#two sure 4 today mid week

[matan4il]

In today's edition of "The UN is complicit," we now have proof that this "respectable" organization has been sweeping under the rug a crucial report on the situation in Gaza.

On Jun 5 this year, headlines based on false statements from the UN released on that day were still being published, claiming that by mid Jul over 1 million people (about half the Gazan population) could be facing the highest level of starvation if the war continues. This was when we've been going through 8 months of war, in which the UN constantly made claims of imminent genocidal starvation, now, right now, truly, any moment now, if the war doesn't stop.

Except, it turns out that on Jun 4 already (a day earlier than the UN's starvation claims were being made and published), the IPC (an organization made up of several NGOs and UN bodies) has had to admit that there is no reliable evidence of starvation in Gaza, or that its existence is even plausible. This is particularly significant because it was actually the IPC's own Mar 2024 report that many of the claims regarding starvation relied on!

(please read the linked article if you can, it also links to researchers like Mark Zlochkin, quoting the findings of the Famine Review Committee, which are compelling in showing that there is no starvation in Gaza)

This means the UN has known for two weeks at this point (in an official capacity) that there is no starvation, but proceeded to ignore and even contradict its own people on this.

It means Israel has been slandered by false accusations of causing intentional starvation when there is no evidence that there even is one for EIGHT AND A HALF MONTHS, it means that the "clearest piece of evidence" of the supposed genocide in Gaza has never been substantiated, it means every Israel supporter accused of being pro-genocide has been deeply wronged, it means every antisemitic abuse of a Jewish person attacked over the situation in Gaza has been based on an antisemitic libel, it means countless anti-Jewish crimes have been justified using a lie that the UN has been actively enabling for two weeks (if we only count the time they've known about this on an official level, but since the UN has 13,000 employees on the ground in Gaza, it surely knew even before the Jun 4 report)...

And I find it particularly gruesome that I found out about the IPC report on the same day I learnt a 12 years old Jewish girl in France was gang raped as an antisemitic hate crime. This is the second time a Jewish female has been raped in France due to antisemitic motivation in recent months, when during the first rape (that we know of) the rapist was clear about his anti-Israel motivation. And we all know where the inspiration came from, to rape women just because they're Jewish, and knowing they will be victims who will not be listened to, or worse, whose rape will be justified as "resistance"...

IDK how anyone can have a conscience and not be bothered by this. All of it.

The UN is complicit.

The international NGOs are complicit.

The news sources that have not published the report are complicit.

The people who didn't believe rape reports from Oct 7 just because they came from Jews are complicit.

They all prove that Jews are NOT protected, or even just treated with basic human decency, as we should be.

My heart breaks for this girl. I wish I could do something for her, but there is nothing, except to scream here over this abhorrent injustice, and to beg people to raise their voice. Our sister's blood is calling out to us from the ground, and we CANNOT be silent.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[wileys-russo]

Mary Earps, "will you marry me"..."we're already married", nightclub/party/some sort of night out

marry me II m.earps

you weren't able to go to the game because of work but you'd heard how well mary played, score checking as often as you could when your boss wasn't looking though you knew he really wouldn't mind all that much being a united supporter himself.

finally on your afternoon break you'd had a chance to call her, getting the full recap on everything including what sounded like a rocket of a goal from both maya and ella, united going up 4-0 in one of their best games of the season.

it killed you to have to cut your wife off mid story but with only a couple minutes left mary was more than understanding as you promised to meet her with the team once you finished, not thinking you'd make it in time for dinner but they had plans to go out afterwards to a karaoke bar.

"-and i promise not to sing a single abba song until you arrive beautiful!" mary promised and you could hear the grin in her voice as you softened, the two of you having met when a rather tipsy mary had mistaken you for a friend and tried to sweep you off your feet to have a dance to voulez vouz years ago.

now it was your unspoken song, always making sure to get it requested whenever you went out with friends, the two of you in your own little bubble as you'd giggle and swing one another around like the lovesick idiots you really were.

telling her you loved her and again how proud you were of yet another clean sheet under her belt you ended the call and hurried back to your desk where a large number of emails awaited you.

you were somewhat grateful for how busy your afternoon was given that it made the rest of your shift fly past, your timer going to clock out jolting you from your chair almost as you saved the doc you were working on and shut down your monitor.

collecting your things you said your goodbyes to your coworkers and headed out, wishing you'd bought a second jacket as you speed walked from the office to the tube, settling a little once you were inside and headed home.

it was the same story as you power walked from the station to the bus, and then from the bus stop to your flat you shared with your girlfriend. your new years resolution this year had been to use public transport to get to work at least twice a week.

given the business you worked for operated seven days a week and you only worked five including like today the occasional weekend it was going quite well so far, even if also like today it was that little bit harder with the weather.

by the time you let yourself inside it was nearing half past seven, and still needing a shower and some food you sent your wife a message indicating as much with a promise to keep her updated on your eta.

you melted at her reply text, following her instructions and going to the fridge where indeed she'd already cooked you dinner earlier this morning, the food just needing to be heated up.

not wanting to chance spilling food on anything you ate before you showered, putting on the highlights of the match and watching on proudly with a smile, cheering as though you didn't already know the outcome.

finishing up you rinsed and stacked your bowl and the tupperware in the dishwasher which was nearly full, tossing a tablet in and clicking it on as you thanked your wife for the meal and ducked into the shower.

by the time you showered and changed, finally looking presentable, it was nearing nine and mary had already informed around twenty minutes ago they were headed to the bar from the restaurant and she'd see you there.

ordering an uber you slipped on your shoes and grabbed a jacket, greeting the driver but otherwise remaining quiet, grateful that he picked up on that and just turned the radio on as you messaged mary you'd arrived.

thanking the uber you stepped out and joined the small line to enter the bar, grateful for the jacket around your shoulders as a sharp breeze whipped through the night air.

you frowned a little when mary hadn't texted back, but assuming she just hadn't heard her phone you'd barely stepped foot into the bar before a couple of bodies tumbled into you.

"ya made it!" you laughed as millie lifted you into the air in a tight hug and ella hugged your other side, the two having spotted you enter from the bar as they hustled you back over with them to grab a drink.

you greeted a few more of the girls and their partners as you waited, looking around for your wife but unable to spot her. "you might want to prepare yourself babe." maya warned patting your shoulder and handing you your drink as you gave her a curious look.

"dumb and dumber here have been feeding mary shots so she's...a little bit tipsy." maya smiled apologetically as you chuckled, knowing from her tone that was clearly an understatement as you followed her back to the booths where most of the team was hanging around.

"hello beautiful!" you heard her before you saw her, the taller girl crashing into you as maya hurried to grab your drink from your hand or else you'd have wound up wearing it as your wife practically tackled you down onto the lounge.

"mary! watch out ya idiot." katie laughed with a shake of her head. "hi baby, having fun?" you smiled, taking your drink back off maya and settling it down on the table as mary sat up and nodded, arm draped securely over your shoulders.

"so much fun!" she giggled and you grinned at the bright red flush across her cheeks you knew only appeared when she'd had far too much to drink. "mm i can see that, whats this i hear about shots?" you teased sipping at your own drink.

"mary!" you groaned as you barely had a mouthful before the goalkeeper had taken it from your hand and downed it, her only response being to grab your face and smash her lips to yours causing your neck to warm and wolf whistles to ring out around you.

