#one punch man wallpaper

[insiderzx]

Saitama (wallpaper)

[everth1ne]

manga glow - wallpapers

Only for personal use 😊

Don't repost ❌

Don't remove the watermark ❌

[chipsboo]

One Punch Man ‘wallpapers’ 💦 (part 4/?)

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like/reblog if u save

Saitama and Genos

Portrait: <3

[asolivera]

VISIT MY TWITTER;

twitter.com/ASOlivera

[sw33t-as-h3ll]

GAROU IS A GOD LEVEL THREAT.... TO MY OUR HEARTS.

[streetwriter]

Wallpaper outfit chibi cool boy

Wallpaper anime chibi naruto

Wallpaper anime chibi one punch man

[prplocks]

♡☆♡ one punch man wallpaper pc

reblog if you save ▪︎

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[sunshineting]

[aniaarts12]

Random picture to post 😮‍💨

[yovrnewromantic]

CULT OF DIONYSUS

billy loomis x reader x stu macher

Let’s get mischievous and polyamorous!

Or in which Stu Macher really wants to fuck Billy Loomis’ girlfriend, and he doesn’t feel the same

warnings: talk of smut but no real smut. billy and stu lowkey hate each other.

Dipshit: guess whos alone w your gf😊

               meeee 😩🍆💦

Billy’s phone pings in his back pocket. Frustratedly, he maneuvers the bagged groceries in his hand. Reaching to grab his phone, he expects a text from you, asking him to grab something you had forgotten to put on the list or a needy i love you text.

Instead, he frowns at the message on his homescreen. The IMS shadow covers one of his faces on the stack of black and white polaroids of you and him on his wallpaper. Quickly, he slides his phone open, typing furiously. 

What the fuck do you mean

Dipshit: 🤷🏼‍♂️

Stu.

Dipshit: srry gtg busy

“Shit,” Billy hisses, forcing a hand through his hair. It was no secret that Stu wanted to fuck you. Stu had practically begged him to just let him watch him fuck you— in person or on video—and he got on his knees attempting to somehow sway Billy to let him cuck you. 

Yeah, not going to happen.

The drive to your shared apartment feels agonizingly slow, an unrelenting doom gnawing in the back of Billy's mind. His knuckles turn white from their tight hold of the steering wheel.

Tires skirt as he swerves into the parking lot, heart racing much more than he would like to admit when he takes the keys out of the admission, front wheels diagonal on the yellow lines they're meant to be inside of.

His pulse is in his ears when he reaches the door, hands clumsy for the keys before he realizes the door isn't even locked. The acknowledgment sends a new sense of dread down his spine because ever since Woodsboro, you listened to him, and you always locked the doors.

With half the mind to grab the knife that he buried it in the potted plant in the hall to castrate Stu-- if he was even there and didn't just want Billy to kill him in his sleep.

The door creaks open deathly slow. Billy's boots are loud against the wooden floors as he steps inside, listening intently. His eyes are frantic, dancing to any open space for your presence. He doesn't see you.

"Y/N?" he calls, his voice steady despite his panic.

It's quiet.

What position does he have you in now? Tied up and gagged so you can't make a sound as Stu pounds into you. Billy swallows his own bile, hardly convinced to continue his search downstairs before heading to your bedroom. If he can get to the kitchen, he can grab a butcher knife and go Michael Myers on that motherfucker.

"Boo!"

He's genuinely startled when he turns the corner into the kitchen, taking a step back and staring at your beaming form with wide eyes. Standing in front of him, perfectly clothed may he add, you cackle, your entire body shaking as you struggle to point a finger at him, too consumed with pure unaltered joy. "I--" you wheeze. "I scared you. Finally, I actually did it."

Despite the small part of him that's a teensy bit pissed (any other day he's punching a wall) that you finally got the best of him, Billy smiles, hands seizing your waist to pull you into his chest so he can hold you after the stress of a lifetime. Your fingers slide across the back of his neck, and it feels like a glimpse of heaven: having you, his girl, and his girl only in his arms, grinning ear to ear.

His fingers find your chin and he makes you look into his eyes. "You got lucky, babe."

While you divulge into another laughing feet, burying your face in his neck, Billy closes his eyes in bliss, savoring the moment as he hugs you. Your bodies fit together like perfect puzzle pieces. You're okay. You're safe. You're his. Billy opens his eyes, sighing quietly. And Stu is nowhere in sight--

What the fuck.

