few knife scars from him as well.

“So,” Bucky is finally putting all the pieces together. The ones that Steve put together as he talked with you on the terrace. “The woman he would brag about and show photos of, was Everly.” Steve nods. “And the woman he said was an ‘obedient bitch’, was Everly.” Steve leans his head back against the wall. “And the Woman you and I tried to find and save from him because we were tired of hearing his stories about how he hurt her, that woman was Everly.” Steve look at Bucky and nods, a slight tear in his eye.

“Yeah, Buck.” Steve confirm/ his voice breaking. “She was dating him during that time so unless he was cheating on her, then yeah.” Bucky hangs his head again and Steve look up at the ceiling. “God, I hope he was cheating on her.” Steve whispers, Bucky can’t believe it but he agrees with Steve, hoping against all odds that you weren’t the woman Brock would talk about. “This incredible woman has been hurt enough, the last thing I want to do is end up in a fight over her especially if it could cost me my best friend.” Bucky looks at Steve and nods. “I can’t deny what you two have, I can see it. Had she walked out first she would have chosen you.” Bucky goes to interrupt but Steve won’t let him. “Yet I can’t help but feel a connection with her, Buck.” Steve sighs, “I’m not gonna back down. I’m not gonna be macho, alpha man and ‘stake my claim on her’ but I’m also not gonna give up without a honorable fight. So may the best man, Win.” Bucky laughs to himself and nods. He reaches a hand out and shakes Steve’s while they stand up.

“I intend to, Stevie!” He jokes and Steve laughs, patting his back and heading off to the bedroom.

“So Everly, are you gonna wear a sexy little outfit tonight? Or are you sleeping alone?” Wanda asks. You look at your options and decide to throw caution to the wind.

“You know what?! Why the hell not!” You grab a little black Teddie. It’s lace but not seen through and still leaves quite a bit to the imagination.

“What about this?” You hold it up to get their opinions. You Wanda squeals and Natasha smirks.

“Well now I want to cuddle in bed with you.” Natasha teases and you laugh, giving her hip a bump with yours.

“And I want to wash and borrow it!” Wanda says. You laugh.

“We will see!” You say and Wanda takes that as a yes. They both get quiet and go stone cold, you turn to see what caused it, Peggy stands in the doorway, all changed and ready for bed. She puts her stuff down and heads into the bedroom. You hear Steve’s voice say, ‘Absolutely not, we can talk in the morning in clear view of others.’ You hear her shuffle away and settle on a bed, looking back at Natasha and Wanda, you can’t help but smile a little.

“Bet that felt nice to hear Stevie say.” Natasha says, teasing Steve in the process with his little nickname. You nod and beam at her.

“It really did. Now you two go to bed, I need to shower and I’ll meet y’all in there.” They shuffle to bed and leave you to it. It’s the quickest shower of your life and you rush through some of your steps, not wanting to keep everyone up even later, the lights won’t go off till everyone is in bed. You braid your hair and step into your slippers. You give yourself one final check and make your way out to the bedroom. You expect to find everyone asleep but instead everyone is awake and talking. Except when they see you. The boys stop talking and their jaws drop. You feel slightly bad because even Jake is putting his glasses back on to get a good look at you.

“Wow, Everly. You look-“ Steve starts to say but is interrupted.

“Stunning” Bucky says, his eyes gleaming as he looks at you.

“Incredible” Sam admits as he sits up in bed.

“Wow,” is all Jake says before he turns back to Wanda and gives her a sheepish look. She pats his face and then takes his glasses back off.

“You had your look, now bed.” She says and Jake blushes before he snuggles up to Wanda, but not before throwing another glance your way. Steve lifts your side of the covers and you slip off your slippers and climb into bed with him. You notice he is shirtless and he has the same type of boxer briefs that Bucky has. They are tight in all the right places and you want to get a better look, maybe later. You see a steady blush creep up on Steve’s cheeks and it spreads down his neck and across his chest. It’s really cute and you wonder if that blush spreads everywhere or if it just stops at his peck.

“Hi,” he whispers as you two lay down and he pulls the covers over you both. The lights finally go out and there is a collective sigh of relief. Steve reaches out and brushes your hair back from your face, grazing his thumb across your cheek.

“Hi,” you answer back. You move a little closer.

“I want to be respectful, so I want to ask,” he takes a breath, “do you want to cuddle? Or would you rather your own space tonight. I don’t mind either way.” You bite your lip as you think, a cuddle wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Besides, it’s been months since you were last cuddled.

“I’d love a cuddle.” You admit, you can see Steve’s smile even in the dark. You go to turn over to be the little spoon when Steve stops you.

“Oh, you know- I’m kinda the little spoon usually.” You can’t hide the shock on your face. You shouldn’t have assumed but he did offer the cuddles so you naturally thought he’d be the one holding you. You try to find you voice but he soon is laughing and pulling you close into his big arms. “Sorry I had to,” you laugh and poke his side before you turn over.

“Not funny.” You pretend to pout. He laughs and kisses your head.

“It was a little funny.” He says and you have to agree. For the first time in months you fall asleep in a man’s arms and you don’t worry about your safety, wellbeing, or if he’s cheating on you. It’s been one heck of a day and it’s only day one. You just pray the rest of the summer isn’t as exciting.

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My New Neighbor - Chapter 8: What the Fuck Just Happened?

My New Neighbor Chapter 8: What the Fuck Just Happened?

TRIGGER WARNING: This story will eventually contain violence, angst, threat of death, swearing, dark humor, adult themes like sex & drugs, racism, classism, sexism etc. Do not say you have not been warned

Chapter 8:

My shift at Dave & Crusters had been going smoothly tonight so far, one of the tamer nights I have had this week. I look up at the clock to see it’s 45-minutes away from closing, better get to the closing duties so I am out of here by 10:00pm. I grab a cloth from the bleach bucket & start wiping down the counters. As I mindlessly perform the routine of tasks I have done 100x’s before, I hear my phone ping in my pocket. Was not often I got notifications this late at night. I look around to see if my manager is nearby before pulling my phone from my pocket & giving it  a glance. ‘Your Order has been received & processed by GamingRUs. Shipping details to follow’ it read. I felt a pang of guilt in my chest as I was reminded of the conversation Vi & I had earlier today. 

Without warning, I am bumped into by the other bartender who was carrying a tray full of glasses. Thankfully, none were dropped. “Whoa, sorry Cain, I was looking at the glasses when I should have been watching where I was going!” Brittany says as she passes me by & towards the kitchen area, but not before noticing the look on my face. She stops “You alright?” she asked & I shrug, “It’s complicated.” I say trying to keep it short. But Brittany was the type to really get involved & shove her nose in where it isn’t wanted. “Oooo girl trouble?” She was not too far off with that guess. “Something like that…” I answer before trying to turn away. Quicker than she looks, Brittany rushes to block my path “Maybe I can help! I am really good at giving advice.” She offers & I just stare at her, contemplating my next move. What did I have to lose by at least getting her opinion on it? “Alright” I say, relenting. 

