#so either we got rid of them by selling them or had to throw them out at the end of the night

[puppysdog]

i never really talk about it on here but my “retirement” dream has been to open my own cat cafe called the black cat cafe which helps rescue and adopt out black cats since they have the lowest adoption rate. its gonna be gothic/witchy themed and serve coffee and tea drinks, as well as pastries and some small lunch options. i wanna make it so it can be a cozy study spot with like a mini library lounge area in the lobby as well as reservable study tables in the actual cat room. i dont want a lot of staff as i want to do most the work with my partners help, but id hire queer or trans people that are worried about applying to jobs because of their identity, and give them a safe space to work where theyd always have a boss thatd have their backs. free staff lunches, paid lunch breaks and commute if needed, if you like a customer enough you can give them a discount, just overall a good fun place to work and hang out :)

[mamirhodessxox]

Unpublished prompts from HTD

🌸🎀🌸🎀🌸🎀🌸🎀🌸🎀🌸🎀🌸🎀🌸

*Randy & Mira trying to plan Cody & Delilahs bachelor & Bachelorette party.* “He said he didn’t wanna go to a strip club or out of town. “Delilah says she doesn’t want those male stripper magic mike like dancers either so I don’t know what to do at this point” “They’re so fucking boring and in love at this point just has Cody come to the bachelorette party as her personal male stripper or something.” “Randy how else do you think Delilah got pregnant. He’s already a personal male stripper.”-Randy & Mira

“Delilah if your gonna have a bachelorette party you need to learn how to throw your ass.” “Mira I don’t have a butt made for tha-“ “BULLSHIT”-Mira, Delilah & Cody

“I’d rather choke on acid tabs than look at another womans oiled up boobs.” “Ok so what if I dressed up as a stripper and you looked at my oiled up boobs.” “Randy is there something you need to tell us?”-Cody, Randy & Seth

“Delilah the woman that you are” *Delilah in a night gown from walmart* “what..”-Cody & Delilah

“I realized I have Daddy issues & Mommy issues.” “I kind of gathered that when we first had sex Lilah.”-Cody & Delilah

“Seth?” “Yes?” “Can you stop fucking breathing it’s to loud & irritating”-Mira & Seth

“LEARN HOW TO FUCKING DRIVE YOU DICK” “Mira calm down you just got your drivers last month you are NOT vin diesel.”-Mira & Seth

“Guys I think Delilah’s pregnant” “how?” “You shouldn’t even be asking that when you know her & cody go missing ever 3 hours every day & 2 she just cussed someone out at target.” “She never cusses..” “OH MY GOD HE GOT MY SWEET ANGEL GIRL PREGNANT.”-Seth, Jey & Mira

*Everyone on a cruise* “Hey Cody.” “Hi…” “I like this cruise idea it was smart.” “Oh thanks.” “It’s a perfect way to get rid of your body if you piss me off.” “Oh.”-Mira & Cody

“The oceans so pretty!” “Beach sex.” “What?” “Beach sex.”-Mira & Randy

“I always knew Randy had a fat crush on mira. Isn’t that right Bunny?” “You call me that one more time I’ll rip your fucking ear off.” -Seth & Mira

“Guys where’s Mira?” “Adopting a parakeet” “FUCK”-Randy & Jey

“Here is our almost too emotionally and psychically attached couple that loves each other so much.” “Your so cute “no your so cute!” “And here’s our mildly toxic couple.” “I WANT MORE ATTENTION FROM YOU” “I ALREADY GIVE YOU ENOUGH ATTENTION WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” “MORE ATTENTION!!”-Seth, Cody & Delilah, Mira & Randy

“So is seth the top or bottom in his marriage with becky?” “I’d rather not know.”-Randy & Cody

“Ok guys I’ve been teaching Delilah how to stand up for herself a little better let me show you. Hey loser” *Delilah on the verge of tears* “hey man..don’t call me that!” “Did I just watch Cody try to bully her like this is disney channel?”-Cody, Delilah, Becky

“I love you.” *Mira coming back after zoning out* “huh?” “I- uh I said I’m SELLING you.”-Randy & Mira

“Awh look at them their play fighting!!” *Mira trying to slap a spider off Randy’s head from the distance* “CAN YOU NOT TARNISH MY BRAIN CELLS PLEASE?” “I’M FUCKING TRYING”-Delilah, Randy & Mira

“Hey Cody?” “Yes gorgeous?” “Do you like me?” “I literally proposed to you twice Delilah.”-Delilah & Cody

“Would you love me if I was a worm?” *Randy trying to sleep* “Mira it’s 3 in the fucking morning go to sleep.”-Mira & Randy

🌸🎀🌸🎀🌸🎀🌸🎀🌸🎀🌸🎀🌸🎀🌸

@alyyaanna @jeysbvck @kabloswrld @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @femdisa @claymoresofinfamy23

[fandoms-in-law]

Stories Chapter 9 - final chaper

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7 chapter 8

Summary: The redecorating is done, and all that's left is getting used to it. So Steve arranges a movie night for everyone

Authors comment: I had so much fun writing this and cannot thank everyone enough for all the support you've given me.

/\/\

 According to Eddie all the kids were thinking about now was how Steve had decorated other bits of the house and if he'd let them see it all at some point. That, at least, was the reason Steve gave for arranging a family movie night with everyone invited, from all the members of Hellfire, to Joyce, Hopper and Murray and even Argyle if he managed to get back to Hawkins for it. 

It wasn't a lie, just not the full reason because the bigger motivation was that Steve had finally got the carpet changed, and the furniture switched out with the old things put in storage. He was hoping not to store all of it for long, and was going to offer to the adults and young adults of the group that they should have a look through and decide if any of them want some of it. As long as the kids didn't steam-roll the evening he'd make the suggestion while everyone is together.

"There's no mural?" Dustin asked, staring around the living room as if one would appear on the walls. "I was sure that you'd have asked for one in here since you got one in the dining room along with that painting." 

Steve huffed a laugh, "Good observation Dustin. Thanks for a quieter reaction though. Did any of you actually think of films you want to watch or was everyone focused on how I've changed the living room?"

"We can watch films whenever. You'll surprise us with redecorating only this once. Of course that's what we want to judge." Mike stated as if expecting anything else was stupid. "But at least you kept the TV. That would have been a waste to get rid of."

Max scoffed form where she'd pulled El and Lucas down onto one of the massive cushions slightly shaped to be sofa like. "And you're not even judging it right. Like the mix up of these cushions and proper sofas is so weird. Couldn't just pick one type, could you?"

"So you want us to throw these out, right?" Steve countered, not even needing to glance at Robin for them both to grab an end of the cushion the trip were on and start pulling it towards the door.

He got squeals of laughter before Lucas and El were taking Max's words back for her. "Guess I'll have to keep it then."

...

Steve smirked when he saw Hopper quietly stepping away from the noise of his living room when they were between films and Robin was corralling the kids into actually making a decision on the next one.

"You finding parenting them all a bit hard." He asked, following and a teasing tone in his voice.

"Not sure how you manage it, even with all the energy of youth to help you." Hop grumbled, grabbing one of the beers he'd brought over.

Steve shrugged, "It's a gift."

"By the way, you had any luck getting hold of Owens?" The chief asked, keeping an eye on the door in a clear desire to not be interrupted asking about it.

"I think the number is either disconnected or he's got a way to block our numbers cause I can't get through." He answered, disgruntled. "But I'm still ready to put it right using that page to claim the money off Mr Harrington if you and Joyce will let me."

"Just call him the asshole. People round town are already calling you 'that young Mr Harrington' sometimes like this is some Austin nonsense. And no, we're not letting you risk him trying to fight back if he's not realised what he signed. You just got your place safe and made it a home." Hopper insisted.

"Then at least go through the furniture I'm getting rid of and take some of it, even if it's just to sell on. I bet a fancy bed could do wonders for your back." Steve segued easily. He'd hoped he could do something like that just to make Hopper more likely to accept.

There was still a moment where he was stared at as if Hopper knew what he'd tried to do and was trying to decide if he should reject the offer just in principle. "I'm paying you something for anything I decide to take. Don't care if you don't think you need it or shouldn't ask for it, and God knows I'm not going to get close to however much the asshole paid for the stuff, but you're taking something." Hopper sighed after a moment. 

"I'm offering to just give it to you though." Steve protested, but stopped at the flat look he was given.

"And I'm saying you shouldn't just give this stuff away. At least tell me you're going to properly sell the rest of it."

He was nodding before the sentence was finished. "I've gone to the auction house in Indie to get them to resell it. Plus Robin is scheming to get Hawkins High kids informed of this to see if some of the furniture gets brought back."

It was clear Hopper was going to say something more but both men picked up some call saying they couldn't explore. "Guess there's still some curiosity among the brats for all they hated not getting lifts from you."

…

Robin and Eddie were laughing on each others shoulders when they re-entered the living room, near the other door to the room.

From the look of Dustin and Lucas it was clear they were the ones to stop the laughing pair, which honestly made Steve start laughing too.

"It wouldn't be exploring when they were my main help in getting everything done,but how about I give everyone a tour, settle your curiosity before we eat and the next film is put on?" Steve decided. 

"Two rules: Judgement is okay, telling Steve what he should have done when it's really just your preference is not. Go through the shelves or cupboards and be sent back here. If that's not enough to stop snooping we can take tips from 'Charlie and the Chocolate factory'. Consequences are exaggerated and plausibly deadly." Robin cut in, grinning at the noises of complaints nobody actually voiced.

"No deadly or plausibly so consequences, including no throwing my kids in the pool." Steve countered, snapping his fingers back at her before leading the way upstairs. "I will let you see my room. Will's mural deserves to be shown off, but no brats are allowed in without supervision."

"Come on Steve. It fits with how they're acting." Robin goaded, still laughing as they all followed behind him. 

…

“Hang on a second. That's freaking metal!” Gareth stated, one of the last of the group to enter Steve's room and now frozen staring at the mural Will had painted covering the wall behind the door. “How do you dress all prep and pretentious, when you want something so – so metal on your walls? I thought Eddie convinced you to do it for the dining room, but here? What?”

The other elder Hellfire guys had pushed forwards while Gareth spoke to see and were nodding along with his words. The kids instead just stared at them for a moment, before Dustin scoffed. “I told you, Steve is metal. He's like awesome. Why does no-one believe me when I'm always right?”

“Ego check.” The groan came from Steve, leaning in the door frame before he shrugged at the other teens. “And this is what I'm used to wearing. That's what I keep ending up doing and we all protect each other. It's just life, with a twist Will gave it to make it look cooler.”

Eddie snickered, nodding at his friends, “And I am trying to convince him to have a makeover, try out a better style. It's slow work though.”

“One group of big changes at a time, Eds. Let's get used to the house being redecorated before redecorating me.” Steve countered, nudging him.

Gareth was still looking from Steve to the mural, before finally deciding, “You had better include trying out DnD at some point. If even half of what the shitheads say, and that mural shows, is in you then you'd be a great player.”

“Don't encourage them trying to make me join.” Steve groaned over a chorus of agreement from the kids to the words.

...

Since they'd actually changed the furniture of Steve's room, he'd spent a month sleeping in the guest bedroom. He liked it in his room during the day but adjusting to having all his things around him openly felt terrifying, even more so after he decided the shelves were a good place for his notebooks of stories.

The thought remained in his head that his parents would see and destroy everything was too ingrained in Steve to simply be shaken off. If he wasn't staring at it while trying to sleep it was easier to believe he was as safe from his parents as everyone was finally beginning to believe they were safe from the Upside down and government torture.

Robin and Eddie still haven't been allowed to look in the notebooks since the kids found them. They hadn't asked, nor really pished him to share his storytelling. The most that had been done was Eddie asking him for ideas on where he could take campaigns next and that Steve was happy to offer suggestions for. He'd never gotten in trouble for helping someone else share a story so it was safe to do.

Eddie begged for a sleepover after everyone had headed home from the movie night. He dragged Steve into his room as soon as he agreed, insisting they go to sleep cuddling on the bed, atop the covers since Steve didn't let go long enough after being pulled in for them to be pulled over after getting permission to cuddle.

It's that night that he finally starts to relax. He had spent the evening here with his family and their friends all around him, and even people he was still getting to know felt safe enough to comment and invite him into things, most people wouldn't imagine he'd enjoy.

With Eddie there now, his room must seem alive and welcoming to his friends, that meant it could be his now. He had his own space that he could decide when to share it and other people actually wanted to help him.

That meant some of his stories happy endings were real and as much as he denied it, wanting to believe in happily ever after but struggling to was the precise reason why he never shared them or tried to join in with others.

This felt a lot like a happy ever until the next change and Steve was happy with that. His friends would be with him through whatever came next regardless.

"Can you read me a story?" He asks, not trying to escape Eddie's arms until he pulled back to look for a book.

Eddie wouldn't find any, but that was fine cause Steve was already reaching for the notebook he wanted.

"Sure Stevie, anything particu-" It was clear when Eddie recognised what he was doing. "Are you sure?"

"We've got a happy ending so I want to hear about my friends getting one too." He shrugged, silently asking that there isn't a big deal made out of this.

Nothing is as the notebook is taken from his hand, Eddie flipping through the pages to a bookmark he'd watched Steve replace while moving his things onto the shelves. 

[donnerpartyofone]

We have been throwing stuff out, making donation bags, and moving things to the new place all day. It's fucking great. I have done a very good job at the emotionally difficult task of weeding out media that is either redundant, no longer plays, or is otherwise undesirable. There's so much personal history in those shelves and I had no idea how liberating it would be to work on this. I used to have a really demanding, manipulative friend whose way of courting me in the early days was bringing what probably amounted to a few hundred burned DVDs and CDs to my place of work; some of it was appropriate but a lot of it was totally uncurated, it was just, like, "movies that came out one time", middling mainstream crap with no artistic or ironic value. Or stuff he liked that I didn't. For me to get through it all, I would have had to give up my own routine and personal interests, it was just not a reasonable demand to make on a friendship. And then I had a ton of stuff from my abusive ex-boyfriend who had this relentless cycle of buying a bunch of new DVDs that made him feel like a cineaste or something, barely watching them, trying to flip them on ebay, get nuclear angry when he didn't break even or failed to sell, and then usually he'd just try to give them to me. I got a Space Ghost Coast to Coast set out of it, but now I have to get rid of all kinds of meaningless reissues of "classic Hollywood cinema". And of course I have movies from the sadistic older man who almost ruined my life in college by using me to fuck with his younger girlfriend; unfortunately he was my intellectual hero then and the movies he showed me changed my life, but I can finally ditch all that stuff since I got much nicer editions and became my own person. I didn't even realize how much of this stuff I had, I could have done this a long time ago! Unless you live a more spartan existence than I do, you never know what might be haunting your house. I'm already starting to feel like I've had a successful exorcism.

[lastoneout]

long angry ad rant below feel free to ignore I haven't eaten today

My favorite thing about the advertising industry is that you can't even fucking protest it if you're a creator. Like I'm a twitch streamer, right? It's literally my job. I don't make anywhere near enough to live off of it but I'm disabled so I can't work and every couple of months Twitch throws $100 at me so yeah, it's my job.

And Twitch kinda sells itself on the concept that you can decide how you run your channel. You can choose when to run ads and what types, be they pre-roll or mid-roll or banner ads, and you can use the allure of ad-free viewing as a way to get people to subscribe. You can stream basically whatever for however long and control when your vods are saved and clips and your channel layout and all that. Freedom of choice, right?

Well here's the thing, you actually don't have a choice. At least when it comes to ads.

I hate ads with a burning passion. I get offers for sponsorships through streamelements pretty often and tbh I don't care for any of the products so I don't take them(bcs I have always had a personal policy that I will only take ads for products I actually like and I sure don't fucking like any of these). I have watched my viewers complain about mid-roll ads interrupting my stream right when I'm answering a question or when something interesting happens(and this has also happened to me on other channels and yeah it sucks). I have had my long time viewers complain about pre-roll ads, and several other streamers I look up to have confirmed that pre-roll ads tend to scare new viewers off and make them bail on raids. I've had people I know irl say they bail on raids bcs of pre-roll ads. Banner ads are the least intrusive but they still are annoying at get in the way, and ofc with all ads I have literally no say in what gets shown, which means I could unknowingly subject my viewers to triggering content and I REALLY hate that idea.

And, to top it all off, in the like almost two years I've been an affiliate I've made like...probably less than $15 on ads. They are such a miniscule portion of my revenue that it's laughable.

So, as running my twitch channel is basically like running a buisness for me, I decided the downsides to running ads FAR outweigh any upsides, and that I was far more likely to gain new viewers(and new subscribers) if I got rid of them.

You can't turn ads off. I can turn off mid-roll and banner ads, and if I run a mid-roll ad I get like...a ten minute grace period where no pre-rolls will be shown, but there is NO way to completely turn them off. (Plus Twitch has gone out of it's way to make ad blocker basically completely fucking useless on it's site like I have two and I'm on Firefox and I still get ads.)

And I've seen the argument that Twitch HAS to run ads on everyone's channels bcs that's how they make money, but if so it's kinda FUCKED that streamers get barely anything for them(and also that they run a solid 30 seconds to a minute of ads by default and you can't control that either). Apparently there's a 50/50 split but you have to run a bazillion ads to actually get anything for them. Plus Twitch also takes like 50% of our sub money ANYWAY so from where I'm standing it makes more sense to give channels the option to focus on subs over ads especially when we have PROOF that too many ads are scaring off potential subscribers.

(Plus Twitch is run by Amazon so it's not like they're broke and they were perfectly profitable back when they had WAY less ads so I don't buy the "we have to make money" argument on this one like I do on tumblr. And I'm not the only one complaining, lots of big name Twitch streamers have been talking about how it's bullshit that Twitch is pushing us all to run more and more ads instead of just letting us focus on subs. It hasn't always been this way.)

But nah, fuck us I guess.

And you might say "okay move to YouTube then" but YouTube requirements for monetization(not just ads, they lock superchats behind it too) are way harder to reach than Twitch's, and besides one thing that has ALWAYS pissed me off about YouTube is that when you go to channels that for sure don't qualify for monetization without ad blocker on, guess what! YouTube is running ads on the videos anyway!! I don't like that at all!!

The only way to completely get away from ads would be to ditch my affiliate status, which would mean I can't have custom emotes or subscribers or channel points, all of which are basically crucial for making your stream profitable, or to build my own fucking website from the ground up and pay for it myself which like, obviously I can't do that. (Or idk use tumblr live or tiktok but like...no.)

I mean tbh I hate ads so much at this point I'd fucking pay Twitch if it meant I could completely turn them off. Like here take the lost revenue it's clearly only like $2 a month anyway.

And I mean, I don't want to shame channels who do run ads, I get it, we all need to make money, but it's just SO fucking infuriating that there's basically no way to completely opt out of them. I don't want to make my viewers watch ads, I don't want anything on my channel that I wouldn't want to watch myself!! It's gotten to the point where I straight up encourage people to use ad blockers on my channel bcs I just don't want them to see ads, and tell them of they feel bad about it a single $2 donation is more than I'd make in ads all year so that's a better way to support me.

Anyway sorry for the long vent I've just been so pissed about this. And again not trying to shame any streamers who do run ads, I mean clearly we don't have a choice but also I get that people need the money more than I do, I just really fucking wish I could have a choice on this one.

[freakingoutthesquares]

Pulp Words: Siân Pattenden Taken from Select Magazine, October 1994 Transcription: Acrylic Afternoons

Russell Senior is the guitarist with "mad, staring eyes" and an interesting sideline in violin-playing with Pulp. He lives in Sheffield with his girlfriend and two children in a Coronation Street-style abode with a "certiflable lunatic" over the road who throws stones at his window. He is having a problem getting rid of the Artex that swamps the walls of the house at the moment, and has just finished painting the bathroom.

COCKTAIL SHAKER "I've always liked the idea of it, but only recently have I been able to afford to do it. The idea of sophistication like in a James Bond movie. It's just civilised values. Particularly in Sheffield, there's a tendency for things to turn into a Hogarthian nightmare. All these lairy people wandering about. It's for people like me to keep a stiff upper lip."

SUNGLASSES "I have so many. It started a few years ago in France. I wore these sunglasses, and afterwards in a nightclub loads of French people offered me money for them. I thought, Here's a way to earn money. So I bought loads of pairs and wandered around waiting for people to buy them. They didn't. Also, I've got these mad staring eyes. At concerts people'd be dancing, but there'd be a pool of emptiness in front of me, with people looking terrified. I started wearing sunglasses so I wouldn't disconcert people."

SOPHIE "She's my daughter, she's six. She's very into the macabre, Egyptology, vampires, things like that. Her favourite book is the Tibetan Book Of The Dead. Her teachers must think we're Satanists or something, because I see her school books and it's all drawings of vampires and stuff like that. I quite like horror films and horror books, but it's mainly her interest. She wants 'em."

JACKET "It's my own and I have worn it, but I wouldn't wear it to do the gardening. I got it from the cat shelter at the top of our road - a charity shop, not a place for beleaguered cats. I think originally it was the jacket that the mayor of a small American town owned."

GLASSES "These are from East Germany. I bought dozens of boxes of these in a car boot sale and they're the only ones left because they're so fragile. They're amazing, the kind of thing that would be in Modesty Blaise. They're completely impractical, which isn't really me. I like everything to be functional. I only use drinking glasses that are not made this century. It's tacky, new glass. I don't like tack and I don't really like the '70s either."

LAMP "You know lava lamps? I used to sell them. That's very Pulp, innit? That's a glitter one. The thing about your lava lamp is they take an hour to warm up, and they're good to look at but the light they give out isn't terribly interesting. Whereas the glitter ones give out a nice warm light. That's from my dealing days - kitch value that is, but I use it."

TREASURE CHEST "About three years ago Sophie found a large golden key in a wood near us, and recently she found a bottle with a map. We found this old tunnel from the map, and we came across this treasure chest. It's true. It had brass candlesticks in it, rum, spices, amber, old books in Latin, Roman coins - treasure. It was worth nothing individually, but accumulatively... it was everywhere the glint of gold. It's here to stand for the fact that I'm the treasurer of the abode, which means doing things like doing the books."

WALLPAPER "It's fairly neutral. The main thing in this house is getting round the Artex in the other rooms. I regard Artex as an affront to civilised values, a deeply cynical form of decorating. To me it's the epitome of bad taste, I try to avoid it."

CHESS "I play on tour. Touring is 90 per cent intensely boring, and there's always a tendency to do the most mind-numbing things - to be surrounded by screwed-up cans of lager, play Nintendo and have three kinds of music all playing at the same time. It's terrible. Whereas chess perks the mind up. I'm not a good player but it's one of those civilised things."

STEREO CABINET "I don't think it looks very nice. It's OK, but you've got to put it on all the black hifi stand stuff. I've got a thing about keeping any sort of reference to music out of the mainstream of my life. You won't see any Pulp posters in my house. I don't listen to our records."

MUSHROOMS "I use them in cooking, I pick them to eat them. I learnt about them from books. I had this chart with mushrooms on, I saw all these exotic things you could find in the woods. Fungi is an amazing world, but there's a certain snobbery involved - it's just an excuse to charge exorbitant prices for a meal. Most of them aren't as nice as ordinary mushrooms from a shop. That's the truth, as someone who's tried most of them. The best? A shaggy parasol is probably the finest."

HERBS "I like having all the herbs and spices there are, every nut in existence, every seaweed. I like going to shops to buy a nice vegetable or piece of meat, and come home and think, What are we going to do with you then? I like having every possible cuisine available to me. That choice. If I was going to live in London it would be because you can't get fresh basil in Sheffield."

RECORDS "I don't listen to that much, but I'd listen to Wagner and Bach quite a lot. The Rolling Stones are probably my favourite classic rock band. (Confidentially) I have listened to The Auteurs a bit, that's my concession to the '90s. It doesn't play a large part in my life music, at home."

SUNGLASSES STAND "Plastic and fluorescent, maybe luminous. I wouldn't have that kind of rubbish in my living room ordinarily, it's my one token Pulp thing. If you're going to say Pulp is all about '70s-ness and kitschness, well, it's one media perception that isn't me. There are other elements to Pulp of which I'm one."

VIOLIN BOW "To represent my amazing violin playing in the group, such as it is. My violin's at the practice room. No, I don't play it round the house to amuse the kids."

Kitten.

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

TSITP 2x06 - "Love Fest" : Quotes

"- I don't know I'm kind of happy here, and not in a pharmaceutically induced way. (Skye) - And I want you to be happy. I want you to know them. (Julia) - Do you? Because it kind of feels like you've kept me away and only told me all the bad stuff. But, I don't know, I mean, this place is king of lime our last tie to them. (Skye) - (...) Just.... don't be surprised if the phone doesn't ring. (Julia) - I know you genuinely believe that you're gonna get closure by selling this house, but you're not. You never will. (Skye) - What makes you so sure? (Juila) - Because you're not selling it for closure or for money or any of the other reasons. You're selling it for confirmation. That you could... that we could never belong here. That if you tried, it would just be shitmas all over again. (Skye) "- Don't tell me you bought your own Christmas gifts, too. (Julia) - Hey, at least I'm guaranteed to get exactly what I want. (Susannah) (...) - Can you just quit with the martyr mentality? Jesus, you're making her out to be like Meredith Blake or whatever he name is from The Parent Trap." (Susannah) - So you think I made it up? (Julia) - Mom, obviously not. I mean, your dad was an emotionally withholding prick. And Aunt Susannah was in denial about her parents' shittiness. But the moment Conrad and Jeremiah came to you with a version of their house and their family that didn't fit, you just shut down. I mean, instead of hearing them out, you got rid of all their suff and took the first offer on the table? Mom. You have the biggest heart, and it really sucks to see you close it off because of the past." (Skye)

"- Okay. So, I know things aren't going so great right now, but it's always the darkest before the dawn, right? (Jeremiah) - It's over. (Conrad) - No. Our last memory here can't be this. Everyone miserable and defeated. I mean, this place deserves a better goodbye than that. (Belly) - Like what? My mom came to the beach house with Susannah for the first time after her dad died. And it was supposed to be just the two of them, but Susannah hated how empty the house felt, so she decided to throw a huge party. Everyone was dancing and drinking, and they went swimming at midnight. And Susannah said it was like Gatsby or something. So I say that we throw a party, too." (Belly)

"- But, yes, Taylor does have some good therapy in her back pocket, despite her questionable sources. You... tend to either live way up here, where everything is awesome, or way down here, where everything's shit." (Steven)

"- You know those places you always end up in your dreams? You know, your subconscious brain takes you there 'cause it's a safe space in real life? (Jeremiah) - Yeah. (Belly) - This house is that for me. And after today, I'll only ever get to swim in this pool in my dreams. It's weird. (Jeremiah) - Well... I mean, if if time is running out... (Belly) - You did not just do that. (Jeremiah) - Sorry. You were going dark. I had to save you from yourself. (Belly) - Is that all you got? (Jeremiah) - Yeah! No! (Belly) - You know, I never thought we were gonna lose this place. Did you? (Belly) - No. Never. (Jeremiah) - I always thought I loved this place as much as I possibly could. Now I... I can't help but think I didn't love it enough." (Belly)

"- Babe? (Milo) - Yes, baby, I'm-I'm here. (Taylor) - When are you coming back? I'm trying to write some new songs, but I need my muse next to me." (Milo)

"- Uh, gin for Skye. (Jeremiah) - Who drinks gin? (Belly) - Old people and Skye." (Jeremiah)

"- Oh, no. What, your I.D. didn't work, Mr. Herbertson? (Jeremiah) - Fuck off. At least I have one. (Conrad) - What? Listen, it's 'cause I don't need one, all right? Jumper and I are tight. You know, we're, like, bros. Come one, how hard could it be? Watch and learn. (Jeremiah) - Oh, look at that face. (Conrad) - So, what? Do you want to, like, pay someone to go in and buy it for us or... ? Try a different store? (Jeremiah) - Yeah. Hop a few towns over, where they don't know us as well? (Conrad) - Yeah, I just don't think that anyone is gonna buy your Guam I.D. (Belly) - I would love to hear your plan, Isabel. (Conrad) - Why don't I just go in and ask? (Belly) - That's not gonna work. (Conrad) - He's right, it's not gonna work. (Jeremiah) - Okay." (Belly)

"- No. No, no, I'm not. (Belly) - Oh? (Jumper) - I'm gonna tell you the truth, and then you can decide if you want to help me out. Uh, so here's the deal. It's been a really crappy six weeks. (Belly) - Yeah, I, I heard about their mom. (Jumper) - And I'm sure, um, you heard the house was for sale. (Belly) - Was? (Jumper) - It actually sold this morning. So tonight is our last night here, for, like, ever. (Belly) - Whoa. That blows. (Jumper) - Yeah, I know. It really, really blows. Have you ever just had, like, the shittiest day and all you want to do is just hang out with your friends and have a beer?" (Belly - Seriously Belly)

"- Let's get this in the car quick. And do not get pulled over on the way home, or I'll say you stole it while I was on the john. (Jumper) - I can't believe you just asked. (Jeremiah) - I can't believe it worked. (Conrad) - Come on, you guys. Not everything has to be so complicated. (Belly) - For me? (Jeremiah) - Yeah. (Belly) - What's you get me? (Jeremiah) - Drink it and see. (Belly) - Half cherry, half Coke. Your specialty. Nice. (Jeremiah) - Yeah. (Belly) - Where's mine? (Conrad) - You always say they're too sugary. (Belly) - Yeah, well, I'm thirsty, so too bad. Mm. It's too sugary. And I thought cocoa was your specialty." (Conrad)

"- All right, so what's the plan here? (Conrad) - Uh, I mean, it's a rager, right? (Belly) - So, go big. How big are we talking, Bells? (Jeremiah) - Right. I mean, are we talking, like.... Dad's Amex big or... ? (Conrad) - The sacred emergency Amex? Are you thinking what I'm thinking? (Jeremiah) - What? (Belly) - Blow-up furniture, strobe lights, bubble machines... the whole shebang. (Jeremiah) - Yes, yes and yes. (Belly) - Yes? Okay. Last one to fill a cart has to load it all in. Go! (Jeremiah) - Wait. Wait. Wait. Stop!" (Belly)

"- Retro vibes? (Steven) - Yeah. (Taylor) - That's sweet. He. I would come to this. I would at least stop by. (Steven) - Oh, my God. Please. You wouldn't even be on the guest list if you weren't throwing the party. No, but, look, I tagged Marisa and Dara. I mean, who else? (Taylor) - Please. Look, they're the biggest gossips in town. Everybody in Cousins will know about this party in no time. (Steven) - You think Shayla will come? (Taylor) - No. No, she in Ibiza. (Steven) - Oh. (Taylor) - And, yes, she calls it "Ib-eeth-a". (Steven) - No way. (Taylor) - No! You do that one more time, it's off the list. (Steven) - Whatever. Like you didn't put it on here specially for me. (Taylor) - Okay, yeah. Only because you and Belly forced me and my mom to watch your little dance routine ad nauseam. (Steven) - Okay, that is an overexaggeration! (Taylor) - 'Cause how I remember it is a little a flair with a leg kick." (Steven)

"- There is nothing fun in your cart. This is a party. (Belly) - These plates have glitter on 'em. (Conrad) - You need to get out more, Conrad. No, it's not that. Can we just talk about the elephant in the room that I feel like we both are pretending isn't there? (Belly) - Yeah. Of course. (Conrad) - I've been trying to figure out how to say it. How to apologize for that day. Susannah's funeral. (Belly) - Belly, you don't have to apologize for that. (Conrad) - Please. Just let me say this. I never meant to make that day about me. I was awful to you. I mean, I'm so ashamed of how I acted. It's just not how I wanted the day to go at all. I wanted to be there for you. That's why I went to go find you in the rec room. It's not fine. It wasn't fine. And I saw Aubrey and it's not like we were together anymore. It's not like I had any right. (Belly) - Of course you did. I was having a panic attack. I just crumbled. Felt like I couldn't breathe. Aubrey was just the one who found me. I really wish it was you. (Conrad) - Hey, Jere. We almost done. (Belly) - Cool. Uh, hurry up then. (Jeremiah) - Leave 'em around so everybody can take pictures at the party. We got to get one of all of us together. Like Susannah made us do every summer. (Belly) - That's a good idea." (Jeremiah)