Elbows propped onto the granite island; Stu is smirking like a dead man.

Arms locked around you, Billy stiffens. You pull back, and to your boyfriend's displeasure, out of his arms.

The kitchen is covered in white flour like winter had come early and a blizzard swept inside your windows. Stu's sweater is coated in the flour as well and now that he thinks of it, he can see the powder on your cheek.

"We tried to make cookies," you explain joyously, taking a half-glance between him and Stu. The latter saunters towards you and Billy smugly. "Stu's not very patient."

"Not at all," he purrs, throwing an arm over your shoulder at tugging you into him. You laugh, oblivious to the heated exchange that was happening just above your head.

Billy was going to kill Stu if he kept looking at you like that, his eyes flickering between Billy and peeping down your shirt. Goodbye to their sequel.

You break him from his reverie. "Billy, baby, where's the groceries?"

"Yeah, man. Where are they?" Stu tilts his head.

"In the car," he deadpans although he forgot about them in the first place, abandoning them accidentally. He grabs your wrist, tugging you away from Stu's grip, fuming. "Let's go get them."

THIS IS SO BAD. will def rewrite but seeing this in my drafts was giving me a headache

[earthtooz]

ik ur in ur reo phase BUT HEAR ME OUT EARTH ONLY YOU CAN DO THIS

rin ACCIDENTALLY publicizing ur relationship bec mf got jealous as hell when ur face appeared in the kiss cam IN HIS GAME??????? WITH A RANDOM GUY AND WAS HE FUMING??? YOU AND I KNOW HE WAS THROWIN HANDS

thats all

I'M HEARING YOU OUT. warning for unrealistic scenario, i wrote this in like 20 minutes so it's unedited :p apologies for any mistakes.

imagine being rin's secret partner, the one he keeps behind closed doors because he values you too much to let the invasive eyes of the internet see. he values your relationship too much to let it get tarnished by social media, so he hides any affiliation with you like his life depends on it, only to come home and shower you with the adoration and affection he wishes he could show to the rest of the world.

in the spotlight, he is itoshi rin, japan's prized striker, their golden player, but when he's out of the spotlight, he is your lover. the man who drapes himself over you when things get too rough and he needs a breather. he is yours to cherish, where you have to change your phone wallpaper every other week because there's so many good photos of you two. he is yours to love, he is yours to go to when you feel too lonely, he is yours.

but also imagine, itoshi rin's jealousy and possessiveness no longer being able to rest at bay. it'd been accumulating for the past few weeks, this desire to show you off and boast that it's him who gets to know you like no other.

then the cup overfills, his jealousy tearing him by the seams that he loosely stitched together to withhold this carnal beast resting within him.

all because of a damn kiss cam.

you had been sitting in the vip section of the stadium- where special members are granted tickets, and even though you tell rin that it's fine for you to just sit in the general area, he refuses and tells you that he's bought you the ticket anyway. leaving you with no room for arguments. well. not that there was any to begin with.

anyways, you'd just so happen to sit next to someone who bought vip tickets with no affiliation with any blue lock members. you think he's just a die hard fan, so when he asks you if you like them, you lie and say that you won these tickets at a raffle.

the guy wasn't the most favourable person ever, in fact, you found yourself awkwardly responding to what he was saying, sometimes giving him short and succinct replies because of how... weird... he was. not to be disrespectful but you did not like his vibes. you just hope these 90 minutes can be over quickly.

yeah well, how funny is it that the kiss cam lands on you and the insufferable guy beside you?

you're mortified when you see it on the screen but the person beside you doesn't warrant the same reaction. immediately, he turns to face you, anticipation heavy on his features. in fact, he looks rather... excited...

"no, no, i have a boyfriend, i-" you begin abruptly as he leans in and you have no choice but to helplessly lean back, evading his lips and delaying it as much as you can. you even try rejecting him by frantically waving your hands, panicked and unsure of what to do.

until you hear him.

"back. the. fuck. off!" comes a shout from the pitch; the voice very familiar to your ears that you can't help but instantly relax from hearing it.

your seat was relatively close to the field which meant that those around you could hear the distinct voice of itoshi rin ripping through the air, fury evident and baring its fangs as he all but punches the barrier with each word.

however, everyone in the stadium could see itoshi rin as all cameras pan to him, witnessing his wrath as he shouts from the top of his voice. everyone around you is silent and you don't know whether you want to shrivel up into the ground or run to him and embrace him as tightly as you can. to find sanctuary in his warmth, away from the pushy guy who can't wrap his head around the idea that no means no.

itoshi rin decides for you, effortlessly jumping over the (considerably high???) barrier and making a beeline for you, skipping some stairs. thank goodness for a side seat because he comes to a stop before you, adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he looks at you with heated passion, huffing and puffing.