I tell Brittany everything, I even hand her my phone to look at the texts that went between Vi & I. “So? What do you think? Do you think I crossed a line or do you think she’s overreacting?” At this point, a busser named Huan had joined the conversation & had been listening intently to my story along with Brittany. Huan and Brittany look at each other after having passed the phone back & forth. “You’re definitely the asshole here, Cain.” Birttany says, handing my phone back to me. 

“Really? I thought I was giving her a compliment, you know? She surprised me with how smart she was during Trivia Night. So, I called her smart. How is that bad?” I was dumbfounded over Brittany’s answer. I looked to Huan for his opinion and he nods, “Let me take this one Brit.” Huan says with a hand on her shoulder, leaning in towards me “Look Cain, you had good intentions, that’s obvious because this is bothering you. What you need to understand though, is that your assumption of Vi’s intelligence comes from a place of outdated, racist beliefs.” I felt the piercing of that word shoot through my chest “Racist?” I asked “I don’t hate Vi because she is a giant or anything, I don’t hate Vi at all!” Huan shakes his head “Racism is not just hatred, it can manifest in different ways. This time, you assumed that because she was giant, that she would be dumb or less intelligent. So the surprise was because she didn’t fit the stereotype you categorize her into, not because she was smart & won you guys the game.” I sat, trying to understand exactly what he was saying. “But I would have been surprised over anyone being able to answer the questions that she did, not just her.” Huan crosses his arms “You said it yourself that you didn’t know there were giants who liked school, right? Whether you’re ready to admit it or not Cain, that was a racist remark. Being a giant doesn’t mean you dislike school or any type of education. Giants are not inherently dumb, just how Asian people are not inherently good at math or devoted to their academics. Personally, I prefer reading & I love watching documentaries about obscure topics that are unrelated to direct academics. I didn’t pop out of the womb with a fucking calculator.” 

Brittany snickers at Huan’s joke and looks to me. “He’s right Cain. I know you didn’t mean to, but you messed up here.” I sigh and rub my temples, finally realizing why what I said was so wrong & why it got such a reaction out of Vi. “I wasn’t raised around giants…” I admit & Huan scoffs “No shit.” he says rolling his eyes with a smirk. “So how do I make it up to her? I need her on my team next time Don hosts Trivia Night. There was no way I would have ever gotten the question ‘wHaT dOEs DNA sTaND fOr? Without Vi’s help.” Brittany places her hand on Huan’s shoulder “I got this one. My boyfriend has pissed me off & made up for it more times than I can count.” Cain felt a redness creeping up across his cheeks at the mention of boyfriend/girlfriend relationships. “We’re not an item, Brit, we’re just Unit Partners…” I try correcting her and she waves me off. “A woman scorned in any language, any race or relationship is all going to look the same, regardless of the situation. What you need to do is make it up to her. Buy her dinner, bring her flowers, sing her a song.” Brittany suggests but I couldn’t help but feel put off by all those suggestions “Those all seem really…intimate..” I look at Huan who snorts with a laugh at Brittany’s suggestions. “Have you tried apologizing?” He asks with a ‘isn’t-it-obvious’ tone of voice & a raised eyebrow. “Yes, of course I have!” I respond defensively, getting frustrated as no one’s suggestions are helping. “When?” Brittany asks. “You read the texts, I said it there.” I hand her my phone back, which still has our conversation pulled up. Brittany looks over it again with Huan sharing the screen too. “No, you didn’t” Brittany says handing me my phone a second time. “I told her that I didn’t mean to underestimate her, I told her it wouldn’t happen again.” I confirm but Huan pipes up “That is not an apology my dude. That is acknowledging you messed up, but you didn’t atone for it.” Brittany nods, pointing to Huan “He’s right, that’s not an apology.” I re-read my texts to Vi and I can see what they’re saying. “So I’ll text her that I am sorry, then.” I say positioning my phone in my hand to start typing. Brittany puts her perfectly manicured hand over my screen “You need to do this in person for it to mean something. You insulted her in person, you need to apologize in person.” That was the last thing I wanted to hear.

*************************************************************************************************************

I heard the obnoxious buzzing of Cain’s apartment door, requesting entry into my apartment when I was stepping out of the shower. I checked my phone quickly, to see if he texted me before he was at my door, hoping to get an idea of why he was here. No messages were on my phone, raising the question of what Cain wanted. With as much politeness as I could muster in that poorly timed moment, I yelled out of my bathroom door “GIVE ME A MINUTE!” As I rush to wrap my wet hair in a towel and tighten the fresh towel around my body. I walk down my hallway towards my living room, leaving behind little puddles of water, where I push the buzzer to let him in. 

I stand across the living room, watching the little door open, with Cain using his back to push his way through, carrying something in his hands. For the first couple of steps in, Cain’s back is to me as he starts shouting “Vi! I realize I messed up!” Not noticing that I am right behind him only a few steps away. Cain turns around, eyes looking at the flat square cardboard that seemed to resemble a pizza box, before meeting my gaze “I came to apolog-...” His sentence halts the moment he lays eyes on me standing on the other side of the living room. I watched his face & eyes open wide with surprise as he saw me standing there. After doing a quick up & down, his face grows noticeably red & he covers his eyes while turning away, struggling to hold the pizza box with one hand “Vi, I didn’t know this was a bad time, sh-sh-should I come back later?” He asks, embarrassed. “I’m in a towel, Cain.” I point out, not entirely sure what his deal was. The towel was not overly small, it covered me like a dress would, so it’s not like he could see anything. “Yea, you’re in a towel! Should I give you time to change o-or something?” I could tell he was not comfortable. “Would you like for me to change?” I asked him, wondering how the hell he handles seeing people at a public pool or beach showing so much skin if me being in a towel made him this uncomfortable. “It’s your apartment, you can do whatever you want!” He says nervously. “Alright. So what do you want?” I asked, realizing how cold that may have come out a bit too late. Cain’s eyes slowly peeked from behind his hand, as he lowered it to the pizza box once again and erected his posture. Clearing his throat & choking on it a little he tries to regain his momentum from earlier. 