"- Okay, but so I part my teeth first and then stick my tongue out? (Skye) - What are you guys talking about? (Belly) - Apparently Skye's never kissed anybody. (Taylor) - Which is completely normal and fine. (Belly) - I know. Externally imposed societal expectations of "normal" have no effect on me. That being said, I've decided that I am ready and willing and would like to know what to do with the various parts of my mouth when it meets another mouth. (Skye) - You want to take this one? I mean, Belly's the expert. Cam, Jere, Conrad.... (Taylor) - Taylor. (Belly) - What was it like kissing all them? Was it different? And in what ways? And feel free to be as technical as humanly possible. (Skye) - Yeah, Belly, spare no detail. What happened? (Taylor) - Um, me first kiss with Cam was really, really sweet. And with Conrad, I wasn't even in my body. I think I kind of blacked out. Uh, and with... Jeremiah, ... I thought it would be really weird 'cause we've been friends for so long, but.... It was surprisingly really hot. Like, really, really hot. Pretty hot. (Belly) - Well, then, out of all three, who would you kiss again? (Skye) - Isn't it obvious? (Taylor) - No comment. (Belly) - But is there ever a situation in which it's, like, all teeth and no tongue? (Skye) - Stop let yourself be in the moment and everything else will come naturally. (Belly) - Yeah. Just make sure they moisturize. (Taylor) - Care to explain? (Belly) - Milo is obsessed with lip balm. It honestly changes the game. (Taylor) - Try not to overthink it. Okay? I mean, your first kiss is supposed to feel like a dream. It there's any place where dreams come true, it's here." (Belly)

"- And Jeremiah's been swallowed by the garage. (Conrad) - You know, I always hated when Mom made us take these photos. It's like she knew we'd want them later though. (Jeremiah) - Oh, dude. No. We're so young. I can barely even remember some of those summers. (Conrad) - What if it all fades? All our memories of her. (Jeremiah) - It won't. Hey. When the movers get that stuff to Boston, the first thing I'm gonna do is I'm gonna find that picture Mom painted of you last summer. Because I never want to forget that thing. (Conrad) - You suck. (Jeremiah) - I think a museum might take it. I'm being honest with you. (Conrad) - All right. Get out of here. (Jeremiah) - I think everyone deserves to get to see Greek god Jeremiah." (Conrad)

"- Hey, what's in there? (Belly) - Oh, you know, bunch of stuff. (Jeremiah) - Oh, my God! Susannah's roller skates. I haven't seen these in forever. (Belly) - Right? (Jeremiah) - Wow. You think they fit? (Belly) - Okay, just don't throw up on anyone doing spins, all right? (Jeremiah) - That was one time. (Belly) - I had to throw that shirt away. (Jeremiah) - Okay. What else is in here? Let's see. I actually have this one, uh, taped on the mirror in my bedroom. (Belly) - Yeah. Look at how you're mooning over Conrad. (Jeremiah) - It was a long time ago. (Belly) - Really? 'Cause it seemed like you were looking at him like that earlier. (Jeremiah) - No. I wasn't. (Belly) - At the store. Felt like I was... walking in on something. (Jeremiah) - Uh, it's... it's kind of hard to explain. I mean, I think.... sometimes you're getting over your past and-and moving on in-in the present all at the same time. I don't know. Does that make any sense?" (Belly)

"- You look hot. (Taylor) - Really? It's not too much? (Belly) - No. Jeremy's gonna love it. (Taylor) - What? (Belly) - Mmm-mm. You've been looking at him all day like he's this ice cream cone you're dying to lick. (Taylor) - Taylor! Shh! Please. (Belly) - Sorry. (Taylor) - That's so... Mm, it's just... (Belly) - It's complicated. (Taylor) - Yeah, no that's exactly what he said to me. After he told me that he didn't kiss me during the truth or dare because, if he started kissing me, he wouldn't be able to stop. (Belly) - Belly, that's, like, Wattpad-level hot. (Taylor) - I know. (Belly) - You could sell that. (Taylor) - I know. But then... I don't know... there was..., like, this weird moment with Conrad today. (Belly) - I don't want to talk about Conrad. He really hurt you. (Taylor) - I know. It was probably just echoes. You know? (Belly) - It sounds messy. You know, just be careful, okay? (Taylor) - Yeah. No, you're right. Right. Uh, yeah. I will be. You know, besides, like, tonight is about something bigger. Yeah. It's party time, Yeah? (Belly) - You got this? (Taylor) - Yeah. (Belly) - All right, get dressed quick. (Taylor) - Okay." (Belly)

"- Oh, my God. (The gang) - Oh, my God, Marisa, I'm so glad you were in town. (Belly) - Oh, my God, me too. The gang's back together. (Nicole) - Yeah. I mean... Kind of. (Dara) - I heard about Gigi's dad. That sucks. (Belly) - Okay, she's fine. There's a documentary crew following her, and she thinks she's the next Kim K. (Dara) - Dara, you signed an NDA. You're not supposed to say anything. (Marisa and Nicole) - Okay, who cares? She told literally everyone. (Dara) - Tell me you didn't miss this drama. (Nicole) - No, I actually... I really did. (Belly) - We missed you. (The gang) - Oh, all right. I will be right back." (Belly)

"- Whoa! - Oh, shit. (Cam) - You don't need to hurt yourself to get my attention. (Jeremiah) - Uh, I got to get another one. So I'll BRB." (Belly)

"- No, I don't think so. (Steven) - Right. O... (Conrad) - Look, I'm rooting for you, bro, just don't fucking break her heart again. (Steven) - Says the guy who's been following Taylor around all night. (Conrad) - Oh, uh, no, I fully cop to that. Come one, man, who's she fooling, you know? (Steven) - You know she has a boyfriend, right? Just... Technically. (Conrad) - Okay, but he's all wrong for her, so... (Steven) - All right, all right. I'm not snitching. I'm just saying, bro. Be careful." (Conrad)

"- If that's gin, I'm killing you. (Conrad) - Aw, it's tequila, come on. (Jeremiah) - Okay, cups up. Listen, no matter how much time passes or how far apart we are, we're always gonna love you guys, okay? (Jeremiah) - All right? All right? - Aw, Jeremy, you cheeseball. (Taylor) - All right, to the last night!"

"- So, is she here? (Milo) - Yeah, I mean, she's around somewhere. (Skye) - Sick. Do you want to give me a direction? Like, east, west, something? (Milo) - We don't know where she is, dude. Sorry (Cam) - Yeah, I mean, she's probably wherever Steven is, so... (Skye) - Then that's where I'll be. (Milo) - What was that? (Cam) - Potentially toxic stew of masculinity masquerading as burning love? (Skye) - Right, and you just stirred it all up. (Cam) - Yeah. (Skye) - We got to warn Taylor. (Cam) - We should find Taylor. (Syke) (...) - I feel like we fulfilled our duty. You know? (Skye) - Yeah. (Cam) - Like, whatever happens next is in the hands of fate and Milo's creepily moisturized lips. (Skye) - I cannot believe that dude drove over 300 miles to make, like, this grand declaration of love for Taylor. (Cam) - I mean, is that, like, a dude thing? Acting on pure instinct and bravado and giving no fucks. (Skye) - It's definitely not a Cam thing. (Cam) - I don't know, maybe it should be. You know, life is short. Cellular decline awaits us all. These vessels are fleeting and finite, no? (Skye) - Yeah, I guess I kind of do have a minor tendency to play it safe. (Cam) - Major tendency. No judgments. (Skye) - You ever been skinny dipping? (Cam) - Is that an invitation? (Skye) - Oh. No. I mean, I wasn't... Uh, no. I was just talking about this, this one time last summer, a bunch of my friends went skinny dipping, and I chickened out, and I still regret it. (Cam) - Like you're gonna regret not getting on that boat? (Skye) - You know what? I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna get on that damn boat. (Cam) - You know... if we are being bold... I was wondering... maybe I could kiss you? I mean, totally feel free to say no. My bad if I was, like, misreading... (Skye) - Yes. (Cam) - Yeah?" (Skye)

"- Taylor you win. (Steven) - I win what? (Taylor) - This. Whatever we're doing. First person to admit they-they caught feelings loses, right? So, I lose. You win. (Steven) - Okay, drama queen. (Taylor) - Stop, Stop. I'm being serious right now, okay? I like you. Even when you were just my little sister's annoying best friend. Like, you were always just this person who was around, and now you're someone I miss when they're not around. I don't know how it happened, or when it happened... But now, you're my favorite person. Come on. Say something, please." (Steven) "- Thank you. (Belly) - Cheers. (Jeremiah) - Hey, where is everyone? I mean, we have to take that, uh, group picture. (Belly) - Oh, I can track them down if you want. Uh, last time I saw Steven he was with Tay-Tay, actually. What's going on there? Yeah, this house has seen its fair share of make-outs. Yeah. You know I had my first kiss in this house? (Jeremiah) - Really? (Belly) - Mm-hmm. And my second, on the same night. (Jeremiah) - Wow. Scandalous. (Belly) - Yeah. (Jeremiah) - Whose hearts were you breaking? (Belly) - You remember Christy Turnduck? (Jeremiah) - Turducken? (Belly) - Yes. The Turducken, yeah. Uh, and then, um, our neighbour at the time. Uh, what was his name? (Jeremiah) - Oh, Clay Bertolet. (Belly) - Um... Yes. Yeah. - No way. You know, he once broke a window in the garage and blamed me. (Belly) - Really? (Jeremiah) - Yeah. (Belly) - He was a good kisser, though. Not as good as you." (Jeremiah)

"- Fight! (Partygoer) - Bro, you need to go. (Steven) - I don't think that's up to you. (Milo) - Can we just go outside and-and cool off a moment, please? (Taylor) - She doesn't even want you here. (Steven) - Shut up, Steven. (Taylor) - Oh, trust me, she wants me. Everywhere. All the time. (Milo) - Can you not do that right now? (Taylor) - Oh! (crowd) - Oh, my God. (Taylor) - Steven. (Jeremiah) - Babe, this is for you. (Milo) - I literally don't even want this. (Taylor) - What is happening? (Belly) - No idea. (Taylor) - Come on, man! - Kick his ass, Steven. - You got it, Steven. - Come on! Get over here! Help! - Milo, stop! You're embarrassing me right now. (Taylor) - Man, fuck this. Come one, Taylor, let's go. These people are too pedestrian for us anyways. (Milo) - These people are my friends. Do you even know me? Like, at all? (Taylor) - Babe, what are you talking about? You're my girl. (Milo) - What's my middle name? (Taylor) - .... (Milo) - Yeah, I can't do this anymore. It's over. (Taylor) - Taylor.... (Milo) - It's Madison. Her middle name is Madison." (Steven)

"- Guys, so I've been texting with my mom, and she was able to put a condition into the sale. Since the buyers are only gonna use this place as a vacation home, they're agreed to let you rend the place for one week every summer. (Syke) - Wait... (Belly) - Wait, are you serious? We get to come back? Oh, my God, Skye, this is amazing. Oh, my God! (Jeremiah) - No, it's not. You can tell your mom thanks, but no. (Conrad) - Come on, Conrad, at least hear them out. It's over. Why are you the only one that gets to make this decision? (Jeremiah) - Jere, we're not gonna pay another family to rent our house. (Conrad) - This isn't our house anymore. (Jeremiah) - Exactly. Let it go. (Conrad) - Yeah, 'cause you're an expert at that. (Jeremiah) - Jere. (Belly) - No, no, this is the shit he does. When things aren't perfect, instead of trying to fix it, he just decides to throw it away. And it's not just the house. You did it to Belly, too. You came to me, you fucking begged me for my blessing to be with her. (Jeremiah) - Is that true? (Belly) - Jere, that was between us. (Conrad) - Yeah, it's fucking true. You know, when shit got tough, he couldn't handle it, and he dropped you. (Jeremiah) - Shut up, Jere. Don't use me to get at him. (Belly) - Belly, come on. (Jeremiah) - You know what? I don't want to be a part of this, okay? (Belly) - Belly... (Jeremiah) - Way to go, Jere. I mean, real classy. (Conrad) - Yeah. You're a real fucking asshole, you know that? (Jeremiah) - Grow up, Jere. (Conrad) - I did grow up! I watched Mom slip away a little bit every single day, while you were at college or with Belly or moping around after you screwed that up. (Jeremiah) - Jere, you know for a fact that I came home every second I could. (Conrad) - But it wasn't every day. (Jeremiah) - Okay, Okay. What do you want, a medal? (Conrad) - You know, I looked up to you every day of my life. And when people said that you were better than me, I wouldn't mind because I believed them, too. But you're not. Now I finally see you for who you really are. (Jeremiah) - What's that? (Conrad) - A coward. You're not someone to look up to. You're not even somebody I want to know." (Jeremiah)

"- Belly! Belly, come back inside. I'm not dragging your dead body out of the ocean if you drown out there. Come out of the water, Belly. (Conrad) - Leave me alone. (Belly) - I can't. (Conrad) - No. What are you... No! Hey! Hey! Hey, put me down! (Belly) - You're drunk, Belly. (Conrad) - Just put me down! Conrad! (Belly) - I'm not gonna put you down. (Conrad) - Let go! Let go! (Belly) - Belly... Come on. Let me help you. Come on. (Conrad) - J-Just go, okay? (Belly) - I'm not leaving you, Belly. (Conrad) - But you already did. (Belly) - Why didn't you tell me you went to Jeremiah about us? Why? Why didn't... (Belly) - I don't know. (Conrad) - If I had known... that you'd done that... that you cared that much about me, and about us.... If I had known, then I would've fought for you. (Belly) - What do you mean? (Conrad) - Fought for us. I would've fought for us. I mean, at prom and at the funeral. I mean, I... would've been there for you, through everything. - I thought you knew. (Conrad) - From the moment we kissed on the beach... (Belly) - I thought you knew. (Conrad) - Then why? Why? Why did you throw it all away? Why? I th... I thought that we loved each other. (Belly) - We did. (Conrad) - I guess not enough." (Belly)

"- I'm really sorry about what happened. (Steven) - It's okay. He shouldn't have come all this way and made a scene like that. I mean, I feel kind of bad. I mean, I don't know... (Taylor) - So, look, what I was saying earlier... (Steven) - You take it all back? (Taylor) - What, do you want me to? You have to say what you want, Taylor. It's your move. (Steven) - You remembered my middle name. (Taylor) - Taylor Madison Jewel." (Steven) "- Belly, come swim with us. Yeah. (The gang) - Are you okay? (Nicole) - Everything is wrong. I promised Susannah I wouldn't lose the magic, but it's gone." (Belly)

"- Mommy. I need you. I'm at the summer house. Susannah's house, except it's not hers anymore, and everything is going wrong, and the boys may never speak to each other again. Just come, please, okay? Just come, please, okay? Just come and fix it.

[landlordrecords]

Charity CD shopping for beginners

About nine years ago, I did THIS post: https://www.tumblr.com/landlordrecords/77471855182/charity-record-shopping-for-beginners , which I thought was quite good & summed up the subject of shopping for records in charity shops quite well, & seemed to get the odd nice comment. Since then, vinyl has swung back into favour, & everyone now seems to think every piece of vinyl is worth a fortune, & hence the charity shops either have overpriced vinyl or none at all (as either the shops sell them online or at central stores, or punters hold onto them or sell them online). Hence, the current state of the charity shops for vinyl is very poor, back to the days of largely bad easy listening & 80s records. It must be an annoying time to be starting out as a record collector (can you imagine starting now? Jeez. It was a tall enough order when I started at the beginning of the 90s). I covered CDs briefly in that piece, but I felt that with the way things have gone, that bit needed expanding somewhat. As with the previous one, if you’ve been around for a while, most of this will be obvious, but...

When the vinyl in charity shops started drying up a few years ago, I noticed the CDs were becoming more plentiful & cheaper. I often largely ignored these before, rushing from shop to shop when I was in a town for an hour or two, to look at all the vinyl. CDs in charity shops often used to be relatively expensive (£3/£4), considering that you can’t always guarantee they will play right, & the selection often poor. Now, as more people clear out collections & settle for streaming, the charity shops didn’t know what to do with them all, they had so many, & they have dropped to a max of usually £1.25, & often even 20p/25p, at which price it doesn’t really matter if the odd one doesn’t play (indeed, this is cheaper than replacement jewel cases used to be - if I was more mercenary, I’d hoover up loads of Westlife CDs, throw out the discs & replace all my bust boxes). With the pandemic, there was a huge amount of stuff people had time to sort & throw out, & this did seem to cause a charity shop wobble, with some being overwhelmed with CDs they couldn’t get rid of, & stopping doing them altogether (I even stuck one place £20 when they were literally giving away two rooms full of discs & I’d handpicked 100 from them). This seems to have calmed down now though. I have no idea how many I’ve bought in recent years - certainly many hundreds, maybe low thousands - I’ve had to start a supplementary part of my collection at my parents’ house, at the other end of the country, for the less exciting ones, there have been so many. Don’t get me wrong, I REALLY love vinyl - I was a record collector for several years before we even got a CD player, & I just stuck with it, BUT I’m not ultra-fussy - I do like to have physical copies of things, but don’t really mind what format, & new vinyl prices are truly mental, so... CDs also do have some obvious advantages - more compact, not better but more reliable audio playback (& probably better audio for a small but significant number of very quiet releases where you’d need virgin vinyl kept pristine to get good audio for them on vinyl), plus readymade for ripping from. 

My first big bagging was a couple of full collections of hip hop CDs - I pretty much completely overhauled my hip hop collection, filling in classics I’d never got round to, pretty much full (relevant) discographies for various rappers I’d never caught up with. There were earlier & later ones, but the bulk were from what I’d call the silver age (mid 90s-early 2000s), a lot of which I had ignored because of the received wisdom that this generation of hip hop albums were overlong, had too many skits, were just a couple of singles & an hour of filler. I have to say, this changed my opinion on that - I generally listen to CDs in the car, often hopping between stop-offs, & (taken in this episodic way, & able to dedicate more concentration than I can often give rap lyrics, while driving mechanically around well-known streets), I found most (certainly not all) to be way better than that, & well worth a listen or two. Also (& this isn’t new, but I’ve increased it), I spend a lot of time looking at 90s CD singles: these were often ultra-long, full of soundalike remixes, & I found this a chore at the time, but (still fiending for a lot of stuff from then), it’s surprising how many have good quality mixes buried away deep into the tracklist, even ones by acts you wouldn’t normally touch with a bargepole, & while some might be expensive on vinyl, they’re certainly not on CD single (if you can spot them). With the aforementioned episodic driving, I even quite like listening to half an hour’s worth of mixes of the same tune in order to find the goodies!

Most of the rules which I gave in the earlier piece, regarding vinyl, stay the same here -

For the Collector, Not the Dealer: I know several people who have advocated for years not to throw the baby out with the bath water on CDs - yes, they started overpriced, but became a useful, cheap way to pick up catalogue BUT they are not generally worth much still. I am starting to see rumblings that this is changing (think pieces etc), & it surely will do over time, as supplies on some titles get tighter; plus I seem to be selling cheap CDs better than a few years ago, for ever so slightly more, & occasionally for good prices BUT this is not a goldmine, it is for the enthusiast.

Broad Not Deep: Some genres I barely find in charity shops - for instance, any experimental stuff will be near-random & rare, & I don’t see much metal at all (I presume people hold onto it or swoop in first). Hence, you can’t generally go in expecting to find certain stuff (with the odd exception of ones I’ve seen hundreds of times but not thought I was interested in, then hear, like, & know I can go out & find within the next few stores). To be heavily into it, you need to be into a broad spread of stuff, & prepared to come home with a pretty random selection, commercial or obscure.

Go In Them All, Look At Every CD: Charity shops are seriously random, you never know what will come in when.

Be Prepared For Defeat: To be fair, with charity shop CDs at the mo, I could always buy SOMETHING, but try to keep your quality control going & be prepared to be pleased just to have swept that area recently. I sometimes find comps that have one or two tracks I’m after, but I listen to everything (eventually), & can’t always bear the thought of hearing all the other tracks I’ve got ten times over yet again.

If It Seems Right, Ask: I haven’t bothered getting into situations where I might get into the storeroom so much with CDs as with vinyl, but I still do occasionally get invited to look at further hidden stock if I ask if they’ve any more music. Worth a go in the right situation.

The Genres You Don’t Buy Yet: Refer back to Broad Not Deep.

Prices: We are starting to get back to where a few of the chains now have a special shop where they send all the good stuff (books, DVDs, CDs), & ramp the prices up. I’m willing to look, but unlikely to buy anything, at big prices in charity shops unless it’s some unbelievable find - most CDs are probably the same price or less new online still. Fair play to them though, & the prices aren’t as mental as those they sometimes put on vinyl yet (that trend has spread further & further, & to be fair, in recent years, has thrown up a handful of charity shops where they are clearly run by someone who knows their stuff, & I have found myself looking at racks & racks of things I never really thought I’d see copies of...but I can’t afford).

CONDITION

This was what I wanted to expand on most - I didn’t previously say much before regarding CD condition, other than that they don’t always play. I’m no expert on CD cleaning, so this is very much a rough guide, but:

Look at the playing surface of the disc in the light (usually the silver side with no artwork, although there are other colours, & sometimes I think you get double-sided ones, & some might have basically zero artwork, so are plain silver either side - hence, be slightly careful). If there is some dirt or whatever on it, it’ll probably come off - just give it a brush - & it’ll be fine. As with vinyl, with scratches it largely comes down to how deep they look - if it has just brushed against some stuff, it will probably be fine (although I might leave it if it is a spiderweb of such marks), if the marks look like it has literally been scratched, it might still play but I would generally just leave it. If you can see through the disc where paint has flecked off, it is toast, leave it. You won’t see many cracked ones, but obviously they won’t play. Beyond that, it is hard to tell - I was playing a DVD I’d picked up for 20p the other week, got halfway through & it started skipping chapters. When I got it out, I realised I must not have checked it very well, & the entire playing surface was covered in some sort of misty see-through build-up. I spent quite a while putting it under a slow cold tap, dabbing it dry with a soft towel, & repeating (all my CD-cleaning stuff died some years ago & it’s not something I need often enough to replace), eventually then rubbing the watery surface repeatedly when the previous technique wasn’t making much difference. It played fine afterwards. Others might look fine but not play at all - they can be temperamental.

Disc rot seems to mainly affect a generation of CDs from about the early 90s, although I’ve not seen it often enough to take much interest in it. It sounds like the name (look it up on Google Images), & obviously isn’t good if you do stumble across one with it. Bronzing comes from the same period (the discs end up looking bronze in colour), & I don’t remember having issues with ones like this, although I read that they will degrade, & they look pretty ugly.

Packaging-wise, if the disc has been kept OK, there may well be next to nothing wrong with the booklet etc - sometimes they’re a bit bent up or have rusty staples. The main annoyance is when they’ve been pushed in incorrectly & there are marks from the tray tabs on the booklet. This isn’t going to bother me unless they’ve caused a heck of a lot of damage. You also get water-damaged ones - best avoided, but if they are valuable ones & it’s just a bit of moisture (not everything stuck together), buyers don’t seem to mind. The real issue with CD packaging is the darned boxes. You can have lots of little imperfections with vinyl packaging, but in most cases, if it’s there, it looks broadly OK. CDs, however, were blessed with the dreaded jewel case, one of man’s worst inventions. To be fair, these are easily replaceable, & do generally do the job of protecting what’s inside, but they are also seriously maddening. They often get cracked, not that that is usually a big deal, but the worst is the hinges breaking off - they are really delicate. I have so many sat around here that I sometimes only have to move my chair around slightly to have another few to replace. About as annoying are the teeth which are meant to keep the disc in place - you can often open them straight from the factory & half of these are already broken off or flattened. Arguably better, but still flawed, are digipaks (the ‘softback’ of CD packaging) - these look way nicer to start with, but (as the tray is glued into the card), if the teeth go, it somewhat ruins the effect, & they are a bit prone to getting rubbed & scraped & little tears. I’m starting to think about putting my better ones in PVC slips. Far too late in the day, the industry eventually came up with super jewel cases, which are basically the same design & size as jewel cases, but much more robust (particularly around the hinge areas) & feature the latest in a long line of attempts to improve on the teeth. To be honest, I have relatively few of these, so the jury is still out for me, but they’re certainly better than what came before. Either way, as mentioned above, jewel cases are pretty much interchangeable & therefore easy to replace (it is more the number that need replacing after a while that is irritating) - some of the majors did do their own branded ones, but it is subtle & they did enough that these aren’t hard to replace either, if you are so inclined. I’ve never seen anyone arguing the toss over what generation of jewel case is on their expensive second-hand CD purchase, although I can imagine that coming in the future.

CDRs are a separate thang. A brilliant format to start with (wow, home recording artists can cheaply make their own releases, as with cassettes, but you can skip to individual tracks), they have turned out to be rather temperamental. To be fair, I have been examining mine a bit in recent times & it does mainly seem to be very early ones from certain labels (ie certain makes of machine) that have died, & even if they don’t work in players anymore, they sometimes still rip (or vice versa) - this is also the case with skipping CDs in general. A lot of the stuff that has died was by people who are still around, loading stuff up on Bandcamp etc, so it isn’t the end of the world but (as with breaking delicate 78s), it is a bit galling when they go, although some collectors don’t even seem to mind, they just want the item for posterity. If you’ve got lots of CDRs you haven’t ripped at high quality, especially early ones, it might be time to get them done if still possible.

VALUE?

There are, of course, plenty of CDs which are rare, although it is limited numbers compared to vinyl (which, as well as being generally agreed as more attractive, has a much longer history). The sort I see going for extreme money are one-offs (studio discs of work in progress etc), or box sets, or very obscure but trendy stuff, but there are plenty of second hand ones around at old CD prices (£10-15): if you imagine picking one of them up in every fifty 20p CDs from charity shops, it helps keep things affordable. I suspect some very early CDs might be worth money (although I’ve not seen much evidence of it in ones I’ve had, & would note that some of the early reissues have quite poor sound quality, obviously transferred from vinyl ‘needledrops’ rather than master tapes). I generally have a look at pop ones from past the mid-2000s, as sometimes these weren’t done in very long runs & can be worth at least enough to keep my hobby going, although it does vary (the golden rule is to only buy stuff I’d happily keep if it’s not worth anything). Certainly you see a lot of more recent promo ones by people who went on to be big going for inflated prices on Discogs, although this may wane over time, as they fall out of favour. The most valuable CD I own is the first Sleaford Mods CD(R), picked up as I think one of the last copies, just as they were about to go big. The most valuable I’ve picked up from a charity or junk shop is a donk double mix CD (!), but that’s only worth 50 quid, so you’re not going to make your fortune here BUT YOU ARE GOING TO PICK UP LOTS OF INTERESTING MUSIC YOU’VE NEVER HEARD BEFORE.

[country-corner]

Our daughter came over the other day to help us do some more packing of the house, she said she would bring everything we needed. When she got here, all she had was one big box of 55gal trash bags.

Her mom asked about packing boxes and our daughter replied, "Well, you have too much stuff so we should just throw it out. Let's start with the those shelves." Which was filled with real china head dolls that, since we got married, every year I have been buying her mom for her birthday, our anniversary and Christmas.

When we said no we're packing those. Our daughter wanted to move on to my hat collection, some of which I've had since Jr. High and I wear every one of them at some point of the year. Nope, we are keeping those.

Ok, then she wanted to move to the file cabinets in my office. Saying there's no need to keep all those owner/repair manuals for the equipment in the garage and barn. Or all the documents I've collected over the years on how to build crossbows, atvs, hovercrafts, tractor implements, kids peddle cars and backhoes, ect, ect, ect... Nope, keeping those because at the new place I'll have my own sawmill and a bigger wood shop so I can make and sell these items.

In short, she wanted to throw out everything that we hadn't used in the last 30 days. Including our winter clothes, because we can buy new after the house sells. I know we didn't raise her to be this wasteful. And if we do get rid of something, it will either be sold at a yard sale or given to a charity, not just thrown away.

We just finally had some dinner and she left with nothing done. I picked up boxes today and we started doing the packing ourselves.

[purplesurveys]

1630

Describe your hometown. What’s it like there? Very urbanized and convenient; everything you need is a quick drive away. But as urbanized as it’s gotten, I think it also lacks culture. We have one museum and the nightlife isn’t felt because even though there are many(!!!) independent cafes and restaurants, the quality of food is super so-so that people don’t really linger here. It’s convenient enough that I could probably live here for the rest of my life if it can’t be avoided; but of course I do want to move to Metro Manila sometime just so I can get a taste of how Actual City Life is like.

What did you do yesterday evening? I FINALLY reorganized my closet and got rid of the clothes I either wanted to throw out altogether, or hand over to Reena so she can sell them (she was recently scammed a ridiculous amount of money :( and I had volunteered to let her sell some of my clothes), and am just glad I finally got it over with because I had been putting it off for months lol.

Right after that I had a corndog and mac and cheese, watched the newest Suchwita episode with Tablo, watched a few old Return of Superman clips because said Suchwita episode made me miss Haru, and then spent the rest of the evening watching Cong’s vlogs.

Are you comfortable with leaving the house without any makeup on? That’s what I do every single time I leave the house anyway, unless the reason I’m going out is a work event where I have to be more dressed up than usual.

Do you have any expensive hobbies? It’s not technically a ‘hobby,’ but being a K-pop fan is definitely expensive. A bulk of my salary went to merch until BTS went on hiatus, then these days it’s been all about saving up for Yoongi’s tour (my friends and I have since decided we’re going to shoot for Bangkok tickets!) and supporting the boys on each of their solo activities, like albums and such.

What length do you like to keep your nails at? Short, or at least up til a certain length where it’s not bothersome when I type.

Have you ever felt physical pain in a dream? Yeah. Very rarely though.

What is the oldest online account that you still use? That would be my Twitter which I’ve had since 2010, but that account isn’t even my first; I had an even older one that I made in 2008 but ended up deleting since I wasn’t active in that fandom anymore.

Have you ever had Christmas carolers come to your house and sing for you? Yep that was commonplace at the duplex we previously lived in because we lived close to the entrance of the subdivision, which made it easy for the carolers to get to us. Where we live now we’re SUPER far from the main gate so we’ve never had to entertain any carolers anymore.

Do you know anyone whose family has lived in the same house for…3+ generations? Yeah Angela lives in an ancestral home.

What was the last video game you beat? ...In the Seom, if we’re counting that? Hahaha I always want to beat the weekly updates so that I get to be caught up with the latest storyline.

What’s your favorite Studio Ghibli film? Grave of the Fireflies.

What did you learn from your last failed relationship? The moment you feel as though you have to ‘fix’ the other person, just turn away and leave.

What country does your favorite band hail from? If we’re being loose with the definition of ‘band,’ South Korea.

What’s something on your to-do list that never actually gets done? Driving to Tanay to go to this Thai place that I’ve been wanting to check out for months. The driving route just seems so risky haha.

Have you ever been really passionate about something but then lost interest? If so, what was it? Yeah, reading. I just don’t really do any of it anymore. < Yeah, same. I went from smuggling novels to school to struggling to get past a chapter. But then again I feel like my relationship with reading is also just an evolution of preferences – for a long time I thought I grew out of reading when it was really just realizing that works of fiction stopped being my thing. I still like to read and enjoy non-fiction and essays the most, but I definitely am not as passionate in general as I used to be.

Do you sleep with the TV or the radio on? I don’t have to sleep with the TV on but it has happened in the past. It literally did just last night.

What’s the worst thing about being male/female (whichever you are)? Being a constant target of harassment; the discrimination; the unnecessary pressure to find a husband and have kids.

What movie has the best special effects? Considering the period in which it was made, 2001: A Space Odyssey.

How many work hours per week is too much for you? 70, which is basically working until midnight for five days straight. I’m used to OTing in my line of work, but I think consistently having to stay up until midnight would so quickly crush my soul.

What habit is essential to your daily life? Going through social media before I go to sleep.

What is your favorite documentary? Jiro Dreams of Sushi.

When did you last have a vision test? In 2021 when I was getting new lens for my glasses. I need to get a new prescription though :((

What do you typically eat for breakfast? I just prepare a cup of coffee and that alone is usually what gets me through the day.

What are three things you need to do tomorrow? Relax, have fun, enjoy the remaining hours of the weekend.

[moemoemammon]

Following that "least favorite" request could we get their reactions to being to told that they're their favorite, but to not tell the other brothers so their feelings don't get hurt? Maybe because they relate to them the most or just get along really well. Thanks!

You're My Favorite! But Don't Tell the Others-

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

There are no words to explain the overwhelming satisfaction ion Lucifer’s face after you tell him that. Of course, it’s only natural that he would be your favorite, all things considered.

The Avatar of Pride won’t ever forget this moment. He carefully considers your words and agrees not to tell anyone, as much as he’d love to bring it up, because he knows more than anyone what kind of chaos would ensue should the others (especially Mammon) find out.