"rin?" you whisper. he doesn't hear it, looking up at the various stadium screens to see if the kiss cams were still on you. smirking in satisfaction when he realises they are, rin all but pulls you up from your seat and kisses you with so much intensity and fervour that you feel lightheaded. very much so.

the stadium is cheering but you can't focus on it, not when rin's holding you to him so closely, practically trying to meld you to him. not even trying to push him away is enough to snap him out of whatever primal instinct has taken over him, so you grab his face and jerk away from him, not wanting to get too carried away.

before you can utter a word, rin looks behind you, and the coldness in his expression says everything you need to know.

he doesn’t care about dignity at this point. he just needed the world to know that you were his.

"you're dead if you try that again, you lukewarm fuckface," he then turns to you. you shiver from the intensity of his gaze. "i'll kill him next time," he promises before hugging you close to him once again, practically glaring at the cameras. "i'll kill anyone who tries to get to close."

THANK YOU FOR THIS ANON would u believe me if i said i'd been waiting for an opportunity like this? well i'm speaking the truth and i'm so glad u gave me the opportunity i've been waiting for AYEEEEEEE COME BACK ANY TIME YOU ARE SO WELCOME ON THE EARTHTOOZ BLOG, PRETTY <33

—

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[zalayni]

🌆 LOVE U 3000┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ pairing: earth 42!miles morales x reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: your life is always interesting now that you're dating the one and only miles morales.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ author's note: the discord server for atsv fans between 13-16 is still open so hmu if you wanna join 😝😝

he cups his hand under your mouth whenever he feeds you food so it won't fall on your clothes.

“here Mami try this” miles cupped his hand under her chin and gently blew in the soup that he had in a spoon so it wouldn't burn your mouth.

your his shadowboxing victim whenever his friends aren't around

he doesn't mind being his nerdy self around you

miles punched the air and faked dodge a nonexistent punch before turning towards you as you sat on his bed with your phone in your hand. “do you think I can defeat batman?” you rolled your eyes and chuckled at him. “Miles he's like twice your size.”

you two obviously play fight for fun. he never once hurt you for real

he gets too lazy to type out his messages sometimes so he resorts into sending you voicenotes instead

deadly ass side eye whenever you jokingly insult him

“that purple hoodie you have on makes you look like grimace” you said with a hand on your mouth to stop the laughter that was about to burst out of her. Miles stopped in his tracks slowly turning his eyes towards you, side eyeing your laughing figure. “you play too much.”

he has the receipt tucked into his wallet from your guy's first date which was at the arcade.

has his lockscreen and wallpaper saved as a picture of you two. he changes it atleast once a month because he adores taking pictures of you.

a bright flash disturbed you from doing your skin care routine. you turned your vanity chair towards the source only to find Miles smiling down at his phone. “did you just take a picture of me?” “um maybe."

you two love to post eachother on your instagrams

bro does not know how to swim 😭😭 if you're able to swim then he'll ask you to teach him but if you can't that still won't stop the two of you from going swimming especially when it's summer

stares at you whenever you're doing your makeup, hair, or even your skincare.

“Morales you're staring.” you joked seeing him stare at you from the corner of your eye. this made Miles scoff “so what?”

he wears a chain with your initial as the pendant and he wears matching bracelets with you.

whenever he sleeps with a bonnet on he wakes up with the end of it hiding one of his eyes.

“what are you laughing at?” he croaked still obviously half asleep. “did you turn emo miles?” you asked before pointing at his bonnet that slipped down, hiding his left eye.

really wanted to get his ears pierced and when he finally got them he was squeezing the blood out of your hands once they held the needle against his hear

you winced at how tight Miles's grip on your hand got. You saw him shut his eyes tightly when the needle went through making the hole for the piercing. Once it was all done he looked down at your hand noticing how red it is which made him laugh. “sorry Mami.”