“It’s been brought to my attention that I may have been insensitive to you & my comment about giants’ intelligence levels crossed a line.” I folded my arms “Mm hmm. And?” I asked, feeling the chill of the air conditioning crawling up my wet skin. Cain, distracted by whatever he was thinking to say next, finally said “So I wanted to apologize!” Holding up the pizza box to be above his head, showing me proudly what he’s brought, much like a cat would bring a mouse to its owner. “Vi, I did not grow up around giants. I don’t know what isn’t okay to say, how to act or what customs to follow. I am going to mess up a lot, but I don’t want to mess up so badly that I ruin the chance to have a friendly Unit Partner.” My heart softened as his plea, struck by the honesty he was showing me. I offer a smile “Well, it’s not the worst thing I have had a human say to me. So I think it’s a forgivable sin.” I say giving him the closure he came for. I start eyeing the tiny box with curiosity “..You brought a pizza?” The pizza itself was no larger than your average cracker to me. Cain smiled back at me “Yes! But…I see that maybe it was not as grand of a gesture as I had hoped it would be…” He says holding it up for me to take. “Might be a bit small…not really filling for you…but they wouldn’t let me buy a giant pizza. So I had hoped this would be enough…” I walked up to him, watching his eyes follow where my footsteps were landing & his face grew from pale, to pink to full blown tomato red again. I crouch down, keeping my legs together, to avoid flashing Cain. His eyes steered away from my toweled body as he held out the pizza. I gingerly took it from him, using my nail to open the box to see a pepperoni pizza with 2 slices missing. “You ate some of it?” I asked as Cain laughed nervously, “Yea well I figured we would be able to share a giant pizza, but when I was denied that option, I did the next best thing & figured we would share a regular sized pizza, like normal roommates do. I also did not have any other plans for lunch…and I was hungry” I rolled my eyes with a smile “The peace offering is appreciated, thank you.” Cain looks up to me, happy his apology was accepted. He watched as I slid the whole pizza from the box, into my mouth in a single bite, which was about all the pizza was. But for what it was worth, the pie was deliciously cheesy & saucy. I barely had to chew it before swallowing, crumpling the cardboard box in my hand to toss away later. 

Cain watched my fist close on the flimsy cardboard box with a crooked smile. “I appreciate you stopping by & apologizing.” I say, watching Cain rub his neck & return his eyes to mine. “Thank you for at least hearing me out & not hating me over this. I’ll uh- get out of your hair..” He says making his exit as politely as I am sure he could manage at the time. As he exited his door, I call to him “Cain!” He flinches, then freezes, turning around wondering what it was I wanted “Next time, I will have you for lunch. We’ll figure out a place that caters to Giants and Humans, okay? My treat.” As if he was holding his last breath, he exhales dramatically while wiping his forehead of whatever sweat had built up on it. “Yes, That should be just fine! Ha, thanks!” He says, slipping into his door & out of sight. 

*************************************************************************************************************

As I closed the door behind me, my body lost all strength it had and I collapsed against the door, my heart racing like I just finished running a marathon. “What the fuck just happened?” Cain thought loudly, running fingers through his hair. He reassured himself that Vi’s comment of “Having him for lunch” was not a promise that Vi was going to eat him, rather she invited him to have lunch with her next time. The miniature heart attack brought on by her words began to subside as Cain recalls seeing Vi, all 85ft of her, damn near soaking wet in a thin towel, leaving very little to the imagination. He recalls his feeling of shock as his eyes trailed up, up, up her long legs to her face. Cain feels a warm feeling in his cheeks that slowly crept to his pants as he felt them tighten slightly. Those legs…strong, sensual and soft looking. He wondered to himself if her skin was as soft to the touch as it looked from his perspective. Nothing could have prepared him for the curvature of her body, though. Her hips were wide & the curves of her waist came in an almost perfect hourglass shape. Her arms & shoulders clearly reflected how she worked out & lifted weights, but her body kept the soft edges & supple shape he admired in other women. Her wet hair spilled out from the towel she had holding it up, still dripping. Cain recalls following the drips as they landed on her shoulder and gravity pulled them between her…”-STOP!” Cain yelled at himself, covering his mouth, fearing he was too loud just now. 

This was wrong, Cain can’t think about Vi this way. She was his Unit Partner, nothing else. Were they even friends? Cain didn’t think so. He reminded himself that he was literally just apologizing for being racist towards her, so there is a lot that needs to happen for them to even call each other friends. Cain needed to keep in mind that getting too close to giants was still dangerous, even ones as..nice..as Vi. The image of Vi slipping the entire XL pizza into her mouth, hardly chewing before swallowing, followed by minimal effort to crush the pizza box, gave a chill up Cain’s spine he was not sure he liked. A stark reminder of just how different they were. Cain slapped his own face, lecturing to himself “Pull yourself together man, this is not happening! She is a giant, you’re just…” Cain pauses and notices his reflection, crumpled on the floor, in the full body mirror he keeps by the front door, staring back at him. He noted how pathetic & sorry looking he was in that moment. 

“...just Human..” Cain says with a defeated sigh.  Pushing himself off of the floor & walking to his gaming area, he makes an effort to push the image of Vi’s nearly naked body out of his mind as he picks up his controller to play some Halo. Taking a deep breath and thinking about his grandma and spiders to kill all warmth he was feeling in that moment as he logs into his gaming account.

Previous ||| Next

[roosterbruiser]

[ OH MY GOD ] for a hug in response to one muse learning that the other’s still alive.

If you write for Javy this as a Javy prompt, maybe after he gets home from the Uranium Mission?? Even though he didn't actually fly it he did almost die. And if you don't write for Javy then this prompt with Bob??

you heard every single bit of it.

Maverick's panic as he tried to snap Coyote out of it, Maverick's tone screaming through Coyote's jet, the automated voice desperately demanding that Coyote pull up.

and all you could do was stand there, right beside the comms, your feet firmly planted on the ground. there were a few fleeting moments where you were certain that the love of your life was going to die--burn in, crash into the side of a mountain, cease to exist because of a training exercise.

"Coyote," you muttered, eyes squeezed shut tight as you gripped the counter you were standing just before in the sun-drenched lounge. "c'mon. don't do this. don't leave me."

you still haven't decided if that's why he came out of G-LOC--you demanding it from the ground below, wishing fervently and desperately for him to be okay.

as soon as his tired are bouncing off the tarmac, you're racing towards him--protocol be damned. search and rescue has already been sent out for Bob and Phoenix and you know that they punched out in time. right now, all you have the wherewithal to worry about is Javy.

it's as if you have blinders on right now: no longer can you see the endless blue sky above you or the piercing rays of sun, the other jets being worked on down the tarmac, the paramedics racing towards Coyote. you can smell the jetfuel and feel the the hot pavement sticking to the underside of your boots, but nothing else matters when you see him.

he's climbing out of his jet carefully, helmet still on, and you can tell from your spot a few paces away from him that his hands are still shaking.

you beat all the paramedics there, your body practically carrying you to him without your mind having a say in the matter.