But they can tell something’s up when the eldest has been heard humming all day. He moves about the house with even more grace than usual, and hasn’t scowled even once.

But the REAL shocker was when Mammon tried hiding a bill right as Lucifer walked in... and the eldest let him off with a warning. A WARNING! The brothers thought the Devildom must’ve frozen over, but you and he knew different.

“MC, I would like you to accompany me to Le Pluvier this afternoon, once you've finished your studies. I've already made reservations, so be sure to get ready on time. I've made sure to consider the things you might like to eat, so I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Don't be late." "...I'm grinning? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mammon

The gigantic grin on Mammon’s face is so bright, it could rival the sun. You’ve seriously made his day. No, his year. Actually, he’s pretty sure he could ride this high for the next millennia! There’s nothing in this world that could dampen his spirits right now! 

He feels like he just won big at the casino! Of course he’s your favorite! He WAS your first demon, and now he’s gone and claimed his rightful spot as your number one! Good luck trying to keep him from saying anything. Mammon’s gonna throw it around in everyone’s faces for as long as he can milk it.

And you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he treats you after hearing that. Despite always calling you his ‘servant’ or his ‘human’, you’d  think your roles were reversed. Mammon spoils you every chance he gets, buying you clothes and trinkets, filling the spaces in your room with the things he knows you like, monopolizing you completely until nearly everything you own is a gift from him.

Your words also help soothe that jealousy of his a little. Only a little, though. It’s easier to watch you talk to other demons when he knows he’ll always be your first man.

“Didja really have to stay after class that long? I know you were talkin' to that demon that lent you a book, but you outta ask ME for stuff! Tch... you're lucky I'm in a good mood today! But I guess I don't have to worry about some low level demon like that, seein' as I'm your favorite!"

Levi

Wait wait wait....Come again? Did you seriously just say what he think you said..? That had to be a mistake! Some kind of...uh..verbal typo! Because there’s absolutely, positively, NO WAY in all of the nine layers that he could be your favorite demon. And yet you still insist that you’re telling the truth, and Levi feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. 

Red faced and stammering up a storm, Levi looks like he might die. Is it really okay for a shut-in otaku to feel this giddy? Seriously, he hasn’t felt like this since he got his hands on a signed copy of a Ruri Hana audio drama! No no, this definitely beats that!

You’ve managed to inflate his nearly nonexistent ego, and now he feels like there’s nothing he can’t do! Maybe he could even go to Majolish right now?? THAT’S how good he’s feeling!

Almost as bad as Mammon in keeping it a secret. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, but they’re suspicious when they notice how much time he’s spending out of his room. And then when he and Mammon get in another petty argument, he drops the bomb that he’s your favorite demon in the entire Devildom, and you can guess how things go from there.

“Uuuoooo...!!!!! I've decided..! Since I've got a serious stat buff, I'm going to open a booth at the next convention coming up..! I'll sell my Ruri-chan fan art and spread her influence all over the Devildom! I'd never have the guts to do it normally, but I feel like I could do anything right now! Y-you'll go too, won't you MC?"

Satan

You nearly made this man spit tea all over his book, and now he’s coughing and spluttering and trying to figure out what could’ve prompted what he’s taking as a confession. You.. do realize what you’re saying, don’t you? And you know the kind of effect your words have on him?

Satan isn’t the type that wears his heart on his sleeve, so you have to look for his subtle expressions to tell how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing subtle about the redness of his ears and how he’s begging you not to look at him right now. For the sake of his sanity, give him a minute to recoup.

When he does recover, he agrees to keep it a secret for obvious reasons. And it’s hard to tell that he’s in a good mood, other than the fact that he hasn’t tried to pull any pranks on Lucifer lately. But Asmo sees all, and literally hounds him into spilling the tea.

He tells him a lie of course, but now the other brothers are noticing just how happy he is. Satan's smiling way too much today, isn't he? And he didn't even get mad when Beel got whipped cream on his jacket! Well, not THAT mad, anyway.

"Haaah... everyone's been harassing me all day, claiming I'm smiling a lot. I'm sure I look the same as I always do, but I'll admit that I've been happy ever since you told me that this morning. Wait.. you did think I've been grinning too, do you? I have??"

Asmo

Asmo always jokes about being your favorite and announces it as if the two of you are married, but when you actually confirm that his longing for you isn’t one sided, he ends up smearing lip balm across his cheek in shock. Did you... really say that just now? He knew it all along, but hearing it like that is just...!

Ooooh, he’s so happy he can hardly contain himself! Asmo throws his arms around you, peppering your face in kisses until you feel sticky from lip balm, wipes your face clean, then marks it up all over again. Good luck getting rid of him, because he might never let go.

Immediately posts it to Devilgram. Did you really think he’d let such a momentous occasion go unannounced? You must not have been paying attention to the kind of person he is! Asmo would put you on a pedestal in front of the world like a precious jewel if he were able, but this’ll have to do. He won’t hide his love at all!

Of course, the others don’t take too kindly to it, not that he cares. He never leaves your side, pampers you like crazy, and has even attempted to get you to move into his room. Lucifer put an immediate stop to that, though. Boo...

“I just can't get enough of you, MC! Just being near you gets me so excited that I can hardly stand it! You'll take responsibility for what you're doing to me, won't you? And in exchange, I'll take my time showing you just how much I love you. After all, you're my favorite, too!"

Beel

Beel never has a problem with choking while he eats, and it comes as naturally as breathing. Unfortunately neither of that applies right now, since you just made him choke on a meatball sub.

He usually takes your words with quiet acceptance, but this might be the most emotion you've ever witness from the stoic demon. His eyes are wider than that time that laid on an entire gingerbread mansion, sparkling up with such deep emotion you wouldn't be surprised if he cried. Instead he softens up and immediately embraces you.

...And doesn't let go. Sandwich long forgotten, he's been carrying you around all day, and ignoring any questions or protests from his brothers. Also insists on feeding you throughout the day. The food tastes better when he can enjoy it with you, so why not just bring you everywhere?

When he isn't carrying you, he's following you around subconsciously, either close up against you like a protective wall, or just far enough that you're within his line of sight. As far as not telling anyone, he... tells Belphie immediately. It was an accident though, since there's not much he keeps from his twin.

"MC, I won a meal ticket for Godevil Chocolatier. Let's get something for dessert today. Ah, you can get as much as you want, too. I really want to see what things you choose. They might become my favorites."

Belphie

There's nothing in this world that can wake Belphegor from his sleep, unless he allows it. No loud noises, no amount of shaking or smacking, and not even dragging him around the house. But the moment you whisper that he's your favorite demon, the Avatar of Sloth is wide awake.

Hey, you're not just saying weird things to get a reaction, are you? Because if so, this is a new level of cruel. Yet you confirm that you mean it and swear him into secrecy, and Belphie tries his best not to show how happy he is. A smile keeps creeping up on his face that he struggles to force down. It's annoying...

As funny as it’d be to tell everyone the news, he's good at keeping secrets. Instead, you've noticed that he's been sleeping a little less that before. When he does take one of his hundreds of naps, he finds some way to be closer to you. He's even been seen sleepwalking to your exact location somehow-

It's hard for him to believe that you're not teasing, though. How could HE be your favorite demon here? Belphie doesn't do anything special to win you over, yet after everything he put you through, you like him enough to deep him your favorite?

"You're weird, MC. I mean... me? I won't deny that I'm really happy though, but I guess I'm in disbelief. You should spoil me even more until I believe you. Lend me your lap for a few hours, okay?" "...I wonder what Lucifer would think if I told him, heheh."

[eddie-sweetheart]

Dream Blunt Rotation

Eddie Munson sells weed. Occasionally, he consumes it too - and, when he does, he makes sure to find the best blunt rotation companions that Hawkins can offer.

Or, your boyfriend Eddie is hiding at Hopper’s cabin and you find him getting high with Jonathan and Argyle.

Tropes: Eddie x female reader, smoking weed, Eddie being high.

Warnings: Drug use (duh), swearing, fluffiness. Minors DNI!

Word count: 4.2 k

Author’s notes: This was surprisingly hard to write - I had the concept very clear in my mind, so it all came down to figuring out how to write the interactions, reactions and personalities of the characters and I was afraid to fuck it up lol but here it is! Hope you like it!!

🌹 Masterlist 🌹

August, 1986. Indiana is scorched by one of the most intense heatwaves of the decade. People are spending most of the time locked inside their houses, half-dressed in front of electric fans set on full speed, or soaking their sweaty bodies in large suburban pools, whose water is never fresh or clean enough, but it really doesn’t matter. Anything is better than enduring the unusual heat that’s been plaguing the whole state for weeks now. 

And that’s good news. With everyone finding refuge from the hot weather either inside or near any body of water they can find, all the streets are mostly empty, except for the occasional car driving towards the nearest ice seller in the neighborhood - and the same is true for the small town of Hawkins. Sure, no one’s really been casually going out and about since spring break and the strange earthquake that has ripped the ground open, but the heatwave has managed to discourage anyone who hasn’t left or moved somewhere else from venturing outside and risking a bad case of insolation. 

With the streets empty and deserted, you and Nancy Wheeler can easily take the road that leads to the woods without being seen or recognized. Keeping Nancy’s Station Wagon windows rolled down doesn’t help much - whatever slow, summer breeze is blowing outside, it doesn’t cool down the inside of the car, which feels like a burning oven. However, with the AC broken and no mechanic left in Hawkins to fix it, feeling the air blow it’s an illusion of freshness worth keeping.

The car finally slows down as you reach the beginning of the path leading into the trees, the roaring engine falling silent after some mechanical sputtering. You and Nancy get out and around the vehicle, shiny rivulets of sweat running down the sides of your reddened cheeks as you lift the trunk cover. 

Two big, brown paper bags are crumpled up in the small space. They feel heavy as you both lift them up, holding them close to your chests so that they won’t break under the weight of their content.

“Got it, Nance?” You ask your friend as she slams the trunk closed with one hand, balancing the bag in her other arm.

“Sure, thanks” Nancy smiles, throwing one last look at the empty road behind you to make sure no one’s seeing you. “Shall we go?”

You nod happily, and you both head into the woods. The first fallen leaves that are scattered on the earthy ground crunch under your shoes as you walk along the path, the hot sun rays filtering through the branches of the trees above you. It’s cooler here, in the shade of the forest, but the weight of the bags and the long walk makes you sweat anyways - as soon as you’ll reach Hopper’s cabin, you think, you’re going to get rid of the button-down shirt you’ve so stupidly worn over your top. 

You and Nancy keep walking for another ten minutes or so, exchanging only a few, almost-whispered words in order not to attract any eventual passer-by’s attention and to stay alert to your surroundings, each crack or movement making your head snap around. 

Once you get off the beaten trail, tall, wild weeds start caressing the skin of your naked legs, the occasional spiky branch grazing the hem of your tennis skirt. Luckily, no harm comes to you (except one little scratch on your left thigh) by the time you finally catch a glimpse of the small wooden cabin through the thick trunks. 

“About time” Nancy groans as you make your way up the short set of rotting stairs - the only part of the building that you and your friends still haven’t fixed despite your efforts to make the place livable once again. “I’m literally melting here”. 

She waits patiently behind you as you fumble with the door handle. Once you manage to get a hold of it without letting anything spill from the bag, you fling the wooden door open - and a gust of a strong, herbal scent hits your nostrils as soon as you step foot into the room.

Hopper’s Cabin has undergone a lot of changes in the past few years. From a barely livable shed mostly used to store boxes full of old, random things, to a small, two-room home where Eleven spent most of her time watching tv and eating Eggos, to an abandoned building with a few holes in the ceiling after the mind flayer attack, it transformed and adapted to what you and your friends needed, without ever losing its main function: being a safe space.

And it was exactly the safety of it that made Hopper’s cabin the most reasonable choice when it came to deciding where to hide Eddie Munson.

Resident metalhead and guitarist, super senior, soft drugs dealer, Dungeon Master, alleged murderer and most wanted man in Hawkins, Eddie sure had a lot on his plate after the whole Vecna thing, whose unexpected and terrifying events (cue Chrissy’s murder, the satanic panic frenzy, the double trip to the Upside-Down, the earthquake) still haunt you and your friends to this day. Thankfully, now that Jim Hopper is back from the dead and working with the authorities, the chances of Eddie being able to prove his innocence in the matter of the Spring Break killings have drastically improved - but you all agreed that in this case an angry, unknowing mob could be more dangerous than a special forces squad that has been informed about what’s really going on beneath Hawkins’ surface.

This means that Eddie has spent the last few months surrounded by the same four wooden walls, which yes, is totally boring and “fucking exhausting”, as he usually says - but it also means that for a while he doesn’t have to worry about the plethora of labels that have been stuck to him. Except for one, which luckily happens to be his favorite: your boyfriend.

You and Eddie love each other to bits. It started long before Vecna, in the Hawkins High corridors and noisy cafeteria, in the woods behind the school and on long walks at sunset in the suburbs. It was a love that bloomed naturally and intensely, a love that was blind to prejudice and the cruel social conventions that ruled the microcosm that is high school - a love that the latest events have only made stronger and more resilient. Sure, you have your differences and arguments like any other healthy couple, but yours is a special bond that inevitably makes butterflies flutter in your stomach every time you’re about to see him - just as it’s happening right now.

You’ve been meeting Eddie at the cabin every day since he moved there, sometimes with one or two of your friends to help you with the groceries refill - this week, it was Nancy who offered to come. These daily visits have turned out to be a great excuse to have some alone quality time together, in spite of it being a forced stay; your company and weed are the only things keeping Eddie sane right now, as he likes to remind you almost all the time, and judging by the strong smell and faint layer of smoke that are pervading the living room as you and Nancy step inside, today is a lucky day, as he’s getting them both.

However, you soon realize that the company might actually be already covered.

“Eddie, we’re here!” You call out as Nancy closes the door behind you, but your eyes widen in surprise once you notice that, indeed, he’s not alone. 

“Argyle?”

“Yoooo y/n, ‘sup?” Argyle replies with a wide, red-eyed smile from the old, tattered sofa, where he’s sprawled next to a definitely stoned Eddie.

Eddie turns his head around and once his gaze meets yours, a loved-up grin slowly creeps up on his lips. If his pupils were dilated before you entered his vision, now they have turned to two dark pools the size of coat buttons.

“Sweetheart” he says, throwing one arm over the backrest of the sofa, his metal rings catching the sunlight that’s peering through the curtains as he moves his hand towards you, “c’mere. I missed you”.

Even if Argyle’s presence definitely took you by surprise, you can’t help doing a double take at Eddie, a faint blush arising on your cheeks as you catch a glimpse of him from behind the sofa. The fan that’s moving back and forth in the corner of the room doesn’t help much with the high temperatures of late summer, which are making Eddie’s skin glisten with a faint layer of perspiration, somehow defining the muscles of his arms and torso exposed by his favorite Metallica t-shirt - whose sleeves have been replaced by two giant holes cut by Eddie himself, just as he did with the short sweatpants he’s wearing. 

His hair is slightly damp, probably from a recent shower, and it tickles your cheek lightly as you lean down to him to plant a soft kiss on his open lips, briefly tasting and smelling the weed - which brings your focus back on Argyle, your mind trying to do the math: if today is Tuesday, wasn’t he supposed to take the flight back to California with-

“Jonathan?” Nancy echoes you as soon as she notices her own boyfriend emerging from the kitchen on your right, barely balancing a small plate filled with chips and a bowl of eerily brownish guacamole.

“Nance!” He exclaims, almost losing his balance as he stumbles towards her and clumsily places a soft kiss on her cheek over the grocery bag she’s still holding. “Surprise! I’m still here!”

You and Nancy exchange a stunned, speechless look before she snaps back to reality and starts throwing a million questions at Jonathan, who has now taken his place back on the sofa, next to Argyle.

“Why aren’t you at the airport?” Nancy interrogates him as she places the paper bag on the kitchen counter before standing in front of the three of them, hands on her hips as she blocks the sight of whatever TV program they were watching. “You’re going to be late, and you’re going to miss the flight, and then what will Joyce-“

“Dude” Argyle warmly interrupts her, palms up as he keeps smiling at her, “you can totally chill. My man here is not catching any planes aaaany time soon”.

You place your own bag on the kitchen counter and get rid of the sweaty button-down on top of your t-shirt in silence as you and Nancy try to make sense of what Argyle has just said - while you also wonder why he’s just referred to Nancy as “dude”. 

“Nance” Jonathan intervenes, throwing a mouthful of chips and guacamole in his mouth, “we’re staying. My mom doesn’t want to leave Hopper, and El and Will hate the school in Lenora, plus there’s the whole earthquake thing… so, yeah, we’re staying”. 

Nancy looks bewildered for a second, then her expression finally relaxes and warms up. “Really?”

“Really” Eddie, Argyle and Jonathan exclaim in unison as rivulets of thick smoke curl up in the air from a huge joint sitting in the ashtray on the coffee table.

“I, uh- that’s great” Nancy says with an unexpectedly timid smile, taking a few steps towards Jonathan and leaning down to carefully kiss him back on the cheek, trying to avoid all the chip crumbles that are scattered on his lips. “I was kind of hoping for it”.

“And guess what, Wheeler” Eddie adds, slapping his palms on his naked thighs and interrupting the fond gaze between Jonathan and Nancy, “our friend Argyle here is staying, too” he declares, placing one hand on Argyle’s shoulder, an unhinged grin plastered on his lips as he shakes the long-haired guy back and forth. 

“Sure I am” Argyle confirms, nodding just a few too many times as he grabs the joint from the ashtray and takes a long drag, “My mission is to convince my boss to open a Surfer Boy Pizza here in Hawkins”.

“Good luck with that” Nancy replies, heading back towards the kitchen to help you put away the groceries; by now you’ve both realized that it’d be useless to ask the others to collaborate.

“What’s the difference between this Surfer Boy Pizza and normal pizza?” Eddie asks, gesturing wildly with one hand while he grabs the blunt Argyle is offering him with the other.

“Dude, are you kidding?” Jonathan replies, passing his weird-looking snacks over to Argyle, “you’ve never had a Surfer Boy Pizza?”

“Never been to California, man” Eddie states, his voice a little hoarse as he puffs out some smoke. 

“They have it in Nevada too, my dude. You’re welcome to any state, just say your old friend Argyle sent you - I’m sure there must be a discount or shit. And be ready to taste the most amazing pineapple pizza you’ve ever had in your life” Argyle explains, “and if you want it at home, we deliver it hot to your door”. 

Eddie nods enchanted, his curly and now almost completely dry hair bobbing up and down as he passes the joint over to Jonathan. 

“And the vans, man” Jonathan adds with a dream-like tone, “the vans are incredible. They are so big inside, and run faster than you think. And the surfboard on top? You can see it coming from a mile away”.

Back in the kitchen, you and Nancy exchange a startled look.

“Guys” you exclaim, unintentionally slamming the cupboard closed with a bang, “how exactly did you get here?”

Three heads spin around and three pairs of reddened eyes look at you two with wonder. 

“We drove” Argyle replies, his wide smile still glued to his lips. 

“We walked” Jonathan says at the same time, throwing a confused look at his friend. 

“Multitasking. Shit, that’s crazy” Eddie absentmindedly exclaims, crossing his hands behind his head and leaning back on the couch, his shirt slightly riding up and exposing his happy trail. 

You take your eyes off of him (not without some degree of difficulty) and you address the other two with a worried look, mirrored by Nancy. 

“Guys” you slowly begin, making sure that they understand your every word, “did you drive here with the pizza van? Because if you did and someone saw you, we might be compromised”. 

Eddie almost jumps up from his seat then, going from a relaxed resting moment to hissing a million “shit shit shit” as he frantically looks back and forth between Jonathan and Argyle - but Argyle himself interrupts him immediately. 

“Chill, dude” he explains, adjusting his baseball cap backward, “we obviously thought of that, so I came up with a great idea”

Jonathan nods enthusiastically, a single drop of sweat glistening on his forehead - whether it’s from the tension or the summer heat, you will never know. “Great idea, yes. Genius, really” he chips in, apologetically smiling at Nancy. 

“We drove the van into the woods” Argyle explains, now directing his grin at you, “then left it among the trees, veeeery well hidden, and we walked the rest of the way”. 

Silence fills the cabin once again as you quizzically look at the stoned trio. Eddie slumps back into the sofa with a relieved sigh, accepting the blunt Jonathan is handing back to him and taking another long drag, while Argyle is still smiling at an undefined spot somewhere between you and Nancy. 

“You better hope it worked” Nancy finally states, pointing a finger at the boys before turning around and going back to the groceries, shaking her head in amusement and surrender. 

“Jesus” you sigh, grabbing the last items from your bag and putting them in the old fridge, “those three together are a real menace”. 

“You bet” Nancy replies, “but there’s not much we can do except keep them as they are. And minimize the damage, of course” she concludes with a smile, neatly folding the two paper bags and putting them away in a drawer. 

“Got to agree here” you reply, pushing yourself up to sit on the counter after grabbing a round carton box you’ve left out on the table and two big spoons. “Ice cream?”

Nancy flashes a big smile at you, taking one of the spoons you’re offering and leaning against the counter beside you. “Yes, please” she exclaims as you open up the box. You both start eating, occasionally eavesdropping on the conversation that’s being held a few feet away. 

“I’ve just had an idea” Eddie exclaims, dropping the half-smoked blunt in the ashtray and sitting up straight as if he’s about to make a whole speech. “If you leave the pizza van here in the woods, we could be… neighbors” he tells Argyle, who slowly nods in appreciation.

“Yeah, dude, that’d be so cool” Argyle replies in awe, “we could renovate the whole thing, put on some fairy lights…”.

You and Nancy hold back your giggle at the thought of Argyle setting up twinkling lights in his pizza van. 

“And we could put the old sofa we have in our garage out in the front” Jonathan adds, stealing the last chips from the bowl still sitting in Argyle’s lap.

“Shit, that’s perfect” Eddie exclaims, his mischievous smirk back on his lips as he looks at the other two with a gaze full of complicity, “we could spend the nights out in the woods, with a fire and shit. Smoke, maybe, and play D&D”.

“When did you become such an outdoor person?” You call out at Eddie with a smirk after a spoonful of ice cream. 

Eddie slaps one hand on his chest, right over his heart, looking at you with a wounded grimace from the couch. “You wound me, princess” he exclaims with a pout, “you know I miss the fresh air”. 

“Fair point, sweetheart” you concede, and his smile immediately comes back to light up his face at the nickname you used. 

“What’s D&D?” Argyle asks, and you, Nancy and Jonathan immediately roll your eyes. 

“Heeere we go” you mutter, going back to your ice cream, but you can’t help a smile from creeping up on your lips as you catch a glimpse of Eddie’s passionate and excited gaze at the mention of his favorite game. 

“It’s like, the best game ever, man” Eddie states before solemnly clearing his voice. “Dungeons and Dragons. A game for brave adventurers, for those with unbounded imagination, a world of fantasy and magic that will turn you into a heroical knight, or a cunning thief, or an evil wizard”.

Argyle stares at him in awe, his eyes dreamily following each movement of Eddie’s hands. Even Jonathan has stopped eating, his mouth agape and his attention completely grabbed by Eddie’s theatrical recounting of the game’s rules. 

“Shit, dude” Argyle eventually exclaims, elbowing Jonathan in the side once Eddie’s finished explaining how a campaign works with a satisfied final declaration of D&D’s many qualities, “you’ve never told me about this stuff. It’s sick as fuck, dude”. 

“That’s because I don’t play” Jonathan simply replies, “but Will and Mike do”. 

Argyle shakes his head in disbelief before addressing Eddie again. “Dude, we have to play” he eagerly proposes, “when the van is set. It’s perfect, man, and we could set the mood with some of my special Purple Palm Tree Delight. Shit, that would be so incredibly cool.”

“I’m in, man” Eddie agrees, offering his hand and grabbing Argyle’s in a tight shake. “We need to start thinking about the campaign”. 

“You could go for aliens this time” Nancy jokingly suggests as she places her spoon in the sink, “change it up a bit”. 

“Woooah” Argyle laughs in surprise, “aliens? We can do that?”

Eddie solemnly nods. “Sure as hell. We can do whatever we like. We can have aliens, or dragons, or ghosts even. Maybe” he continues, standing up and starting to pace around the room, making you almost see the little gears in his brain running and working, “we could have a village that needs to be saved from monsters coming from the sky. Nobody knows what they are, or why they are there, and maybe there’s a princess hidden in a tower that knows the secret to fight them” he explains, and slowly his gaze moves in your direction as he continues the story he’s creating.  

“A princess whose hair catches all the sunlight and the moonshine, whose eyes are the color of the forest, whose voice is heard singing every day at sunset, and whose heart is made of all things sweet and golden”. 

He utters and mumbles all those words with his reddened, watery eyes locked on yours, and once he stops talking everyone is looking at you as well. You blush lightly and try to casually look away as you climb down the counter and wash the ice cream stickiness off of your hands in the sink. 

“Dude” Argyle says, his brows furrowed as he moves his gaze back and forth between you and Eddie, “did you just describe your girlfriend?”

Eddie’s face suddenly turns purple, and as you try to hold back a chuckle - the result of a mix of amusement and slight embarrassment - he starts stammering with no sense whatsoever. 

“No!” he exclaims, but he bites the word back as soon as it’s out. “No, I mean, yes, but uh, not really - like, shit, yeah she might be a little similar to y/n but uuuuh… god, okay!” He finally admits, surrendering to Nancy’s unimpressed stare, “okay, yes, y/n is my muse. I admit it. She’s beautiful, and inspiring, and I love her very fucking much.” He admits, and his unease slowly turns into… pride? 

“I mean” Eddie adds, moving slowly across the room towards you, wavering a bit as he walks, “have you guys seen her?”

You blush timidly as he leans against the counter beside you, slipping an arm around your shoulders. “I mean, for this little one right here” Eddie states, his loved-up, big eyes staring down at you, “I could plan a thousand campaigns and write a million stories”.

In spite of the summer heat that’s pervading the cabin, you shiver at the touch of Eddie’s skin on yours. Feeling his body beside you never fails to make your own feel a certain kind of way, and you try your best to hide it behind a casual expression - without much success, however, as you can't help but stare back at Eddie and get lost in his eyes, the strong scent of weed now close, intoxicating and… exciting. 

“Okay, guys” Jonathan awkwardly intervenes with a cough as he, not without difficulty, stands up from the couch, “I think it’s best if we go now”. 

“Yeah, uh, right” Argyle echoes him, getting up as well and making his way towards the door while mumbling his goodbyes. 

“Not so fast” Nancy interjects, quickly putting herself between them and the door. “Keys, please. I’m driving you two home”.

Argyle looks at her, confusion clouding his face. “But isn’t the van home? Like, next door?”

You chuckle out loud this time, and even if Nancy is trying to stay as serious as she can, you can spot the same laughter behind the curve of her lips. 

“Not yet, dude, sorry” she replies, extending her hand and flexing it twice, motioning to Jonathan to hand her the keys to the pizza van. 

After a few tries, as he first hands her his headphones and then a battered lighter, she finally gets a hold of them and turns towards you for one last time. 

“Behave, you two” she half-jokingly states as she points a menacing finger at you, but the flicker in her eyes and her soft smile easily chase away whatever seriousness is left in her for today. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n?”

“Sure. Thanks for helping me with the groceries, Nance” you reply with a single nod and a grin, leaning just a little more into Eddie’s side. 

With a final goodbye, your friends leave the cabin, Argyle throwing one last wink in your direction as he closes the door behind him - and now, you’re left alone with Eddie. Finally, you might even say. 

“Sooo” he begins, cornering you as he turns to face you, his arms at your sides with his hands flat on the warm surface of the counter, “we should behave, huh?” He asks you with a smirk, his long hair tickling your neck as he leans down to kiss your exposed collarbone. 

“Yeah, I think so” you reply, your voice already strained as his lips move up to meet yours in another sweet, sloppy kiss.

“I guess that Wheeler won’t mind us not wasting the good stuff then, right?” He then continues, almost in a low whisper as he nods to the now smaller joint that’s been left in the ashtray. 

“I think that’s quite responsible, yes” you nod in agreement, matching his mischievous smile as he scoops you up with a swift motion and brings you to the couch, ready to spend the rest of the day with his dream blunt rotation - you. 

—♥︎—

Hope you enjoyed this one shot :) Feedback is always welcome!

[admirableadmiranda]

As ridiculous as the cliff scene in cql might be, I actually enjoy the emotion of it. It also works for the utter disdain LWJ and JC harbour for each other post resurrection, which I enjoy even more, ngl 😌 Like LWJ literally refuses to acknowledge JC's existence up until he throws an ugly tantrum in the ancestral shrine at LP Lmaooo

I actually quite like the cliff scene too! The one thing I don't love about it is how we got there, as Wei Wuxian never strikes me in the book as someone who would want to choose death and the show doesn't change him enough to give me that impression, his strength to survive is just too mighty.

But once we're actually at the scene I really love it! The quiet heart-wrenching music, Lan Wangji desperately holding onto Wei Wuxian even though he is clearly out of strength and bleeding badly from his arm, every emotion bare on his face as he fights to keep Wei Wuxian in the world; Wei Wuxian's quiet contentment even though he knows this is the end that at least someone still alive wants him to live. He is not pulling himself up, but he isn't fighting to make Lan Wangji let go either. He's caught in the moment between living and dying, standing on the edge of the blade.

Then Jiang Cheng's full descent into villainy as he first tells Wei Wuxian to die, then attempts to get rid of both of them by going for either the fragile rock beneath them or Lan Wangji's arm, only for Wei Wuxian to choose Lan Wangji's life over his own. Where in the end it becomes not a suicide, but Wei Wuxian deciding that in this world, he wants Lan Wangji alive more than anything, using his remaining strength to throw himself free.

The way the music surges and swells, the way he falls...eyes closed and smiling, the last thing he sees is Lan Wangji's face, Lan Wangji crying after him, looking utterly devastated... it hurts so good.

And yeah, it really sells why Lan Wangji absolutely hates Jiang Cheng, refuses to have anything to do with him, I'm honestly surprised Jiang Cheng made it to when Wei Wuxian came back after that and that's honestly probably just because Lan Wangji had more important things to do than removing him from the world. It still makes total sense in the book, but there's something about the visual impact of the utter dividing line between the two of them where Lan Wangji got to see Jiang Cheng's utter betrayal and will hold that grudge to the end of time that I still really appreciate.

CQL does some really odd things with its story and characters. But this scene I still really like.

[blinderspeaky]

Amoret | Tommy Shelby

A/n: So this is my first piece of writing here and I apologise if it's too long! idk how accurate this is but I had fun writing it so that's all that matters I guess

Cora is going through a dry spell because everyone is too scared to make a move on her because of her best friend, Thomas Shelby, so he takes matters into his own hands -- literally.

Word count: 23,450

"I can't believe you did that." I flirtatiously giggle as if I didn't have to scrub my hands raw to get rid of the blood from the gory mess that happened just a few hours prior.

"I needed to get out somehow, I just didn't realise I was trashing hundreds of pounds worth of art." The handsome stranger laughs, leaning into me as we get more familiar and comfortable with each other.

"Terrible, just terrible." I smile fondly, my red lipstick gleaming at him as I fiddle with my fruity cocktail.

"I must say, you have the most gorgeous smile, if I knew how to paint I'd never run out of inspiration as long as you're around." The man charms and I have to suppress an eye roll.

What does a girl have to do to just get a bit of pleasure round here?

I'm not here to be charmed, I'm here for a fun time.

"Thank you, you really know how to charm a girl." I say, crossing my leg over the other, so that my leg is in between his legs from where he's sat on the bar stool.

"Only the pretty ones." He replies, pushing the little curled bits of hair framing my face behind my ear-- the rest of my hair is placed in a delicate low bun, pinned back with expensive pins. He rubs his knuckles against my cutting cheek bone, seemingly admiring my face. "It's unfair how beautiful you are."

"What are you gonna do? Kiss me about it?" I make the first move.

He smirks. 

"Thinking about it."

His eyes flicker between my eyes and my lips, and he's about to lean in when a voice interrupts.

"Cora." Tommy says as he walks up to us. "I'm going to head back to my office, I'll see you later to finish business, alright?"

"Yeah, just you?" I question, staring up at my best friend.

"Yeah, Arthur's pissed in the back room, thought I'd let you know, but everyone is still here." Tommy answers, giving my shoulder a squeeze.

"See yous." I sing, ready to turn back to my entertainment tonight.