"okay okay! down girl." you laughed pushing at her chest as she again chased your lips with a grin. "no i missed ya, c'mere." she tugged at your dress as you shook your head. "you owe me a drink earps." you warned booping her nose with a grin.

"mary watch out!" you laughed again as she practically leapt over you and made a beeline for the bar, dragging millie along with her. "no more shots for her turner i mean it!" you yelled after them as millie only winked and you sighed.

turns out, there was more shots.

a couple of hours had passed since you'd arrived and having sung three times now both with your wife or friends you were ready to call it a night, mary barely able to hold her head up.

"i'm gonna get us an uber. can you help me get her up?" you chuckled to leah and millie, millie who had sobered up scarily fast considering you'd watched her do shot after shot with your wife who was near passed out on your shoulder.

"maz, baby. come on up we get, we're gonna head home!" you shook her lightly as her eyes fluttered open and she mumbled something incomprehensible and slumped back down. nodding to millie and leah once the uber was booked the girls helped mary up who thankfully could mostly walk herself once she was.

"for earps? thank you." you checked with the uber, leah shoving mary in the back as you sat down beside her and buckled her in, thanking both girls and waving them off as they made their way back inside.

"are we on the tube?" mary lifted her head squinting her eyes with a slur making you chuckle. "no you muppet, we're in an uber." you rubbed her knee as she hummed and collapsed into you with a grunt.

thankfully the bar wasn't too far from your flat as the uber pulled up outside and you gently pushed mary to sit up, exiting the car and quickly making your way to her door.

opening it you grunted as the girl near fell out, the sudden drop at least waking her up enough to allow you to pull her out of the car, closing the door and stumbling your way up the driveway.

"come on babe, work with me here!" you groaned as she leaned her much taller body into you with a moan and a mumble of something that wasn't english, your fingers freezing and struggling with the key in the door as you finally popped it open.

"down we go!" you dropped your wife onto the sofa as she giggled and blinked a few times, sighing as you hurried to the bedroom to change.

grabbing clothes for mary you joined her again in the living room rolling your eyes as she was now properly passed out, mouth hanging open and all.

"maz, maz baby." you crouched down beside her and poked at her as she groaned and swatted you away. "come on, we need to get you changed you idiot!" you laughed, shaking her a bit harder now as she awoke and you helped her groggily sit up.

"oh hello darling." mary slurred, grabbing your hands and tugging you down to sit on her lap. "when did you get here? i missed ya." she mumbled making you laugh and shake your head, well prepared to tease her relentlessly for this tomorrow.

you helped her get dressed, ignoring the comments about buying her dinner first and her little teenage giggles as with absolutely no assistance from your wife you managed to get her changed.

"you're so so beautiful." mary smiled lazily pulling you down onto her lap again making you sigh but crack a smile. "will you marry me? i think you should marry me." the goalkeeper grinned with hooded eyes making you laugh.

"we're already married my love." you grabbed her hand and held up your own, the taller girl squinting at the rings which sat on them. "oh lovely! tick that off the list then." she ticked mid air as you rolled your eyes.

"come on you big dope, time to go to bed with your wife."

[stvolanis]

BIRTHDAY BOY

(one shot)

PAIRINGS: Elvis Presley x wife! Reader

WARNINGS: tooth rotting fluff! Not proofread, clingy reader, no use of y/n, slight angst (Elvis thinks reader forgot his birthday), surprise party, kissing, pet names, the Memphis mafia been goofballs

NSFW WARNINGS: p in v sex, oral (m receiving), slight ball play ig?, light choking, hair pulling, daddy kink (duhh), cream pie, breeding kink, lingerie

sorry if I missed anything!! And happy birthday to the king of rock n’ roll<3

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

The entire day you and Elvis’ Memphis mafia have been planning is birthday party. His dad even started helping out.

It was going to be spectacular. You’d ordered a large 5 layered cake with buttercream frosting and strawberries, and written on top in cursive was ‘long live the king’ with a little 25 under it.

The house was decorated in head to toe with gold and white streamers, balloons, confetti, and any other kind of decor you could imagine fit for the king of rock n’ roll.

Elvis Presley had been gone for a week, taking on an acting gig in Florida, Miami. You missed him dearly, but you knew he was coming home today. Every time he called one of the house phones who would always chat your ear off on how much he wanted to see you. You’d think he had separation anxiety (he does).

The warmth of his voice on the line brought endless smiles to your face, and his amazing voice made giggles erupt from your throat. Everything about him shined, inside and out. He was beautiful, and a very charismatic man.

He had a certain feel about him. In a way where everyone would stop what they were doing just to catch a glimpse of him. He could hold an entire rooms attention and keep it, and sometimes he didn’t even realize it. People looked at him as if he were a god, and hell, maybe he was.

Elvis was a giving man. If you knew him, then you’d know that he shined so bright, he made the people around him shine, too. And to Elvis, you shined the most. He adored you. Every little thing about you was imperfectly perfect to him in just the right ways.

Elvis was a good husband, despite what people in the press have said. He takes care of you more than he takes care of himself, and he does it with a smile on his face and love in his heart that he only holds for you.

Elvis always told you that you were his angel. You were sent by the heavens to watch over him, guide him and love him for all he is after his mother died. You healed him and changed a broken, distraught man into the brightest star.

But you knew it was the other way around.

You found each other in a hopeless state, but together you overcame it and helped each other. Elvis was always kind to you, even if you two had petty little arguments, he’d always make it up to you by showering you in kisses with little ‘I’m sorrys’. How could you not forgive him when he was the sweetest man you’d ever met?

He remembered every anniversary. Every birthday. Every Valentine’s Day. He showered you in gifts, attention, dates, and never shut up about you in the press. You were sure interviews were sick and tired of him ranting on about how ‘good of a wife’ you are like a lovesick puppy, but it filled you with butterflies knowing he held you in such high regards.

Elvis was your person, and you were his. You’d known that since the day you met, and the day he popped the big question on a Thursday night in Hawaii confirmed it. It’s been bliss since you’d known him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

But now, you sat nervously on the couch, biting down on your manicured nails nervously.

You hadn’t answered any of the 4 times Elvis has called you, and you knew he’d be worried by now. It was his birthday, and you felt bad because you didn’t want to upset him—but the surprise will be all worth it.

You wore his favorite outfit. A light blue, low cut dress that ended mid thigh, paired with black marry janes and white socks that sat a few inches below your knees. You also wore a white pearl necklace that acted as a light choker, and to top it all off, a silver chain sat secured gracefully on your neck that read ‘E.P’. A beautiful necklace your lover gifted to you for your 2nd anniversary.

But you wore a secret under your pretty little dress that Elvis would surely adore later tonight.

“Everyone, I just got word that Elvis is down the road, get in your places!” Gunner, a mutual friend of you and Elvis, shouted. You quickly took your place around the corner from the door, so you could be the first person he sees when he walks through the large entrance.

The lights were turned off and the room was silent as you heard booming footsteps come up the familiar stairs of Gracelands’ entrance.

You sucked in a breath of air as the door swung open, and you could already feel his suffocating presence in the house.

“Baby?! Where ya at?!” He yelled out, his voice laced with concern as he began to move towards the stairs, assuming you were in your shared bedroom. You giggled a little, and Elvis’ head snapped to your direction. You’d been caught.