"Javy!"

it's the last thing he hears before you're colliding with him. his precious girlfriend, who he knows had to listen to him almost burned in, is wrapping his much larger body up in her arms. and god, if it doesn't feel good to be on the ground holding you right now.

this is real, he has to remind himself. he's alive and he's here and he's holding you.

he is immediately hugging you back, holding you against him like his life depends on it, punching all the air out of your lungs as your feet leave the ground.

"don't do that!" you're crying, shaking your head fervently. "don't ever do that again!"

it's silly, really, because you're a pilot, too. you know that, logically, he had no choice in the matter. no one does when they go into G-LOC. but the words still fall from your mouth anyway, as serious and desperate as ever before.

the paramedics are closing in on yours and Javy's reunion, preparing to give him a once-over before he's cleared to go home, but the two of you make no move to let go of each other.

"I won't," he promises. "I'm sorry, I won't. I'm here, okay?"

and Javy knows that, logically, he has no say in the matter either. but here, under the California sun after almost dying beneath it, stroking your hair as you hastily undo his helmet and shove it off his head, he knows that this promise is as much as he can do right now. even if it's as good as a sweet nothing--he'd say it, he'd promise it, a million times over for you.

you're grabbing his face now, tears wetting your cheeks, as you inspect his cheeks and forehead for cuts or bruises. and he's misty-eyed, too, watching the woman he loves come undone in this sweet almost-grief.

"I'm okay," he keeps saying, but you won't listen.

you check him as thoroughly as you can with tears heavy on your lashes, holding the back of his head and giving him the saltiest, the sweetest, of kisses.

"don't," you whisper brokenly against his mouth.

and he just nods, nose nuzzling yours. he gives you another kiss--can taste the tears on your tongue.

"I won't," he whispers.

and he means it--for you, he means it.

[maigo-san]

Zenitsu didn't hear sounds like most people with hearing sensitivity do. It was almost hallucinatory. But Zenitsu had always believed that everything had a soul in it. Or at least that was what everyone believed growing up. Even Grandpa thought it, and maybe there was some truth too if even demons exist.

Sometimes he wondered if it was the same way with demons' bodies. The way their arms swing or the scary claws that trickled crimson produced sounds that screeched and pierced his eardrums.

Being a bunch of helpless souls trapped along with a dead heart sounded... not fun at all. No wonder they bemoaned their fate every single time.

At some point, he got used to the noises to the point he could forget about them. Like how the sun would sing a shrilly tune that matched the cicadas but only the crunchy whir of September critters filled his mind.

Inosuke's blade sounded a bit different than Tanjirou's, probably due to the different ore. But it was also because Tanjirou didn't handle it like Inosuke did.

Still, the sound of the clipped wind when Tanjirou tried to reignite his muscle memories was a giveaway for Zenitsu to dodge, clashing back swiftly.

Tanjirou swiveled his hip and charged, cutting the air with speed a bit too early even for Zenitsu.

On reflex, Zenitsu yelped and shoved his sword to Tanjirou's left chest-there was a muffled ding!- and backed off as soon as he realized what he had done.

"Tanjirou!"

His sword slipped from his fingers and clattered as he ran to his friend, face paling. Despite Tanjirou's lack of reaction, he could hear the hiss of breath, like he was swearing internally.

Frankly, the thought of angry Tanjirou frightened Zenitsu even more.

"Oh my god, are you okay?! That must be painful!"

He crouched, whimpering at the torn fabric. What am I going to do?! I used up all my money for Nezuko-chan's flowers! his mind was irked at the thought of the glasses-wearing kakushi seamster who charged him ten yen for every button fix.

"I'm fine, Zenitsu..." Tanjirou gently chided, giving him a reassuring smile while patting his chest. Zenitsu heard Tanjirou's heart calm before he sighed in relief.

"I told you we should just use bamboo swords..." Zenitsu whined and frowned deeper when Tanjirou unbuttoned half of his top, slipping a finger out of the undershirt.

"Using our swords is too dangerous...!" and risky for my wallet!

"But I still need to occasionally train with a real sword, Zenitsu..." Tanjirou lifted Inosuke's handle in a controlled manner, muttering more to himself.

"It's just not the same weight and it keeps putting me off. I can't mess up my form when I'm just getting a hang of it."

Zenitsu couldn't argue with that. The curse of hearing things most people don't was that every learning process felt more complicated than it needed to be and most of the time, Zenitsu's brain was too overwhelmed to focus.

He didn't know if Tanjirou was just naturally diligent or had generally sharper senses with an exceptional nose, but he could be too intense for Zenitsu's liking. Still, Zenitsu was very familiar with someone who was finicky with their technique and constantly trying to improve.

Tanjirou spun Inosuke's sword with one hand, slotting it back into the sheath smoothly.

In the midst of Zenitsu's souring mood, he had to respect Tanjirou's rapid progress. Just this morning he heard Tanjirou giggling with the Butterfly girls about not managing to stretch flat out like before.

"I, uh... I can stitch that for you," Zenitsu glanced to the side.

No, he could not, but Zenitsu was not an asshole. Although deep within, he knew Tanjirou would take pity on him and said he'd do it himself, but Tanjirou didn't need to know that, hihi...

"Sorry..."

"I'll mend it, it's okay," Tanjirou said as the two crouched down next to their water bottles.

"The tsuba's not chipped. I'm glad."

Zenitsu mentally sighed in relief, not saying anything as he watched Tanjirou take out a flame-shaped tsuba.

It then occurred to Zenitsu what that ding noise was and he was glad he didn't prick Tanjirou's skin. Tanjirou seemed as pleasantly surprised, though he was never too worried about hurting himself or tearing his clothes.

One-track mind, that guy. He could hear Tanjirou's steadily beating heart grow its dense thumps.

"Wah..." Tanjirou sighed, "to think it's been years since this has been used, yet not a single scratch or dent," he mumbled in pure adoration.

His index finger glided along the spike-shaped yet blunt side, creating a low pleasant hum vibrating in the dry autumn breeze.

Zenitsu believed there was something special about Rengoku's sword, just like every part of him that seemed to exude eminence. But there were times he felt a sentiment that drew him closer to the Flame Hashira.

After all, he sounded very sweet.

A singular, serene tune similar to a masterful glide of the kokyuu's bow to its flimsy strings. A melody carrier in an ensemble.

Tanjirou was talking about how Rengoku-san must've paid for high-quality iron to last this long and that Kanamori-san said you could ask your swordsmith to upgrade the quality of your sword outside of damage-related issues, such as changing the tsuba design or adding additional detail, but they had to pay for it. All the while cradling the tsuba gingerly in his palms.