“five more minutes” warrior. that man refuses to get up early even if you two need to be somewhere on time.

he has a habit of turning towards you with the "did you just see that?" look whenever he sees someone doing something embarrassing.

he'll ask you to come over just so you two can bake together. his mom thinks the two of you are adorable

he has a PC set up with a his gaming chair and right next to it is your set up and chair that he had bought so you two can play together

“do you like it?" Miles said while uncovering your eyes to show you his hard work on setting everything up. the whole setup was based on your favorite colors. “how much did this cost?” you asked making Miles shut you up with a kiss. “don't even worry about it.”

you two danced in the rain once thinking it was a good idea but the both of you ended up sick afterwards

he gifts you a promise ring since you two are too young to get married just yet

has a habit of turning his head so his lips could reach your hand whenever you cup his face

has a whole board filled with pictures of you two either from a polaroid or photobooths

over all gentleman towards you (and his mom ofc)

actually loves physical touch

you were standing up making yourself a sandwich for a late night snack until you felt someone snake their arms around your waist and rest their head against your shoulder. you didn't have to look over your shoulder to figure out who it was. “hey, you hungry?” miles hummed against your shoulder, tightening his grip on your waist. “yeah.”

when you two take the subway he has his arm wrapped around your waist while resting his hand on your hip as his free hand was holding onto one of the poles. he does this no creep comes your way and so you won't fall as the subway can be pretty rough at times.

pulls out his phone whenever you two aren't together in person.

“miss you :(”

“miles I literally just left like a couple minutes ago”

he knows whenever you feel down even if you don't say anything about it

“hermosa, look at me.” he lifted your chin with his hand making you stare up at him. “what's wrong? you're not your usual self.”

respects your boundaries and leaves you alone/drops the subject if you don't feel comfortable talking about it at the moment

“sorry, I just. I just don't wanna talk about it right now.” Miles smiled at you before kissing the top of your hand that he was holding. “it's okay mi niña hermosa, talk to me when you're ready."

[chipsboo]

One Punch Man ‘wallpapers’ 💦 (part 4/?)

.

like/reblog if u save

Saitama and Genos

Landscape: <3

[sw33t-as-h3ll]

KARMA - TAYLOR SWIFT (YES I AM A SWIFTIE LEAVE ME BE)

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (4)

Summary: A storm in Shelby Springs threatens to take away everything Terry loves.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 4,131

Part: 4 of 5

Warnings: Mentions of violence.

Chapters: One. Two. Three

The past was a funny thing. 

In an instant, all of the promise and joy of tomorrow could be snatched away, ruined by the sins of yesterday no matter how deep they were buried in the Earth. 

When Terry limped away from Shelby Springs just before the heat of Summer could settle into the air, he expected to be gone for good. He’d taken his bruises like a man and cut his losses, never to speak of the horror he’d experienced at the brink of death. Horrors that flashed through his mind as he sat with his back aching in a wooden chair at Summer McBride’s kitchen table. 

Soft humming by the stove kept him tethered to reality though the present conversation had long turned into background murmurs. Summer sat opposite him, smart tablet in hand, as she scrolled through documents and videos sorted in a digital folder labeled evidence. 

“They didn’t delete every video. The especially heinous ones, they kept on a separate drive for blackmail if they didn’t get what they wanted. Mike’s in here.” No answer. Terry maintained his focus on the wallpaper just past her head, not blinking. “D’you hear me, Terry? Terry?” 

Still no answer. Summer peeled her concerned gaze from his face and directed it toward Patrice as she started to step closer. Patrice offered her an apologetic smile and touched Terry’s back to rub slow, soothing circles. He stiffened at her touch before picking a new spot in the room for his undivided attention.

“TJ, if you don’t wanna see the video, we understand. Right, Summer?” 

Summer nodded though she disagreed. “Right. But, you gotta know they might show this one in court tomorrow. I’d rather you be prepared now.” 

“It’s your call. Say the word and we’ll stop right here.”  

Patrice punctuated her statement with a kiss atop Terry’s head before draping her arms over his shoulders. 

He sighed and reached across his body for her hand. “How bad is it?” 

Once again, Summer looked to Patrice for guidance. A nod gave her permission to tell the truth. 

“Not life threatenin’ but…pretty bad.” 

“Play it. I’ll tell you when to stop.” 

With trepidation, Summer pressed play on the video and slid the tablet across the table. 

Terry and Patrice watched the last known footage of Mike as he encountered officers Marston and Lann. What started as a traffic stop with Mike as the passenger devolved into a brutal beating. Each blow to his body felt like a gut punch to Terry as he watched, tears welling up in his waterline. 

“Oh my God,” Patrice whispered to herself. “Maybe we should stop right here.” 