“Surprise! Happy birthday, honey!” You yelled out, along with everyone else. Elvis let out a breath of air he’d been holding in for what felt like all day. No matter how many times he’s left home, weeks on end, you’d never gone not one day without calling him and tellin’ him all about your boring day without him around.

He drug a hand down his face with a groan, followed by a deep chuckle as your body collided with his in a tight hug. He kissed the top of your head, and finally, you’d felt his arms around you again. And it’s was as if all of his love visibly seeped into you.

“Was so worried, satin. Thought somethin’ bad happened to ya.” He huffed out with furrowed brows. You laughed as you cupped his face in your dainty hands. “Nothin’ bad happened, Elvis. Just wanted to give you a lil surprise is all.” You muttered as you brought his face down to your level, giving him the tenderest of kisses.

You tasted like vanilla on his tongue, mixed with cherry from the cherry lollipop you always had in your mouth. Elvis wasn’t sure how you hadn’t gotten a cavity from it yet. Your hair smelled like fresh rose water, and he knew it was from your annual bath-soakings full of the best rose petals money can buy and scented bath bombs.

You were warm against him, your small body molding and fitting perfectly against him. He loved you. God, did he love you. His baby. His love. His wife. The woman he plans to bear his children. He couldn’t get enough of you

“I got you a cake, Elvis.” You smiled up at him. You were the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Your smile was contagious to him, as he felt a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, lemme see it, baby.” He said.

You clapped your hands together, exited to see his reaction of the large cake, decorated to perfection. You took his large hand in yours and dragged him to where everyone else was in the dining room. On the table sat the cake, and Elvis felt his eyes widen at the mere heigh of it.

“Woah, that’s a lot of sugar, honey.” He chuckled out as he walked closer to take a good look. “Look at the top, El.” You urged. Like a good husband, he obliged and a chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“I love it, baby.” He said as he walked over and tightly hugged you, slightly lifting you off the ground in the process. “I’m glad! I hoped you would.” You said happily.

He didn’t have a chance to respond before the Memphis mafia swept him away from you. “Sharing is caring!” They yelled with loud boyish chuckles as they went to the pool room. Elvis mounted an ‘im sorry’, to which you merely giggled.

All throughout the night Elvis was occupied with his family and friends celebrating. You knew you shouldn’t, but you had to admit that you felt kind of neglected. In more ways than one.

He’d looked so unbelievably handsome all night, and you couldn’t help but become all hot and bothered as the night continued. You watched him play pool with his friends, his arms were exposed and fit. Elvis was no muscle maniac, but he had just the right amount for your mouth to start watering like a bitch in heat at the sight.

You finally built up enough courage to speak up about it as you walked over to where he stood in all his glory. His back was now facing you as you lightly gripped his arm to grab his attention, making him spin around to look at you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, his accent thick. You grew shy as his friends grazed in on the interaction, being nosy. You chewed on the bottom of your lip, and Elvis understood as he slightly leaned down is you could whisper into his ear. “M horny, Elvis.” You muttered, barely just loud enough for him to hear.

Elvis lightly hummed. “S that right?” He asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “Alright, don’t worry, sugar, I’ll take care of ya.” He stated.

“I’m done for the night, fellas.” He said as he tangled his fingers with yours, pulling you away from the group of men. They whistled knowingly, followed by a few hollers, making your cheeks flush red and bury yourself in Elvis’ side. He chuckled as his arm wrapped around you, walking up the stairs to your shared room.

He opened the door for you and flicked the lamp light on. “I got another surprise for you.” You muttered, shy under his gaze. He peered down at you. “Yeah? What is it, baby?” He asked, his breathing heavy.

You began to slide your dress off of your shoulders, below your breasts and down your hips before letting it fall to the floor beneath you. Elvis’ mouth watered at the sight and he felt his pants tighten uncomfortably, his slacks suddenly becoming too tight in his crotch area.

There you stood, in a baby pink lingerie set. Floral and lacy, nipples and pussy barely covered by flimsy fabric. Your thighs covered in garters with little pink flowers embroidered onto them delicately. What made Elvis go over the edge though, is when you turned around to show him your perky ass.

In cursive, sat nice and pretty was ‘Elvis Presley’.

He felt like he could cum in his pants right then and there.

“D-do you like it?” You asked, nervous at his silence. He scoffed. “Like it? Baby, i fuckin’ love it.” He said, spinning your around to face him before sliding his hands past your waist, down to your ass, tightly squeezing both of your ass cheeks.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. “Yeah?” You whispered as his leaned down. “Fuck yes.” He muttered before his lips crashed down onto yours in a heated kiss.

It was sloppy as your tongues tangled with each other, you fighting for some kind of dominance that you knew Elvis wouldn’t allow. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him groan, biting your lip in retaliation. His hands squeezing the fat of your ass tighter, gripping you impossibly closer to him.

“Let me make you feel good, Elvis.” You breathed out against his lips. He merely clicked his tongue. “Hm?” He asked again. Your legs rubbed together, slick coating both of your inner thighs.

“Please let me make you feel good, daddy.” You repeated, more desperately this time. He groaned in satisfaction. “Good girl, go ahead, baby.” He urged.

You dropped to your knees and watched as he unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to the floor. You licked your lips at the sight of his leaking cock, standing hard and ready for you in any way you can take him. He was long and girthy, balls hung, seemingly painfully full. Your core ached to relieve him.

You licked around his tip before licking his slit that leaked slaty pre-cum, and his hiss was enough for you to suck his tip into your mouth. “Fuck!” He yelped out as you sucked harshly, before taking him deeper into your mouth.

You bobbed your head up and down, your hands reaching to fondle his aching balls. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was giving mind blowing, other worldly head. Your little mouth drove Elvis beyond crazy, wether it be for talking shit or having his cock in it.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you effortlessly deep throated his cock, and you felt him throb in your mouth. You gagged around him, making him throw his head back and let out a desperate moan.

“Yess, fuck! Just like that, honey. Suckin’ your husbands cock so well. Takin’ such good care of me.” He breathed out. You knew he was about to cum as his fingers found their way in your large hair, gripping tightly. “M gonna cum, baby. Shit.” He moaned out.

Your mouth moved to suck one of his balls into your mouth and your hand moved quickly to stroke his needy cock. Your hand moved fast, your fist tight around him. It was all too much, the way your mouth sucked his balls in like a vacuum and your hand stroking his hand at a quickening pace.

His cum spurted from his cock, and your mouth shot up just in time to get it in your mouth. You sucked his tip, milking him of all the cum he had stored away in his heavy balls. “Holy fuck, you’re so fuckin’ good, soso good f’me.” He said, mouth hung agape as you released his tip with a loud ‘pop’.

You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show him the cum that rested on your tongue. He licked his lips and felt his cock harden again. “Swallow.” He said. And like the good little wife you are, you listened..

“Good girl. Now, getcha’ lil ass on the bed n’ bend over f’daddy.” He said as he helped you to your feet, slapping your ass playfully as you passed by him to the bed, making you giggle.

You bent over, legs spread enough so he could see the thin string covering your pussy that was now a darker shade of pink from your juices. “Look at you, all nice n pretty. All this for me, sweetheart?” He asked as he slipped the thin string to the side.

You nodded your head feverishly. “Yes, daddy. M’only wet f’you.” You muttered as you teased your ass into the air, pushing it towards him. He swatted your asses harshly, once, twice, before he lined himself to your entrance.