Throughout the time, Zenitsu tuned it out, wondering to himself.

Did he carry it everywhere now?

Does he plan to use it? He must be, right?

Won't he worry about damaging it?

But, Rengoku-san probably wanted it to still be useful.

He seemed like that type of person...

That thumping heart blurred to a low hum like Tanjirou was thrumming the bottom string of a koto, reminded Zenitsu of a melodic sob.

Zenitsu was no musician. He had played the shamisen before, knew how to his a taiko just right or shiver a suzu for that one time he helped a shrine near his orphanage so he could get more pocket money, but that was about it. He had no artistic desire or interest. An instrumentalist, he supposed.

"...Zenitsu?"

"That tsuba works like a charm," Zenitsu commented in a flat tone.

Tanjirou's brows twitched, opening his mouth. Zenitsu readied himself for the telling of how he still needed to work hard and that luck could only go so far...

But Zenitsu watched as Tanjirou's expression melted under the ambering sky. His eyes turned into crescents as he smiled wide, voice damp and hoarse.

"If you think about it..." Tanjirou's voice frayed and damped, "the tsuba saved me, huh?"

Zenitsu's heart tightened.

Tanjirou sniffled but only huffed a wet laugh, kicking the dirt under his zori lightly. "Heh, yeah, it's probably nothing."

Zenitsu pouted. I get it! he wanted to say.

I've made that voice before! he thought, remembering his past heartbreaks.

Zenitsu turned when he heard the tsuba's hum as Tanjirou clutched it to his chest as if to coo at his tone.

Zenitsu decided it was best to stay quiet.

If objects had souls, it must explain why Rengoku's tsuba managed to love Tanjirou back.

--

for RNTNVillage weekly prompt: haunted.

[toatytoastnice]

the monster mash paring kny x GNreader

there's too much warnings to put here so you'll just have to read to find them out so i got too lazy to do kinktober this year so i decided to somehow beg for your forgiveness and also end october with a bang to put together all the characters i can into a gaint kinky mess i introduce you to

the monster mash!

minors please for the last time leave now by clicking continue reading you are responsible for your actions!

tomioka giyuu: chocking. pairing demon giyuu x human reader

giyuu didn't know what it was about you maybe it was the fact he could snap your neck on accident without even trying it scares him but it excites him at the same time he's the former water hashira and now a member of the upper rank demons within the twelve kizuki your a demon slayer so why the hell are you two here now?

"fuckkkk your so tight this pussy is to die for..." he groans as he feels your blade press against his nape the tip piercing his skin which regenerates your supposed to be killing him not fucking him! yet here he is cock thrusting in and out of you as his hand wraps around your throat tearing the collar of your demon slayer uniform

he moans into your ear squeezing your throat a little more cutting off your breathing before loosening his grip again that blade is so annoying so without fail he reaches behind him and grips your blade snapping it in half and tossing it away letting your hand rest on his shoulder as he grabs both your legs foldoing you in half so he can reach even deeper at the same time he cuts your breath off completely letting you suffocate for a few seconds before restoring your breathing again "fuckkkk let me turn you into a demon yeah?...so i can cum in you for eternity."

tengen uzui: BDSM pairing pirate tengen x sacrifice reader

"look at you. such a good little prize for me huh?...can't believe a simple raid thereat would get me someone as adorable as you to me." the mighty pirate speaks up a hand tilting your head up to get a better look at you ever since the village found out the pirate that has been terrorizing everything had a kink for his prizes being tied up and all that stuff they've sent you to him so they won't be raided

arms tied behind your back ankles tied together and kimono pulled apart to reveal your cleavage not to mention that spider gag in your mouth keeping it open for him to admire "suma makio hinatsuru." he utters three names as three women appear at his sides all dressed provocatively as they lean against his throne

"i think our little guest here needs a lesson on how to suck me off properly right? can't take me in their throat without a little push~" makio smirks suma just smiles slightly and hinatsuru nods within a matter of seconds your looking right at tengens exposed cock it's too big for you to possibly take yet the spider gag keeps you from closing your mouth as you take his cock deep down your throat in one push

makio keeps pushing your head down leading you deeper and deeper suma holds your hair into a ponytail and hinatsuru toys with your clit while whispering instructions "gentle makio! your being too rough!" "shut up suma! how else will they take lord tengen fully!"

"oh my fuckinggg goddness that's right listen to hina'...breathe through your nose and focus let your throat loosen and allow me into that pretty little throat baby." you gag a little as his cock head finally touches your throats entrance and tengen gestures makio who pushes your head down fully "fuck...hinatsuru go get my vibrator."

rengoku kyojuro: cock warming paring zombie kyojuro x human reader

the flame haired zombie pushes a hand to cover your mouth to silence your moans sitting on his haunches as he watches other zombies pass by your trapped within a closet with him at first you expected to get a quickie in but now your stuck in this closet with kyojuro

cock still shoved deep up your pussy as he tries to keep you quiet so the other zombies don't hear you the amounts of pre-cum he's spilling inside you seems to help because you aren't being sniffed out by the others "shhh...quiet flamey...your gonna alert the zombies with your slutty moans...don't think i don't notice you trying to squirm your hips either"

he puts a hang around your moving hips to cease their movements as the groans of the zombies can be heard he lets out quiet moans into your ear as his cock hits your g-spot you wanna move your hips so badly but he won't let you! it's so annoying "flamey i need to tell you something" he moves his hand from your mouth slightly leaning back as you whimper from how his cock moves inside you "wh-what is it 'kyo?"

"the zombies already left."

shinazugawa sanemi: hatefucking pairing werewolf sanemi x human reader

"fuck your such a slut. do you whore yourself out to every monster that tackles you in the dead of night or am i the lucky one?" the beast speaks up behind you as the full moon shines brighter then any time of the year as his claws dig into the ground near the sides of your head listening to you moan so sluttily for him

"fuck i wouldn't be surpised seeing as how wet you got when i pounced on you nothing but a horny little thing. who hasn't been fucked good enough by anyone else so they seek out monster cock instead." "n-no! that isn't t-true!" he just smirks thrusting harder as his cock tip hits your g-spot causing you to cum all over his cock after so long of him teasing and edging you

"fuckfuckfuckfuckkkkk so now the slut speaks up?...say...you ever taken a knot before?"

iguro obanai: aprhodisiac pairing naga obanai x human reader

"that's right baby fuck that's right show me that pretty little neck. your the one who asked me to put my venom in you so you can take my cock at the same time right?" his fangs sink into the side of your neck pumping even more of that poison into your veins tail wrapping around you to keep you pressed against him tightly

your too dumb to even form words simply moaning and whining while he has his way with you forked tounge lapping at the bite marks all over your cute neck"fuck....your so tight around me baby i can't wait for you to be nice and full of my eggs oh you'll carry them so good little birdie won't you~ fuck i'm so close. your ready darling i promised to give you my eggs and i keep my word."

he thrusts into you one last time causing you to moan as he kisses your neck to help distract you from the feeling off one two three eggs taking place within your womb as he pats your swollen belly "there so good right?"