Terry shook his head and clenched his jaw, his eyes never leaving the screen. “No. Let it finish.” 

Watching the beating in its entirety became his self-inflicted punishment. He should’ve been there to protect his baby cousin. The least he could do, in his mind, was experience a fraction of the pain Mike was subjected to, even if it made him sick to his stomach. 

The video ended abruptly with no resolution outside of Mike being cuffed and thrown in the back of a cruiser like a wild animal. Patrice gripped Terry a little tighter, nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck just as a tear slid down his cheek. Summer sat across the table with her head bowed in silent prayer. 

Sniffling and the rhythmic tick, tick, tick of a wall clock were the only sounds in the room, leaving space for shared grief among the unlikely group of vigilantes. 

After some time, Terry swiped at his face to rid himself of the evidence of his sadness and forced out his question in a hoarse voice. “So what’s next? What do I gotta do to make these motherfuckers pay?” 

“Just tell your story. The defense is gonna antagonize you. They’ll try to make you confused, get you turned around and caught up in a lie, but you can’t let ‘em. Edwin Carter’s on the prosecution and he owes me a favor so, he’ll handle your prep. He should be here soon if you’re feeling up to it.” 

Terry mulled over the thought of rigorous back and forth before looking to Patrice for her opinion. “What you think, Treece?” 

“I think that every one of these pieces of shit should rot in hell. If you wanna fight, let’s fight. But as soon as it’s too much, we’ll pack up the truck and go home. No explanation needed. Fuck ‘em. No offense, Summer.” 

“Understandable. None taken.” 

“Fuck ‘em,” he parroted, chuckling at the sound of his sweet girl cursing like a hardened criminal. He looked at Summer who waited expectantly for an answer as he slid the tablet back to her. “Tell me about Carter. You think he’s in this like we are?” 

“I know he is. He’s got a vested interest in seeing Burne and that whole department crumble. Been on his heels for years. This was just the right time to bring the hammer down. He’ll take care of you.” 

“Then we’ll take care of him,” Patrice interjected. “You think he’d be down for a hot meal?” 

“If he ain’t, I sure as hell am. I haven’t cooked in here in ages.” 

“Come grab as much as you’d like. TJ, I’ll make your plate.” 

A kiss on the forehead was Patrice’s way of exiting the conversation to busy herself with dinner preparation, leaving Summer and Terry at the table alone. Summer watched him reckon with his decision and cleared her throat for his attention as she stood. 

“She’s good for you. Don’t screw it up. Take it from me.” 

Don’t screw it up.

The simple sentence sat with Terry through his half-eaten dinner and grueling trial prep with Edwin once he arrived. For hours they meticulously picked through Terry’s story, poking holes to simulate the courtroom and inducing stress to ensure that he was prepared. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His throat burned from repeating the same words over and over and over until they were seared into his brain. He left that house in the middle of nowhere emotionally exhausted and nearly regretting his decision to answer Summer’s call to action.

Terry’s chest had grown tight with anxiety that followed him back to their cramped hotel room on the outskirts of town in what Summer considered a safe zone for him and Patrice. 

The amber glow underneath the bathroom door was the only light in the room. It was barely visible as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling listening to the sound of running water while Patrice brushed her teeth. Mike’s video played in his head on a demented loop. Every scream and crack of their fists against his flesh was magnified in the theater of his mind. He was a man tormented with no end in sight. 

He didn’t hear when Patrice shut off the water or when she called his name to see if he was awake. He only felt the empty spot beside him dip as she climbed into bed. She cozied up next to him without speaking, throwing her leg across his waist and laying her head on his chest once he’d opened his arm to welcome her presence. 

“I thought you were asleep,” she whispered in the dark. 

“Not yet. Was waiting on you.” 

“That’s sweet.” 

His chest rose and fell quickly with his chuckle. The feeling made her smile in the dark though he couldn’t see. 

They lay in silence for several minutes, both of them listening to the other breathe as a soundtrack to the night. Patrice felt herself dozing off until Terry’s deep voice cut through the still air. 

“I’m scared, Treece.” 

She didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yeah? You wanna talk about it.” 

“Not really. Can you just…talk? About anything. I need to hear your voice.” 

“Of course, baby.” Patrice nestled closer to Terry, earning a tight hug as a wordless thank you for her understanding. “Sometimes I think about the first time we met. I’d heard about you from some of the girls in homeroom, but they made you sound like some random dickhead on the football team. But you were so sweet. And that smile, God that smile. I’d never seen anything like it. I still haven’t.” 