"Bye." Tommy says and gives the handsome stranger a once over before leaning down to say something into my ear. I'm used to his teasing and he's used to my punches after, so I let out a huff, ready to hear what he has to say this time. "Careful, I've heard this one bites."

I look into his eyes with an annoyed look. "That's why I'm here."

Tommy lets out a quiet chuckle before wordlessly leaving the building, leaving me with the pretty boy.

Looking back at the stranger, I'm startled to find him wide eyed and inching away from me by the second.

"What?" I ask, taking a sip from my drink.

"That was... that was Thomas Shelby." He says, frozen.

"So?" I lift a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"He's a Peaky Blinder."

"So am I, yet you've been talking to me just fine." I state, knowing where this is going; this has happened way too many times recently.

People know of me but most people couldn't put a face to my name, which is why this happens a lot. I'm ready for the onslaught of rejection and a hint of terror.

"You're a Peaky Blinder?" He utters as if he can't believe it.

I nod.

"I've gotta, uh, go, have a nice evening but I must get going." He says and quickly gets off his stool to rush out of the room, practically tripping over his own feet.

Letting out a huff, I finish my drink before hopping off my stool to join everyone in the back room, everyone is more or less smashed, a slur of half hearted cheers go around room when I enter and it makes me smile. I sit down next to Finn, who offers me a cigarette, which I accept and light it up, tilting my head towards the ceiling showcasing the thin, long scar on my throat, I blow the smoke out, watching it billow towards the ceiling.

"Why are men so scared of me and Tommy?" I grumble.

"Because they know if they fuck up, either of you will rip their spleen out, darling." Polly comments, her slender fingers twitching her cigarette to drop off the ash. "Individually or together, doesn't matter." She adds.

"Match made in heaven... or hell, depends how you look at it." Michael states before downing his drink.

"How do you do it?" I ask Polly, taking a drag of my cigarette.

"Well, for starters, I'm not as ruthless as you and I guess I'm not attached to the hip with Thomas." She replies nonchalantly.

"What you need to do, right, Cora, is find a man who is handsome and can take a good punch." Arthur tells me and I raise an eyebrow at him. "Because whoever it is, he's gonna get punched by someone you know and by punched I mean shot."

"No one is bulletproof, Arthur." I say, not taking on his drunk advice.

"I am." John laughs.

"No, no you're fucking not." Finn retorts.

"How do girls not get scared of you guys?" I question, fiddling with my necklace. "On an extremely good day you guys can look intimidating and scary, how do you get girls?"

They all scoff at my teasing.

"Fuck off, alright." Arthur grumbles, knocking back another glass.

"The girls like the thrill. They come from a very traditional family and want a part of the danger but they also think they can change us." John answers my question seriously.

"Never fucking works though, does it?" Finn barks a laugh, nudging John.

We continue to chat for a while before I get bored and I'm still slightly pissed off about earlier, so I say my goodbyes not that anyone's really listening, too drunk to function so I slip out and step out into the brisk chilly streets of Birmingham.

Twisting and turning until I get to my destination, I open the door with the key I've had for literal years and brush my shoes off before stepping inside, closing the door behind me.

Making my way through the room, I wordlessly open Tommy's office, finding him sat at his desk going through paper work, cigarette in hand; he looks up, dropping his pen but goes back to his work.

"You're here earlier than I thought." He states, his tone light.

I huff, mad at him although I know it's not his fault.

"Same." I reply tightly, throwing my bag down into the little seating area in the corner of his office before I sit down in the chair opposite him.

"You don't have to be here, I can do this on my own, you know. I'm not forcing you to be here." Tommy replies in a sincere voice, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"I know, but no one wants me out there." I counteract, leaning back in my chair, a sour look on my face.

Tommy looks like he wants to ask but decides against it; he knows when I'll come around.

"Right, uh... so I talked to some connections and they said they know about the plans but are refusing to tell me any details, and I'm debating with either paying them a visit or selling their information." Tommy informs and just like that I'm back into business mode again, forgetting about my interaction from earlier.

Then we talk about business, business plans, plans for the future, and just random things whilst having a laugh.

As things are winding down, Tommy gets up to grab a drink from his own bar cart that he has in his office.

"Do you want one?" Tommy offers, looking over his shoulder at me.

"Sure." I accept and he gets another glass out, beginning to pour our drinks. I sink into my chair, rubbing my eyes as I let out a groan. I'm still bothered about earlier.

That guy just rubbed me the wrong way, it's happened plenty of times before tonight; I'm best friends with one the most notoriously dangerous person in the midlands, I guess tonight was just my breaking point.

If I saw him again, I wouldn't hesitate to send a few promises to him.

"Fuck, how come you can be a manwhore but I can't even get a single person to be interested in me for more than 20 minutes?" I question, accepting my glass from Tommy when he approaches me.

"Long enough to get the job done though." Tommy jokes, sitting down in the chair next to me, our feet hovering above one another where our legs are crossed. "I think it's a little thing called misogyny."

"Little thing my ass." I bitterly chuckle, taking a sip. "You're at fault for all this, by the way."

"The fuck did I do?" He asks with a light laugh, before taking a sip of his drink.

"You're the reason all these people get scared to either even approach me or go any further than some harmless flirting." I explain, tucking some hair behind my ear as I send him a look that only widens his smirk.

"Not my fault people are so delirious with terror when it comes to me." Tommy shrugs, placing his glass on the table beside his chair and he laughs at my disbelief.

"Yeah, because you definitely didn't put on a show at the garrison last month that we're still finding blood from." I roll my eyes fondly.

"Got to show my enemies what I'm capable of." Thomas brushes my words off. "And hey, it's not like you're innocent yourself. Didn't you destroy a guy's face so much they the police couldn't even identify him just a few days ago?" He teases, licking his lips.

"No, doesn't ring any bells." I shake my head.

"Funny, maybe that's why men are scared of you and won't approach you. I for one, am absolutely terrified of you." Tommy states, making me laugh knowing that's he's only half joking.

"Most people can't put name to my face so they generally don't know me, therefore it's your fault." I tell him, placing my drink on the matching side table next to me.

"Really?" He sighs

"Yes! Just earlier tonight I was talking to some guy and then you came along, Mr. I will cut someones ears off if they look at me, and you scared the bejeezus out of him, turned him into a puddle of foolery. Then I told him I'm connected to you and he freaked the fuck out, made an excuse to leave and he practically tripped over his own feet to get away from me." I reply grumpily, sitting up in my chair.

"Are you done?" Tommy asks, sending me a look.

"No, no I'm fucking not. I've not had sex in like 2 months, do you even know what that feels like? Most of the time it's not even me, it's you that scares them off!" I answer exasperated, watching him down the rest of his drink, placing the empty glass back on the table.

"No, I don't, actually. Why don't you just go outside of Birmingham for a fuck?" Tommy suggests, leaning forward on his knees.

"Fuck you. Mate, I've fucking tried and if we weren't literally sewn together that might work but everywhere I am, you are, vice versa. It's also such a faff to go all the way out or Birmingham for some dick that's probably mediocre. You ju---"

I'm cut off from my rant by Tommy's lips on mine.

I'm so confused and stunned by his actions that I don't know how to react. Freezing, I just sit there for a moment before I decide to kiss him back for a few moments before I pull back sort of abruptly, not in a big deal.

"What are you doing?" I question, searching his crystal clear blue eyes that are mere inches away from my face.

"If everyone else is so scared of me that they can't approach you, may as well take matters into my own hands." Thomas explains, and he gingerly cups my cheek, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone, his eyes soft.

I lean in closer to him, thinking over how this could play out, what it would do to our years long friendship.

It's no secret that we find each other attractive, we've said it to each other and everyone around us, but I can honestly say that nothing has ever happened between us. Two best friends that have expressed our admiration for each other.

I don't know if I want to ruin that.

Our friendship is incredibly strong and personal, I don't know if one steamy night could just throw that away.

My desire acts on it's own and as Tommy is searching my green eyes, I close the gap between us, moving in perfect sync with each other as I play with his hair and he squeezes my waist.

It's like I'm slipping into a trance and all I can think of is Tommy, I'm consumed with all things Tommy. This moment right now is making me feel lighter than air, I've got sparks on my stomach at how he's making me feel.

The burning need to be closer is killing me and it seems like Tommy is feeling the same as he uncups my cheek and places his hands on my waist, pulling me onto his lap.

Thomas agonizingly slowly trails his hand up my thigh, his fingertips grazing my exposed skin where my dress has risen up, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Tommy's hand comes in contact with the pocket knife stuffed into my stocking and he pulls away slightly, letting out a low throaty chuckle, "Classic Cora." He mumbles against my mouth, making me smile, and he pulls deadly weapon from my stocking, placing it on the table beside him. Giving my hip a momentary squeeze, Tommy swipes his tongue against my lip asking for entrance, parting my lips, his tongue meets mine and he begins to explore my mouth, seeing what gets a reaction from me.

His fingers find my precariously placed tied up hair, pulling the few pins out and then the hair tie, sending my thick, dark brown almost black curls cascading down my back, causing Tommy to let out a sound of appreciation and bury his fingers into my hair.

I don't usually have my hair down as it's easy to grab on to and it just feels more professional to have it up. I've also got so much of it that it gets in the way when I'm trying to work.

Disconnecting from Tommy I attach my mouth to his neck, leaving my mark. Tommy tilts his head, giving me space to find his sweet spot and he lets out a nice little moan as I set to work.

The pending feeling of his hand trailing my thigh is overwhelming and his fingertips approaching where I need him the most makes me pause, my bottom lip dragging up the skin of his neck.

"Do you want me to stop?" Thomas whispers into my ear, his pursed lips tugging at my earlobe.

"Fuck no." I consent, and his hand meets my underwear.

Beginning to confidently rub me through my underwear, I let out a shaky breath against Tommy's neck and I instinctively open my legs wider for him. His touch is as light as a feather, desperate for more friction, I grind on his fingers letting out a moan.

"Mm, sound so good for me." Tommy rasps, his teeth grazing the skin on my prominent collarbone. Moving my fancy lacy underwear to the side, without hesitation Tommy runs his fingers through my folds, collecting my wetness and bringing it up to my clit.

All I can do is bite my lip to conceal my moans.

Trailing my hand down his front until I meet is trousers and I begin to palm is growing semi, which makes him let out a groan.

I declare that as my favourite sound.

Suddenly in one swift motion, I'm moved off of Tommy's lap and placed right on the edge of his hardwood desk and he's standing right in front of me, his gorgeous blue eyes blown out, looking at me as if I were the only person in world, and he's hungry.

"You're really pretty." Tommy utters.

Before I can reply, Thomas captures my lips again in another sensual kiss that's full of tongue, noises of appreciation, and hands are roaming as we keep involuntarily grinding against each other.

Pushing his suit jacket off and watching it drop to the floor, Tommy's hands find the back of my dress, making quick work of undoing the expensive fabric, and pulling it off of me, leaving me in my lingerie that I definitely didn't plan on letting my best friend see tonight whilst he's in his trousers, crisp white shirt, and extortionate looking waistcoat.

"Wow." My best friend says, slightly out of breath, taking in my figure and how off guard and innocent I look.

Unlike the brutally violent and devious businesswoman I am.

"Unbelievable."

"Shut up and touch me." I chuckle bashfully, weirded out at how special he's making me feel.

I feel extremely exposed but in a weird way, I kind of like it.

Tommy smiles fondly and presses a series of short kisses to my mouth before I take hold of his lip, flicking my tongue against him, causing him to tighten his grip on me.

Disconnecting, Thomas kisses down my neck, leaving a mark or two on his way down, until he gets to my chest and I arch into him. Kissing my cleavage as he cups my right boob, his lips trail down my torso, leaving a trail of fire behind him.

Dropping down to his knees, Tommy takes hold of my hips pressing a gentle kiss below my belly button before he snaps open my garter one by one and effortlessly drags my stockings down my legs.

Grazing up my legs with his hands or mouth, Tommy after what feels like years pulls my panties down, throwing them out of sight, I watch as his eyes light up and if possible I feel even more exposed.

Flicking his eyes up to me, looking like he's asking for my consent, I brush my fingers through his hair and give him a subtle nod.

Burying his head between my thigh, Tommy licks a strip up my heat, making me let out a moan, and bury my fingers into his thick hair.

Leaning back onto his desk, Tommy pushes my thighs apart so he can get better access as he attaches his mouth so my core, sending me to all sorts of heaven.

"Fuck, Tommy." I whine, tugging at his hair as I arch my back.

"Let it out, we're here alone, scream my name, let me hear how much you want me." Tommy urges with a slight smirk.

Without any warning, Tommy pumps a finger into me and I conform to his wishes at that, not caring how loud I was being, I let his name fall from my lips along with my moans.

My legs shudder under his hand, he lapped at me as if I were his last meal, reveling in the sounds I was making, the sounds he was earning.

I was close and we both knew that, so Tommy speeds up his movements and adds another finger inside of me, curling up.

"Fuck, oh my god, Tommy, don't stop." I pant, tugging at his hair.

Tommy had me withering in moments, my fingers tugging at his hair which made him groan, only adding to the pleasure he was giving me.

"Fuck, I'm gonna---" I began which only spurred Thomas on, he sucked harder and pumped his fingers faster. My breathing hitched and shaky, breathy, and loud sounds left my lips as I clenched around him, my body shuddering from the orgasm he'd worked out of me.

He continues his motions making sure I'm done, then pulls his fingers out, standing up right, brushing some hair out of my face.

"Such a pretty girl." He whispers, eyeing my lips.

Tommy's thumb runs over my bottom lip and I open my mouth, he brings his fingers that were inside of me to my lips, and I stick my tongue out and he inserts his finger into mouth, letting me suck my juices off of his fingers; his eyes seemingly in a trance at how my mouth is working.

"Mm, just like that." He whispers.

Standing up to my full height, I guide Tommy to swap places with me and he's very much willing to do so, peppering kisses to his jaw before dropping to my knees, I innocently look up at him through my lashes, loving how he's so aware of all my movements and how he's like putty in my hands.

"May I?" I raise an eyebrow, digging my fingertips under his belt.

Tommy leans down and cups my jaw, pressing a deep kiss to my lips. "Of course." I grin in delight and snatch a quick kiss as he begins to retreat.

Undoing his belt, I take that off and throw it away before undoing his button and pulling down his zipper. Palming him through his undone trousers, Tommy lets out a hitched breath, it's a barely there pressure, enough to feel something but no where enough as much as he like.

"Stop teasing." He groans, bracing himself on his desk and his knuckles are milky white from how hard he's holding on to his desk.

I chuckle darkly. "Tommy, I haven't even started."

Continuing my actions mixing up my pressure and pace as he throws his head back in annoyance.

Pulling him out of his underwear letting him spring free, Thomas groans when I grab him, making my mouth water. This sight alone could give me immense pleasure.

The sight of me on my knees in front of him, him practically fully clothed with his dick out, just calling out for me to suck, all whilst in the middle of his office.

With my best friend let alone.

I would love to tease him for hours but the overwhelming urge to hear Tommy moan, moan my name and pull my hair gets the best of me.

Tightening my grip on him, I wrap my lips around his tip that's already leaking precum, sucking lightly, which makes him throw his head back in pleasure.

"So pretty, such a pretty cock." I utter, licking his entire length and wrapping my mouth around him.

"Fuck, Cora." Tommy gasps, threading his hand in my hair to keep me there, and I let out a hum, causing him to tighten his grip on my hair as he lets out an estranged moan.

Taking as much as I possibly can into my mouth, I begin to work my magic, pumping whatever I can't with my hand whilst Tommy breathes heavily and lets out his moans above me.

The sight of him with his head thrown back as he moans my name whilst he half heartedly guides me with his hand, too lost in the pleasure to properly commits to it, is ingrained in my mind.

We're completely lost in the moment, right now it's just him and I, there's nothing else in our mind except lust and each other, and I'm alright with that.

"Oh my... fuck, I can't l---" Tommy cuts his pleasured rambling off and lets out a large breath before pulling me off of him. "I wanna finish inside of you." Tommy states breathlessly.

I wordlessly stand up, more than willing to conform to his needs and begin to undress him, his hands pulling off his clothes as fast as he can until he's completely stark naked in the middle of his office with his best friend.

Realising I've still got my bra on, I undo the back and pull the straps down, watching it fall the floor.

Tommy and I stand in front of each other, completely enamoured with each other, feeling extremely exposed but I like it.

"Gorgeous." Thomas whispers before pressing his lips to mine, gingerly holding my face in his hands.

Thomas guides me back a few steps to his desk and I prop myself upon it, as Tommy's hands roam.

Taking hold of himself, Tommy runs his tip through my dripping folds, the both of us letting out a shaky breath.

"You ready?" Tommy questions, tucking some hair behind my ears before pressing his forehead against mine.

"Mhm." I hum, running my hand down his back.

Capturing my lips in a quick kiss, Tommy lines himself up with my entrance and pushes in until he's done to the hilt.

"Fuck." We say in unison, making us breathe a chuckle.

Beginning to move his hips, Tommy buries his face in my neck, dragging his mouth wherever he pleases, exploring my skin. I hold the back of his neck, trying to stay afloat as my toes curl, and we're too far gone to care when expensive things fall from Tommy's desk.

***

"You should wear your hair down more often." Tommy tells me softly as he's propped up on his elbow looking down at me as I lie on my back, settling into the fairly large seating area Tommy has in his office.

"It's so long, it gets in the way." I pout, rubbing my eye.

"I like it." He sincerely says, picking up a lock and twirling it around his finger.

We're have gentle pillow talk without the pillows, just looking at each other in a different way as we lie in our underwear in the warm room, talking in quiet voices as if the whole world could hear us.

"I like your hair, very imaginative." I tease, combing his locks with my fingers.

"Rude." He grumbles, poking me in the side making me jerk as I let out a laugh.

"When you first get it cut it feels like velcro." I chuckle, making him grin.

"Yeah, I've just got the worst barber." Tommy smirks, playing with my fingers.

"Bitch." I laugh, ruffling his velcro like hair.

Every other Sunday Tommy sits in my kitchen letting me cut his hair as we bitch about business or just forgetting about work altogether.

"Talented at your craft but the most annoying barber I've ever met." He shakes his head, amused.

"I tell you each time, I don't mean to tickle your neck or catch your ear, it just happens." I defend myself, making him laugh.

"I don't mean to stab you, it just happens!" Tommy imitates me, making me poke him in the ribs which only makes him laugh harder. "If only people knew of your barbering skills and not your knife wielding skills, maybe they wouldn't be so scared of you."

"If only people knew of your sewing skills, they wouldn't be so scared of your gun ridden hand." I retort with a fond smile, looking up at how pretty he looks in this light, with the small matching fond smile of his face.

"Shh, or I'll tell people you are a professional at juggling." Tommy smirks, pushing some hair out of my face.

"Yeah, with knives, that's cool as fuck." I reply, passionate about my talent.

"Careful or we'll send you away to go to the circus." Tommy chuckles, pulling me in for a smiley kiss.

I've always been known to wake up really late, always the last one up, the last one to finish breakfast if at all, and always the last one out of the door in the morning. It's not that I stay out really late, I'm usually at home at a reasonable time, I cosy down in my homely home, and I just relax after the usually hectic day and yet I still wake up late.

Except today.

I wake up tangled in a mess of limbs, Tommy's arms wrapped around me and I suck in a breath, wishing on everything in the world that he doesn't wake up. Easily slipping out of his grasp, I sit on the edge of the large ottoman, rubbing my face before letting out a sigh.

I need to get dressed and be out of here before Thomas wakes up, I do not want to have the awkward conversation of the morning after.

Quickly and quietly, I put my dress back on, throw my hair up as I approach the window, pulling one of the slats down to see what it's like at this ungodly hour of 5 in the morning, the Sun is just starting to rise, highlighting the permanent haze of smoke above Birmingham.

Shoving my ankle boots on, I tug the zips up and tip toe towards the door so that my heels don't click against the wooden floors.

Closing the door behind me as silently as possible, I let out a big breath when I succeed and begin to walk out the building that I visit everyday.

I know I'm going to see Thomas again in just a few hours but hopefully we'll both be consumed in work to talk about what happened. God I hope no one will pick up on what happened.

I don't regret last night at all and I can say that with my whole chest but I also love my friendship with Tommy, and I hope one night of mind blowing, amazing sex won't ruin that.

I've no idea where we stand and that scares me.

That's my best friend, he'll always be my best friend.

Opening up the door to my house that I never got to see last night, I begin to tidy up a few things as I've got some time before I have to head into work. This is my haven, this is wear I escape work, I try not to bring business back here, this is my safe place so I have to have it clean.

Shoving an old newspaper into the bin, I begin to make a bite of breakfast and head into my bedroom whilst it cooks so I can get properly dressed.

Pulling my wardrobe open, brushing my fingers over the hangers until I find a suitable item a clothing; a navy blue dress that gives the illusion that it's off the shoulder but it's got a see through mesh-like material hanging from my shoulders with tiny multicoloured flowers embroidered into it, it's cinched at the waist but it's got a wavy extra bit of fabric above my chest, the length is slightly longer than I usually go for as it's inches shy from my ankles, whilst I usually go for just below the knee dresses but I like it.

Just about being able to do it up myself, I pick out some appropriate shoes with a tall heel as I'm surrounded by a lot of men so I hate being the shortest person in the room.

Plus Tommy is quite a bit taller than me and he always teases me for that, so I use my heel to either kick him in the shin or step on his toes.

Gently brushing through my hair to make sure it doesn't frizz up on me, I throw it up in an intricate low bun, leaving some large parts out to frame my face.

Going back downstairs to fetch my breakfast which I eat whilst I read this morning's paper, before I head out of the door.

***

"Well I'll say, this has got to be a first." Arthur laughs, leaning back in his chair as I enter the betting shop.

"Wow," Polly starts, looking at her watch bewildered. "Only 45 minutes late."

Even though I got up at the ass crack of dawn, I'm still late as I may or may not of got preoccupied with the book I've been reading recently and then I got caught up chatting with some people on my way over here.

"I usually expect to see you at around 10 or 11." John smirks, taking his cigar out of his mouth.

"What can I say? Don't get used to it." I say, my eyes flickering towards Tommy's office where he seems to be as of now and I can't help by think about last night.

"It's almost as if you're acting professional and playing by the rules." Polly sarcastically replies, hovering above Arthur.

"Never." I shake my head, placing my bag on my desk then hanging my long coat on the coat hanger.

"Tommy's in a bad mood, so watch out." John jokes, swinging in his chair.

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow, looking at him.

"Well, he's not really in any mood, he's just brooding in silence and doesn't want to interact or talk to anyone." Polly rolls her eyes,making her way over to her own work station. "Maybe you can sort him out." She adds, with a small smile.

Doubt it.

"I've gotta get my forms so I have to interact with him." I huff and brace myself as I open the door to his office, I've never knocked before so I'm not gonna start now.

"Good morning." Michael greets me, sitting in the chair that Tommy kissed me in.

"Morning." I say back, my eyes flicking up to Tommy who's not taking his eyes off of his work in front of him.

"Do you even know what this time of day looks like?" Michael teases, and I roll my eyes.

"Don't worry, Michael, she's been up for hours, I'm sure Cora loves the sunrise." Tommy states before I can even think of replying to Michael.

I glare at him as he leans back in his chair, lighting up his cigarette not even looking at me.

If he wants to be hostile, I can always beat him at that.

"Practically pulled an all nighter, was busy with a piece of work." I tell Michael but my words are aimed at Tommy, and I'm right because Tommy can be a piece of work when he wants to be.

Tommy just exhales his smoke and looks at me devoid of any emotion as I refuse to look at him.

"Should've asked for a hand, I'd of been more than willing." Michael says, completely oblivious to Tommy and I's quips.

"No, couldn't do that to you." I wave him off. "Anyway, I only came in here to get my forms." I say, finally looking at Tommy in the eyes, waiting for him to give them to me as they're in his drawer.

He just stares at me, his cigarette burning in his hand, seeming like there's a million words in his head that he wants to say yet absolutely thoughtless at the same time.

"Run along then, Michael." Tommy says as he hands Michael a file, which Michael wordlessly takes and exits the room.

Letting out a huff, I walk around his desk and crouch down next to him to open his bottom drawer.

"You're a twat, Tom." I grumble, grabbing the wad and standing up.

"No what you were saying la---" Tommy gets cut off by me slamming the stupid forms on his desk and the grabbing his own gun from his holster and pressing it below his jaw as I hold his throat, pushing him back in his chair.

"Finish that sentence, I dare you." I prompt him, looking at his slightly taken aback eyes. "You know I'll do it."

He stays silent, clearly picking up on my vibe.

Putting pressure on my hands one last time before throwing his gun into his lap, gathering what I came in here for and leaving his office.

Tommy and I bicker all the time, disagree on extremely menial stuff but we only properly argue very occasionally but we always come around in the end because despite everything we love each other but god can we get on each other's nerves.

Not that I'd call that an argument, that was just a warning.

"We knew you weren't a morning person but fuck Tommy must've pissed you right off." Arthur laughs, as he chalks some stuff up on the big blackboard.

"More than you'll ever know." I grumble, and begin to get to work.

***

As the Sun sets, people start clearing out of the building as they finish their work, singing or grumbling a goodbye over their shoulder as they go home to their family or lonesome house. I could only dream of clocking out as I've still got a load of work to do and not even the kind I like, it's all admin and menial things that need to be done but I wouldn't consider it fun by any means.

It's kind of nice in a funny sort of way, it's dark outside and the lights are on illuminating the room with a soft glow, there's a slight patter of rain on the windows and it's just relaxing and quiet.

It's giving me a moment with my mind to think things over as I pretty much work on autopilot.

I know Tommy is still here, I can see him through the glass doors to his office, clearing extremely concentrated on whatever he's doing; I wonder if his mind keeps drifting back to what we did on his desk just last night.

I don't what to say to him, he's giving me the cold shoulder, refuses to talk to me unless it's necessary, and I just don't know where we stand. I don't know what I want to come from last night, I'm really happy with where we are right now and although I had - arguably - the best sex of my life last night, not much can come between our friendship.

I felt something that night, Tommy made me feel so special and like I was the most important person in the world to him, and I couldn't deny that those feelings.

Letting out a sigh, I drop my pen and grab a cigarette, placing it between my lips before I search for my matches. Striking a match, I tilt my head back and as I'm bringing the flame to my cigarette my eyes catch Tommy leaning against the doorway to his office, staring at me.

I pause for a moment before lighting my cigarette and waving the match out as I exhale.

"You look really pretty when you concentrate." Tommy states and if there were another person in here I don't think I would of been able to hear him.

"I don't do it often so you're welcome." I reply, never one to take compliments. "But thanks." I bashfully add.

"We both know that's not true." Tommy smiles ever so slightly.

"You look really pretty when you smile." I reply, taking a drag from my cigarette.

Tommy steps down the few steps and approaches me.

"Cora... what's going on?" Tommy asks, turning the chair beside me around so he can sit on it backwards, his arms folded on the backrest.

I look down, not sure what to say or where to look or how to react.

"I don't... I don't know." I say quietly, almost ashamed to admit. I'm always in control of a situation, I know the ins and outs but this time I have no idea where I stand, what's going on and I'm definitely not in control; neither of us are.

"Do you regret it?" He questions and I look at him properly.

"No, I don't. I can honestly say that I don't regret it." I answer sincerely, and a shimmer of relief speeds across his eyes. "Do you?"

"No. It was great and you don't regret great things." Tommy replies after a few moments, watching me stub out my cigarette. "But... I was hurt that you left before I woke up." He hesitantly adds, as if he doesn't know how to put his words together.

Neither do I.

Looking around the room as I try to gather my words, I can feel his bright blue eyes boring into my side and its quite unnerving.

"I didn't know what to say to you. Tommy, you're my best friend, you have been since year 9, we've gone through so much together and I can always rely on you ---you've always just been my best friend. Then suddenly when I get rejected by some twat who's scared of either women in general or the fact that you are my best friend and you decide to kiss me and then things escalate, things change. For good or for bad I don't know." I try to just put some of my thoughts into words.

"You could've left a note, woke me up if you really needed to go, silently got dressed with me and then we parted ways, anything... anything other than wordlessly leaving. Everything stopped, I slept a full night, I didn't have any messy dreams, I woke up rested, then when I saw you weren't there with me, none of that mattered anymore." Thomas explains with a small shrug, his eyes burning for a conclusion, a cohesive answer, anything.

"Only because you had company, female company no doubt." I state, sending him a tired look. His face is illuminated by the standing lamp behind me, highlighting his slight frustration, hurt, and confusion.

"No, I'm almost 100 percent sure it's not just female company. When I got back from fighting and I was having my night terrors, I'd call you up and you'd come sleep in my bed, and you'd help me fall asleep again and at least help with my dreams. When I was using you'd demand that we share a bed because you knew that I knew that you hated it. You've always helped me sleep." Tommy insists, leaning forward in his chair.

"I was just being a good friend, Tom."

"I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend or to marry me, I'm just saying I sleep better with you around. I don't know what I want to come out from this or where we stand but please promise that at the end of the day we'll always be best friends." Tommy pleads, grabbing my hand, clasping it with both of his.

"We'll always be best friends, Thomas. No matter how mad I am at you or you at me, I'll always be there for you." I assure, squeezing his hand with a small smile. "I hate not being in control, my whole life I've always been in control, had a grip on things, and just knew the ins and outs of every situation, then suddenly I don't it scares the living hell out of me, Tom. I don't know how to react."

"I'm not asking you to, I'm just as confused and lost as you are, I don't know where we stand or how to be normal again." Tommy says, his eyebrows raised. "I don't know what I want to come from this, but I know I'll always want you around."

"Same, always." I tell him, looking deep into his eyes. "I've gotta go, Tommy, I'll see you tomorrow." I lie, I've still got a load of work to do but if Tommy keeps looking at me like he is now, I'm not going to be able to make it out of here without my hair a mess.

Standing up, I push my chair back in and take a step away before Tommy says something.

"You can't keep running from your problems."

I pause, turning to look at him.

"Sorry?"

"You can't keep running away from things that you can't solve in 5 minutes." Tommy expands, looking up at me. He looks uncertain, as if he doesn't know how I'll react.

Keeping my gaze on his for a split second more before I swiftly bend down to press my lips against his, cupping his cheek. He seems surprised and stills for a moment then eagerly kisses me back, his hand also on my cheek.

We kiss for a few more moments until I pull back slightly, our faces inches away. "Watch me." I whisper, looking into his stormy sea of blue eyes, and my eyes flicker down to his lips before I stand up to my full height.

Taking a step back to make my move out of here but Tommy suddenly stands up straight and grabs my hand before I can escape and pulls me into him, immediately cupping my face with his soft hands and softly crashes his mouth to mine.

Without any hesitation I kiss him back, wrapping my arms loosely around his neck as I slowly relax into him. Tommy pulls me impossibly close to him, feeling every contort of his body, his hands steadily trail down my back as I work my mouth against his.

Once again, Tommy pulls my hair out of my hairband, letting my wild locks bounce free around my back. He buries his fingers into my curls whilst his other hand wonders, feeling my waist, hips and ass.

I press my hips against his and he leans against the nearest desk, he lets out a moan at the feeling of my hips and I take advantage of that so my tongue can get reacquainted with his.

Last time it was slow, hesitant touches, taking our time but this time it's eager, fast moving, and hungry.

I let out a moan when Tommy flicks his tongue against mine, completely lost in the moment; I can feel that I'm losing myself in him, his touch, his mouth, his mind. Disconnecting, Tommy attaches his mouth to the sensitive skin on my neck, dragging his lips up to the sweet spot below my ear.

The fast that he knows that fact sends me reeling over something so silly and simple, but it wakes me up.

Immediately I push myself off of him, taking a few shaky steps back with wide eyes. He looks shocked, his blown out eyes shining in concern, and he takes a step towards me.

"Co---"

"No." I shake my head. "We can't do this, I need to leave." I blurt out and make an exit, not bothering to pick up my coat on the way out as Tommy calls after me, but I slam the door on him, blocking out his voice that's always been comforting for me.

***

"Turns out it was just a fluke then." Polly teases, lighting up a cigarette as I enter the building.

"Seems like it." I agree, glancing at the clock, seeing it reads 10:45.

"Who's this raven haired beauty walking in?" A familiar voice asks, and I look to my left to see Ada proudly sitting on the closest desk to me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, not being able to help the grin on my face as I approach her, pulling her into a quick hug.

"Thought I should come up as I haven't seen everyone in a while, and you even longer." Ada explains, and it's true as the last time she came up I was busy visiting my family that live down south.