[little-elf-wanders]

Before he was Rook, he was Marsh, and before he was Marsh... well, it didn't matter, did it?

His opponent certainly didn't care, the battle axe was too deep in the cranium; any opinion buried under a cracked skull and ripped staining hide that was seeping red, a helmet that didn't do him any good.

"Tits, Marsh! That's disgusting!" Came the horrified yelp of his friend, Otto.

Marsh shoved his boot up onto the chest of the bandit, or raider, or whatever piss poor occupation had led this now-corpse into thinking mugging them on the road was a smart plan. It's like they never saw the horns anymore. He wiggled his battle axe to try to rip it free, but somehow he'd gotten it stuck. Too much force? Whatever, this was his favourite, he needed it back. There was a glint from his spiked silver piercings as the bridge of his nose bunched up on a crinkle. "Fuckin'. Make her look away." He shot at Otto in frustration. "This isn't gonna be pretty."

"None of that was pretty! Talking to me about pretty." Otto, his elven friend, turned to the girl who'd asked them for help. She was currently trembling a little ways back from them - stuck staring in wide eyed terror. So much blood. So many shards of bone. Her expression was hollowing, wailing without ever uttering a peep. He went to turn her away from the bloodbath that became of her quest, no doubt a sight that'd haunt her for awhile to come.

"How is this so easy for you, man?" Otto asked, glancing over his shoulder, hands holding the girls tightly to make sure she stayed turned away for the bile inducing crunching that came from Marsh trying to tug his axe free. "Aren't your people all about order or... something?"

"Do you even know anything about the Qun? My people sew the eyes and mouths of the Saarebaas, they collar them, leash them, and command them like dogs. Just for having magic, just for having the poor luck of being born with it. So maybe out here is less brutal in comparison." Finally, the blade came loose, along with the splatter of blood that he wasn't fast enough to dodge. It stained over his cheek as a reminder of the bloody path he'd chosen for himself. Still a choice, though, eh? The body slumped back with a thump into the sand, eased back by a light kick of his boot, and he turned to look at Otto.

"Don't look at me like that."

Otto had magic, and he could see that elf picturing the pain behind his words. His grimace was enough to make him mad. Because now that he was out... it was fucking mad, wasn't it? Nothing sounded normal anymore. "That... doesn't explain why you can kill a man and not even flinch." Not everyone was a merc or a cutthroat. Otto fancied himself something else. "You never did tell me much."

Marsh sighed, shoulders slumping. They weren't very hulking shoulders for a Qunari. He looked underfed, mostly. Scrawny. Though he did have some toning definitions that'd dissuade from the idea that he couldn't punch someone's lights out. The litter of bodies on the sand would back that up.

"Who were you... before... all this?" Otto pressed on.

"Not what you're probably thinking. I never once touched the Karataam. Or anything close. I just..." He dropped his gaze to the grim display of bodies. Whatever he said now wouldn't have been believable, huh? "It doesn't matter. Would you rather I let them take her?"

"No..."

"Then don't worry about it." Otto was a good guy, a gentle guy. There was no way to tell him that he could kill so easily because he was angry enough to do it, and that the people coming at him with their blades were likely just as angry at something else - a vicious, bloody cycle. Or that it was survival of the fittest.

Well. Almost. He had one weak spot. The gentle.

He stepped away from his mess, leaving them for the birds and other wildlife. His battle axe was hefted back up, where it rested on his shoulder on his approach to the woman. He didn't blame her for flinching when he crouched down so he could get in her line of vision, his eyes weren't the nicest to see. Especially after something like that. He never hid his thrill during the violence, the grin that he could never explain away. His eyes were another story, and certainly didn't help ease her nerves; they were vibrant gold against pitch black, demonic if you were religious and judgemental. Very sharp looking, built to appear like he was in a constant glare. The blood across his face, clothes and dripping from his axe probably didn't help. But he tried to soften those shitty eyes of his regardless, because he could see how terrified she was. "I won't let anyone hurt you, alright? Let me worry about the threats out here."

She turned to tuck into Otto's chest, a small nod and a whimper leaving her.

"Just stick to Otto, he's good one." He didn't linger near her long, or try to convince her any more than that. That was Otto's job. To be the face. He pushed up and puffed a breath, while looking out along the beach trail, "Right, we should continue. It's a big walk to this village of yours, and they're bound to have noticed you're gone by now. We should pick up the pace."

Otto sighed, and rubbed at her back, his head dipped to murmur soft words. Comforting. Everything he couldn't do, and like a charm, she was stepping back with a whole new determination in her eyes. She took to walking again, and he looked at him. "One of these days, I'll teach you how to talk to women."

"Don't bother." Marsh scoffed, "I can talk to them when I want."

"Can you!?" Otto dared a laugh and nudged him into a walk, just to brush off his arm that came away with some sticky red. "Maybe try it when you aren't covered in a man's fluids, hm?"

Marsh deadpanned, "Why'd you gotta say it like that?"

"My friend, since I've known you, you've been like a grubby stray with an aversion to your own appearance." Otto shook his head, "Affectionately, you'd do well to care. You're handsome under all that gore. You might even go far if you knew how to use it."

Often, he'd brush off these comments from Otto. He was a conman, after all. The elf who smiled so dashingly at his marks while he set them up for ruin. It was foolishly political with him, so his marks usually had grudges that meant more than a beating. Yet...

"How far? You're the businessman, tell me my worth." Curiosity nipped him.

Otto smirked, a sly, foxish smirk that almost had Marsh retracting everything he just asked. It was too late, though, he'd stepped into it, and now this silver-tongued rogue was going to let him know his long con. "How many Tal-Vashoth go out their way to actually change peoples opinions of them, hm? If you managed to command that, to defy certain preconceived notions? You'd be immortal, mate."

"...You're really dumb sometimes. You know there's plenty out there who defy this shit."

"Fuck off, I mean in the business sense, which frankly, is abysmal on your peoples end - no offense. The Qunari I've seen don't trade, and if they do it's to humour us or watch us, reading us for conversion or conquering. Meanwhile, Tal-Vashoth do it to survive. I've never once met one who actually likes the act like you do. You know the respect you'd get for doing and them knowing you fuckin' mean it? You know how many doors that'd open for you? To be actually trusted? You like finding things, and so far you've been perfect at it, but so far no one trusts you to be anything but a spy or hired muscle. Because you act it and look it."