“What’d you think about me then?” 

Patrice sighed from the sweet memory. “I thought you were special because you were kind and smart even though your friends weren’t. I thought you were too skinny to be so tall, too. You looked like you hadn’t grown into your body yet.” 

Terry chuckled. He vividly remembered spending hours in their garage gym each week desperately trying to bulk up so that he could shed the gangly giant image that had followed him from middle to high school. 

“What do you think about me now?” 

Running her fingers along his arm, Patrice stopped at the gunshot wound on his shoulder. She traced the raised scar before sliding her hand back down to lace her fingers with his. 

“I think you’re beautiful inside and out. I think that in every single galaxy, you’re my person. And, even if there’s one where you’re not, I’d still spend my whole life searching for you because your absence would leave me feeling empty inside.”

In the pitch-black room, they searched for each other, desperate to share their affection. Their tongues danced a beautiful waltz together in lockstep. The subtle smack of lips joining and separating raised the hair on the back of Terry’s neck as he fought to restrain himself. Not here. Not now. Not before he had the opportunity to do right by her and make their union official in some grand gesture he hadn’t nailed down the plan for just yet. 

He owed her more than rushed sex in a low-rank hotel on the eve of what could be a life-changing moment for them. 

Sensing his reluctance, Patrice abandoned her thoughts of straddling his waist and pulled away from the kiss to take a breath. Terry gently rolled them over beneath the sheets to act as the big spoon in their equation. 

“I love you. So much,” he whispered in her ear, this time making sure that she heard every syllable. 

Patrice lifted her head to look over her shoulder and kissed his bottom lip. “I heard you the first time. I love you. I’ll always love you.” 

“Marry me.” 

Patrice’s giggle soon turned into full on laughter, prompting Terry to join in despite his simple statement not being intended as a joke. She settled in and began lulling herself to sleep by dragging her finger along the outline of his Bad Brains tattoo that she’d committed to memory. 

“One day, maybe.” 

Unfortunately, sleep never came for Terry. He spent the entire night listening to the soft snoring Patrice swore didn’t exist and thinking through every scenario for the hours ahead. If they were quick, they could skip town and leave all of this shit behind. Maybe they could settle somewhere like Detroit or Chicago. She’d get a new job as a teacher and he could find work doing anything as long as she was happy. She’d never go for that convoluted plan, but it was a good enough distraction from his reality. 

In the morning, when the sun was high and the earthy aroma of a midnight rain had settled over the city, Patrice and Terry stood hand in hand in front of the courthouse with Summer by their side. 

It was now or never and, on the last day of testimonies, now was the only option. 

Patrice sat with the rest of the spectators beside Summer, her eyes trained on Terry as he fidgeted with his tie on the witness stand. Chief Burne sat beside his attorney with a smug grin plastered on his weathered face. He was convinced that every minute of this trial was a farce. Soon a jury of his peers would find him not guilty of crimes he surely committed and he could get on with the status quo. This wasn’t his first rodeo. The system was made for men like him. 

Without a word, the defense attorney stood up and started toward Terry. He pretended to clean his glasses before speaking, adding flare to his one-man show. 

“Terrence. Or do you prefer Terry?” 

“Terrence, please.” 

“Right.” the attorney responded with a curt smile. “Terrence, shall we begin?” 

A rhetorical question. There was no way out. 

For what felt like an eternity, Terry was subjected to question after question regarding his whereabouts, his training, his motives, and why the twelve people sitting on his left should believe that the Shelby Springs police department was a corrupt organization headed by a man intent on defrauding citizens from here to Atlanta out of their hard-earned money. 

Sweat pooled under his arms like the remnants of a monsoon. His heart raced with every thinly veiled accusation. His cuticles were nearly picked raw from his nervous scratching. He felt nauseous, highly irritable, and alone with every face in the room seeming to frown back at him like he was the one on trial for countless atrocities. 

In the sea of adversaries, Patrice kept her gaze sympathetic in hopes that he would take her expression as a life raft in a raging storm. 

Closing arguments came after a short recess, leaving Chief Burne’s fate and serval victim’s justice in the hands of twelve strangers randomly selected to balance metaphorical scales of guilt and innocence.

The wait was unbearable and energy draining. So much so that he couldn’t find the wherewithal to engage with Patrice over dinner at a local diner while she gushed over the quality of their evening special. 