He teased his tip into you, making you groan. “Please, please, please—“ you chanted like it was a prayer. His hand snapped to your hair, leaning your head back. “You take what I give you, wife.” He muttered as he tenderly kissed your forehead.

“Yes, daddy, m’sorry.” You muttered out, gasping as you felt his cock enter you without warning. His tip kissed your cervix, and your mouth hung open, throat going dry. “Shit, so tight. Grippin’ my cock so good.” He huffed out.

“E-Elvis!” You whimpered out, the sting making your eyes water. His heart ached at the sound of you in any kind of pain. He peppered sweet kisses along your spine and on your shoulders in reassurance. “S okay, m’ gon’ take care of ya, don’t worry.” He whispered into your hair as he kissed your head.

Your stomach felt like it was doing summer salts and butterflies exploding in it all at once. You loved him more than words could ever describe and nothing in the world would ever change the way he made you feel, even 5 years deep into marriage, he still makes you fall in love with him all over again.

A wave of pleasure consumed you as you felt him re-enter you, picking up his pace at pounding into your throbbing cunt. “Elvis! Fuck! Just like that!” You moaned out.

Every time his hips slammed into yours, you released little ‘ahs’. The sound was like music to his ears. Knowing he was making you feel good, made him feel at least 20x better. If there was one thing he took pride in, it was pleasing his woman in every way he could.

“Gonna fill this lil pussy, you want that? Hm? Want me to fill you with my babies?” He asked, his hands gripped your hips. “Yes, yes, please! Need your cum in me, daddy!” You groaned.

He pulled out of you, flipping you around before re-entering you. “Wanna see you when we cum, yeah? Gon’ see ya beautiful fuckin’ face, honey.” He moaned out as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

He was pussy drunken and his mind was fuzzy as your walls squeezed him in a vice grip. He didn’t know how much longer he would last. “Daddy! M’gonna cum, fuck m’gonna cum!” Your voice high pitched, and your head thrown back. Elvis brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing your throat just enough to make you see stars when it was paired with his piercing cock.

“Need you.” You whimpered out, grabbing at his free hand. A thing you did that Elvis thought was the cutest thing, and adored so much, was that every time you came on his cock, you made sure to hold his hand. It comforted you and Elvis loved it as he reached his high. “I’m right here, satin. Gon’ fill this cunt.” He said, biting his lip.

“Oh!” You moaned out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, covering Elvis’ lower abdomen in your vile juices just as he painted the inside of your walls white with his seed.

He fucked you through your orgasm, and you could feel each time his cock spurted out a new round of cum inside of you. His balls tightening as your sweet pussy milked him, and all he could think about was how nice and round you’ll be with his babies. The perfect wife.

Your hand reached up to lovingly cup his face, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his bitten lips.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

tag list: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts

[inesbaby21]

can u do a fic on cheerleader!r getting hurt mid game and azzi dropping everything to go help her even if it’s in the middle of a game

1st Person P.O.V

Me and a few of the girls on the cheer team were practicing, and getting ready for halftime. It was o our last halftime performance before nationals and tension was high to say the least.

Girls having open disputes about things as simple as lipstick, some crying because of hair- and bases with sweaty hands failing to catch their flyers. The entire day had been a hot mess, but the only thing that gave me a slim chance of home was that Azzi (and the girls) were aloud to watch us perform today!

It was something that was rare, but always extremely special to the both of us- as she always wanted to watch me do what I love and on her favorite spot in the world, the court.

I sit myself down on the floor beginning to tie my shoes as it's almost half time. Most of the other girls are doing stretches- or doing some last minute touch up's on that god awful red lipstick.

"Y/N/NNNN" I heard a voice drag out as i look up my eyes meet with Azzi's

"What's wrong?" Azzi says concerned- eyebrows furrowed as she tried to read my face. "S' nothing much baby, i'm just really stressed out about this routine" I say viability upset.

Usually I love flying, and doing stunts, or even tumbling but something about today just felt wrong- like I couldn't shake the feeling no matter how hard I tried.

"You're gonna do great my love, and I'll be there cheering you on- and supporting you the whole way through just like you're always doing for me" Azzi says leaning down to kiss me ultimately getting the bright red lipstick on her lips and giggling as she walks back to the bench with the disgusting color still visible on them.

"Places ladies places" I yelled looking at the clock- My coach looked at me nodding at she played a split second of the music to make sure all sound checks were cleared. Just standing in place, knowing that essentially if anything were to go wrong I was in charge was not a good feeling to have.

As the music played everyone ran to their spots, doing the elaborate dance/routine until the hard part came- I looked over to my three bases and jogged lightly to my spot.

The three girls silently counted off and very quickly got my into the air. I was in my natural habitat- this is where I never fail to deliver. I did all kinds of stunts, and kept myself upright until my bases began to walk with me. As they walked, It was choreographed that i continued to stunt.

I felt it, I heard my stunt group arguing quietly beneath the music- having had problems all week I was almost sure they were going to be at each others throats tonight.

"Ella move your fucking hand off of her right leg" Kamryn quietly yelled to the tan girl as they stopped mid step to get back to the almost muscle memory argument that had occurred since the 4 girls were placed with one another. I listened to them bicker as I continued to stunt, I couldn't stop mid leap. Unbeknownst to the arguing girls, they had lost their once strong grip on me- and almost immediately I came falling down to the ground.

As I came down, I heard Kamryn and Ella mutter a "shit"- as they heard my harsh impact with the ground and the stomach churning scream I let out as I heard something snap that Honestly wasn't supposed to.

"Oh my god" I heard my mom (and coach) yell as my vision and hearing began to fade in and out ever so slightly.

"Fuck" I heard Azzi yell as she ran over to me and my mom- watching as my body began to shake, my head almost immediately colliding with the floor as my body began to convulse. And with that ladies and gentlemen, I began to seize. Almost immediately medics came to assist the situation, and no sooner I was taken to the Hospital. I vaguely remember Ella, and Kamryn getting yelled at by my backspot, mom, and then a sobbing Azzi as they stood there still in shock.

"How could you two be so irresponsible?" My mother shouted "You had one job ladies and that was to support her- You two are done for the week ladies go home and figure out your mess come back when your ready to actually work and not waste my time." she shouted dismissing the two girls as she and Azzi followed the medics to the ambulance.

"I love you Az" I weakly said about to drift off into a meditation induced sleep. Leaning in to kiss her lips one last time for the night.

"I love you too Y/N/N- get some rest baby" she said noticing me drifting and I did just that.

this was actually kinda butt yall and i have like 5 more requests to do omg.

[why4anne]

Money Power Glory

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Mafia! au

Part: 4/?

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none

Summary: When you accidentally found yourself in the middle of a mafia show down you had no idea that your life was about to change, forever. For better or for worse.

Note: There are a lot of easter eggs and hidden clues in this chapter. I would love to hear your theories about future chapters either in the comments or through my asks🫶

Masterlist

As the days went on you got more and more familiar with the routine at the mansion, which you’ve come to know is actually named Manoir De Mendacium. Every morning at eight, a member of the staff would wake you up and tell you that Mr. Leclerc is expecting you to join him for breakfast. 

And today is no different. Like clockwork you heard a knock on your door at 8am sharp, and a voice telling you that Mr. Leclerc is waiting for you downstairs. You threw on a mesh robe over your mid length satin nightgown and headed towards the breakfast room. 