Here he goes. Marsh would have droned him out like any other ramble he gave him, yet something in him was listening. Up until now, he'd been surviving. He'd use the excuse of trying to find himself but... He'd really just been hiding. Fuck, he thought. Otto was good at knowing what to say to crawl into his brain. Because now he had him thinking. And the more he thought, the more something stoked in his gut, a fire he couldn't quite put out.

Marsh hadn't left the Qun to hide. He'd left it to do something with himself.

"Alright, I'm listening. If by the end of this journey, you can teach me to somehow not scare the shit out of her any time she looks at me? I'll believe you and put in the effort."

Otto grinned, and clapped him on the back, "Oh, my friend, by the time I'm done with you... you'll be a shark."

"I prefer barracudas." He interjected.

"Huh?"

"Barracudas." Marsh side-eyed him. "Make me a barracuda instead, they're cooler and they are perfect at ambushes. Sharks are obviously just the oceans Qunari."

"...I'll make you a barracuda, then. Yes, yes."

Marsh's lips curled up, revealing those sharpened teeth, two rows of points meant for ripping and tearing.

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

the UK is dying from heatwaves atm and i keep on seeing loads of people on the street shirtless or in shorts and tank tops, etc, etc. it got me thinking.

a very hot day in hawkins, the suns out all week, and low and behold, eddie munson rocking up to school with a white tank top.

i’m going feral.

please do something with this.

OMG EDDIE IN A TANKTOP IS SOMETHING I DIDN'T KNOW I NEEDED

imagine if it's also a crop top, too. like he's gotta have that extra skin exposed to stay cool, right? he just shows up one day, wearing a white tank top with the bottom cut off (which he did that morning before school, because why the fuck not?). also, i've kinda adopted the headcanon that he has nipple piercings in canon, because we never saw his nips, so who's to say? they poke through the white tanktop, and he loves showing them off anyway, so there they are. protruding through the thin fabric of the shirt, on display for god and everyone.

and you're just foaming at the fucking mouth all day, every time you see him. the two of you never really associated with one another much--aside from the classes you shared and maybe an occasional "hello" and a smile in the hallway. you had a big crush on him, though, and your friends always told you that he felt the same. they would tell you of the quick glances he made at you, how he would stare at you in class instead of paying attention, how he was always blushing when you met his eyes and looked away. you always denied it, but it made you wonder whether or not they were onto something. you would always shrug it off, shoving it down inside for a possible later time.

but today, jesus goddamn christ. you're a whole new level of flustered. every time you see him, with his stomach showing, the faint traces of his happy trail visible above his pants, his nipple piercings showing through the shirt, his long hair flowing around him, doe eyes lighting up every time they see you? fuck. you really didn't stand one chance in hell. your best friend convinced you to just talk to him, to give it a shot, and you swallowed your pride and decided to do it. fuck it; how could you not, with him looking like something straight out of one of your many wet dreams?

long story short, it ends up going pretty well, to say the least. he takes you out behind the gym during lunch, and makes out with you pretty heavily back there. your hands up his shirt, playing with his nipple piercings as he moans into your mouth, his tongue running over the roof of it as he fists your hair. one of his hands delves under your skirt as you toy with his piercings, and then it's your turn to moan as his fingers dip into your panties. the feeling of his cool rings on your hot skin is too fucking good, and you shiver against him as you mewl.

he’s grinning when he breaks the kiss, both of you breathless as your head swims from what is happening. you’re both sweating a little from the outside heat, and also from the intensity of the kiss. then eddie is going back in for more before you can speak, his tongue touching yours before your lips do. he presses you against the wall with his body, grinding as you pinch one of his pierced nipples. you can feel his cock, rock hard and straining against his jeans, rubbing against you, and you reach down to palm him. it goes on like that for awhile--hands wandering, tongues pressing against each other, sighs & moans passing between you…and then the bell is ringing.

you whimper when eddie pulls away, missing the weight of his body on your own. he winks at you, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it as he meets your eyes. he pulls you to his body, kissing you chastely before nuzzling his nose to yours, while his hands settle on your lower back.

"meet me at my van after school," he whispers. "we'll go to my trailer and pick up where we left off."

[milkywaybottles]

The Way Things Were | Tommy Shelby x Reader

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: I'm so sorry these have been taking so long to come out. I'm gonna be fully honest when I say that sometimes I simply get burnt out, and there are other things in demand first, such as my requests. I am trying my best :')

Much love xx

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Chapter 9: Wounds Cut Deep

You had been the only person to see Ada in a week, and even then, she was hesitant about your visits. She could use excuses to avoid Polly, Polly was directly a part of her family which caused her suffering, but she needed your help managing a newborn child. Her pride was strong, but her desperation was stronger. When your eyes landed on her, it was easy to see how exhausted she truly was. Her hair was scrambled, dark and heavy bags under her eyes, dressed in robes while holding Karl. As soon as you entered the room, your ears were filled with the sound of his screams.

"You've changed his nappy?" you questioned, holding out your arms and offering to take him. Ada shifted, presenting the baby to you.

"And fed him. I don't know what he wants" she admitted tiredly, passing you Karl. You took him ever so gently, hands barely moving at his light weight. Within a split moment, his mouth snapped shut and he watched you with his orb-like eyes. Ada tilted her head in surprise and squeezed her eyes shut, a smile making its way onto her face.

"Maybe he's just lonely" you mused, planting your finger to Karl's nose, knowing neither of them could go on like this any longer.

Her eyes flickered up at you with ferocity, tossing the burping cloths rather aggressively on one of the wicker chairs. She raised her hand and brushed you off quickly. It became clear that these wounds would not heal quickly. "Don't start with me. You choose to associate with the people who put me here"

You thought, wondering if you should reply or simply leave it alone. "Ada, he's your brother. He told me he didn't do it-"

"Oh! And you just believe him?" She snapped, crossing her arms across her chest. You reeled at her tone. "God, he's got you wrapped around his finger. You pretend to know him so well but can you really trust anything he says?". Your mouth was overcome with a bitter flavour, knitting your brows at her claims.

Karl suddenly burst into an ear-piercing cry as the rocking motion of your arms ceased. Your friend scowled, though her weary eyes remain planted on her baby. You shook your head slowly in indescribable disappointment, passing her the baby.

"I'm just going to leave you be. Enjoy the bread and milk"

Within a split moment, you had disappeared out the door with your belongings shoved tightly under your arm. The problem remained as you paced down the street.

What if she had a point?