“Getting solid Nashville hot chicken outside of Nashville is like a miracle. We should play the lotto tonight too.” Terry acknowledged her excitement with a quick half smile, barely looking away from the window he was resting against. Patrice persisted. “How’s your food?”

“It’s, uh, it’s good. Solid steak. Potatoes could’ve been cooked longer, I guess.” 

“Want me to send it back,” she asked, preparing to flag down the young waitress servicing them for the night. 

Terry declined and pushed his food around the plate. “I’m not even hungry. We can box it up for you to eat in the morning.” 

“Alright. Well, how’s football going? Anything new?” 

“Nope. Teenage boys still smell like sweat and weed 24/7. If they don’t tighten up, they can kiss that dream of a state championship goodbye.” 

“That’s why they have you, Drill Sergeant. Whip ‘em into shape.” 

“I don’t really have the energy for all that these days.” 

Solem silence settled over the pair as Patrice studied his tired, sunken eyes and sagging shoulders. He looked defeated and for good reason. If she could hand him a win on a platter, she’d spare no expense and sacrifice anything to make it happen just to see him smile again. 

A quiet sigh escaped past her lips before she rested her fork across her plate. “I’m gonna run to the restroom then we can get out of here, okay?”

He didn’t answer or look her in the eyes to signal that he’d heard anything she said and she didn’t push him despite feeling completely disregarded. 

Half of him wanted to chase behind her and drop to his knees in a dramatic apology. Hurting her was never his intention, but the weight of the world was crushing him relentlessly. 

Footsteps approaching the table moments later made him take a deep breath in preparation for an apology or paying the bill. The opportunity never came. 

Instead, he found himself face to face with Sandy Burne and that devilish grin he’d grown to despise. 

“Terry Richmond. We meet again and, somehow, under even worse circumstances. Enjoying your last meal before things get real bad?” 

“We can test how bad they can get if you’re feeling ambitious tonight. I got some gas left in the tank from the last time we saw each other.” 

Sandy chuckled and widened his stance. “Better save it, son. You’re not too far out of Shelby to avoid consequences and repercussions should things escalate the way they did before.” 

“Is that a threat?” 

“I never make threats. I write checks that me and my men cash. Ask Mike.”

Terry could feel his heart rate reaching dangerous levels. He wanted to cause physical harm, break limbs, step on throats - anything to inflict pain on an everpresent thorn in his side. 

Burne relished the opportunity to make him uncomfortable. He took note of Terry’s fingers curling into a fist against the table as he stared straight ahead. “Ooh, are we upset? We could take things to the parking lot if you’re feeling ambitious.” 

Impulse control had faded where the need for violent retribution stepped in. Common sense was out the door. Terry’s eyes darted between the entrance and the small group of men that had formed outside the window awaiting his next move. He sized them up, ranking them from the least to the greatest threat, and made his decision. 

He began to move out of the booth. 

“Sandy fuckin’ Burne, you peckerwood son of a bitch. To what do we owe the displeasure of seeing your worn out, leathery face up close? Zoo couldn’t hold you?” 

Patrice stepped closer, her tone deceivingly jovial though she meant every word as a targeted insult.

Sandy took a step back to let her pass as she headed back to her seat across from Terry. He scoffed at the idea that she could speak to him with no regard for his position in society. 

“I’m sorry, have we met?” 

“Oh, God no! I don’t frolic with terrorists or walk in lockstep with the wicked. You’re a God-fearing man, right?” 

“I am.”

“Good. You should be. Because your time is coming, Sandy Burne. I’m sure of it.”

“What are you trying to say?” 

Patrice looked him up and down, her eyes briefly stopping at the light right spot around his left ring finger where a wedding band presumably once sat. She smiled and flickered her gaze back up to his face screwed in a scowl. 

“Nothing your wife hadn’t already said when she left your sorry ass for somebody with a functioning brain and half-decent dick. Kathy was her name, right? I bet she doesn’t even think of you anymore. But she and her lawyer would be glad to hear that you’re carrying around that pistol off duty. It’d be enough to keep you from those sweet girls for good, wouldn’t it?” 

Shock came first on Burne’s face. His mouth hung open in clear confusion before he recovered with a steely glare. His hand twitched on the handle of his gun in apparent anger. Terry pulled his bottom lip into his mouth in anticipation of the inevitable. If he moved quickly, he could disarm him, take the beating that was sure to follow, and end up in a holding cell for the weekend to save Patrice from danger. 