"Well, it's great to see you again. Did you bring Karl?" I question, and as I'm looking at her I can't help the guilt that tugs at me as I slept with her brother just a few nights ago.

"Yeah, he's busy making a mess in Tommy's office with Finn." She answers, folding her arms.

"I'm sure he'll look forward to finding that." I smirk. "Is Tommy here by the way?" I ask curiously, hanging my bag up along with my coat, next to the coat I left here last night when I made a hasty exit.

"No, something happened at The Garrison or something and he had to go sort that out." Ada informs me, sending me a quizzical look when I let out a sigh of relief.

"Michael said someone got too rowdy and fired some shots at someone, no ones seriously hurt but Tommy went to go sort it out." Polly says, walking towards us creating a trio.

"When did your hair get so long?" Ada asks fascinated, her slender fingers coming up to grasp a few loose curls.

"I've not seen you without your hair up in what? Two years, maybe?" Polly comments, also looking at my hair.

"I just didn't have time this morning to do it, rolled out of bed, parted it and left." I tell her, running my hand through it.

"Didn't have the time? It's nearly 11 o'clock and you're only just strolling into work." Ada exclaims with a laugh.

"It took me ages to get to sleep, and I need my 8 hours." I retort, the reasons I couldn't get to sleep need to remain a secret.

Her damn brother.

"And just because you're you Tommy won't get mad. If any of us are more than 20 minutes late, Tommy will act like a child." Polly roll her eyes.

"How do you do it?" Ada asks genuinely.

Suck his dick apparently.

"I simply just show him my knife and he does whatever." I joke, with a smirk. "Hey, it's not like you have to be here at 8 or 9 on the dot, you're all founders of this company, you have just as much of say as that dumb fuck."

"True, but you can't deny that Tommy will throw a fit if we're late, where as you..."

"What can I say? Shelbys love me." I tease and leave the room.

It's just pushing 3 pm when Tommy walks into the room again, the first time I'm seeing him since I freaked out last night. It's been a busy and chaotic day so far, people coming in and out, I had to go deal with someone who wasn't paying up which got a bit messy, then I had to catch up on all the things I didn't do yesterday after leaving prematurely, and to do that with a messy head on top of that is difficult.

Tommy searches the room as he continues to walk through the room until he finds me. "You, my office." He points his finger at me and then towards his office doors.

"No?" I shake my head, quirking my eyebrows.

"It's fucking business that's all." Tommy huffs from across the room, giving me a slight glare before looking down and heading towards his office.

Pushing my chair out, I let out an even bigger huff than Tommy's and stand up, meeting him at his office doors. Our eyes flicker over each other extremely briefly before he opens his door and lets me enter first.

We both stop short at the sight of a man sitting in the chair opposite Tommy's desk.

"Who's that?" I whisper to Tommy, neither of us taking a step further.

"Mr Parsons, wants business with us." Tommy briefly tells me before moving forward. "Good afternoon, Mr Parsons."

"Ah! Good afternoon, not that good in a place like this." Mr Parsons states, looking up at Tommy as he goes to sit in his desk chair.

"Good afternoon." I greet and sit down in the chair next to him.

"Oh, a woman, a pretty woman that is." He comments with a weird smile of his face.

I send a quick look to Tommy who looks just as speechless as I am. "Thank you, business --- what can we do for you?"

Ever since I joined The Shelby Company Limited all those years ago Tommy's always asked me to join in with meetings. Not entirely sure why if I'm honest, he's always said and I quote 'you give me a level headed opinion', whatever that means.

"I need protection, I've recently moved to this shithole and I've heard that you so called Peaky Blinders are the best people for the job." Mr Parsons states, intertwining his fingers over his chest.

Tommy and I share a look at his choice of words.

"What do you need protecting?" Tommy questions, leaning back in his chair.

As Mr Parsons answers Tommy's question in his unique way of vocabulary, I take a good look at him. He's probably at the higher end of middle-aged, a full head of black hair growing white, a rather slim and tall build, well dressed, a thin greying moustache, and a sinister smile. He's not unattractive but there's something just off about his face.

"We will definitely look into that, Mr Parsons, we'll need to assess the situation ourselves first." Tommy says, gesturing with his hands.

"This pretty lady, I hope of course." He gives me a grin, and I grip the arms of the expensive chair to stop myself from showing him what I really think of him.

"No." Tommy bluntly tells him. "My brother will."

"That's a real shame." Mr Parsons sighs and looks at me as if I were his last meal on earth. "I must say, I think it's really great that you have so many women working for you."

"First of all," Tommy starts, leaning back in his chair and lights a cigarette, "They work with me, and secondly if you weren't so creepy and weird, you'd not speak of women as if they're a rare breed of dog."

Mr Parsons takes no notice of Thomas, just keeps his smile as his green eyes take me in, making my skin crawl. If the circumstances wear different and we were in a different environment I'd of either punched the guy in the face or threatened to do something worse by now, but because this is business and he could be important, I can't.

I lead forward in my chair to be closer to him despite my whole body screaming no. "You're coming on a little strong."

"That's just the way I act with beautiful women. A good one only comes around once and a while and you have to snap them up real fucking quick." He replies, with a wink, looking proud of himself.

"And you think it's working?" Tommy sasses and I stifle a chuckle, pursing my lip to conceal my smirk.

"I know it's working." He states over confidently, which even if I were into him, that would be a big turn off.

Like Tommy, he has a certain confidence about him but it's not stifling, big headed, or cocky, it's subtle, he demands it without verbally demanding it, and it's attractive.

Ew, since when did I use my best friend as a model of what is hot and not?

"Business, Mr Parsons, we're here for business." I remind him, sending him a stern look.

"See." Mr Parsons smirks at Tommy, and I roll my eyes as Tommy just stares straight through him, his cigarette seemingly forgotten as it burns in his fingers. "My business need protecting because I've made a few enemies in my year, and people like trying to tear me down."

"Wonder why." I mumble in a huff.

"What was that, sweetheart?"

"Oh nothing, just talking to myself, nothing for you to worry about." I wave him off, throwing a glare at him I how intrusive he's being.

"Anything that concerns your gorgeous mind is my concern, darling." Mr Parsons states softly before he grabs my hand that was dangling off of the arm of my chair.

I throw my head back in annoyance; I'd give anything to show this bitch my knife. I pull hand back, wanting to wash hands immediately.

"Why should we give you our protection?" Tommy asks, raising an eyebrow, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Because, you clearly need it." Mr Parsons says, taking his eyes off of me from practically looking through my clothes to look at Tommy straight in the eyes.

Tommy abruptly gets up and rounds his desk towards me, he nods his head for me to get out of my chair, which I do and Tommy places his hand on my waist as we switch places to me sitting in his chair opposite Mr Parsons to Tommy sitting next to him, I can feel Mr Parsons' eyes on my body as I move. Tommy leans forward in his new chair, looking deep into Mr Parsons' eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He questions, looking scary but it's kinda hot and to be honest, I'm slightly turned on.

"You live in a place like this, it's pretty self explanatory." Mr Parsons replies, crossing his leg over the other.

"I choose to live here, you don't have a choice." Tommy points out, clearly knowing more about him than I do.

"If that's what you want to believe, sure." He chuckles, throwing his head back.

"I'm not accustomed to being spoken to like that, especially not in my own fucking office." Tommy states, shaking his head slightly.

"What? No one been brave enough?" He chortles. "I've always been---"

"No one's seen the next morning after." Thomas cuts him off bluntly, and Mr Parsons stills for a moment.

This is such a dangerous and tense moment yet all I can do is keep my eyes locked on Tommy and all I want in the world right now is a repeat of the other night.

"I'm here to make a deal, Mr Shelby."

"Fine, give me your proposition." Tommy says, leaning back in his seat.

"50 percent of what I can--- no, will bring into The Shelby Company." Mr Parsons states with no remorse.

"And how do you expect to do that?" Tommy practically almost laughs, and I bite my lip to stop my guffaws coming out.

"With my business. If you protect me and people know that we're in bed together, you'll get even more people coming to you, you won't know where to put all the money." He answers, clearly delusional.

"Anything more you want from your so called deal?" Tommy asks, raising an eyebrow.

"A night with the girl."

We both freeze at that, both of us not believing that he just said that.

Tommy's always been protective of me, especially with people like this. I can even remember when I'd get people a year or two above me in school hitting on me or flirting with me, Tommy would always put them in their place and then ask if I was okay.

Yet at the same time, he knows to give me space and when I'm at my breaking point. He knows I don't like being smothered and accommodates for that.

"She's off the fucking table, untouchable." Tommy states with no hesitation or room for arguing. "Get the fuck out of my office." He shakes his head.

"I said sh---"

"Out." I push and he turns to look at me, his eyes widening at the sight of a gun pointed at his head.

"Yo---"

"Out." I push and pull the slide back.

He wordlessly gets up and Tommy and I escort him out as he swears a storm, slamming the door after himself.

Tommy and I stare at each other, alone since last night.

We both act on our own accord as I'm suddenly pressed against the wall, with Tommy's mouth on mine. I grip the back of his neck, my nails tickling his skin as Tommy pins me against the wall with his hips whilst his hands grip whatever he can.

Tommy wastes no time letting his tongue get reacquainted with mine, and I let out a moan at the feeling.

Last time it was soft, gentle, and slow, this time though, this time it's a lot more heated, passionate, and rougher.

"Jump." Tommy mumbles against me, and I do so, wrapping my legs around him as his hands go to my ass to get a steady grip on me.

I can tell he's holding back, almost as if he's refraining himself

"You can be rougher with me, by the way. I'm not made of glass." I quietly tell him, tracing his face with my fingers as we search each others eyes.

"Yeah?" He raises an eyebrow. "How rough?"

"We could set up a safe word?" I suggest.

"Like what?"

"Juggle?"

Tommy laughs before he presses his forehead against mine. "That works."

***

"What the fuck was that?" Tommy asks shocked, trying to catch his breath as his hand trails down the bare skin on my back.

"I don't know but oh my god." I shake my head, resting my forehead on his shoulder.

"This needs to be a regular occurrence, it's too good not to be." Tommy states, throwing his head back in his leather desk chair.

"Definitely." I agree, beginning to catch my breath.

I pull back, looking at Tommy who looks at me with hooded eyes and a small genuine smile, seemingly in a daze; we both are.

"You look pretty like this, no walls up, exposed and genuine." Thomas tells me softly, pushing some hair out of my face before quickly yet gently brushing his lips against mine.

"You're only saying that because I'm naked on top of you." I retort, beginning to have feeling in my legs again after riding him in his chair.

"I've always thought your were the most gorgeous person in the world, you know that, fuck, everyone knows that." He says and my stomach turns into liquid heat.

"Stop." I bashfully reply, burying my face into his neck as he breathes a laugh, continuing to stroke my back.

"You're so cute." He chuckles, kissing the side of my head.

"I've gotta get back to work, as much fun as this was, I like making money." I state, swiftly sliding off his lap and searching for my clothes that are strewn about the room somehow.

"So, what do you think we should do about Mr Parsons?" Tommy asks me, watching me fasten the back of my bra.

"You're not considering doing business with him are you?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"No, fuck no." He shakes his head, getting up out of his chair to also get dressed. "Can't just let him come out of here with no repercussions."

"Probably just scare him, he didn't necessarily do anything, was just extremely unprofessional and disrespectful." I give him my two cents, before slipping my thick and dark jumper over my head. "But if there's anything that needs blowing up, you know where to find me."

Tommy chuckles as he buttons his shirt up.

"Of course." He nods with a smile, watching me slip into my skirt. "I'll send Finn his way."

"Terrifying." I smirk, finding it hard to believe that the boy I watched grow up could be intimidating.

"You seemed scared of him when he knocked on the door." Tommy teases, brushing his hip against mine as he walks past me.

"Well obviously, you had me up against the wall he was on the other side of; anyone could've caught us." I retort, looking in a mirror to sort my hair out as Tommy seems to have a fascination with it.

"Oh, so you're ashamed of me now are you?" Tommy asks, a teasing glint to blue eyes.

"Yeah, you're my dirty little secret." I laugh, before tying my shoes up.

Tommy tilts his head back to laugh as he slips his blazer back on, both of us looking put together again as if we didn't just have mind blowing sex.

"I'm going to have to kick you out of my office if you're going to speak to me like that." Tommy states, as we both near the door.

"We should really stop fucking on here. Next time my house." I tell him, looking up at him and the funny bright look in his eyes.

"Oh, so their is going to be a next time?" Tommy smirks with a raised eyebrow, look in proud of himself.

"You know as well as I do that there's going to be a next time." I send him a knowing look and he subtly licks his lips, looking pleased. "Can't get rid of you Shelbys if I tried."

Tommy laughs and presses a quick smiley kiss to my lips, "Don't ever change."

That's the start of an extremely natural, fulfilling, fun and sensual relationship. Nothing really changed within our friendship, only that we see each other naked a lot more.

It's definitely brought us closer together. We were extremely close before everything happened but now it feels like we've gotten to a new level, definitely a more intimate level but we're closer than ever before.

It kinda feels like we should've been messing around the whole time, it feels silly that we weren't. What we've got is so much fun and honestly it's a nice stress reliever at the end of the day.

It doesn't feel like we're tarnishing our years long friendship, this feels natural and free flowing.

No one knows, we made that a strict rule. We always try to mess around in the privacy of our own homes, but sometimes when it's late and everyone's gone home we can help ourselves or if tensions get high throughout the day.

I'm pretty sure no one knows. When this all started Ada was visiting and we were slightly sloppy with our secrecy, and she kinda cornered Tommy and I at different times but we got away with it as she never mentioned it again. After that we got our act together and any suspicion that was around died.

It's relatively unexpected from us, although we've expressed our attraction and admiration for each other to other people, we've always said we'd never act on it or that it was even possible to feel anything but appreciation for each other.

I've always joked that it'd be awful to be in a relationship with Tommy and that I'd hate to wake up to him everyday.

We also have another rule to not fall in love, which I laughed at when Tommy asked me to not fall in love with him, and then I told him to not flatter himself.

It's been kinda exciting sneaking around with Tommy. I feel like I'm hiding the resident bad boy of the town from my parents, but in this case it's one of the most dangerous people in the country and I'm sneaking around in front of his family, friends, and co-workers.

We generally don't really see each other outside of work besides on the Sundays that he comes over to my house to get his hair cut. Almost everyday we spend a lot of time together when everyone's gone home or ended their work day, we work together a lot, and I guess we see each other at the pub a lot; but to see each other outside of those premises isn't often. I occasionally go to Thomas' house but not by choice, only if he needs me there or there's a crises or an event going on but if I'm honest I don't like his house, which I've told him before and he always laughs at me because of it.

I love my flat in the heart of Small Heath and you couldn't get me out of their if you tried. I've lived there for years and it's my own place to call home. I could easily afford a house like Tommy's but you'd have to kill me to get me out of my flat.

In recent times, my house has sort of become his residence as he's spent so much time here recently. It's not just sex, we'll sometimes go to my house after work or after some evening entertainment, have a meal or just talk which leads to sex, and then half the time Tommy will stay the night; which leads to us having to sneak into work together without raising any suspicions.

Like now, it's honestly too often you'd find Tommy in my bed the morning after as the sun is beginning to shine through my bedroom windows, talking in quiet voices and having a few laughs.

Letting out a soft laugh at Tommy, I rub my hand over my face wake myself up a little bit more.

It's well into the morning, Tommy and I are lying in my bed, surrounded by sun spots that are pouring through my worn French windows, the Birmingham bustle is in full swing a few floors below us that we can hear small swings of from the window that is just slightly open, yet it's calm and quiet in this plant ridden room.

Just our quiet voices as if we were confessing our darkest secrets with the occasional stranger's shouty voice drifting through the window, and soft touches like we're handling a rare and ancient piece of history.

"Do you miss it?" Tommy asks as we're going through old memories.

"I miss my only worries being if Matthew Kennedy liked be back or not and being young and carefree, but I also love my life right now." I reply.

"Oh yeah, you planned out your wedding, how many kids you were gonna have and everything." Tommy laughs, his eyes glazed over as he thinks back to simpler times.

"It was gonna be outside with as many flowers as possible and we were gonna have 3 children, twin girls and a boy." I chuckle along with him, looking up at the crisp white ceiling. "But it turned out he was a shit kisser and only wanted to see my bed."

"I can still remember the black eye you gave him for that." Tommy grins, almost proudly.

"Deserved it, knob." I shake my head as he snickers before pulling me into him with the arm under me, curling me into his side, leaving the cracked open window to tickle my bare back with soft gusts of air.

"You're so violent." Tommy mumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to my hairline.

"Only to those that deserve it, which is a lot." I explain, before looking up at him. "So I can see how you got confused in perceiving me as a violent person, it's okay, Tom."

He send me an annoyed look as his fingers trace my back.

"You're so annoying, I've never met someone who annoys me so much." Tommy shakes his head, but despite his words his fingers stay consistent in tracing my back, running over my scars and smooth skin.

"You love it." I grin up at him.

All he does is grunt in response.

We lapse into a comfortable silence, with my head rested on his shoulder and my body pressed against his side whilst he has his arm wrapped around me, almost sending me to sleep again with his soft hands tracing my body.

"I can't believe you took a bullet for me." Thomas breaks the silence, running his fingers over the scar in my back.

"Only by accident." I reply, still slightly pissed off, making Tommy chuckle.

"Well if you hadn't moved I'd be dead." He states, looking up at the ceiling and easy smile on his face.

"And to think that you thought I was joking when it happened and you laughed." I shake my head, not being able help my smile.

I still remember that day as clear as ever.

We were outside the betting den with Arthur and Michael and I went to give Tommy a hug before I said goodbye and left but as we went to embrace each other I got a bullet straight into the back. I originally crashed into him and he thought I was joking before I crashed to the floor and my blood soaked my flowery blouse, that's when the laughter died.

"I said I was sorry!" Tommy claims, sounding anything but sorry. "I took care of you in the end though."

"You tripped as you entered the door, you knob!" I counteract, remembering how I was losing blood rapidly soaking his shirt, and as I was in his arms I laughed when he tripped nearly falling over.

"I was only trying." Tommy pouts, brushing his knuckles against my shoulder.

"Thank you." I breathe a small laugh before pressing a feather like kiss to his collarbone.

"You're not welcome." He jokes, before grabbing his first cigarette of the day.

Rolling out of his arms and onto my side of the bed, I do the biggest stretch known to man along with a loud and long groan. When I open my eyes, Tommy's giving me a look which I only grin at to annoy him, laying my head on my folded forearms as I lie on my stomach; I can't help but sigh as all I want to do I stay in the bed all day, preferably with him, not that I'd ever tell him that.

"Want one?" Tommy asks, offering his cigarettes to me.

"You know I don't smoke before 11." I tell him.

"I still don't get why." He shakes his head, exhaling the smoke.

"Habit." I shrug, knowing that it doesn't make any sense but I still do it anyway.

Running my fingers through my hair, I glance at my wardrobe, knowing that I should get ready sooner than later. Shuffling up onto my knees, I make my way over to Tommy's side of the bed as my wardrobe is situated on the left side of the room, I swing my leg over his, taking a brief pew on his thighs.

"You need your hair cut." I note, combing through his slight bed-head hair with my slender fingers.

"I know, but someone keeps putting it off." Tommy drawls, sending me a brief look be for he taps off the ash from his cigarette.

"It's not my fault that you come over to do it but you end up doing me instead." I chuckle, and he smiles.

"What can I say, it's just more fun."

I roll my eyes with a fond a smile before I go to get off Tommy's lap and venture out of this unbelievably comfortable bed but Tommy stops me by placing his hands on my hips, locking me in place.

"Yes?" I raise an eyebrow.

Tommy presses his lips against mine, pulling me in for a sensual, gentle morning kiss which leaves me breathless and wanting more. So much more. His touch is softer than ever as he cups my face in one hand and trails the other over the skin of my waist.

"That's all." Tommy shrugs, brushing his nose against mine with a small smile.

I mirror his smile and capture his lips one last time before I finally get out of bed, making my way over to my wardrobe and pull both doors open, my eyes darting over the hangers.

Picking out a dark dress with bright coloured flowers that has slight and subtle bell bottom sleeves, I shimmy into that before I make my way across the room to look out the window.

"Aw, it looks like it's going to rain." I frown, closing the window.

Tommy puts out his cigarette and gets out of bed, joining me at the window. "When doesn't it?"

"True," I shrug, then turn my back to Tommy. "Can you do me up?"

"Mhm." He hums and begins to do the buttons of my dress up.

"Thank you." I flash him a grateful smile and make my way over towards my vanity to do my make up as Tommy starts to change into one of the handful of suits that he leaves at my house.

This has sort of become the norm for us, Tommy spends the night, we spend a little too much time in bed in the morning until we ultimately have to get ready do the day and we have some banter whilst we get dressed and ready, the friendly banter is usually halted with kisses that make me feel warm inside as well as make my toes curl which always throws me off with how we can go from being best friends to acting like a couple in seconds.

I guess we are called friends with benefits.

Then we go downstairs and I make him breakfast, we talk about anything that's going on around us, business or people before our day starts and as soon as my front door swings open, we resort back to being best friends like we've always been, as if the night before didn't happen.

It didn't start like that.

At first it was strictly just sex. He'd only stay for a couple hours unless I really wore him out and he'd stay the night as much as he didn't particularly want to. We were kind of keeping it a secret from ourselves, reserving it strictly for behind closed doors, you wouldn't of suspected a thing; we slowly began moving forward, we stayed the night more, touches weren't just for nightfall anymore, and we knew where we stood with each other.

We don't refrain from showing each other affection anymore. Before this all happened Tommy and I would go through phases of giving each other affection but now it's different. I'd place a lot of money down for a bet to see if Tommy could walk past me without brushing his hand over my waist or back; he just subconsciously does it every time.

Sometimes there are moments where Tommy will be speaking with someone across the room or there's a family - even though I'm not family - meeting, and all I wanna do is just kiss him.

"You look nice." Tommy comments, coming up behind me as I'm putting some earrings in in front of my vanity mirror, bowing down to look at what I'm doing.

"Thank you." I reply as Tommy wraps his arms around my waist and leans down to press his chin to my shoulder blade, looking at me through the mirror. "You look alright."

Tommy flashes me a boyish smile before pecking the skin showing through the little triangle cut out in the back of my dress.

***

"See you tomorrow." I send Polly a smile when she makes her way out of the workplace.

"Bye, love." She mirrors my smile and closes the door behind her, leaving just a few Peakys peaking around.

Casting my eyes back to my desk, I carry on with my important task at hand before it swallows me whole.

As time goes by I sink further into my chair, the lights get softer as more people leave and my workload goes down. A loud groan disrupts my flow and it sounds like it's coming from Tommy's office.

Pushing my chair out, I head over Tommy's way not bothering to knock and I find him leaning back in his chair, looking stressed and defeated. His head whips up to look at me, his hard eyes softening when he sees it's just me.

"Why's it so dark in here?" I raise an eyebrow, noting the few lamps that are on in here, casting the room in a subtle orange glow when I walk towards him.

"Hurts my eyes." Tommy grumbles and I round his desk, taking a seat on his lap, his hand grazing my ass in the process.

"What's got you so gloomy?" I enquire, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw, feeling some tension release from his body as he settles into me.

"Just so much to do, so little time." Tommy replies with a soft sigh, placing his hand on my thigh and with his other hand he brushes some hair that got caught on my lipstick before he settles it around me.

"Seems that's how life's going these days." I mumble softly, sweeping the hair off of Tommy's forehead, causing him to close his eyes momentarily. "You should be careful not to overwork yourself, Tom. You make shit decisions when you're tired."

"What can I say? You tire me out." Tommy says with a fond smirk and slightly hooded eyes.

"You're a piece of work, got to put you to bed somehow." I fire back, matching his smirk.

Pressing my lips to the sensitive skin on his neck, working my way up towards his sharp jawline, Tommy lets out a satisfied sigh, beginning to properly relax. Connecting our lips in a sweet and short kiss, Tommy squeezes my thigh as I kiss him one time, two times, three times before going back to his neck.

"Mr Shelby?" Someone calls from behind the closed door with a hesitant knock.

We're too far gone to really care who it is or what they want so Tommy sighs and grants them entrance as I continue to work my magic on him. In comes a new lower ranked Peaky Blinder who's eyes widen at the sight of us, which it would be shocking to see us right now as everyone assumes we're still just best friends but here I am sat comfortably on Tommy's lap, marking him up.

"What can I do for you, Frank?" Thomas questions, trailing his hand up my thigh.

This poor boy is speechless, not knowing how to react and he looks like he wants to get out of this room as soon as possible.

"Uh, I just came in here to tell you that I've uh finished everything you asked me to do and it uhh all went smoothly." Frank states with anything but confidence.

"Great, thanks." Tommy responds, tilting his head to the side to give me more space.

Frank escapes the room as soon as possible and I chuckle at the hard working boy. We both know that he'd never utter a word to anyone about what he saw, that's why we didn't freak out. The boy want to go up in this company and he'll do anything to please anyone higher than him; he's too gentle and easily persuaded for this world.

"Is that everyone gone?" Tommy asks me.

"Should be." I confirm with a small nod.

"Perfect."

The next thing I feel is Tommy's hand creeping up my skirt.

***

"What?" Tommy utters, staring at a lower ranked Peaky Blinder with an ice cold stare.

"It's not my fault! I tried to get him to agree but---"

"Not your fault? This whole plan went down the drain because of you!" Tommy states, not believing the man.

"He had a gun to my head, what was I supposed to do?!" Matthew asks outraged.

"You should taken someone fucking with you, not just thought that you knew best! You need a wake up call because if you want to remain in this company you should know that that shit doesn't fly around here. Could've taken John, Arthur, Cora, fuck, even Michael for fuck sake, not just make decisions as you go along." Thomas retorts, frustrated beyond belief as he rubs his hands over his face.

"What's all the shouting about?" Polly questions as she comes up beside me from being in another room.

"Mathew fucked up and gave away Tommy's plans and shit, along with some other stuff that i don't quite know the details of, so Tom's losing his shit." I fill her in, looking up at her from where I'm sitting and she's standing.

"How the fuck did that happen?" She asks, confused.

"He ran into some trouble on the way or something, I'm not sure, I only came in half way through." I take an unsure guess.

"Men." She shakes her head, letting out a sigh.

"Boys." I correct, making her cackle as she turns to move further into the room.

"I don't need a babysitter, and I sure as hell am not gonna take a female with me." Mathew states in defence, his so called manhood damaged by the thought of a woman being able to do his job better than him.

Tommy huffs a small laugh.

"I wear heels bigger than your dick!" I joke from across the room, not taking his serious comment seriously.

"Just get out of my sight before I force you to." Tommy huffs, turning around and heading up to his office, not being gentle with the door as he closes it behind him.

"I'll go talk to him." I roll my eyes, getting up out of my chair, grabbing the knife from off my desk with me. "And you..." I start, showing Mathew my weapon. "Try not to be a sexist twat next time you're even vaguely threatened by a woman. We hold a lot more power than you can, so remember that next time." I give him a sly wink as I twirl the extremely sharp knife around my fingers.

Heading into Tommy's office, I lean against the door after I close it, watching Tommy lean over his desk, head hung low, tension present in his muscles.

"What is it with people not sticking to the plan?" Tommy grumbles, not bothering to turn around and face me.

"Some people think they know best, I guess." I say, coming up behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist, feeling some tension leave his body.

"He's my employee, this is not what I'm employing him for. I'm not paying him to fuck up." Tommy shakes his head as I press my cheek against his back.

"I know." I say, knowing he doesn't really want me to say anything, he just needs comforting and someone to vent to.

"This whole plan has gone to shit, I've spent weeks trying to perfect it, and the easiest task got fucked." He huffs.

"You shouldn't of trusted him to it, the man can't even tie a tie." I state, looking out of the window.

"I just thought I'd give him a chance, a try, whatever, but I shouldn't of." Tommy replies, lifting his head up.

"You learn from these things, got to know where you stand with the people around you." I tell him, moving my hands from around his waist to hooking under his shoulders.

"I guess, but I just expected more from him." Tommy responds.

And so I let my best friend vent some more, not just about this incident but anything that's on his mind, only replying when I feel the need to, and I think it worked because he's not all worked up anymore, the tension has dropped in his body, and he seems at peace.

"Thank you." Tommy utters, taking my face in his hands.

"For what?" I breathe a small laugh, holding onto his forearms.

"For just always being there for me, day or night, for the big things and the small things, I don't know how I could ever thank you enough." He says, stepping into my bubble, looking more sincere than ever.

"You do the same for me, that's more than enough." I assure, looking deep into his deep blue eyes. "Thank you for being my best friend."

Tommy smiles a small smile, before giving me a kiss, pulling me impossibly close to him, both of our smiles growing.

***

Glancing over towards the clock on the bedside table, seeing the time reads 6:30, I've got a long day ahead of me and I need to catch up on quite a few things as I seem to be slacking because I've been spending all my time with the duvet hogger to the left of me.

Granted it's not my house or room so I have no claim on it, but I seem to spend more time here than my own house; it feels more like home here, anyway.

Letting out a quiet yawn, I look over at Cora next to me, seeing how she's dead to the world looking effortlessly gorgeous whilst she's fast asleep. Her dark hair is splayed out on her pillow, her long eyelashes resting on her cheeks, and her bare shoulders are poking out of the duvet, with a small sun spot shining on her, and she just looks so pretty.

It feels weird not waking up next to her nowadays, it feels so natural seeing her warming up the other half of either mine or her's bed.

Sitting up, I shuffle out of bed and start to get dressed and I can't help but think of how I could get used to this.

Beginning to get ready for the day without waking up Cora, I don't bother with breakfast as I just don't have the time. Doing a once over in the mirror, I head over to Cora who's half awake to let her know that I'm leaving.

"Cora, lovie." I say softly, placing my hand on her exposed arm.

"Hm?" She hums, giving me a peak of her green eyes as she purses her lips briefly.

"'M gonna head into work now, I'll see you later on, eh?" I inform, watching her slowly wake up.

"Okay, have fun." Cora wishes, readjusting the sheet on her bare chest.

"Oh I'll try." I joke, brushing some hair away from her face with a fond smile. "I'll see you later." I tell her, planting a quick kiss on her lips.

She chuckles.

"Look at us, like an old married couple, who'd of thought?"

"Terrifying." I laugh, asking her laugh as I leave the room with a smile on my face that stays on my face until I open the front door, and as I'm walking to work I can't help but think that that doesn't sound so bad.

Leaning back in my chair, I grab a cigarette and flick my lighter against the end, quickly exhaling what I inhale before clearing my throat a little.

"I look forward to what the future holds for us, Mr Shelby." Mr Cliffo states, clearly chuffed with the way this meeting went.

"As do I, Mr Cliffo, as do I." I reply, wanting to get him out of my office as soon as possible as I've still got so much to do today.

"You've got a nice thing going on here, great business attitude, trust worthy co workers, it seems like your family really has its heart in this company." Mr Cliffo drawls, looking around the room.

"Yes, all of us here believe in this company and always want to strive closer towards our goals and ambitions." I nod, bringing my cigarette to my mouth again.

"I have to ask as curiosity has gotten the best of me, where's the woman that usually attends our meetings?" Mr Cliffo questions, and I sigh, it seems like everyone takes interest in my best friend nowadays.

She's extremely captivating and has a mysterious aura to her, Cora just has this way of drawing you in and making you want to know as much about her as possible.

"Busy." I inform, watching him carefully, how he has a ghost of smile on his face and seemingly looking back on his few interactions with her.

"I've missed her little quips and ideas." He tells me.

Widening my eyes as I let out an exasperated huff, I stand up and head towards the door, hopefully giving him the hint to get the fuck out of my office.

Which he does, so he stands up whilst doing the buttons of his blazer up, approaching me by the door.

"Pretty little thing she is." He says fondly, but not in a creepy way just a genuine compliment.

"She's certainly a head turner." I nod, not being able to deny it.

"Well, I must get going, errands to run." Mr Cliffo states and opens the door. "I'm sensing a promising future here, Mr Shelby."

"I'll look forward to it." I say, escorting him out to hurry him up.

We enter the main room where everyone seems to be, the shouting across the room and bustling noises greet us.

"Have a good day, Mr Shelby." Mr Cliffo bids and we shake hands briefly before he leaves, leaving me to head into John's office to relay some information about the meeting I just had.

"Good meeting?" John questions as I lean against the door frame.

"As good as a meeting with Mr Cliffo can go." I half joke, folding my arms.