Your slippers made soft thuds against the herringbone hardwood floor as you padded along the hallways and down the grand staircase. In your first couple of days you found the dark color pallet and extravagant wood molding intimidating but as time went by you’ve actually come to like it. 

As you neared the breakfast room you could hear Charles’ voice as he was talking on the phone. 

“Make sure all parties involved in Project 8085 are compensated. We do not want this to be exposed” Charles demanded sternly into the phone before his eyes were drawn to yours. He motioned for you to sit down as he ended the phone call. “Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?” He asked as you sat down on the plush chair.

“Like a baby, as always” You couldn’t help but smile at the question. The same question he’s been asking you every morning for two weeks at this point

Charles’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, a softness in them that always made you feel safe, despite the strangeness of your situation. As breakfast is served, an assortment of pastries, fruits, and freshly squeezed juice, you tried to shake off the feeling of unease his earlier conversation had caused.

“Project 8085?” you asked, hoping your voice sounded casual.

Charles looked up, a flicker of something—annoyance?—crossed his face. “Just business, nothing for you to worry about.”

You nodded, but curiosity nagged at you but you decided to drop it. Charles motioned to the staff to begin serving breakfast. The table was laid out with a variety of dishes, from freshly baked croissants to exotic fruits and rich, aromatic coffee. You helped yourself to a little of everything, enjoying the decadent spread.

As you sipped your coffee, you noticed Charles studying you intently. His gaze was penetrating, almost as if he was trying to read your thoughts. You shifted slightly in your seat, feeling a mix of curiosity and unease.

“Is everything alright?” you asked, breaking the silence.

Charles leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins slowly, “about how we can keep you safe and still allow you some freedom. As much as I would like to, I can’t infiltrate the University to keep you safe, because technically it’s outside of the part of Monaco that I control” He says, the yellow sunlight shining through the window, lighting up the room in a juxtaposition to this dark conversation.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what did you come up with?”

“I’ve arranged for you to take online classes,” he explained. “That way, you can continue your studies without leaving the safety of the manor.”

You pondered this for a moment. “It’s not a bad idea,” you admitted. “But what about my social life? My friends?”

Charles’s expression darkened slightly. “I can’t risk your safety, not with everything that’s going on. We’ll have to be cautious about who you see and when.”

You nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, Charles. Really, I do. But I can’t help but feel a bit... isolated.”

He reached across the table and took your hand in his. “I know it’s not ideal, but it’s the best solution for now. Just until things settle down.”

You squeezed his hand, offering a reassuring smile. “I trust you.”

The rest of the breakfast was spent in companionable silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts. Afterward, Charles excused himself to attend to business matters, leaving you to explore the manor at your leisure.

As Charles left to attend to his business matters, you found yourself wandering through the halls of Manoir De Mendacium, the grandeur of the mansion still somewhat surreal to you. Each room seems to tell a story of opulence and mystery, a stark contrast to your university life just a few weeks ago.

You decided to explore beyond the confines of the breakfast room, letting your curiosity guide you. The mansion is like a maze, with its winding corridors and numerous rooms, each decorated with antique furniture and elaborate paintings. You stumbled upon a library that seems straight out of a period drama, shelves lined with leather-bound books and the air heavy with the scent of old paper. It's a peaceful sanctuary amidst the intensity of the past few weeks.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the footsteps approaching until Charles appeared at the entrance of the library. His presence startled you slightly, but his expression was soft as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Exploring, I see?" he remarked with a faint smile.

You nodded, closing the book you were perusing and placed it back on the shelf. "The library is beautiful. I didn't realize this place held so many treasures."

Charles stepped further into the room, his gaze thoughtful. "It has been in my family for generations. Each piece here tells a story, much like the people who have passed through these halls."

You sensed a melancholy in his voice, a reminder that his life is far from ordinary. "It must be quite a responsibility," you offered softly, unsure of how to broach the topic of his underworld dealings.

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of resolve and vulnerability. "It's not a life I chose, but it's one I must live. And I intend to keep you safe, no matter the cost."

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. You stepped closer to him, the urge to comfort him overwhelming. "I believe you," you said sincerely, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the situation palpable. Then, Charles cleared his throat gently, breaking the silence. "Would you like me to show you more of the mansion? There are gardens beyond these walls that are quite breathtaking."

You smiled gratefully, relieved for the change of subject. "I'd love that."

As you walked side by side through the manicured gardens, Charles pointed  out various features—the fountain where his grandfather proposed to his grandmother, the begonia flowers that have bloomed for decades, and the secret paths that wind through the estate. His demeanor softened in the sunlight, and you realized how rare these moments of peace must be for him.

"You know," Charles began as you paused near a bed of vibrant tulips, "despite everything, I'm glad you're here."

You turned to him, touched by his admission. "I'm glad too, Charles. It's all still a bit overwhelming, but being here with you... it feels right."

He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch was warm against your skin. "We'll figure this out, together."

As you looked into his green eyes, you saw a complexity that both intrigued and reassured you. Despite the dangers and uncertainties that surrounded you, in that moment, you felt a connection that transcends the circumstances that brought you together.

“I want to ask you something, sweetheart” Charles murmured and his gaze never left yours. You nodded in confirmation for him to continue. 

“I know that you didn’t want things to turn out this way, but they have. And all we can do now is make the best of a bad situation” He rambled, uncharacteristically bashful. This is not the cold and confident crime boss that you’re used to. “I guess what I’m asking of you is to give this, us, a chance”

His words hung in the air, creating a fragile tension between you. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his request. A myriad of thoughts raced through your mind—concern for your safety, the stark contrast between your old life and the one you were now living, and the undeniable attraction you felt towards Charles.

"I..." you hesitated, searching for the right words. The weight of his request hung in the air, but you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability that made you feel closer to him. "I want to give this a chance too, Charles."

A wave of relief washed over his face, and his lips curved into a genuine smile. He gently took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing gesture. "Thank you, darling. We’ll take it one step at a time."

As you continued to stroll through the gardens, the atmosphere between you shifted. There was a newfound understanding, a shared commitment to navigating this precarious path together. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of lighthearted banter and deeper confessions, revealing more layers of the man behind the Mafia boss facade.

Later that evening, you found yourself in the library once more, the ambiance warm and inviting. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a golden glow on the shelves filled with literary treasures. You had selected a novel from one of the many bookcases and settled into a plush armchair, lost in the world of fiction.

Charles entered the room, a glass of red wine in hand. He approached you with a soft smile, offering you the glass. "Thought you might like this," he said, his tone gentle.

"Thank you," you replied, accepting the glass and taking a sip. The wine was rich and velvety, a perfect complement to the cozy atmosphere. Charles sat across from you, his own glass in hand, and for a moment, you simply enjoyed the comfortable silence.

"I've been thinking," Charles began, his voice breaking the quiet. "About how we can make this arrangement work. How we can build something real, despite everything."

You looked at him over the rim of your glass, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

"I mean integrating you into my life more fully," he explained. "Not just keeping you hidden away here, but involving you in my world in a way that keeps you safe but also lets you live more freely."

The idea intrigued and terrified you in equal measure. The notion of being more involved in Charles's world was daunting, but the alternative—living in isolation—was equally unappealing. "How would that even work?" you asked, trying to wrap your mind around the concept.

Charles leaned forward, his gaze earnest. "There are ways to ensure your safety without keeping you confined to the manor. Disguises, trusted escorts, carefully planned outings. We could even set up a network of people who could keep an eye on you without drawing attention."