She, however, wasn’t the least bit concerned. She had dealt with men like Sandy Burne before. And, if she knew his type like she thought he did, he only purported a willingness to utilize real violence to get ahead. In reality, he was a man desperate for power in the most sneaky, backhanded way possible.

She kept a poker face, staring at Sandy with the same force he showed to her until he slowly pulled his hand off his weapon and tapped his fingers on the table. 

“When all of this is over and I’m back at my desk, take your gal and get out of my town, son. Don’t come back unless you are personally invited by the mayor himself. And even then think twice. I’ve given you two too many chances. Three times and both of you are out.” 

Burne didn’t leave room for additional conversation. He scanned Patrice’s face a final time to commit it to memory just in case she followed through on her thinly veiled promise to expose him to his ex-wife’s divorce attorney. He wanted to capture a mental picture of the executioner committed to destroying his life piece by piece if he made a false move. 

A final curt smile was all he left behind before exiting the same way he came and taking his cast of bandits with him. Both Terry and Patrice watched until they were clear of the parking lot and gone into the night to speak. 

“Let’s make sure we’re packed and ready to go first thing in the morning. Don’t leave anything up to chance.” Terry instructed, pulling out his wallet to toss enough money on the table to cover the bill and tip. “How did you know that about his wife?” 

“Edwin Carter is good people.” 

Terry didn’t need further explanation. The less he knew, the better. 

What he did need was a morsel of Patrice’s optimism that she tried to share once they returned to their hotel room. 

“Look. If things don’t go our way here, I need you to leave without me. Go home, grab as much as you can, then go stay with your parents or my parents. It won’t be safe for you to live alone.” 

“Everything will be fine. Get some sleep.”

The conversation came back to him as they filed into the courtroom with the surprising news of a decision. Days of no rest had left him weary and something like a warm zombie with vacant eyes and trembling hands. 

According to Edwin, reaching a verdict this soon in a case that was rushed to this degree was unusual. He didn’t know what to make of the timeline. He could only hope for the best. 

Apprehensive chatter in the room ceased once the judge stepped out of her chambers and approached the bench. Everyone stood in reverence at the behest of the bailiff before quickly settling in silence. 

The judge adjusted in her seat and then addressed the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to remind you that once the verdict is read, there should be no outbursts. Please ensure that you maintain proper courtroom etiquette and remain seated until the jury has exited the room. If we’re all on the same page, has the jury reached a verdict?” 

“Yes, Your Honor,” the foreperson answered, standing with the decision in his hand. The judge gestured for him to continue. 

Terry gripped Patrice’s hand, unknowingly holding his breath in preparation for the worst. Summer bowed her head again in prayer. Patrice closed her eyes and tilted her head toward heaven. 

Count 1: Guilty. Count 2: Guilty. Count 3: Guilty. 

Guilty down the line. Each alleged crime culminated in the same result. Justice seemingly served. A criminal enabled by a corrupt system was finally stripped of power and forced to convene with the very people he’d helped put away. 

A whirlwind of handcuffs, shouting, and a struggle sent Sandy Burne to his next destination and the trio outside the courthouse onto the steps to celebrate an unexpected triumph. 

They exchanged hugs and happy tears until the crowd had cleared and they were the only three left in the area. 

Summer extended her hand toward Terry for a shake. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Terry. I’ll text you something profound every once in a while if that’s okay.” 

“Of course. Take care, Summer. Keep me updated on your girl.” 

“You got it.” She turned to Patrice who rejected the handshake and pulled her in for a warm embrace. They rocked side to side, squeezing tighter. “I appreciate your help. And your cookin’.” 

“Come by the house any time, you hear? There’s always a spot for you at our table.” 

One more squeeze was their silent signal to let go and say another goodbye before Terry and Patrice were left standing alone. 

Terry looked out into the distance, a smile ghosting at the corner of his full lips. Optimism. 

“You ready to get out of here? I think we could get to Atlanta by the evening and stay overnight if we book it.”

“What if we didn’t go home,” he asked. His head turned to get a look at Patrice’s confused expression. She searched his bright eyes for hints at his end goal. 

“I’m due back at work in a few days, Terry. Break is almost over.”

“I’ll have you back before then. Let’s celebrate first, though. I know the perfect place. You trust me?” 

Patrice took a deep breath and nodded. “You know I do.” 

“Good. Then let’s go.” 

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