"Still a boring middle aged fuck?" John laughs, dropping his pen.

"More of less." I confirm with a small chuckle.

I'm half way through telling John about what happened and our plans when there's a commotion on the other side of the room. I look over my shoulder and find Cora pinning Mr Cliffo against the wall with the knife that she keeps in her stockings under his chin

He looks sheepish, slightly terrified, and completely taken of guard whilst she looks dangerous, pissed off and not the slightest bit hesitant.

"What the fuck is goin' on?" John enquires, joining me in the doorway. "Fuck yeah, I love when she brings the knives out." He practically cheers for her.

"Touch me or any of the woman in here again and you won't see the next sunrise." Cora promises, and in some weird way I can't help but smile a little as she looks so natural at this.

"What's some woman gonna do?" Mr Cliffo attempts to belittle her in order to save his so called manhood.

That's not what he was saying about her earlier.

Cora sharply brings her knee to his crotch making him pale and let out an agonising groan. The impact enough to make any man wince.

"First time a woman's touched your dick in years, is it?" She taunts, pushing the knife into his skin.

He can't get any words out, clearly in too much pain.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" She all but smirks. "Get out of here before you do something you'll regret." Cora states and Mr Cliffo stumbles out of the door, no doubt planning to avoid this building for the rest of his life.

"Fucking hell, I learnt the day I met her not to fuck with Cora Witton and I'm still scared of her." John tells me, subtly interlacing his hands over his crotch making me breathe a laugh.

"Ladies." Cora grins at the women who she just protected from Mr Cliffo, and they mirror her smile.

"She may be small but she will hurt you." I comment watching her tuck her knife back in her stocking, not caring that people can see.

"No hesitation." John adds before he goes back to his desk.

"What the fuck were you thinking doing business with him?" Cora questions as she comes up to me, not mad just curious.

"We've worked with him before, thought I'd take it further." I shrug.

"And after each meeting he grabs my ass." She rolls her eyes, mirroring my folded arms.

"That's him?" I raise an eyebrow, surprised.

"Kinda." She nods, widening her eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't know, lovie." I say softly before kissing her cheek breifly. "This is why I need you in my meetings, give me honest and better judgement."

"Speaking of which, business is done and dealt with, Finn and Isiah are just finishing it up." Cora informs.

"Did it go smoothly?" I question, staring down at her.

"More or less." She nods and she's about to explain before Michael calls her over. "I'll tell you later." Cora tells me, gently fixing my tie before she heads over to Michael.

"You're close." John states, a teasing tone creeping into his voice along with the growing smirk.

"Fuck off." I grumble and leave his doorway, entering mine.

***

"Hi." Cora sings when she enters my office, an unfamiliar baby on her hip.

"Who's this?" I question, leaning back in my chair.

"My neighbour's son." She says, tucking some blonde hair behind the baby's ear.

"It's illegal to take people's children, Cora." I tell her, smiling when she rolls her eyes.

"My neighbour needed someone to watch him for like 15 minutes." She informs, sitting down in the chair opposite me, situating the young boy on her lap who's fascinated with the bracelet on her wrist.

"What's his name?"

"Ronnie."

"Is this the neighbour that complained about the noise?" I ask, with a cheeky smirk

"Yeah, I still can't look them in the eye." She bashfully answers, smiling through the pain.

I laugh as I look back on that experience, it traumatised her so much that we did all our rendezvous on my house for the next month until people started getting suspicious so we went back to her house most of the time.

"You do a lot of things, Cora, yet you can't look your neighbour in the eyes because they heard us one time." I state, amused.

"Uh, I highly doubt it was just the once." She confidently claims.

"Why don't you just move somewhere more remote?" I suggest, already knowing the answer.

"I can't! I love my place, you know that." Cora replies, readjusting Ronnie on her lap. "Isn't that right, Mr Ronnie?" She coos.

I rest my chin on my palm, hiding my smile behind my knuckles. She looks like such a natural with him and seeing her with a baby makes a weird thought come into mind and I can't help but entertain that thought.

Half of me and half of her, dear god help the child who's cursed with that.

A sarcastic and cocky bastard riddled with trauma and seemingly never ending problems.

I'm not planning on having a child with Cora ever, but the idea is entertaining and gives me an odd feeling.

She'd be an amazing mum, she would do anything for anyone that she loves, and to receive her love is one of the greatest things in the world. As I'm looking at her now, I want some of that.

I'd like a beautiful baby who's half me and half her.

"What you daydreaming about, Shelby?" Cora brings me out of the thoughts I'd never utter to her.

"Nothing." I shake my head, and try to busy myself with the work in front of me.

"In all the years I've known you, Tommy, there's always something in your head." Cora says knowingly, a teasing smile creeping on her face.

"Not true." I deceive.

"I'll find out, some day, I always do."

Not even over my dead body.

"Are you coming over tonight?" She questions, crossing her legs.

"Depends, do you want me to?" I retort, looking over at her.

"I think you know the answer to that." Cora tells me, meeting my eyes, a sly glint prevalent in her eyes.

"No?" I guess.

"Of course I do." She chuckles, her smile lighting up the room.

"Tell you what, I'll finish this in the next... 20 minutes/half an hour then we'll head over to your flat, and see where the evening takes us." I suggest, despite the fact that I still got at least a third of work to do today but this girl just does things to me.

"You and I both know exactly where the evening will take us." Cora laughs, running her hand through her hair.

"The sooner we're out of here, the sooner we can get there." I reply, sending her a knowing look.

"Sounds like a plan." Cora grins, gathering Ronnie before leaving the room.

***

"Ready?" I ask, brushing my hand over Cora's shoulder as I walk past her.

"Mhm, just need to give this to Michael." She hums, getting out of her chair to head over to Michael as I get my coat.

"Where are you two going?" Polly muses, leaning back almost smugly in her chair, a cigarette burning in her fingers.

"Home." I answer, turning to look at her.

"Early for you." Polly acknowledges, looking as if she knows something I don't.

"Maybe so, Pol, maybe so." I nod as Cora walks over towards us.

"Ready?" She questions and I nod before I guide us out of here by draping my arm over her shoulders, opening the front door, seeing its beginning to rain. "Shit, I didn't bring a coat." Cora pouts.

"I did." I smugly say, stepping outside and she tugs at the sleeves of her dress until she steps out, too.

We begin to walk the 15 minute walk to Cora's place, chatting about random things on the way, the rain only getting heavier; luckily we're sheltered by the roofs of the houses hanging over the pavement.

"No one annoys me more than my sister, not even you and you're really high up there, like too high." She tells me, making me grin, that's my favourite pastime.

"It's just so easy to do, nothing amuses me more than when you're annoyed." I chuckle, looking down at her annoyed glare and feigning pain when she punches me in the arm, watching her fold her arms to keep herself warm.

"I retract my statement, you annoy me the mos---" she cuts herself off when I drape my coat over her shoulders. "Tommy Shelby, you're so romantic." Cora laughs, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"I try." I mumble, with a small smile as we turn a corner.

"Fuckin' hell, rain's giving no mercy." She points out, and we both look out at the rain that's pelting down, making puddles and leaking through unlucky people's roofs.

Luckily we're sheltered by said roofs; for now.

Grabbing Cora's hand, I pull her out of the protection of the roofs into the rain, making her squeal and laugh which is just music to my ears as I laugh along with her.

"Tommy!" She exclaims and I pull her into my arms, pressing her against me as our hair and clothes get soaked.

"Cora!" I imitate to annoy her, as she wraps her arms loosely around my neck, bringing us even closer. I look into her eyes, seeing how carefree she looks, how much her face is lit up, the smile that always makes me weak in the knees, and how happy she looks, it makes me unbelievably happy. "Kiss me."

"What? Out in open? People can see us, rumours will spread." Cora tells me as she sweeps some soaked hair off my forehead and to the side.

"So? People are already suspicious." I shrug, cupping her cheek. "Kiss me."

She breathes a laugh before pressing her lips to mine, the both of us smiling into it.

I've never smiled as much as the time I spend with this girl.

We stand in the middle of the road, raining cats and dogs on us, intertwined with each other, more than just physically, out in the open.

Pulling back slowly, we take each other in with soft eyes and smiles, and as I'm looking at her right now, all I can feel is love.

I'm in love with my best friend.

Deeply in love.

I could call myself crazy but the way she's looking at me right now and how she's making me feel, I'd say she feels the exact same.

The words are on the tip of my tongue, aching to be said but I'm not brave enough, so I settle with kissing her again instead.

I'm scared to the bone but I'm also kind of revelling in it as it's a new feeling and fuck does it feel good.

"You look pretty in the rain."

"As do you."

***

After a successful business move that we've all been hard at work on for the past month, that called for a celebration, right? Which is why we're in The Garrison this evening, nestled in the private room full of Shelbys, Grays, and a few other Peakys including myself.

Which is predictably chaos.

"To business." Michael toasts, holding his drink up.

"To business." We all toast, clinking glasses.

"Michael, for fucks sake, you've made that toast like 10 times tonight." John groans, rubbing his forehead clearly exasperated.

"I'm a little drunk, and you keep joining so you're all as bad as me." Michael states, and there's some truth to his words.

We're all a little drunk, some more than others. Not to name names or anything but I'm definitely looking at Arthur, Finn and possibly Polly, not to mention Michael. The rest of us are tipsy, definitely feeling the buzz in our systems, but not off our face.

Although that might change as the night goes on.

"To business!" Arthur vindicates, and I groan, making Tommy chuckle.

"On behalf of my family, I am so sorry." Tommy jokes from beside me.

"What is it with you Shelbys and your liquor?" I question, leaning my head on his shoulder as I look at him.

"Born with it in our bloodstreams." Tommy tells me, brushing his fingertips against my arm as his arm is draped around the back of my part of the booth.

We're kind of in our own bubble in the corner, occasionally piping up with a quip or an opinion but we're mainly talking to each other like we've always done in these sort of circumstances.

"I assume you came out of the womb with a cigarette too, right?" I tease, crossing my legs.

"Yeah, the midwife was waiting with a match." He jokes with a small laugh, his smile staying on his face.

"I can't imagine you as a child. Of course I've known you since we were in year 9, and I'd seen you around a few times in secondary school, but to imagine you as an 8 year old is really hard." I tell him, smiling at the thought.

"Well first of all I was adorable, let's get that out of the way." Tommy states, trying to conceal his smirk.

"You still are!" I tease, earning myself a blank look.

"The ladies loved me." He continues.

"Even with your bad haircut?" I laugh, I've heard so much about his haircuts in the past that family members did for him.

"That's what brought them in, you whore." Tommy laughs which makes me laugh.

"Of course, all that extra hair just propelled these so called ladies to you."

"Exactly." He confirms as if it's obvious. "I've heard stories from your childhood from your family or partners." Tommy informs, a mischievous look in his eyes

"You know only what I want you to know."

"You're forgetting that I know every single thing about you, everything." Tommy says, nudging his knee against mine.

"I highly doubt that, every single thing? Really?" I question, nudging him back.

"Yeah."

"How old was I when I stopped hating you?" I test him, turning slightly to look at him.

"Trick question, you never stopped." Tommy answers, grinning because he knows he's right and I huff. "Yet you still suck my dick almost every night." He mumbles, making me punch him which only makes him laugh.

"I don't hear you complaining." I retort.

"I'd never." Tommy shakes his head. "Why don't we go back to your place and I'll show you how appreciative I am." He suggest, placing his hand on my thing under the table.

"Don't you want to celebrate with your family?" I question, looking over at everyone who's more or less plastered.

"Lovie, you are my celebration." Tommy tells me fondly, tucking some hair behind my ear.

This is the thing with Tommy. He can make you feel so special and make you feel like you're the only person in the room, despite the fact that it's filled with loads of people. He can set off a load of fireworks inside of you without even really trying.

"How about you meet me in the back room in five minutes..." Tommy suggests, sending me a mischievous smile.

"Sounds like a plan." I reply, matching his smile.

"I'm gonna go get more alcohol." Tommy announces, but no one's really listening, and Tommy leaves the room, leaving me alone with his family.

"I'm so glad that I never have to talk to another Bulgarian in my life." Finn says, as I tune into the family's conversation.

"What if you fall in love with one one day?" I question and he turns to me.

"Simply impossible." Finn shakes his head.

"You can't control who you love; you can lie to yourself, deny yourself of it, but it'll always be there." I tell him, sitting up straight ready to go.

"You can definitely control who you love, I can also choose who, when, and where." Finn disagrees, taking a sip of his drink.

"Okay, say you chose to fall in love with the old lady that lives next door to you. Could you do that?" I question, watching him falter as everyone chuckles at him.

"What do you know about love anyway?" Finn asks in a grumble, downing the rest of his drink.

I know a little something about unrequited love.

"I got proposed to." I retort, sending him an obvious look.

"Which you laughed at before walking away from him." He argues, with a laugh.

"Broke the poor guy's heart in front of everyone." Arthur stifles a laugh, refilling his glass.

"Who proposes after 2 years together?" I question, folding my arms.

"Loads of people." John answers, an amused look on his face.

"Shit, maybe I don't know much about love." I join the laughter almost sheepishly.

"I love being in love, it's one of the best feelings in the world." Polly states, leaning back in her chair with a dazed look in her eyes.

"Love is whenever something happens in your life, good or bad, you immediately want to tell them. When you know you can go to them for anything. Knowing you can do anything and they'll always be there for you. When they can always make you laugh, despite anything. Just feeling at home with them, basically. Love is when they're your home." Arthur despite being drunk, eloquently speaks.

My mind instantly goes to Tommy.

He's all of that.

Always has been.

"Love is never far, it's always closer than you think." Polly states, and I look over at her and find that she's already looking at me. Her eyes boring into my soul.

"The only things I love in my life is me and my flat." I announce, and get up to go meet Tommy.

"What about me?" Finn questions, looking up at me with puppy-like look adorning his face.

"Aww." I smile and ruffle his hair. "No."

Opening the door to be greeted with the rest of The Garrison that isn't closed off, I step out and close the door behind me, my eyes scanning the room. Rolling my eyes when I see Tommy talking to some guy at the bar.

He spots me as I approach him, a small smile quirking at his mouth.

"Sorry, I've got some business to attend to." Tommy excuses himself and swiftly yet subtly follows me through the room.

"Is that what I am now? Business?" I tease, as we're out of earshot from anyone around us.

"No, you're a lot more fun than business." Tommy says, grabbing my hand as we push past the doors that lead to the backrooms down the long corridor.

"I don't know, sometimes you get quite excited when things are going well." I tell him, making him laugh which resonates in this empty corridor. "Although---"

I'm cut off by Tommy pressing me up against the wall as he attaches his mouth to mine eagerly. Cupping his face, I match his pace and pull him closer as he buries his fingers in my hair and pins me against the wall with his hips.

"You're so pretty, lovie." Tommy whispers, making me grin.

"So are you." I chuckle, knowing how much he hates when I call him pretty despite the tiny blush that flushes his cheeks.

"You just love to remind me that you're my best friend, don't you?" He asks with a smile.

"Yeah." I laugh and kiss him again before Tommy begins to guide us to a more private area as our kiss begins to heat up and hands are roaming.

The door slams against the wall as we enter a storage room that is surprisingly clean, the heavy wooden door closes itself and Tommy and I stumble our way through the room as our bodies heat up until we hit a wall, I let out a breathy moan at the sensation of being able to feel ever curve and dip of Tommy.

Disconnecting our lips, Tommy dips his head to attach his mouth to my neck as I pant, beginning to fiddle with the buttons of my dress.

"Uh, Tommy? Cora?" A voice hesitantly speaks up, and we freeze.

You could hear a pin drop.

I look to my left and see Michael staring at us with wide eyes, looking scared yet too shocked to really form an opinion.

"Hi, Michael." I sheepishly greet as Tommy drops his head to my shoulder in defeat briefly.

"Has this been going on this whole time?" Michael asks after some silence, rubbing his nose.

"What are you even doing here anyway, Michael?" Tommy asks, turning to face him.

"I was uh... meeting a friend." Michael says. "Not your kind of friend though."

I look past him and see the small container splayed out on some stacked up pallets. "Friend, really?"

"Yep." He nods, inhaling sharply as he refuses to look us in the eyes.

"Not doing lines off old rotting pallets?" I suggest, putting my weight on one foot.

"To--- Who are you to judge me when you guys are fucking or whatever under people's noses?" Michael accuses, acting out. "Has this been going this whole time? You've been sneaking around for years?"

"What does it matter to you?" Tommy and I say simultaneously.

"Are guys together or what?" Michael questions, looking between us.

Tommy and I look at each other, not being able to come up with an answer.

"How does it concern you with what we do privately?" Tommy questions, looking pissed.

"I don't know about priva---"

I cut Michael off as I push him against the wall, swiftly pulling my knife out and holding I under his chin whilst I have my hand pressed against his collar. "You say a fucking word to anyone, your mum, your friends, your butcher, your fucking dentist and you'll be fresh meat." I warn as I look into his blown out eyes. "Understand?"

"Cora---"

"Understand?" I repeat, pressing the blade into his skin.

"Yes, I won't utter a word!" Michael conforms, keeping eye contact.

"Good." I grin, and affectionately clap his cheek. "Tell your mum I'll be in late tomorrow." I inform as I put away my knife before stepping back to Tommy, who runs his hand down my back and rests it on the small of my back.

"We're trusting you, Michael." Tommy tells him, giving him a stern look before we head out the door.

"Stay off the snow will you, Michael?" I suggest over my shoulder before the door slams shut.

"You're so violent, like my little weapon." Tommy teases, intertwining our fingers and I squeeze his hand lightly.

"How much do you trust him?" I question, as we walk down the long corridor.

"As long as we've got you around, I'd say 100 per cent." Tommy jokes. "As long as we don't have any interactions like that again, I'd say he's pretty trust worthy."

"Right." I nod, taking in his words. "Back to my house?"

"We're still celebrating, aren't we?" Tommy states, making me chuckle but it's short lived as I can't help but frown when he drops my hand as we enter the open again.

My heart sinks.

"Just wanna remind you that we've got a wedding next week." Tommy says and I roll my eyes.

You forget one important shoot out that's been planned for months and suddenly he has to remind you of every important thing for the rest of time.

"You didn't propose though?" I reply, gliding through groups of people.

"I didn't?" He raises an eyebrow, looking down at me with a small smirk.

"No, you didn't." I shake my head, smiling.

"Oh, shame, you look good in white."

***

"Well Arthur, the big day's come." I say, as I flip my collar up to put my tie on.

"Indeed, it has indeed." Arthur nods, taking a seat on the large ottoman in the middle of the room.

"Our Arthur's finally settling down, eh?" John smirks as he looks in the mirror to do his hair again.

"God help Linda." Finn grumbles, slipping into his blazer.

"Already is." John widens his smirk.

"I don't see any of you getting married so fuck off." Arthur replies, disregarding John.

"To be fair, he's got a point... god can only do so much." I state, tightening my tie and putting my collar down.

"Oi, you can barely keep your woman on the reigns." Arthur retorts, pointing a finger at me, as the others snicker.

"I've not got a woman." I reply although I know who and what they're talking about.

"You know, the girl you're always around." Arthur tells me, and I huff with a small smile at their tomfoolery.

"You mean the girl who punched you and you practically cried when she was like 14?" I ask, pulling my cigarettes out.

"She'd fucking kill you if she knew you were talking about her like this, Arthur." Finn says, smirking.

"Even if she were my so called woman, not that you'd ever be able to make her conform to that title, she cannot be owned. Not just because of feminism but she's too wild for that, she'd also punch me and that hurts." I state, lighting my cigarette.

"I think it's the other way 'round." John muses, gesturing with his cigar. "She's got you on the reigns."

"Have any of you lot seen Cora?" Polly asks as she bursts into the room, dressed in a fancy dress.

"No."

"Not seen her all morning."

"Not seen her since this morning."

"Me either."

"Fuck sake. She can do everything but turn up on time." Polly grumbles, shaking her head. "Well come on then. Time's getting on and the bride won't wait forever."

We all exit the room one by one, following Polly through the building but we stop short when we see Cora stepping into the entrance hall, looking up at the ceiling as she lights a cigarette, showcasing the thin but long scar on her throat that gave me nightmares when it happened.

"Shelbys!" She beams when she sees us, taking a drag of her cigarette, looking temptingly appetising.

"What time do you call this, Witton?" Polly barks, sending daggers Cora's way.

"There's plenty of time! Don't worry about it." Cora waves Polly off but all I can focus on is how good she looks.

Her dress has a few layers of thin, see through tulle with flowers embroidered into it, the underneath is a champagne sort of pink coloured dress that shines through subtly, the length sinks all the way down to her feet, it's cinched in at the waist with a controversial slit at the side showcasing her leg, and her sleeves are made of the same see through tulle that hangs off her shoulders to tickle her elbow in waves. Her hair is pinned up with a handful of thick curls dangling around her face, and her make up is subtle which really makes her green eyes pop.

She looks like an angel to put it simply.

"Careful, you'll catch flies." John smirks, elbowing me.

I push him back making him knock into Finn which causes him to start an argument.

The art of diversion.

"Nice dress." I comment when she looks over at me.

"Thanks, it has pockets." Cora replies, giving me a demonstration.

"Thought it was supposed to be the bride who's the prettiest today." I state quietly as no one seems to be listening to us.

"Aw, you're too kind." She smiles before pecking my cheek and guiding us towards the church.

***

An around of applause and cheers resonate in the tall church as Arthur and Linda kiss, I can't help but smile at the happy couple.

"How long?" Tommy jokes when he mumbles into my ear.

"Stop!" I laugh, continuing to clap.

"We're married!" Arthur announces as he and Linda turn to face everyone with grins.

Another round of applause goes around the room, mixed with whistles, hoots, and cheers. Arthur and Linda walk down the aisle as a newly wedded couple before everyone slowly begins to follow them for photos outside.

"I can't imagine you getting married." Tommy states when we stand up.

"I'm hurt, Thomas." I reply, shuffling out of the pew.

"You seem too... independent and strong." Tommy digs himself a bigger hole.

"What? So the point of marriage is supposed to break me?" I question with a chuckle.

"No, just the traditional way is that you'd stay at home, looking after the children, cooking or baking, and waiting for your husband to come home." He answers. "And that's not you... but I like that about you."

"I'm never stopping for some man, men don't deserve rights." I shake my head.

"Oh right." Tommy laughs, slinging his arm around my shoulders as we walk down the aisle. "I guess you work with a lot of males so you can say that."

"Thank you, for letting me, a woman, know what I can say and what I'm allowed to say, thank you husband." I joke and he bumps his hip against mine in response.

"The nagging wife part though, you've got that down." Tommy replies, weaving us through people as I lace our hands together with the hand that was dangling in front of my chest from where his arm is draped over my shoulders.

"Fuck off." I laugh, the fresh spring air hitting my face as we enter the outside, gathering at the back of the large group of people posing for photos.

"You love it." He grins before pressing a kiss to my cheek as I laugh.

A flash blinds me momentary, and I inwardly groan.

A few more photos, Tommy and I trying to annoy each other, and laughs later and we head off to the party.

***

"I've known Arthur since I was like 15, it feels weird to watch him get married after all this time." I tell a stranger that I've been talking to for the past 10 minutes.

"I've grown up with Linda, I've not heard the end of this wedding since she was 10." Linda's cousin makes a joke which I fake laugh at, before taking a sip from my flute of champagne. "Are you getting married anytime soon?"

"Oh, no, god no." I shake my head, chuckling.

"Really? Aren't you with Arthur's brother, what's his name? Thomas is it?" She questions.

"Tommy? We're not really together, well we aren't... Thomas is amazing but..."

"But?" She smiles warmly as if she's just done something.

Why aren't we together is the better question, Tommy is everything I've ever wanted, he respects me, makes me feel like I'm more special that I am, is always there for me no matter what, and can make me feel so carefree, I'm in love with him but he's just not.

"But he isn't one for relationships." I answer. "I'm gonna go annoy some of your family, you make me think when I'm here to get drunk. I don't like that."

Her smile falls and I float off towards a group of strangers, ready to judge.

"I heard that the Shelbys shot someone who accidentally bumped into them once." A middle aged man says quietly.

Perfect, this is the group I want to annoy.

"Really? I heard that they give their children guns." A little younger woman matches his tone.

"That's nothing, I heard that they stab children who beg." I cut in, doing this big exaggerated look around the circle.

"I heard that they hurt people who gossip." Polly comes out of no where, and I can't help but smirk at her when she meets my eyes.

"Are you two Shelbys?" A snooty woman questions with a sigh before sipping her drink.

"No." I answer, which isn't a lie.

"I'm Arthur's aunt and she's his brother's girlfriend." Polly states and I glare at her, before tucking my hair behind my ear and subtly flipping her off, which she suppresses a smirk at.

"Oh, I see. You seem like lovely people." Another woman replies with a tight lipped smile.

"We are." I nod.

"If you stay on the right side of us." Polly adds, lighting a cigarette.

"But if you don't, we'll drag you through hell."

"Simple really." Polly shrugs lightly.

"Of course... we're family now, nothing but love." The same woman replies with a nervous laugh.

As Polly makes them more uncomfortable I look over my shoulder at Tommy across the room, who's sitting at a large table with a few people but I don't think he's interacting with anyone really, cigarette and liquor in hand. He gives me a wink which makes me smile, and he gestures for me to come over with a nod of his head.

Leaving the group and Polly, I cross the room all the way to my best friend who takes a drag from his cigarette as I stand behind him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, letting my hands dangle above his chest life a necklace.

"Are you done antagonising Linda's family?" Tommy questions with a tiny chuckle.

"Not yet. They're so judgy." I reply, accepting Tommy cigarette when he offers it to me.

"Where do you think Linda gets it from?" He rhetorically asks.

"You look very pretty." I inform, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead when he looks up at me.

"If I look pretty you must be the prettiest person in the world." Tommy says, fiddling with my hands.

"Always a charmer you Shelbys." I tease.

"Eh we know how to talk the talk." He jokes, squeezing my hand. "Do you wanna dance?"

I look out at the dance floor where all the couples seem to be, it's a little bit crowded but seems comfortable.

"Sure." I nod and Tommy stands up before offering his hand with a boyish smile.

I match his smile and take his hand, Tommy leads us to the dance floor where I place my hand on his shoulder, keeping the other comfortably in his hand, whilst Tommy places his hand on my lower back. The song is quite a fast paced one, so there's no room for a slow dance.

Tommy and I expertly shuffle through the dance floor, him twirling me out every now and then, as we talk and laugh. "Why are old ladies so judgy?"

"I don't know, their better days are behind them and they can't get over that." Tommy offers an amused suggestion.

"I think it's because they---" I cut myself off with a squeal when Tommy surprises me by twirling me out into the dance floor making me laugh. "Give me a warning next time!"

He just smiles down at me as he looks into my eyes. "No, I like making you laugh."

"You always make me laugh, especially with your questionable choices." I tease, squeezing his hand. "I mean what were you thinking letting Finn---"

"I'm not going into this again, he wanted to do it and who am I to say no?" Tommy replies with a light laugh. "That would make both of us a hypocrite."

"We were more mature at the time..."

"Oh really? That's what you call maturity?" Tommy questions amused, as we swiftly move through the crowd as the song begins to end.

"We may have broken a few things but there's no harm done." I state, letting Tommy spin me one last time before a slower song comes on and we match our dancing to the rhythm.

"Sure, no harm done." He mocks me with a laugh, which makes me laugh.

Thomas sways us through the bunches of people as we lapse into a comfortable silence, settling into our own worlds.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, Cora." Tommy tells me, continuing to sway us as he looks deep into my eyes and it feels like he's looking into my soul.

All I can do is smile.

"Yeah? You think?" I chuckle and he matches my smile.

"Mm." He hums, with a nod.

"That's alright, because I think I'm falling in love with you, too." I reply, causing him to break out into the biggest smile.

We pause our moving, standing still amongst all the other couples dancing. Tommy cups my face with his hands and goes to kiss me. "What about your family?" I question, when were mere inches away.

He smiles. "Fuck 'em, they all practically know anyway."

I reply by closing the gap between us, kissing my best friend in the middle of the dance floor as couples dance around us whilst we're stood still, in the midst of his brother's wedding. Tommy's thumb brushes my cheekbone gently as we stand in our own bubble, oblivious to what's going on around us, smiling into our kiss.

"I love you, Cora Witton." Tommy utters, pressing his forehead against mine with a smile.

"I love you, Tommy Shelby." I utter back, kissing him again which makes my toes curl.

"What do you say we finish this dance, get a little drunk, and then go home?" Tommy suggests, tucking some hair behind my ear. "If you can handle Linda's stare that long that is because from where I'm looking, she doesn't look that happy that we stole the spotlight from her on her wedding day." Tommy chuckles, looking over my shoulder at his family.

I look over at them too, seeing how they look shocked yet look like they expected it, and I meet Linda's glare, happy at how I've pissed her off.

"You're such an attention whore." I joke, looking back at Tommy.

"You know it." He smirks and begins to sway us again.

It feels like everything I've ever worked for in my life has led up to this moment. This is what I get after years of struggling, and fuck is it worth it.

"I want this song to play at our wedding."

"Oh, we're getting married now are we?" I chuckle fondly, liking the sound of that.

"If all goes to plan, yeah."

[cherrybyunss]

Ship: Jeno x Reader Word Count: 1.9k Tags: Smut, Explicit, Oral (F/M receiving), Fingering, Overstimulation, Protected Sex

An excerpt from When It Gets Risky: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31129871/chapters/76918949

Excerpts Masterlist

_________

“I never asked you how you feel.”

You looked at him questioningly before he continued.

“Friday must have been tiring, right?”

“Oh,” you said realizing. “No, it was fine.” You smiled. “You guys are great company. I had the time of my life.”

“Really?” He laughed. “What did you like so much?”

“Everything! The drinks, the games, the dancing.” You said, stepping a little towards the mirror to get a good look at yourself. “Too bad we didn’t get any dares together.”

After having fixed you hair and internally – almost externally – blown yourself a kiss in the mirror, you turned around. And to say looking back at Jeno had caught you off guard would have been an understatement.

Jeno had leaned back, half his weight resting on his palms, and was staring at you with a small smile on his face, as if taking your form in, showing no sign of looking away. His aura had somehow changed in the matter of just a few seconds.

“What kind of dares were you hoping for?” He said.

“I don’t know.” You managed to suppress a smile threatening to form on your face. “You tell me.”

He scoffed. “I’d rather not say.”

You smiled. You wondered why the two of you were wasting time when both of you knew, right from when the study session was first proposed that it was going to turn into this. There really was no way around it. Not when the tension between the two of you would just not stop spiraling, waiting to snap. Probably the thrill of the chase.

But now that you were, you decided to fuck shit up a little.

You pretended to play with your earring till it came off loose and fell down on the ground, and rolled under the bed. Lucky.

You turned around, and not without throwing the boy a little glance over your shoulder, lowered yourself on all fours, and bent down further to fetch the piece of accessory, your ass up in the air.

Your skirt probably barely managing to cover you up, you made sure to spend more time than was necessary in the position. The earring wasn’t even that far away.

You had to hold back laughter as you straightened yourself up on the floor. You turned to him and smiled, putting the earring back on.

Jeno had been staring at you with slightly narrowed eyes. You feigned innocence.

“What’s wrong?” you asked with a slight tilt of head.

Jeno didn’t reply with words, instead, beckoned you over to him with his finger.

The authoritative gesture made you clench a little, the anticipation in your stomach feeling like butterflies every now and then, as you obeyed and crawled towards him.

He observed your every move carefully, and when you were close enough, he pulled you on top of his lap making you straddle him. Your hands automatically went around his neck, and his found their way onto your waist.

He gave your waist a little squeeze, making you squirm, and leaned in to whisper against your neck. “You seem to be really enjoying this.”

You smiled as you played with the hair on his nape. “Aren’t you?”

“Fuck, you’re hot.” He whispered as he planted a long kiss on your neck. You sighed.

“Says you.” You said as you tugged on his hair lightly and he looked up. “Do you know how many girls at school want you to fuck them?”

He smirked. “Do you know how many guys wanna fuck you?” He said, pushing your hair out of your face.

You rolled your eyes. “Guys wanna fuck anyone.”

Jeno chuckled as you smiled. “Selling yourself short?”

“Oh, no.” You said, and leaned in to whisper against his ear before planting a kiss right under. “I know the effect I have.”

You kissed his neck all over, figuring out the spots that made his grasp on your waist tighten, and paying special attention to them.