You considered his proposal, the implications of such a life. It would be dangerous, no doubt, but it would also mean a semblance of normalcy, a chance to experience the world beyond the walls of Manoir De Mendacium. "It's a lot to take in," you admitted. "But I appreciate that you're trying to find a balance."

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "We don’t have to decide everything right now. But I want you to know that I'm committed to finding a way for us to be together, in a way that works for both of us."

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you at his words. "Thank you, Charles. For everything."

He reached out, taking your hand once more. "We'll get through this, darling. Together."

As the evening wore on, the two of you sat by the fire, sharing stories and dreams, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment. Despite the shadows that loomed over your lives, there was a sense of hope, a belief that love could flourish even in the most unexpected of places.

Tag-list:

@cmleitora @anne1444444@halover13@buendiabebeta@buttfug213@annie115 @glai1023-blog  @phantomxoxo@barcelonaloverf1life@abs0lute1yn0t@andjelaiscool

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 4

Oops! I didn't realize this one had so many chapters done. I had been using it as my "I'm stuck on the other two stories so I work on this one to clear my head" story and I currently have five chapters backlogged. So instead of Batshit Soulmates today, you're getting two of this one. One now and one tonight.

In this chapter we have Eddie doing his research and we find out how he recognized Steve. Also Jeff&Eddie besties for life!

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The last few days in Hawkins went by in a blur. Eddie couldn’t do the research he wanted to, not without alerting everyone else what he was up to, so he focused on buying both their albums and listening to them nonstop.

“This that band you went to go see?” Wayne asked after three days of him having both albums on constant repeat. “The one you were whining about have to go to?”

Eddie sat up from where he laying on the floor with headphones on and took them off, resting them around his neck. He pulled one knee up and draped his arms around it casually.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Dustin has been gloating about it, so I would rather you didn’t add to the pile.”

Wayne crouched down so that they were eye level. “This about that secret you found out?”

Eddie opened his mouth to lie but Wayne just raised an eyebrow and he snapped his mouth shut with a click. He let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s about that.”

Wayne picked up the vinyl sleeve and looked at the cover. He studied the image a moment or two before he said, “You think that someone you know is in the band, don’t you?”

Eddie bit his lower lip and then sighed heavily. He knew he couldn’t keep it from Wayne, but he had hoped he would have been back in Cali before he realized it.

“I’m not one hundred percent sure,” he said tilting his head back, “but yeah. I think I know someone in the band.”

“You jumping to conclusions?” Wayne asked in that gruff but gentle way that was a staple of Eddie’s childhood.

Eddie looked up at Wayne and then shook his head. “I don’t know enough. Not yet.”

Wayne got to his feet with a grunt. “Good. You keep it that way. There’s probably a good reason for all that.” He waved at the vinyl sleeve. “So don’t you go pushing your friend’s buttons until you know that reason.”

Eddie nodded. “I read you loud and clear.”

Wayne ruffled Eddie’s hair and walked away, leaving Eddie with plenty of time to think.

****

Dustin was staying in Hawkins for the whole summer, so when Eddie left, he was finally on his own.

Finally able to get out of his head and do some real research. He also knew better than to do anything than listen to his own music mid-flight. Too many wandering eyes.

Any one of his fellow passengers could be some blogger, Youtuber, Tiktoker, influencer or actual fucking press.

Thankfully the flight was most empty and short.

He was met at the airport by his manager Chrissy Cunningham.

She grabbed his bag, leaving Eddie to juggle his guitar better.

“Record management has all four of you in a hotel nearby,” she told him as she stowed the bag in her trunk. “They want you sequestered this time.”

Eddie winced. It wasn’t for any music related reason, though he didn’t doubt the sequestering would help with the process.

Nope.

It was because last time Gareth and Brian went on a three day drinking bender and were too sloshed to function for at least two days after that. Almost a whole week of recording down the drain because half the band went off the rails.

“Roger that!” Eddie said with a jaunty two fingered salute.

“You can have alcohol sent to your room,” she continued as they got into the car. “But Gareth and Brian aren’t allowed. So if you share your stash, that’s on you.”

“You can count on me and Jeff not contribute to the delinquency of our bandmates,” Eddie bit out. “We were just as pissed as the label when we couldn’t get a hold of them for those five days.”

Chrissy nodded. “Fame can really do some fucked up shit to people.”

Eddie hummed his acknowledgment. “Just please tell me I’m not sharing with anyone. You know they all hate sleeping in the same room as me.”

Chrissy snorted. “Only because you stay up all hours of the night perfecting song, while they actually want to, oh I don’t know...sleep?”

Eddie cackled. He was the world’s worst insomniac when they were working on an album. The rest of the time he was a sound sleeper.

“But no,” Chrissy hummed, “you all have your own suites. With Brian and Gareth on opposite sides of the hotel so they don’t fuel each other’s vices.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “That’s great news.”

They went up to Eddie’s suite and he immediately got to unpacking. He couldn’t stand living out of his suitcase and didn’t know how anyone else could.

He ordered a couple of six packs of beer, his favorite vodka, and a couple of whiskys that should last him at least a couple of weeks. He stashed the beer in the suite provided mini-fridge and settled down to watch Youtube on the big screen TV.

He was just devouring everything he could on The Fallen. He started with their music videos. The one for “Kiss the Boys/Kiss the Girls” was especially sweet. He found out that the lead singer was bisexual and that the song was about finding love in whatever form that took. With a full verse on non-binary peeps despite the title.

But the videos weren’t helpful. The band themselves were rarely in them. So Eddie turned to interviews. Impromptu ones on red carpets and podcasts, as well as sit down interviews for talk shows and entertainment press.

Again the lead singer was charismatic and charming. And it was looking more and more like his theory was correct.

Then he came across the interview.

“How does Azrael see out of his mask?” the Vanity Fair interviewer asked.

The drummer pulled out another mask and handed it to Abbadon. It seemed like it was part of the shtick that the drummer never spoke.

Abbadon held up the mask to the light. “You can see that the eyes are a mesh-like material. It works like a one way mirror. You with the strong light, can’t see in, but Azrael with darkness of the mask can see out.”

Eddie hummed his interest. That was a cool trick. It meant that the drummer wouldn’t get hurt while still maintaining that anonymity.

And it appeared that the interview thought the same as they nodded along, impressed.

“What is the reason for the masks?”

Astraeus leaned forward into the mic. “Because when we first got started no one would take us seriously as ourselves?”

Just then the hotel door swung open and Eddie quickly pressed pause. He sighed with relief when he saw it was Jeff.

Jeff stopped in his tracks to stare at the screen. “Oh hey, The Fallen. They’re pretty cool.”

Eddie whipped his head around and glared at him.

“How do you know about them and I didn’t?”

Jeff laughed. “Dude, the radio embargo was you thing, not an everyone thing. They’re really good. I love their new single ‘You’. It’s really sweet.”

Eddie nodded, it was really good. It was one was of his favorites, too.

Jeff got closer to the TV. “Wait. Is this the ‘metal fans would hate us if they saw who we really are’ interview?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Jeff scoffed. “Metal fans are the most welcoming group of fans out there.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip and thought about Steve. And how preppy he still dressed even this far outside of high school.

“Not if they were preps,” he said softly.

That brought Jeff up short. “What now?”

“I think Abbadon is Steve.”