-

"So?" the begrudging voice quizzed.

You huffed rather amusedly, a cloud of smoke spilling from your lips when bringing the cigarette down to your side. His head perked in curiosity, eyes flickering over your body, examining every inch of it with ferocity. He wasn't one to express his feelings verbally, but you could tell just by the way his body twitched that he was eager for a response.

"She's pissed, Tommy, what else?". Tommy manoeuvred towards you, pressing the arm of his tailored coat to the bar bench. You spied Grace's eyes shift over you both from the corner of your eye, focusing her head on the floor. Your lips cocked a half-smile, taking another puff. You had an irking feeling that woman was like a gossiping hen, clucking around for her next dig.

It didn't take Tommy long to notice your uneasiness to divulge family matters in front of the barmaid. So, he sighed and brought his finger up, curling it in a manner that suggested you come closer. Your cheeks flushed a rosy red as your body edged mindlessly towards him.

Grace's hands scrunched into the worn fabric of her dress.

In an instant, his lips were against your ear, steamy breath raking across your cheek. The smell of aftershave consumed your senses, causing the hairs on your nape to rise. "And what am I supposed to do about that, love, eh?"

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that.

You pulled back hesitantly, “Well, there are two things you can tell her. You can tell her whatever the truth is, or you could lie”.

Seemingly unsatisfied with your provided solution, he took a swig of whiskey and turned back to the bar. A headache pulsed through your skull, prompting you to bring your hand to your head and pinch your temple for relief. Then, you brought the glass of amber liquid to your parted lips, relishing in the dull burn of the alcohol as it flowed into your throat.

He took another sip of his drink, cigarette hanging from his fingers.

You sighed.

The echo of footsteps bounced off the floor, causing your ears to perk up at the sound as they neared closer. A man was clad in a muddy-coloured suit, ears sticking out from his head. He wore a serious expression, not removing his eyes from Tommy.

His accent was as clear as day, "Mr Shelby?"

There had been an influx of Irishmen in Birmingham as of late, provoking your suspicions. Between the Communists and the IRA, nobody could catch a break.

"Who's asking?"A typical Tommy Shelby response. He didn't spare the man a glance in his direction, taking a drag and exhaling.

"My name is Byrne. I had word from your man in Camden Town you wanted to parley". You observed the pair with a stiff and unreadable expression. Byrne's eyes drifted from Tommy to you, then again in the opposite fashion. You could tell he was making many loose assumptions based on you. Your social status, your appearance, your demeanour, and even your drink were all factors he quickly took into consideration.

Let him make all the assumptions, you thought.

"Then parley it is"

Byrne paused before speaking again, "A few months ago, a man named Ryan came to this place with a view to buying some goods from you. Mr Ryan met with an accident. He was shot"

Tommy only nodded, "I heard"

He had done more than 'hear', you knew that for certain.

"He was a man with a quick mouth. I know that" he sucked his teeth inwards, outwardly gesturing with a flick of his head to the clientele of the Garrison, "I'm wondering if he made any enemies in here"

"None that I know of"

Byrne lent forward and smiled, baring his yellowing teeth, "It's not the kind of place to make enemies"

Tommy laughed exasperatedly, "All are welcome here, Mr Byrne". It was more of a false laugh, the kind someone would express in order to seem polite, even if both parties knew it was merely small talk.

"Including Irish?" he shot back.

"Oh, especially the Irish"

"Ryan told you he was a member of the Irish Republican Army. Was he still welcome?". While clear before, it became crystal that the man only had malicious intentions. It was as if a dark cloud hung over him, threatening to spill rain at any second.

Tommy put down his cigarette, shaking his head only to reaffirm his previous statement, "Like I said, any man... or lady that buys a beer is welcome". His avoidant style made perfect sense to you. There were no flies on Tommy, he knew not to antagonise nor make a scene if not necessary.

"Perhaps you didn't believe him" he continued.

Tommy's eyes darkened, and from under the bench, you watched as his fists curled before turning to the man in annoyance. His jaw was clenched, eyes crinkling as he made a face. "In pubs, sometimes people say things, sometimes it's the whiskey talkin'. It's hard to tell which is which"

Byrne was not fooled by this excuse, "As a teetotal man, I find that amusing. Except when it ends in tragedy"

From his demeanour, you had a feeling you were no longer meant to be listening in on this conversation. Was it going to stop you? Of course not, but you needed to make sure you were subtle. You moved your attention away from the two, lifting your right ear to them nonchalantly. In the process, your heel almost slipped from the bottom of the bar stool, your face paling.

Luckily, there was no reaction from the two.

"Would you like some water and cordial, Mr Byrne?". You remained impressed at Tommy's cool composure, eyebrow arching in inquiry.

"You see Mr Shelby, Ryan, for all his quick mouth, was indeed connected. Very well connected to our brotherhood. By membership and blood... He was my cousin. I am from South Armagh. I'm a man of influence there. Cordial and water would be grand, Mr Shelby"

"Grace, bring some cordial and water to the snug"

"Yes, Mr Shelby"

Grace lept from the seat she had taken, and in an instant, she was making her pretty little way over to the family snug with a jar and glasses wedged in her hands. The two retreated into the comfort of the snug, harshly ending your interference. Your shoulders slumped in disappointment, your finger running against the rim of your glass.

Tommy Shelby knew you too well.

He would have known exactly what you were doing and you were sure to receive a lecture about it after.

The clock taunted you, each minute ticking by. You drummed your fingers against the bench, waiting for any sign of movement within the snug. It seemed to go on for hours, a thickness hanging in the air. The Garrison had quietened, not too the full extent but enough for the regulars to understand that something was going on. Not a single customer had come or gone.

The lazy afternoon was stretching on.

You yawned, finally feeling the waves of dizziness come over you. The coat that was settled on your shoulders provided just enough warmth to possibly send you into hibernation. Grace shot you a thin lipped smile and scrubbed down the bar with a rag.

Eventually, your daze was broken by the slamming of a door. Byrne emerged but gave you no time to spectate before vacating the building. Your head snapped towards the snug door with urgency. As your gaze met Tommy’s, you couldn’t help but throw him a grin,

“What? I like to know what goes on around here”

His look was the same as a father would give their misbehaving child, but it quickly softened as he pushed his whiskey glass forward on the bench. Grace skipped over and plucked it before it had a chance to collect dust.

“You always have, love. The army should consider recruiting you as a spy next time”

This statement was followed by the unsettled clanging of glasses. Your head shot to Grace who suddenly looked rattled, eyes wide as saucers for a moment before she composed herself. Tommy didn’t seem to give her much notice.

Your eyes narrowed as she refused to make eye contact, leaning your head to the palm of your hand in thought.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───