His hands wandered under the hem of your top, his cold touch on your bare skin making you shudder, your heavy breaths against his neck not helping his case either. You shifted a little, feeling his bulge against your clothed core, and grinded against him. He gasped and grabbed your waist tight.

You knew he wasn’t the type to let you dominate. So riling him up was going to serve you good. You felt yourself getting more turned on by the second. You wanted him to manhandle you. The image of his strong arms, veiny hands, and his deep voice clouded your brain.

You were snapped back to reality when he lifted the two of you off the floor, your eyes widening a little at how effortless the whole thing felt, and kissed you.

The kiss was deep, every bit savored for as long as you could take it. He climbed on his bed, again, effortlessly, and let you fall back onto the soft surface, reattaching your lips as soon as they had parted.

“Take this off.” You said weakly, tugging at his t-shirt.

He leaned back and stared you down with for a split second before tugging his shirt off.

And your eyes widened when he did. Jeno was built like a fucking Greek god. Fuck, was everything about him going to keep your fucking toes?

You looked up at him and straightened yourself up on the mattress. You took your top off and he helped you, your hands coming back down to rest on his torso as you leaned in and kissed his chest.

He gently pulled a strap of your bra down and placed a kiss on your shoulder. You sighed. His hands reached the hook on the back, and following your permission, he unclamped it.

When you kissed again, you felt hyperaware of his every move, and of every spot your bodies were touching even though it was anything but soft. Sex with Jeno was going to be overwhelming and you knew it.

You were under him, a fire igniting on every single spot on your body that he’d kiss. And you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped you when he latched onto a spot on your belly and sucked, which, obviously, did nothing to make him stop.

“Jeno, fuck!”

“You’ve such a good body, what the fuck.”

As if he was one to talk. You swore you’d have protested if the boy above you wasn’t driving you crazy.

He sat up a little to make sure you could see him.

“Fuck me.” You said before he could ask. His eyes widened a little, following which he smiled and kissed you.

“Let me make you cum first. Need to get you ready.” He said as his hands travelled south, making you breathe heavy in anticipation.

He got rid of your skirt and panties, letting the cold air hit your wet heat, making you take in a sharp breath. He brought two of his finger upto your mouth and tapped your lower lip to let them in. You did. He looked intently at you as you sucked on the digits while your own travelled down to touch where you needed to be touch the most, feeling hot and bothered just from his fingers.

He leaned in. “I saw you staring at my hands.” He said, catching you off guard. “What were you thinking of? How my fingers would feel inside you? How good they’d make you feel?” You shut your eyes close, and rubbed your clit like your life depended on it. You needed to cum. “Let’s show you how, shall we?”

He retreated his fingers from your mouth and removed your hand, replacing it with his own. He parted your folds, and sighed at how wet you were.

He pressed your clit with the pad of his thumb, making you almost shriek, before he began his merciless torment. He held you in place with the rest of his hand, a necessary deed with the way he worked his thumb on you, and pushed one, then two fingers inside, successfully knocking all the air out of you.

“Jeno!!” You screamed. But that was just the start. His fingers felt as good as they had looked, if not more, if that was even possible. He curled his fingers inside, letting the tip stroke a very sensitive area and making you yelp. “Ahh, fuck!!”

You caught a glimpse of him looking at you, with hooded eyes, taking in every inch of your body reacting to his touch. The image made you whine and clench around his fingers. “Fuck.” He said under his breath.

Your mind went haywire with the heat you could feel in and around you. “I’m gonna cum!” You said. And his pace on you fastened. You saw stars as your orgasm washed over you.

Before you could come down from you high, he found his way between your legs and pressed his tongue flat against your core. You gasped. One flick of his tongue and you were screaming. “Jeno, what the fuck!” He lapped onto your arousal, abusing your sensitive clit, driving you to a point of insanity, or at least that’s how you felt in the moment.

Your legs trembled as your second orgasm came fast and strong, knocking your entire strength out of your body. You breathed heavily as he let you ride it out this time.

“Now you’re ready.” He whispered, making you shiver. You stared at him as he sat up on his knees and unbuttoned his jeans. As soon as his cock sprung out, you knew what he meant.

Jeno was huge.

You drooled at the sight as you leaned in and took him in your hand. You looked up at him and kissed the tip.

He caressed your hair. And you saw it as encouragement. You took the tip inside your mouth and licked the bottom. He breathed in. You took him in deeper, hollowing your cheeks out to create a suction. He hissed in pleasure. You were enjoying every single bit a bit too much.

You kept up at it for a while before he pulled away. You looked at him questioningly, and he just passed you a smile.

He grabbed a condom from a drawer in the side table next to his bed and took no time putting it on and getting into position between your legs.

“I’ll go in now.” He said and you nodded

He slid in with a delicious stretch, and no pain, owing to your orgasms a while ago. In no time, he filled you up and you wanted to cry at how amazingly good he felt.

He pulled out almost entirely, making you whine, before pushing back in one sharp thrust, knocking the air out of you. “Fuck! Jeno, please don’t stop doing that!”

With that, he pounded into you hard. Every single thrust making you cry out in ecstasy. Tears trickled down the sides of your face as you tried to muffle your moans against Jeno’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck!!” Jeno was apparently too much for your already sensitive vagina to take.

And at that, his thrusts got harder, making you scream.

“Do it.” He said in a low voice. “Cum for me.”

That was all you needed to let go. You saw white for the third time, screams you tried hard to muffle filling the room.

He came right after, your orgasm giving him the last bit of spur he needed. Both of you breathed heavily as he gently rested his forehead on yours.

_________

Read the entire fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31129871/chapters/76918949

Excerpts Masterlist

[t-lostinworlds]

Wish You Didn’t (Peter Parker)

a/n: hello, hello. here’s another angst fic as ‘tradition’ since this is my first ever full peter parker fic so yeah, please be kind alska. this is very fluffy from the start but then it’s all downhill from there lol, hope you enjoy this one <3

pairing: peter parker x female reader trope/genre: song fic - Wish You Didn’t Love Me by Jake Miller; best friends to...well; fluff and angst summary: You love Peter Parker with all that you have, but somehow, he doesn't find that as a good thing. Despite feeling the same way, to protect you, Peter wish you didn't love him at all. warnings: wholesome cuteness at the start to set you up for heartbreak, brief dark thought from peter, and swearing. word count: 13.9k+ (i mean, what’s new)

masterlist on bio & pinned post

-:-:-:-:-

"Ugh."

Peter looked up from his textbook just in time to see you drop your bag on the table and then plop yourself down on the seat across him in the library. There was a look of pure frustration on your face, his brows furrowing at the sight of the deep frown written on your lips.

"What's up?" Peter asked, twirling his pen in his fingers as he tilted his head at you in concern.

You let out a big sigh, meeting your best friend's gaze with your frown still intact. "I've got a debate coming up tomorrow," you grumbled dejectedly.

The crease between Peter's brows could only deepen at your words.

You were the best on the debate team, always at the ready to take whatever topic it was thrown at you, headstrong. You're always excited to gush to him about what could be your winning argument, what would put the opposing team at a standstill. So, to see you be somewhat upset about an upcoming debate, it was so unlike you.

Maybe because it seemed last minute but by the looks of it, Peter can't help but feel like it was more than that.

"What's it about?" he asked.

You blew out your cheeks, hand coming up to play with the notebook he had on the table before you blurted out,

"Spider-Man: Friend or Foe."

Peter cleared out his throat just as he turned the page of his book to hide it, sitting straighter in his seat, pretending to get back to reading to avoid your gaze.

He didn't tell you.

Years and years of being best friends yet you didn't have an ounce of clue that you were sitting right across the person who was going to be the topic of your debate.

Peter trusts you of course, he trusts you with his life. His reason was simple really: he just didn't want to drag you into it.

Plus, knowing how worried you can get, he just didn't want to put you through all of that, especially on top of all things college and with what's going on in your personal life. He already feels so guilty with the stress he's put May through, he can't bear to see you have that burden too.

And most importantly, Peter just wanted to protect you.

"Still don't see why you're bummed about it," he said with a shrug, gaze running over the text printed on the paper but none of it was going inside his mind.

"I got picked to defend him."

Peter's head shot up at that, eyes narrowing on your seated form as he asked, "Oh, so you think he's a foe?"

"No..." you trailed off, eyes wandering around his slightly messy table littered with notes, textbooks and books, highlighters and everything in between. "Not really."

Closing his book, Peter leaned forward, arms rested on the surface with his full attention now on you. "Care to elaborate?"

You pursed your lips, shifting in your seat as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I mean, he's probably got good intentions but I've read about the Sokovia accords you know," you started, Peter nodding to show you that he was following. "And it's a debate. The other party would do their best to make him out to be a reckless vigilante. I can already think of so many arguments that they'd throw."

"Such as?"

"That he could be doing this for fame and attention, or that he is doing good things but his drive to do them isn't exactly the best. Is it for revenge? Bragging rights or maybe something darker? Another one could be that he's young, careless and naïve. We don't know what he's really capable of superpower wise which means he can probably hurt innocent people in the future.

"Not to mention if he's on the right or wrong side of the law. Who has to pay for the collateral damages that he has caused? Is it right to let him go scot free? I could go on and on and I just," you paused, resting one arm on the table and then placing your head on it as you looked up at your best friend. "I can't really counter those things with full force because I don't really know the dude nor do I have any real, solid facts about him to back up my claim that he's completely on the good side."

"Research hasn't done you good has it?" Peter hummed, a soft smile playing on his lips as his hand came up to poke your cheek, a sweet attempt to try and rid of your frown.

You shook your head no with a deepened pout, taking his hand away from your face with your own free hand as your nimble fingers then played with his absentmindedly.

Peter's heart grew warm at the gesture.

"There's literally nothing on this spider dude aside from blog posts written by fanboys and girls gushing about how amazing he is. Which is never a great source since it's already so biased," you explained.

"What would truly help you aside from research?" he queried, eyes trained on the way you interlock your fingers together and then letting it go only for a second before interlacing them again, letting it go and repeat. It was such an adorable habit of yours, one that Peter has grown so fond of, your touch always delicate and sweet whenever you fidget with his hand.

"An interview I guess? It'd be nice to get to ask him a few questions. Like, it would help to know why I'm on his side. Get a perspective on why he does what he does, you know?" you sighed, eyes fluttering close with your frown still intact. "At least that way, I know I'm defending someone who I know is worth defending."

Peter hummed as he tore his eyes away from your intertwined hands and back on your sprawled out upper-half on the table. He pursed his lips, gaze on the dip and valleys of your beautiful but stressed face. His brain grew at odds the more he took in your deep frown—one he always hates seeing no matter the reason—as he raked his thoughts on what he could possibly do to help without having the trouble of revealing his secret to you.

"But it's genuinely impossible to talk to him—"

"You could send him an email," Peter blurted before he gave himself time to properly process his words. Hell, he didn't even get to weigh the odds and dangers of his proposition. But now that it already slipped out his mouth—

Shit. I don't think this is a good idea...

Your eyes snapped open as you gaped up at him, brows deeply furrowed as you wondered, "Spider-Man...has an email?"

Too late to back out now, Parker.

"Well, all the Avengers do, under Stark Industries to be specific," Peter said in the most nonchalant way he can muster. "Since, you know, Stark tech in their suits, modifications, upgrades, what color they want it as, etcetera, it's how they talk about those stuff."

You abruptly sat up, dropping his hand as you laid both of your palms flat on the table, eyes now twinkling with hope and excitement. "You think he'd actually see it?"

"Yeah, not many people know about it so," he trailed off with a shrug, opening his book again and flicking through the pages.

You leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze as you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. "How'd you know?"

Peter scoffed with a shake of his head, never looking away from his book given that you'd notice his lie right off the bat if he does so. "I don't know Y/N, probably because I work there," he pointed out. Well, technically it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either.

"And you're giving me it?"

He shrugged, finally meeting your gaze. "I don't see why not? As long as you don't share it around or sell it," Peter warned, shooting you playful glare.

"Yes! Oh my—you are the best," you exclaimed excitedly, jumping out of your seat and rounding the table to give him a back hug. "You're a lifesaver Pete, thank you." With one last squeeze, you pulled away and swiftly snatched your bag, feet in a rush as you treaded towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Peter asked bemusedly.

"Sending the email! Hopefully I can talk to him tonight!" you called back to him.

Peter can't help but shake his head at you with a laugh, "I haven't even given you the email!"

"Just send—"

Sssh!

"Oops, sorry," you whispered, finger over your lips as you rushed back to his side with a bright smile. "Just text me it please? Love you," you hummed, hand landing on his shoulder as you leaned down to place a swift but sweet kiss on his cheek.

The skin where your lips once were quickly turned pink, Peter's heart skipping countless beats at that four-letter word, unable to conjure any response the more he thinks about the actual weight of the warmth that's grown in his chest. He's heard you say it to him many times before of course, but despite holding a different meaning—one with friendship laced around it—it never fails to make Peter's heart soar.

Albeit wanting it to mean something else, something more, Peter knows he shouldn't. Always quick to silence his heart on screaming for more given that it wasn't ideal, for your sake. He always reminds himself that he already feels utmost content with what he has with you now, content with the love you make him feel even if it's only to an extent.

It was enough, for your sake.

Nothing but adoration coated his features as his eyes followed your every movement. His heart grew even more when you beamed at him once you pulled away, ruffling his hair playfully before hurrying out of the library, shooting him one last smile and a wave before disappearing from sight.

Peter can't wipe his own grin off his face, just the sight of your beautiful smile and your joyful eyes, easily contagious on his part. But then realization dawned on him and the curve slipped away, replaced by a frown laced with panic as he pulled out his phone to check the time.

"Shit."

He quickly gathered up his things and rushed out of the library, taking the back door out of the building to the nearest alley. Peter had his eyes glued to his screen the whole time as he quickly made a fake but believable enough email before sending it to you.

***

"Heard you were looking for me?"

You let out a yelp, jumping a few inches back as you spun around towards the direction of the voice. A hand flew over your chest the moment your eyes landed on a figure, shock befalling you as you froze. He was squatted down on the ledge of the rooftop of your apartment building, red and blue faint under the night sky. "Oh my—uh, hi," you squeaked, eyes blinking rapidly to see if what you're seeing was actually real.

The wind was blowing cold, your black pants, plain t-shirt and jean jacket doing just enough to minimize it. The sound of the streets of Manhattan was echoing below, very busy but faint due to your distance from the ground, enabling you to still hear his voice loud and clear when he spoke again.

"Hi, I'm Spider-Man," he introduced as he offered you his hand, masked eyes trained on you as you cautiously walked towards him.

"I know. I'm Y/N," you said, hesitantly reaching out to take his hand, the material of his suit rough against your palm as you shook it. You were in absolute awestruck, eyes glowing with wonder as you did nothing but gape at him.

"I know," he said and you can practically hear his smile behind the mask. He gave your hand a squeeze, the odd feeling that coursed through your bones made you tilt your head at him in mere curiosity, brows furrowed in utter confusion. Mr. Spider-Man swiftly cleared out his throat, eyes casted down as he quickly let go of your hand. "It's on your email," he added hastily.

"Oh, yeah," you muttered. A few seconds passed and you just stood there, staring at him like some star struck fan as you rubbed your hands together in both the cold and slight nerves. After a few seconds more, you finally spoke, "Wow, okay, I didn't expect for you to actually show up."

You don't know where to actually begin.

The first thought you had after sending the email was that he'd never actually see it, or if he does, he'll simply ignore it. You had been ready to wait out in the cold for a couple hours, anticipated the letdown to be frank. Yet here he was, the Spider-Man, right in front of you who, amazingly, even arrived right on time.

Spider-Man was making you nervous.

Normally, you have no problem with doing interviews. It is a form of research after all, and being on the debate team, you've done countless of it. But right now feels different.

Maybe it was the fact that he was a fucking superhero. He's someone who has actually done quite a lot and has probably seen and experienced other worldly things just as much if not more. Or maybe it's the fact that you simply don't know where this will go from here.

Will it do well that you'd get to ask proper questions and get answers that would truly help or will he get cocky and rude that this interaction would only end up being a waste of time?

Despite being famous, he was a complete mystery to everyone. The person behind the mask was wholly unknown and that itself makes you very nervous.

With a shrug, he said, "Well, wouldn't pass helping a friend."

"Are you making your voice deep?" you asked, the sound of his voice a little too...computerized for it to be normal.

He nodded. "Voice modulator, it helps keep my secret identity, well, a secret."

"Oh, yeah, figured."

You stayed quiet again after that, arms crossing over your chest as you kept your gaze steady on him, features coated with a mixture of emotions from confusion, amazement, curiosity and everything in between.

He chuckled softly, probably noticing your painfully obvious shyness. "Got questions for me?" he prodded.

You blinked a few times before frantically nodding, recalling how you specifically said in the email that you just wanted to ask a few questions. You then took out your phone, showing him the voice recording app and asked, "Is this okay?"

Spider-Man tilted his head at you with a soft hum.

"Yeah, I trust you with it."

You smiled.

The pressure and nerves turned lighter on your shoulders as you somewhat felt more comfortable...safe around him. And there's just something about the fact that he trusts you that warms your bones. It's like he's certain you only have his best intentions in mind, as if he knows you weren't in this for a selfish gain. It's really comforting in a sense, makes you feel confident that you're on the right track.

It makes you feel good about yourself.

With a soft nod, you hit record, words of curiosity slipping out of your lips soon after. "Those webs, do they come out from you?"

"No, they don't," he chuckled, taking out a vile from his wrist and then handing it to you. "That is what you call web fluid and I make them."

You gingerly took it in your hands, eyes scanning it briefly before you gave it back. "Impressive."

"Thanks. So, the fluid is like the bullets and these right here"—he showed you the black bands on his wrists with his hands open—"Are the web shooters that make me well, shoot webs. Like so," he explained as he pressed the button on his palm, the webs streaming out soon after and snatching an empty can on the far corner before it landed back in his hand.

You pursed your lips with a nod. "So, you can make weapons," you said with a certain tone in your voice that caused him to shift in his place.

"I—uh, no?" he stuttered, placing the can back on the ground loudly and in a not-so-subtle way. "I will never build a nuclear bomb if that's what you're wondering," he rushed when you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion.

"Didn't say anything about a nuclear bomb," you pointed out with a tilt of your head.

"I-I'm, uh, I didn't—"

"I'm just messing with you," you cut him off with a soft laugh, your nerves diminishing swiftly at how he seemed to be a little shy and awkward but in an endearing way. It makes him appear more human, normal. "You're so tense, just relax."

"Yeah…okay," he breathed out. He turned around to face the city, going from crouching to fully sitting down on the ledge, hands folding on his thighs as he looked at you over his shoulder. He jerked his head, gesturing for you to come closer to which you gladly did.

You leaned on the concrete with soft hum, placing your phone beside his thigh so it was now between you both. You scanned the beautiful city with a content smile, the view never ceasing to amaze you despite seeing it too many times before. The rooftop is your best escape after all. It was nice to be far away from everything, even if it's only for a moment. Nothing but peace coats you whenever you're up here, may it be from the gentle gush of the wind or the bright shine of the moon that spreads throughout the blanket of black sky.

With a sigh, you looked up at the mask man beside you. Flustered was what you came to be when you noticed that he was already staring at your face, the white and black of his eyes looking somewhat soft, and you swear he looked almost as if he's smiling behind the mask. Warmth was quick to coat your body, a stark contrast to the cold breeze as you cleared your throat, causing him to swiftly look away.

"Sorry, I'm just a little nervous," he chuckled shyly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Really want to impress you."

You felt your cheeks heat up, a timid smile growing on your lips as you shrugged. "No need to impress anyone, let alone me," you said. "Just be yourself Spider-Man."

Oh, I truly wish I could just be myself right now Y/N—

"Okay," Peter hummed with a smile.

"Are you sure this is fine?" you asked, gesturing towards your phone in the middle of you two. "I don't want to intrude or make you feel uncomfortable by recording our conversation."

Peter's heart grew warm as his smile widened. Always considerate you are, too kind for your own good. If it was someone else, he probably would've had loads of pictures taken by now. Or maybe even a hidden camera somewhere to catch him at the wrong moment. Many of which would then be posted on the internet to spread like wildfire. Not that he minded the photos and videos but it's off putting sometimes, especially when they churn out not-so-good headlines to match.

"Promise me you won't share or sell it?" he joked, mentally cursing himself soon after once he realized it's the same words he said to you earlier in the library. Although he felt a wash of relief right away when you didn't seem to notice as you only flashed him a sweet smile in return.

"I promise," you hummed, turning to face him as you leaned sideways on the ledge. "What other superpowers do you have?"

"Enhanced abilities such as super strength, I can run fast and heal fast. Dialed up senses meaning I can see, hear, smell and feel things on another level. I'm...sticky, meaning I can climb up walls and stick to stuff like how a spider would. And oh, spider sense," Peter elaborated, watching with amusement as he saw your eyes change from awe, confusion, to impressed and back to confusion.

"Spider sense?"

"I can sense danger and threats when it's coming, like I feel a tingle."

"That's really cool," you hummed, hand rapidly lifting up as you took a fast and big swing towards his shoulder. He caught your fist in his hand way before you could even have the chance to land a punch.

Peter shook his head at you in pure amusement, giving your fist a squeeze before he let it go. "That wasn't so successful now was it?" he chuckled.

"It was worth a try. Just testing the waters to see if it would trigger your 'spidey sense' as you call it," you laughed, quoting the two words with your fingers teasingly.

"It didn't because one, anyone could see that punch from a mile away, and two, I said dangers and threats," he paused, tilting his head at you adoringly. "And you're not really a threat."

"Hey, I can be threatening," you scoffed, chin up with your chest puffed out.

Peter couldn't stop the laugh that escaped his lips. "I'm sure you can. I bet you can handle yourself well, especially with proper training." He took in a deep breath before saying, "But that's not really what I meant."

"What did you mean?

"That I feel safe around you."

"Oh." You blinked at him a few times before you fully broke his gaze, suddenly turning bashful as your eyes watched the busy street below where the cars and people were scurrying about in the cold New York night. Squaring your shoulders, you added, "Well, for what it's worth, I feel safer around you now too."

Peter felt his heart leap out of his chest, a proud smile erupting on his face, gaze dropping on the ground—or lack thereof—shyly as red started to dust his cheeks. "That's worth a lot," he hummed, lifting his head at the same time you did, your eyes locking immediately.

You beamed at him sweetly, shifting on your feet before letting out a breath. "Right, onto a more serious question," you paused, gesturing at the whole of him with your hand. "Why exactly are you doing this?"

"What do you think is the reason why I'm doing what I do?" he asked back, eyes trained on your face for a moment before he looked straight ahead. He can feel your orbs burning a hole on the side of his face, your brows furrowed in a way that Peter could do nothing but grin widely. He always found your thinking face endearing.

"I don't know, could be a lot of things. Could be money, glory, revenge, bragging rights, most likely fame?" you suggested.

Peter shook his head, keeping his gaze on the building across. "If I was doing this for fame, you'd think I would've shown my face by now?"

"Touché."

"But no," he breathed out, eyes now trained on his feet as he swung them aimlessly on the edge of the building. "I just want to help to the best of my abilities. I feel like I was given these powers, me, for a reason. If I'm not going to use it for a good cause then what's the point of having them?" Peter turned to face you, holding your gaze securely, even behind the mask as he continued, "If I'm not going to help out the little guy, even if I can easily do that then, who will? I can't simply watch the world fall apart when I could've done something to prevent it or provided a little bit of help, you know?"

You nodded. "With great power comes great responsibility."

Peter cracked a smile. "Yeah, exactly," he hummed, gaze dropping to stare at his gloved hands, turning it over before clasping it together with a sigh.

"How do you feel about the people who think you're not on the good side? That you have some hidden agenda?"

"I pity them if I'm being honest."

"How so?"

"I mean, if you're at a point in life where you can't accept that someone is helping simply for the sake of helping, then you've must've gone through a lot to not trust easily," Peter started, fingers fidgeting with his web shooters before he met your gaze. "We've been taught to always think that there's an incentive in all that we do. If you give, you have to receive and vice versa. But why can't we simply give and not expect something in return? People are so accustomed to the whole give and take thing that when someone just gives, it feels unfamiliar. That's why they get suspicious. They overthink that surely I'm doing this for something else when there's really no other reason than simply wanting to help.

"I also get it. It's a cruel world we're living in unfortunately where we have to keep one eye open. But I wish people would begin to accept that someone is helping to make the world a better place by simply wanting to have a safe and better place. No hidden agenda whatsoever," he finished, brown orbs catching sight of how your smile grew wider, brighter.

"You're a wise man," you said with an appreciative nod. "With a really good heart too."

"Thanks. I try my best."

"I'd say you've probably lived a life, traveled the world, seen so many new things, been to space," you trailed off, raising a brow at him in question.

"Yeah, you could say that," he chuckled.

"Are you a billionaire? Are you a prince in disguise or maybe a king? Are you a lawyer? Or maybe some kind of mythical being like Thor?" you poked.

Peter laughed, shaking his head as he shrugged. "Nah, I'm just a kid from Queens."

Shit.

Peter you fucking idiot. You absolute dumbass—

"Huh, I've got a best friend who's from Queens," you muttered, voice barely above a whisper but thanks to his enhanced hearing abilities, of course he heard it loud and clear.

Peter bit the insides of his cheek to stop his smile, even though you weren't going to see it anyway since he has a mask on. I know you do. "Come on, I want to show you something," he said aloud instead, standing up to his full height with his hand out for you to take.

You narrowed your eyes at his outstretched palm before you looked up at his masked face. "Are you going to kidnap me now and sell my organs?"

Peter threw his head back with a hearty laugh, the sound ringing in the air as he shook his head at you. "No, I'm going to show you New York from a different angle," he said, smiling widely as he leaned over closer, hand open wide. "Do you trust me?"

"You did not just quote Aladdin," you laughed, taking your phone off the ledge to stop recording before shoving it in your pocket.

Peter shrugged with a sheepish grin. "What if I did?"

You smiled widely at that, placing your hand securely in his and giving it squeeze. "Then yes, I trust you."

Peter hoisted you up on the ledge with ease, both of you now standing side by side on the edge of the building. A small squeak came out of you when you curiously looked down and saw that the ground was actually very far away, your grip on his hand tightening when all you could think of was splat. He chuckled, moving closer to you as he lifted your arm and placed it over his shoulders, your eyes snapping back up to look at his masked face.

"Is this okay?" he hummed, his arm wrapping around your waist strongly once you gave him a nod approval. "Hold tight," Peter said.

"Please don't let me go," you whispered, worry-filled eyes boring into his own while a mixture of both nervousness and excitement coated your features.

"Never."

Peter jumped.

You screamed.

The strong gush of the wind swiftly hit your face, hair whipping around as your grip around him tightened starkly. You felt your stomach churn while you swung in the air, passing one building to another, going high up and then dropping back down in a swooping motion. Your legs wrapped itself around his waist almost instinctively, all in fear of falling to your death.

"This was a bad idea!" you screeched, head buried on the crook of his neck, eyes shut tight ever since your feet left the ledge.

"Open those eyes Y/N! You're missing all the fun!" Peter laughed, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. He felt you slowly pull your head away from his neck, lids inching open one by one until you finally gawked at the wonderful lights and blaring colors of the city in awe.

Your mouth fell agape the more you took the sight in, the city a blur but somewhat beautiful in its own unique way. You loosened your grip around his shoulder just so you could lift a hand up in the air, a satisfied hum vibrating in your chest as you felt the cold wind brush through your fingertips in the most comforting way.

That's when you let out a gleeful laugh.

Peter felt his heart melt ten times over at the beautiful sound. His cheeks were hurting from grinning ear to ear the more he took in how you're having the best time.

You looked absolutely breathtaking, the city lights casting a glow over your features, eyes holding nothing but pure bliss and wonder with that lovely, bright smile of yours to match.

The city was pretty sure, Peter loves seeing it at night whenever he does his patrol. But you, you were gorgeous, a stunning sight that he could never ever have enough of. You never do fail to make his heart stop, never fail to take his breath away, never fail to make his limbs all weak and Peter found himself falling deeper despite trying his hardest not to.

"This is so cool—no!" you shrieked, eyes wide with fear as you shot high up midair and went free falling for a few horrifying seconds before you landed back into his embrace, slotting right into his chest. Peter laughed as you quickly went to latch onto him, your grip viselike with both arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. He wrapped an arm around you securely as his other hand held tightly on the web, both of you now face to face as you continued to swing in the air.

You lifted your head up to look at him fully, faces now inches apart as you stared right into each other's eyes. Peter felt his heartbeat quicken when your orbs held a certain spark, as if you could see the actual him right behind the mask. His eyes fell on your lips, slightly parted as you gawked at him. They look really soft, very pretty, inviting.

He gulped.

At that point Peter wasn't sure if he was thankful or annoyed that he was wearing a mask. Because if he wasn't, then he would've already done something he might regret—or not—later on, especially with the consequences that would come with it.

But when you opened your mouth to start to speak, that's when Peter grew even more nervous on what could possibly be running in your thoughts.

Did you figure it out?

You didn't get a chance to say whatever it was you wanted to say when all movements stopped, Peter releasing you from his hold right as you felt your feet touch the ground.

"That was mean," you said once you gently pulled away from him. "You said you wouldn't let me go," you added, adjusting your hair and clothes before you shot him a pout.

"I'm sorry, I got a little distracted," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy chuckle. It was a full on accident, mind preoccupied by all things you that he unconsciously loosened his grip around your waist which in turn, made you slip out of his grasp. "I'll always catch you though."

You pursed your lips at him with a tilt of your head. "If I hadn't known better I'd say you're flirting with me, Spider-Man."

Peter felt the heat rush up to his face in a split second. "I-I'm, uh—"

"Whoa," you cut him off once your eyes landed on the gorgeous city of Manhattan but much farther away and wider as you stood on a much higher building. The tall structures that surrounded the scene seemed like toys with their size, the lights that gleamed looking like little specks of stars floating in the air with the Empire State Building right at the middle of it all. "I haven't seen it this high up before," you said, giving him a swift glance before your eyes were back on the scenery. "It's really beautiful."

"Yeah, very beautiful," Peter sighed, brown orbs never leaving your features, his heart thumping in his chest, loud and fast, each beat all for you.

He walked over to where you were stood until your arms were brushing against each other. You spared him a glance, your smile wide and soft in a way that made his heart grow warm. But then you leaned your head on his shoulder and Peter swore he might as well die from a heart attack. If it were you with the enhanced senses, then you would probably catch him out quickly with how frantic and loud each beat his heart was making.

It wasn't new to him of course. You've always been the affectionate kind. And being your best friend, he's always at the receiving end of those affections.

But tonight feels a little different.

The fact that you feel safe around him without having to see his face, when all you see is Spider-Man, it makes his heart melt. The simple fact that you're comfortable when you're near him, that you can feel that you can trust him is really reassuring in a sense. It's like your heart is already familiar with who he is despite your brain—or your eyes—telling you that the person you're standing with right now is a complete stranger.

It feels really special when looking at it in that perspective, it makes Peter feel special.

Sudden boldness coursing through his bones, Peter snaked an arm around your shoulder with a gentle squeeze in the process. It took every ounce of his superhuman strength to keep his legs upright when you inched closer to his side, a soft breath coming out of you, a satisfied one. His eyes glowed with utmost adoration as it traced your features, from the soft smile playing on your lips to the twinkle in those irises as you kept your gaze on the stunning city in front. It baffles him how his heart quickened it's pace even more, just the sight of you in pure bliss. God he was so in love with you and you don't even have an ounce of clue.

Just say it out loud, tell her.

No, I can't. For her, I can't.

"It's getting late. I should probably head back home," you hummed, lifting your head off his shoulder to look at him. Peter nodded, arm dropping to your waist as he crouched down a little, just so you could sling an arm around his shoulder. "No dropping me this time," you warned, narrowing your eyes at him teasingly.

Peter laughed with a nod. "Yes ma'am."

The swing back to your apartment building took no time.

Despite wanting to drag the night out a little longer, Peter knew he can't do that to you when your debate was tomorrow, especially among countless papers and homework he knows you need to get to. Plus, he has his own errands he needs to tend to as well. Both of you landed on the ledge smoothly with you laughing at some bad joke he made. Peter helped you down like the gentle man that he is and giving your hand one last squeeze before he lets it go.

"Thank you for tonight," you said as you turned to his figure that remained standing on the ledge. Nothing but a wide, genuine smile played on your lips as you added, "Everything of tonight."

"Don't mention it," Peter said sweetly. "I had a really great time with you—shit. I hope that doesn't sound creepy or anything but I really did enjoy tonight, you know, our conversation, getting close with you and feeling you close to me while we were swinging...okay, I'll stop talking."