Jeff started laughing and laughing like he couldn’t stop. Eddie rolled his eyes and pulled up the picture he had taken of The Fallen’s lead singer. Once Jeff had gotten control of himself, Eddie showed him the picture.

“Okay...” Jeff said. “I’m not sure what this shows other than your obsession with necks.”

“Zoom in.”

Jeff rolled his eyes but did as he was told. “Okay, so what am I looking at?”

Eddie licked his lips nervously. “You see those two moles, just under his chin?”

Jeff half shrugged. “I mean, I guess.”

“Steve has moles in the exact same place,” Eddie explained. He took the phone back from Jeff and went through his IG feed. He pulled up a picture of Steve. The angle wasn’t exact, but it was close enough.

He handed it back to Jeff. “Now zoom in on the neck.”

Jeff did as he was told.

“Holy fucking shit!”

Eddie pursed his lips and chewed on the bottom one. He played with his rings and was just fidgeting.

“Dude!” Jeff cried. “We should tell someone!”

Just then Eddie’s fidgeting hit the remote and the video began playing again.

“Is there any chance of a future reveal?” the interviewer asked.

Asmodeus leaned into the mic and said, “Ask us again in ten years when we’re world famous.”

Eddie managed to get a hold of the remote to pause it again and in the resulting silence Jeff and him shared a glance.

“Fuck, dude,” Jeff said. “We can’t say shit, can we?”

Eddie shook his head. “It would be like outing a queer person before they were ready.”

Jeff came around the sofa and flopped down next to him.

“Wow,” he said with more than a little awe. “So Steve Harrington is in a metal band...” He let out a shuddering sigh. “And is good. Not just good, but damn good.”

Eddie nodded. “Is it bad that I kinda feel like I’ve been tricked?”

Jeff let out a slow breath. “Look, I’m not going to tell you how to feel, but if no one knows, that it’s not personal.”

“You mean to tell me that no one knows?” Eddie hissed, getting to feet. “Not Robin, not Dustin? Or any of the kids? Because I call bullshit!”

Jeff looked up at him. “Robin, maybe. Those two are attached at the hip. Hell, Robin could even be their slinky and sexy manager, Celeste. But Dustin, man? I wouldn’t tell that kid shit. Not if I wanted it to still be secret ten minutes later.”

Eddie fought to calm his breathing. Yeah okay. That tracked. Robin with makeup and a black wig would completely disguise her to the point that not even her own mother would recognize her if they passed on the street.

“Dustin wouldn’t–” he began but Jeff cut him off.

“This is the kid that spoiled Will’s surprise party that he was planning,” Jeff said, counting off on his fingers. “The kid that would go searching through his mom’s closets and under her bed looking for birthday and Christmas presents. The same one that announced our second album six hours before it was set to drop. I wouldn’t tell Dustin Henderson the time of day if I didn’t want everyone to know about it.”

Eddie huffed. He wanted to argue that all that was little shit. Not really that important. But then he remembered all the times where Dustin would say something out of context, something that all his friends would jump on him for, only for it to be revealed later that Dustin had spoiled some surprise. It was just that no one had realized it at the time.

This time he let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said, sitting back down next to Jeff on the sofa. “And I know that if Steve had come to me and said he wanted to form a metal band, I would have laughed in his face.”

Jeff gave his knee a squeeze. “We all would have. So let’s do what we do best. We change the culture. We make the metal scene open to people of all walks of life, not just the freaks and outcasts. We make it safe for them to come out.”

Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah. I could do that. We could do that.”

“Good,” Jeff said, patting Eddie’s knee. “It’s not going to be easy, but we’ve never liked easy.”

Eddie laughed as Jeff got up. “So what are you doing in my room anyway? Don’t you have your own?”

Jeff opened the mini fridge and took out a can of beer. “I forgot to order beer and I hate it warm, so I thought I’d steal one of yours.”

Eddie threw a throw pillow at him, which Jeff deftly caught and lobbed back at him.

Jeff came over and kissed his cheek. “Get out of your head and do something with all that restless energy you’ve built up with this eating away at you.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, man. Thanks.”

Just as Jeff reached the door, he called out. “What would you and the boys think about inviting them to open for us on our next tour?”

Jeff grinned. “They would probably kiss you on the mouth.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Tag List: @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @papergrenade @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my partner not to interrupt me while I'm streaming?

Asking on here because she has Reddit and I don't want to upset her further while I ask for an outside consensus.

I stream video game content as a profession. Playthroughs, mods, tutorials, reviews, ect. I found streaming to be more profitable than pre-filmed video content. I'd say on average I can "work" for 10 - 30 hours a week.

She works on an alternating schedule where she does a week of full time hours then a week of part time hours. All in all, we work pretty reasonable hours between us, I feel, and we are agreeably not lacking in spending time together.

We routinely go on dates, we more often than not have dinner together, and I typically don't stream for more than 2-4 hours consecutively, so its not as if I'm locked up in my office for the majority of the time.

However over the last few months my partner has developed the habit of simply walking in whenever I'm streaming and starting up random conversations with me, playing her own games loudly in the background, constantly interrupting me to read out chat comments or ask questions about the game, ect.

Sometimes it isn't so bad, but generally its pretty disruptive. I wouldn't mind if it was just occasionally or if she just popped in now and then, but its grown to the point where its almost every single stream and I've noticed I've lost a handful of frequent viewers over it.

It came to an unpleasant confrontation over the weekend, when I was streaming a highly requested tutorial walkthrough for a recently released game and she decided to come in, try to sit on my lap and start a conversation about a client's dogs she met today.

I was trying to figure out a polite way to ask her to give me another 40 minutes so I could finish the quest line and shut it down for the day when two people in the chat began to make jokes about how she never leaves me alone and said it 'gave cam check vibes.'

I pretended not to notice, but she did, and clearly it hurt her feelings and she mumbled about having some things to do and left. I felt awful that her feelings were hurt so I closed the stream early and went to find her.

She was pretty upset about the comments and tried to get me to validate that she wasn't disruptive or unwelcome. I assured her that I don't mind the occasional visit or if she wants to play her own games in the background on mute/low volume/with earphones in, but that I have actually been meaning to ask her to give me a little more curtesy when I'm streaming because its hard to have dynamic engagement when I can't actually talk to anyone because she's talking non-stop or her own game volume is distorting the sound.

I tried to say it as gently as possible but it was clear that the more we discussed it, the more upsetting it was for her. She called time on the conversation by abruptly saying she'll just 'never so much as walk past the door' when I'm streaming, and that she didn't want to talk about it anymore.

She was only working a half-day today and I was streaming between mid-day and the early afternoon. When I said goodbye to her this morning she made sure to somewhat sarcastically assure me that she wouldn't dare interrupt my stream today, and she hoped it went well.

She refused to discuss it further when she came home, or over dinner, and since dinner she's shut herself in the conservatory and has been on the phone to a friend.

I'd like to discuss it further because I'm discontent with her being upset about it, but I'm also not particularly agreeable with me being in the wrong here. Streaming is my job. We pay equal expenses, so its not as if this is just a silly little fake job or hobby for me while she foots the bills. I rely on viewers to get paid, and when quite a few of them leave because I've had to stop playing for 20 minutes to listen to her chat, it could negatively impact my ability to bring home a reasonable contribution.

Ordinarily we can resolve any conflicts or disagreements quickly and fairly. We've never been the sort of couple to spend days being passive aggressive or refusing to talk.