You let out the sweetest giggle that Peter could do nothing but swoon, his eyes softening as he tilted his head at you with the most adoring smile he could ever have the pleasure of wearing.

"I had a great time being close with you, too," you hummed, holding his gaze for a moment before you casted your eyes at the ground shyly. Shifting from your heels and toes, you pointed towards the rooftop door, before timidly meeting his eyes again. "I should probably—"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Peter chuckled, shooting you a curt nod. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Spider-Man," you said, swiftly turning around as you went towards the door, giving him one last glance over your shoulder when you pulled it open. He gave you a wave in response, your smile widening before you slipped inside and closed the door right behind you.

Peter had the stupidest, most shit-eating grin on his face that he don't think he could ever wipe off, eyes fluttering close as he spread his arms wide. With a satisfied breath, he slowly leaned backwards, letting gravity take its course as pure euphoria coated every fiber of his being.

Never has he ever felt such joy, freedom and utmost content as Peter lets himself fall.

***

"Hello there."

Peter looked up from his notes only to be met by a set of green eyes, completely taking him by surprise since it wasn't the pair of orbs he was expecting—and really excited—to see. It confused him to the core as to why one of the most popular girls on campus was sitting down right in front of him in the library.

"Hi?" he said, word coming out more as a question than a statement as he furrowed his brows.

"Peter right? Marjorie," she introduced, hand coming across the table to which he shook gingerly.

"Yeah, that's me." Peter smiled shyly, the crease on his forehead deepening the more he raked his brain as to why she's talking to him in the first place. Of course he knows who she is, the whole school does. Hell, he can already hear the whispers of gossip echoing about all because she's sitting right at his table, or as a matter of fact, simply because she's in the room. That's how big of a deal she is.

Marjorie moved forward, both her arms resting on the table with her bust right on top of it, the low cut top she wore doing so little to hide it, cleavage right up his face. Peter was quick to look away with a clear of his throat, eyes trained on his notes as a blush coated his cheeks.

She suddenly brought two fingers under his chin, prompting him to look back up. "Look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you pretty boy," she purred, a sly smirk growing on her lips when his blush deepened. She inched closer until she was fully leaning over the table and into his space, her thumb running across his chin teasingly. Peter's eyes grew wide in downright surprise and confusion, keeping his gaze locked with hers and never looking anywhere else—mostly not looking down—as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Anyway, I heard you're really smart and I happen to find you really cute too. Not just a pretty face, aren't you Peter. So, I was wondering—"

Peter could feel you coming, hear you even, that all too familiar sound of your giddy and specifically patterned footsteps ringing in his ears. And dare he say it, he could smell your shampoo, the scent gradually growing stronger which was a clear indication that you were getting closer to the library.

He was left downright confused when you only stopped at the door, your heartbeat quickening by a mile as you stilled. Peter grew worried at the uneven sound of your breathing, all shallow and labored, the first thing that happens whenever you're in slight panic. He removed his eyes briefly from the girl across him only to see you turn on your heel in one swift motion and then completely disappearing from sight.

What was wrong? Where were you going?

"I, uh, I'm really sorry but I need to go." Peter quickly pulled his face away from Marjorie's hand, standing up from his seat all while shoving his things in his backpack. "I-It was nice meeting you," he said with a small smile before he sprinted towards the door.

He didn't see you anywhere near the building, didn't see you anywhere on campus at all.

It worried him even more when you ignored his texts and calls for the rest of the day. He knew your schedule but somehow, the moment he reached your class, you were already gone. Or maybe you hadn't even attended class in the first place. There was no other way of him knowing your whereabouts and he was growing really concerned by the second as to what had happened. So, he went with the last option he could think of on finding you quicker.

Peter slipped his mask on with a sigh, the sun already going down when he decided to try and pay you a visit in a very different set of clothes.

***

"Hi."

"What the fu—" You jumped with a yelp as you swiftly turned to face him, hand over your chest to try and calm your heart as you gaped at his masked face. "What are you doing here?"

Three times he's passed your apartment building and you weren't home. But by the fourth try, Peter's worry could only grow some more when he saw you out on the rooftop. You never stay out on the rooftop unless something was deeply bothering you.

"Wanted to know how the debate went," Peter reasoned, not the main agenda but it wasn't entirely a lie either.

"Well, my team won so that's great," you sighed dejectedly, leaning down to rest your elbow on the ledge while your chin landed on your palm.

"You don't seem enthusiastic? You still don't think I'm a friend?"

"No, no, I do now. It's just things in here." You tapped your temple, letting out another sigh when you brought your finger down to your chest, right where your heart is supposed to be and added, "Or in here rather."

Peter frowned. "What's up?"

"Who knew Spider-Man was into gossip," you teased, turning to flash him a small smile.

"Just curios," he hummed with a casual shrugged, settling himself down on the ledge, facing you this time around. "Besides, it's always better to let it out."

"It's just boy problems," you breathed out, eyes back on the orange tinted sky.

Peter felt a lump grow in his throat, heart sinking to his stomach at the thought of you thinking about another guy. He was quick to scold himself, telling his mind not to be selfish as he cleared his throat.

"Hit me."

"Well, there's this boy I like—" you stopped yourself, lips pursed as you started to fidget with your fingers, thinking face that Peter knows so well now in full play. "Actually no, I've been in love with him for as long as I can remember," you admitted.

The ache in Peter's heart grew sharper, painful and overwhelming that he felt his body run cold. His throat grew dry that he could do nothing but nod his head with a hum to tell you he's still following.

"He's amazing, greatest guy I've ever had the pleasure of knowing and he has never failed to show that he cares about me. He's always there for me, whenever he can anyway with his hectic life. And he makes me really happy." A love-struck smile grew on your lips, eyes glowing with adoration, face holding that look of love as you bask in the sunset. The golden glow made you look even more stunning, but Peter wasn't able to fully appreciate your beauty when his mind was too preoccupied with jealous thoughts. But a second later, the joy that's coated your features slowly faded off, now replaced by one with worry.

Peter tried his best to keep his tone steady. Despite having the voice modulator on, he knows it will pick up even the slightest shake and uncertainty. "But?"

"I truly can't figure out if he's acting the way he is because he feels the same way or all of it is just an act of friendship," you paused, taking in a deep breath as you shifted on your feet. "There are moments where I do think it's more but then there are moments where I see him with another girl and I start questioning it again. Like, am I reading things wrong? Am I getting too ahead of myself by thinking he could possibly feel the same way?" You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. "I don't even know how to convey my own feelings—"

"You could just tell him," Peter blurted to cut you off, not wanting to hear any more as the piercing pain in his chest could only deepen the more you talk about it. He's already got the drift anyway, no need for you to explain any further.

You turned to look at him fully with furrowed brows. "Just like that?"

Peter nodded. "You are an amazing girl Y/N," he said, nothing but utmost sincerity coating his voice. He just wants you to find someone who's going to make you happy and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. It seems like you've found exactly that, who was he to take that away from you by being bitter? Besides, Peter has long accepted that that someone is never going to be him. "Whoever this guy you're in love with, he's pretty lucky. If he doesn't see that then it's his loss. And if he doesn't feel the same way, then he's not the right guy for you because you deserve someone who'll love you unconditionally."

"You giving out relationship advice now too? A sideline if you're not saving the world?" you joked, only earning a shrug and a soft laugh from him. "But thank you." You flashed him a small but grateful smile.

"Always happy to help," he said. "I better get going, got a city to look after." Peter forced a smile, a useless tactic given that there was no way for you to see it anyway. He stood up to his full height before adding, "Congrats on the debate." He didn't even wait for a response when he swiftly jumped and swung as far away from your building as possible.

The second he landed on top of an abandoned warehouse, Peter immediately pulled his mask off. He couldn’t bear to leave it on a second longer or else he was going to suffocate. Sharp breaths escaped him as his back hit the brick wall, eyes screwed shut to stop any tear from slipping out of his burning eyes. He tried his hardest to calm his frantic heart, to minimize the pain by shoving his selfish thoughts away. He forced himself to think about you and your well-being instead, tried to convince himself that this was a good thing.

He doesn't doubt that this guy you're smitten with is a great one. The way you speak about him just screams it. Add that to you being great at judging character, then he knows you're in good hands. Despite it hurting like a ton of punches in the chest, Peter still hoped that whoever this guy is, he'll catch you in his arms openly and shower you with the truest love because you deserve nothing but. The pain would be worth it if he gets to see you be happy.

Peter knows that whoever this guy is, he would treat you rightly, give you everything you want and need in a way that Peter never could.

Slowly opening his eyes, he lets out a calming breath, mind slowly slipping at ease the more he thinks about how happy, content and safe you'll be with this guy if ever it will work out.

It hurts, unbearably, but his sliver of pain in exchange for your utmost happiness? Then Peter will gladly endure it.

***

The next day, Saturday noon, was when you finally decided to answer Peter's texts from the day before. You apologized for ghosting him, said you got preoccupied and left it at that. And then you asked if he wanted to go for a little stroll in the park, too make it up to him. Peter could never say no to you so here you were, side by side under the afternoon sun, aimlessly walking around a nearly deserted park outskirts of the main city.

"Why'd you disappear yesterday?" he asked, both his hands in his pockets while yours were looped in his. "I saw you stop by at the library but you didn't come and say hi."

You shrugged, eyes trained on the pavement as you kicked at the few rocks that were lying around. "Something came up," you simply said.

Peter can't help but feel a little sting when you didn't elaborate further. Well, he already knew what had happened but that was as Spider-Man. He was hoping you'd tell him too, as Peter Parker, your long time best friend.

"Thank you for the email by the way," you spoke again when he stayed quiet, lifting your head up to spare him a bright smile. "We wouldn't have won the debate if it wasn't for you."

"Winning the debate was all on you and that incredible brain of yours. I'm not going to take credit for that," he chuckled as he shot you a knowing look. Eyes back in front, Peter added, "But I'm always here to help. That's what best friends are for."

You hummed, letting go of his arm as you skipped ahead and treaded towards the nearest tree. "What's up with you and Marjorie?" you asked, settling down on the grass, legs straight with your right ankle over you left as you leaned back against the trunk comfortably.

"What's up with what?" Peter followed you with a deep crease between his brows, sitting right beside you soon after, mirroring your position under the shade.

"You tell me, you were almost kissing when I saw you in the library so," you trailed off, picking at the shreds of greenery, throwing it purposelessly as you still avoided his gaze. "Are you two a thing now?"

Peter shook his head with a roll of his eyes. "First off, we were not almost kissing and second, no, we're not a thing," he clarified, head turned for him to see you clearly. "I didn't even get to hear what she wanted because I immediately left," he chuckled.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his. "You bailed on her in the library?"

"Sort of?" Peter scrunched his nose.

"That's a very bold move, Parker," you giggled, bumping your shoulder with his teasingly. "Most guys would've died to just be in the same room as her."

Peter let out a hearty laugh, shrugging his shoulders and said, "Well, I guess I'm not like most guys."

Marjorie was pretty, Peter won't deny that, but she could never amount to you. Even right now, when you're just sitting beside him in casual jeans and sweater, a simple but very charming smile on your lips as you looked up at the clouds, Peter was already swooning ten times over. Then comes the memory of you looking so breathtaking while he took you around the city. The stunning glow on your face as you stared at the scene in awe was still deeply engraved in Peter's mind, and he knows for a fact that that image will never leave him. Not that he was complaining anyway.

"So, how did your meeting with Spider-Man go?" he asked after a few moments of silence. A shy smile slowly grew on your lips, one that made Peter lift a brow at you in suspicion.

"He's really cool," you breathed out, your grin growing wider as you kept your gaze steadily trained at the blue sky. "He's a gentleman too, a little shy and awkward but in a cute way. Plus, very wise and smart, like lived-a-life wise and genius smart. He then took me to swing around the city which was awesome," you gushed, a dreamy glow coating your face as you met Peter's eyes. "That night is going to be a night I'll remember for the rest of my life for sure."

Peter couldn't help the smug grin that grew on his face. "If I hadn't known better I'd say you have a crush on Spider-Man," he teased, wriggling his brows at you.

"Shut up," you scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

"It's obvious. You have that dreamy look on your face when you talk about him," he poked even more, nudging you with his elbow playfully.

"No, I don't," you laughed as you pushed him away. "Besides, I've got my eyes on someone else already."

Peter's heart sunk.

He found himself playing with the sleeves of his hoodie as he avoided your gaze, trying his hardest to keep his feelings at bay before you'd notice the change in his demeanor. "Care to share with your best friend?" he offered, wondering if you're finally willing to tell him about this mystery guy.

You stayed quiet, eyes fluttering close as you rested your head on his shoulder. Peter kept his gaze steady on you, everything else silent aside from the sound of the rustling leaves of the tree. But then you let out a nervous breath, heartbeat picking up the pace in a way that made Peter grow curious as to what's on your mind.

"I love you," you blurted out of the blue, a slight shake in your voice as you kept your eyes shut.

Although confused, Peter responded, "I love you too—"

"No, Peter," you paused, shifting in your place, pulling away from him as you sat up straighter. You finally met his brown orbs, all while countless of emotions swam in yours. "I love you," you whispered but with your voice firm and laced with pure sincerity, eyes holding his with such intensity that he quickly understood.

Peter stared at you in shock.

Slowly, but surely, everything started to click inside his head. The confession you shared with Spider-Man. When you said you'd seen this guy with another girl...the library. Was that why you quickly ran out? When you saw...almost kissing. Was that the reason why your heart suddenly grew at panic?

The guy you were gushing about so fondly, the same one you said you were in love with for a long time now, the one Peter was growing jealous of...it was him.

You were talking about him, Peter Parker.

He grew at a loss for words as he gawked at you, a smile growing on his lips as he felt his heart stop its course and then beat again but with twice the pace. Peter was so happy, over the universe as pure warmth filled him up from head to toe. The mere thought that you felt the same, it was too good to be true. But it was, he can see it clear in your eyes, it was real.

You love him.

But then his mood was quick to shift, smile slipping off his face, the warmth and joy that coated his bones replaced by fear and worry in a snap of a finger.

Peter's heart stopped at the sight in front of him.

You were getting held at knifepoint by the throat, tears brimming in your eyes, more of it coating your cheeks as you clawed at the arm that trapped you in their vise hold.

"P-Peter, I love you," you whimpered, gaze locking with his, hope slipping out of your orbs, the glow they once held getting dimmer by the second in a way that made a shiver run down his spine. Then Peter heard it, that piercing cackle he knew too well, his brown eyes meeting the yellow ones that glowed right behind you.

"You won't be able to save the love of your life, Spider-Man...or should I say, Peter Parker!"

Peter shook his head frantically as he yelled out your name, running at full speed to get to you only to be met by sudden darkness, your heart wrenching scream ringing in his ears followed by an agonizing sound of a body hitting the floor. Peter's blood ran cold as he frantically called out your name, over and over and over yet nothing but eerie silence echoed back at him.

And then he looked down, eyes landing on his trembling hands, each finger, both palms coated with blood, your blood.

You were gone.

"No, no, no," Peter rushed, voice quivering, hastily getting up on his feet as he looked at you worryingly. "You can't, Y/N. You can't love me."

It's not safe for you to love me.

The look of pure pain that ghosted over you features squeezed at Peter's heart, the pit in his stomach ever growing the more he thought of what he was about to do.

You stood up shakily to be level with him, deep frown on your lips, confusion and hurt swimming in your eyes as you asked, "Why'd you seem disgusted? You could just say you don't feel the same way."

"N-No, it's not that, neither of that because—" he sucked in a sharp breath, a hand running through his hair as he stared into your eyes longingly. "I do feel the same way about you."

You screwed your eyes shut as you shook your head. "Please don't lie to make me feel better, Peter," you pleaded, the break in your voice a sharp stab at his chest.

"When have I ever lied to you?" Peter internally winced at his bold and very false claim. Nothing but guilt filled his stomach given that he lies to you almost every day. He lies to you about his whereabouts, lies to you about his reasons. Peter lies to you every goddamn day by not telling you he's Spider-Man.

"Then why are your actions speaking something else then?" You gestured towards him as a whole, at the obvious distance that he's put between you two. Your eyes were slowly glossing up as you tried to simply understand what was going on.

Peter sighed, "I just don't want to hurt you okay? I—I don't want you to lose faith on the things you love because of me."

I don't want you to lose your life because of me.

"You're not making any sense," you said frustratedly.

"I'm not qualified to be a good boyfriend, Y/N. I won't be there with you all the time. I'd probably cancel on you on so many dates," Peter paused, meeting your eyes so you could see where he was coming from. "Hell, how many times have I bailed on you right now as your best friend huh? The amount of times I've left you on the street to go home alone?"

Your frown deepened as you held his eyes with nothing but sadness. "You had things going on Peter. You're being really unfair on yourself," you said.

"But you still don't deserve to be treated like that. Not now, not ever, no matter the reason," he pushed. "You deserve all those romantic clichés you're always dreaming of, you deserve to be treated like the queen that you are. You deserve the whole world Y/N, but I won't be able to give you that." Peter's voice broke, eyes holding too many emotions as he kept his gaze steady with yours. A painful task with all the pain and betrayal that's coated your eyes, utmost hurt glaring right at him. "Being with me won't be a fairytale."

Peter wasn't ignorant to the fact that you were a hopeless romantic. The countless rom-coms you've watched together have long ago proved that. The specific look in your eyes, that certain glimmer that washes over your face whenever the couple would kiss under the snow or even in the rain, or whenever they'd go on romantic walks on the beach or simply be in each other's arm whenever it's needed, Peter has memorized it. The little changes in your face whenever you see those clichés, he knows it like the back of his hand, knows how you're craving that kind of simple but true love.

But Peter can't give you any of that. Not right now.

"But I don't want a fairytale. I want to be with you. I don't care if we don't get to do any romantic clichés, being with you would surpass all of that, being with you would be more than enough. And I'm willing to try and make it work with whatever you've got going on, even if I have to make sacrifices in the process. Why can't you see that Peter?" you argued, hands clenched into fists on your sides in mere frustration.

Peter winced, the word sacrifice too heavy for him to hear. It was too painful to even fathom what you would possibly sacrifice for him, that you would probably even sacrifice all of it for him, including your life.

"No, no, please don't," he begged. "I don't want you to sacrifice anything for me. I would never want you to sacrifice those little things that make you smile. I don't want you to sacrifice your happiness for me." Peter shook his head in utter distress, palm rubbing at his face harshly that had the tip of his nose turn red. "And what happens then if it doesn't work? You'll only get disappointed. You'll only end up hating me. By then, I would have already put you through so much hurt all for nothing. I don't want that for you, Y/N."

"How'd you know that when you haven't even tried?" you whispered, bottom lip trembling. "It's like you're not even willing to try," you whimpered.

The second Peter saw the single tear that ran down your cheek he instinctively moved closer, hands reaching out, desperate to hold you, to get to tell you it's going to be alright, to apologize over and over for all the pain he has caused. But you stopped him with the palm of your hand. He felt his heart drop the moment you took a step back, shaking your head, bottom lip desperately caught between your teeth to silence your sobs.

Peter nodded gravely, his arms falling limp by his sides, fully understanding that you don't want him near. He doesn't blame you by one bit. "It's not that I'm not willing to, I just," he paused as he let out a shaky breath. "I don't trust myself to be with you. I don't trust myself with your heart because I know I will only end up breaking it. I'll only let you down." I don't trust myself to keep you safe from harm. I'll only fail you just like how I failed them. Peter confessed, brown orbs turning glossy, all from a mixture of pain and anger. He was so angry at himself for putting you through all this hurt, you don't deserve it, not even a single ounce of it.

Yes, he can try, see where this will go and do his best to be there for you at all times. But that's not set on stone, never a clear promise because he doesn't know what his tomorrow is going to bring. He doesn't know if he's staying in the neighborhood one minute and then entering another dimension the next. Being Spider-Man, he doesn't have a schedule where Peter can organize things as a matter of priority, being Spider-Man requires its own sets of sacrifices. Peter doesn't want you to feel the burden of those sacrifices, too.

He doesn't doubt that you would be understanding enough with whatever it is he has going on but that's exactly the problem. He knows you'll take the bare minimum, you'll put him first above your wants and needs. You're just too kind that way, too big of a heart. But Peter can't have that because it's just not right; it's not what you should settle for. You deserve all the dates, all the romantic walks, all the cuddles and kisses whenever you're down, all the stress free nights where you don't have to worry about him or wait for him to come back to you safe and unharmed, all the time and effort, you deserve all of it and more.

And right now, Peter can't give you what you deserve.

"Or maybe you just don't love me in the way you say you do," you accused, voice soft but the sting in it sharp.

"That's not fucking true because I love you with every ounce of my being," he protested in low growl, desperately tugging at his hair, frustrated that he can't tell you his full reasons as to why exactly he can't be with you. "I love you too much and I want to be with you so badly—"

"Then why is that not enough?" you stressed.

"You don't understand—"

"Then make me understand!" you snapped, tears running freely down your face as you looked at him with utmost despair.

"It's not that fucking simple Y/N!" Peter saw you flinch at the sudden boom of his voice, his heart cracking at the sight. He felt everything in him gradually break the more you stared at him with nothing but anguish. He took in a deep breath to calm himself before he slips out any words that he'll only regret later on. Blowing out his cheeks, he croaked, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just—"

Peter tried again and walked closer to you, trembling hands slowly reaching in mere need to feel your skin on his to ground him back, relief washing over him when you let him. He felt his heart warm up a little when you didn't pull away from his touch. But the broken sob you let out when he cupped your face, it was too excruciating for him to hear. The agonizing grip on Peter's heart tightened as he stared right into your eyes, the same ones that once held so much joy but was now flooded with tears and grief, their gorgeous glow snuffed out, all because of him.

"I'm just trying to protect you, please, trust me on that," he whispered, not even trying to hide the brokenness in his voice anymore, not even trying to hold back his tears as Peter pressed his forehead against yours.

The little droplets fell down on your face, his tears joining yours on your already damp skin. His thumb oh so tenderly tried to wipe them all away, wishing that it was as easy as that to ease up your pain, to take away your hurt so simply, but he knows it wasn't. It wasn't an easy choice and Peter knows it never will be.

"I love you so much, don't you ever, ever doubt that. B-But we can't. I'm really sorry Y/N, but we can't be together. I-I know this hurts right now, trust me, I know, but I will only make it much worse," he choked, shaking his head when you leaned into his palm with a broken breath. But you kept your eyes open, held his gaze with utter strength and Peter saw it, saw how you still looked at him with love in your eyes. Despite it being mixed with pain, it was there, clear and honest. God he did not fucking deserve you at all.

"You deserve someone who'd treat you the way you deserve to be treated, someone who'd truly show you how it feels to be loved completely and not just the bare minimum. You deserve someone who'd be so much better than me." Peter's voice broke at the end of his sentence, eyes still holding yours just so you could see the other things he can't put into words, the things he couldn't say aloud. He was desperately, silently pleading that you would see right through him, so you could understand why he has to do this. "Maybe in another life, we could make this work. But right now I'm asking, begging you not to love me, because I don't deserve that love, I don't deserve you at all."

Peter practically saw your heart shatter into pieces even more with the simple look in your eyes. It's an absolute torture to look into them right now, to see you be so broken that he found himself wishing that it was only him in pain instead. Even though the thought hurts, he wished you didn't love him. Even though it would be painful to endure, to live in a world where his feelings aren't reciprocated, Peter wished you didn't love him at all if it meant it was going to save you from heartbreak.

Better him in pain than you, always.

Breath unsteady, you closed your eyes with a small nod. "I guess this is it," you sniffled, placing your hands over his, your touch tender as you gave it a squeeze. But then you pulled it away from your face, Peter's hands slipping off your skin as you put some much needed distance between you two.

"Y/N—"

"I don't think we can go back to the way things were after this Peter. I'm sorry I just—I don't think I can handle it." You shook your head with a soft cry, forcing yourself to look back into those brown orbs as you whispered, "I can’t take it."

Peter pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes casted on the grass with a solemn nod as he croaked out, "Then I guess this is it."

"Goodbye, Peter."

He screwed his eyes shut at the sound of your broken voice, the heartbreaking sob that followed soon after made him let out a shaky breath. The sound of your footsteps felt like gunshots, each step taken like a bullet wounding him deep but Peter didn't dare to respond, didn't even dare to look up as you briskly walked away.

Peter had to keep his head down because he didn't have enough strength, didn't have the sense of control to stay still in his place. He knows that if he does as much as look up and catch your figure, he'll run after you, full speed. He'll pull you back into his arms; he'll pour all his love into one kiss as he holds you tightly. He'll keep you in his embrace for eternity the moment he gives in into his selfish needs. But he shouldn't. He needs to let you go, he has to let you walk away, for your sake.

The farther the sound of your footsteps got, the tighter his fists grew, fingernails digging into his palms as his breathing became labored, harsh. Peter swiftly turned around and took a hard swing at the tree once you were gone, glad that no one was around to see the whole thing shake from his strength. The bark cracked under his knuckle, leaves falling around him just as his knees gave out. A sharp, broken, frustrated scream escaped his lips as he buried his face in his hands, body shaking with all the anger and pain, trembling from his heart wrenching sobs.

Peter felt like his lungs were about to give out, emotions overflowing and scorching all while feeling numb just the same. But he kept reminding himself why he's doing this for him to get by, kept telling himself that being far apart was for the best.

For your sake.

***

The wind was cold on your face as you stood out on the rooftop to escape. The night breeze was slowly drying up your tears, much to no use since it's replaced by fresh ones the second after anyway. You don't know how long you've been crying for, but it wouldn't really matter. Your tears could run out but the pain in your heart could only deepen with each ticking second.

You were worried, angry, hurt, frustrated and confused all the same, unable to tie everything together as it all just seemed like a whole jumbled mess in your head, an incomplete puzzle.

You're not naïve to think that there wasn't more to this than he's letting on. You know he was hiding bits and pieces, his words completely restrained. You saw it in his eyes how he was battling his mind. You saw how he was struggling to not slip out whatever it was he was holding back. It was painful, all of it, from seeing him so distressed to him breaking your heart with his care-filled yet hurtful words.

You get where he's coming from, about wanting you to experience it all and more and not just the bare minimum. If it was a different circumstance, the things he said would've been sweet, how he wants you to have the world, how he wants you to live all those clichés just so he could see you smile, see you be happy. But right now, his words just felt bittersweet since you lost him in the process.

All those days of imagining all the different scenarios on what it would look like, how it would feel when he admits he feels the same way, not once did you ever expect that Peter Parker saying he loves you would feel like a knife to the heart.

What hurts even more is the fact that he is so keen on shutting any chance, and sliver of hope down. He won't even try, like you're not worth any risks at all. It makes you question how important you actually are to him, makes you question if he really does love you in the way he claims he does.

"Ahem."

"Shit!" you squeaked, head snapping towards the squatted figure, eyes landing on the familiar masked man who seemed to like the element of surprise. "You need to stop doing that!"

"Sorry, should've given you a heads up," he apologized, voice sounding a little hoarse, a little...different.

"No shit," you grumbled, hastily wiping away your tears with the sleeves of your sweater before you turned back to face him. "What's brought you here?"

"Was just in the neighborhood, saw you out here and I thought I'd swing by," he said with a casual shrug, gaze steady on the building across. You did just the same as you turned back in front, fingers drumming on the concrete ledge as you stood in silence for a couple minutes, his company soothing in some odd way. But you welcome it, makes you feel more present, stopping you from slipping neck deep into the chaos that's in your head.

"You okay? You seem a bit down," he said, voice still a little gruff, eyes everywhere else but at you.

"Well, I guess you can say that," you breathed out.

"Want to talk about it?"

You bit your bottom lip when it started to tremble, a fresh batch of tears brimming in your eyes. "I told him," you whispered. "You know that friend I talked to you about? I told him I'm in love with him and he wasn't too happy with it. He pushed me away, I—" You shook your head with a shaky breath, eyes now trained on the busy street below. You swallowed the lump in your throat before adding, "He said he loved me but he pushed me away."

The superhero beside you cleared out his throat, shifting in his place until he was fully seated down, his legs hanging off the side of the building. "Did he tell you why?"

"He said he wouldn't be a good boyfriend and that he won't be there for me when I need him. He said I deserved better, which doesn't make any sense because he's already been doing that, being there for me. And I have no doubt he'd treat me rightly but he doesn't seem to believe that himself," you whimpered, harshly wiping away the tears that rushed out your eyes, not wanting to seem pathetic for a boy, not to seem weak in front of the masked hero.

"Hey, you don't have to act all tough for me," he reassured, hand coming up to give your shoulder a comforting squeeze for a short but sweet moment. "It's okay to cry, it doesn't mean you're weak."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding, flashing him a sad smile for a second before you stared back at the city. "And I get he's got a lot going on, I do too but what's painful is that he's not even willing to try and see if it would work or not. It hurts to think that I'm willing to try and make ends meet, that I would do anything to be with him, but he won't do the same for me. It makes me feel like I'm not worth fighting for, that I'm not enough."

"That's not true, Y/N," he whispered, almost as if didn't want you to hear it, your brows furrowing a little as you spared him a glance. He was already looking at you but the second your eyes landed on his face, he swiftly looked away. "What else did he say?" he asked swiftly, voice louder with a clear of his throat.

"He said he can't be with me because he didn't want to hurt me which sounds so fucking stupid since he's hurting me now. Really badly," you whimpered, bottom lip quivering as you screwed your eyes shut, taking in deep calming breaths, steadying yourself before you opened them again.

"Maybe he is just trying to look out for you," he started, head tilted to the side as he looked at you with a shaky breath. "Sometimes the best way to protect someone is to keep them at a safe distance, to not get too close to them, both physically but mostly emotionally."

You frowned, gaze landing back on the white fabric that's covered his eyes. "You do that too? Push people away?"

"I don't want to but I have to," he sighed, looking down at his hands like they were too heavy, like they hold so much weight over his life, caused him so much trouble and pain. He stared at them for a few seconds more before his fingers started to pick at his web shooters. "It's the best way to keep the people I care about safe."

"Because of all the bad guys chasing after you?"

He let out a soft chuckle as he nodded. "Yeah, you could say that."

You turned to face him fully, deep frown still etched on your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest. "Does that not get lonely?"

"It does." He nodded dejectedly, his eyes still looking elsewhere. "But it's better than seeing the ones I love get hurt because of the sole reason that they love me and that I love them just as much, if not more. Once they find out who I am, they're going to use that against me. They will always use that against me." The pain and hurt that coated his voice in his last sentence, you heard it loud and clear, makes you wonder what hardships he could've gone through to feel this way. "I think it's best to keep them away from this side of my world. I admit, it's really hard for me to stay away but I just keep reminding myself that all I'm doing is trying to keep them safe as much as I can," he paused, turning his head to finally look at you and you felt your heart stop at his next set of words.

"I'm just trying to protect them."

You felt as though that the clouds cleared up above your head, the puzzle pieces falling into place, completing itself as you slowly and finally tied everything together.

All those times he's suddenly in a rush to leave with a half-assed reason, the times where you'd catch a glimpse of the random cuts and bruises he had on his body, it all became so clear. And the night you first met Spider-Man, that odd feeling you had when he squeezed your hand the first time, it finally made sense. That same night, you felt as though you were crazy when you found yourself gravitating towards a complete stranger, a masked superhero at that. You found it ridiculous how you felt like you could trust him right off the bat. When you felt a vast feeling of being safe around him in so little time, initially you told yourself that it wasn't a good thing, that it was dangerous and you should tread carefully, but now the feeling just felt awfully familiar.

That's when you fully understood everything. The knots in your head gradually untangled itself as you gawked at him, mouth slightly agape in pure shock, tears welling up in your eyes for a different reason this time. All the things he's been through, all the pain and grief from the people he's lost, the weight that the world has put on his shoulders, it made your heartbreak. It made you feel so guilty that you weren't there for him through all that.

A new found weight settled itself in your chest because as you stared right at the mask, you saw him.

"Well, I need to go. You know, got a city to look after," he chuckled shyly as he looked away, his voice sounding starkly different from the previous encounters as it now held a sense of familiarity. "See you later."

With that, he jumped off, your eyes following the red in blue under the night sky, gradually getting smaller until disappearing from sight.

You smiled, a small one, didn't quite reach your ears but it was genuine. Your heart was still aching, mostly for him than for you, but it was also now filled with the greatest pride as you whispered, just under your breath,

"See you later, Peter Parker."

-:-:-:-:-

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