With her being so resolute in being upset and not communicating, I'm at a loss for if I'm actually in the wrong or not for asking her to be more mindful of interrupting me and causing disruptions while I'm working.

What are these acronyms?

[nyasiaaaaa]

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse)  Fem reader x Micheal ( platonic )

Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him. 

Word count: 8.4k

Warnings: Cursing, guns, Smut,  piv, ,oral (both M & F), overstimulation, dacryphilia, dub con ( not really but putting this warning here just in case)   Kissing, angst, hurt/ no comfort ,Tommy Shelby, ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.)

A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually. 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4   part 6

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

One week goes by, and you're good. A second week goes by, and you start to get back to how you were before Thomas; you've been going out with your friends and sleeping in your own bed. 

Life has been............... okay.

By the third week, not only were you acting like your old self, but you were also starting to feel like your old self. 

Slowly but surely, you were leaving Thomas Shelby in the past and looking towards the future. It helped that you never seen peaky men, like never. None came to the hospital or out at the bars. If you were crazy, you would've thought it had something to do with you, but you heard in passing that something was going on between the Russians and Tommy. 

You're just grateful that you're no longer a part of that life; instead of spending your nights watching over and fixin' peaky men, you're out with your girls. 

Like today, you're on your way home after celebrating your friend's birthday; you're tired. You worked a 12-hour shift and might've finished a whole bottle of gin by yourself. 

It takes you a while to get home; you get lost twice and stop often to stop yourself from throwing up. But finally, you found your way home. You push through the building door and pull yourself up the steps to your door. Once you reach the top, you stop to take a breather; you look up and realize your door is slightly open. 

You might not be 100% there right now, but you know for a fact that when you left this morning, you locked the door. 

Maybe your landlord came through, but that wouldn't make sense. You didn't report anything broken, and your rent hasn't been late in months. 

You decide to just get up because you won't figure out who's in there by just sitting there. You pull yourself up with the rail and walk towards your front door. 

You're hesitant. 

You stand at the door, peeking through the crack, trying to see if you could see anything, but it's pitch black. 

You take a deep breath and slowly push the door open; you peek your head in and scan the room, not seeing anything or anyone. You continue into the room and slowly shut the door behind you. Slowly and as quietly as possible, you make your way into the kitchen to grab a knife.

You grab the biggest knife out of the holder and tighten your grip as you scan the room again. Once it's clear, you start heading towards your bedroom. The bedroom door is also slightly cracked; you can't remember if you left it open.

You stand in front of the bedroom door and again try to peak through the crack but cannot see anything, so slowly, you push open the door to the room. 

You kinda see a silhouette lying in the bed; their back is towards you, so you can't make out a face; even if they were facing you, it's too dark to see anything. 

Carefully, you place your feet on the wooden floor, careful to not make too much noise as you creep forward to the intruder in your bed. You get close to them, still unable to see their face as their arm is lying on top of their covering it. 

You get a little closer to them, trying to see their face, but instantly, you take a couple of steps back after catching a whiff of them. They reeked of whiskey like they soaked themselves in a bath of it. 

Taking a deep breath before trying to step to them again. With one hand, you slowly reach down to remove their arm from their face; with the other, you hold the knife up high. 

.

.

.

You feel kinda dumb cause just a second ago, you were hovering above this mystery person, and now you lay beneath them with a gun pressed to your side. 

You lay there confused for a second before you realize who's on top of you.

 Thomas 

You mustard up all your strength and push Tommy off you; you get up off the bed and take a couple of steps away from him.

Your pissed or……. That’s how you try to seem but it's hard to convey an emotion you don't feel. 

"What are you doing here, Tommy?" you ask. 

"sleepin," he said like it was the most obvious thing. 

"Tommy, don't play. What are you doing here in my bed uninvited."

"your place is closer than mine; I was out." he shrugged his shoulders before turning over and lying back down. 

"What are you doing, Tommy? You have a place here in Birmingham." You walk over to him to stop him from going back to sleep, but either it was too late, or he was faking it cause no matter how hard you shook, he didn't get back up. 

You have mixed emotions. You don't know how you feel. But honestly, you're too drunk to try to figure those out now. You grab the blanket from the end of the bed along with a pillow and head towards your living room to sleep on the couch. 

You get comfortable on the couch and fall fast asleep. 

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

You wake up with a slight headache, but besides that, you feel pretty good. You're surprised; you've slept on that couch several times, and each time was worse than the last. It looks pretty, but that's it. 

As you stretch out, you realize that not only are you not hurt, but the couch feels really soft, like bed soft. 

You shoot up and realize that you're, in fact, not on the couch but in your bed. And your alone, you touch the other side of the bed, and it's kinda warm; Tommy was here not too long ago. You wonder how long ago he left and when exactly did you end up in this bed. 

You sit on the edge of your bed, scanning the room over, seeing if any of his things are still here, but everything is gone, indicating that he did, in fact, leave. 

You are still not sure how to feel, but you were praying that it was a one-time thing because you had just started feeling like yourself, 

barely, 

you're right at the edge. 

And if you saw Tommy again under any circumstances, you might just go over that cliff. 

You shake your head to get rid of your thoughts; you have a long day at work and need a clear head to get through it. You get up, pop a few pills, and head out the door to go to work. 

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

When you were younger, your mom always said, "Be careful what you wish for because it might just come true." 

Back then, it was just childish kids' things like no more school, but in this moment, you can't help but think back on that. How right she was how things seem to come true even if you wish them unconsciously. 

You'll admit there was a part of you not that deep down that wanted Tommy to come back into your life, and then last night, he appeared. Earlier today, another part of you wished you could come home to him again. 

And yes, you understand that coming home to him isn't the same as what you trying to make it seem.

But you don't care. 

So when you came home later that night and saw Tommy in your bed again, you couldn't help the slight smile that crept up your face. 

As you approached him, you noticed that he seemed to be sleeping again, but only this time, he didn't seem passed out drunk, and he left the covers next to him and flipped over, leaving room for you. 

At this point, you didn't care about what happened a couple of weeks ago; maybe he wasn't ready for anything serious like that. Grace hadn't died that long ago. But it's obvious that he's open to it; he's here right now, meaning he's making an effort. 

Right?

Honestly, you knew the excuses you were coming up with were full of shit, but you didn't care; you stripped off your clothes and changed into a nightgown. You walked towards your bed and hopped between the sheets, snuggling up, trying to get warm. 

Warmth came quick as Tommy turned over and pulled you by your waist closer to him. You lay there listening to his breath, which slowly evened out as he fell back asleep. You pulled your hand out from underneath his and placed it onto his. 

You moved back closer to him, nuzzling up to him; you were enjoying this a bit too much. You knew this, but it felt good to be close to him like this again. To have his arm wrapped around you like this, the things it made you feel, was better than any drug. 

You fall asleep in minutes. 

When you woke up, Tommy was gone again.

And again, you got up, got dressed, and went to work, but this time, your prayers weren't so slight. 

.

.

.

You think you are some kind of witch because that can be the only reason Tommy is in your bed again that night. 

Again, you got undressed and into a nightgown before crawling into the sheets with Tommy, who immediately grabbed you close and held you. And just like last night, you savored this feeling, this warm feeling, this safe feeling. 

You soaked it all up as you fell asleep. 

The next day, you woke up alone again and came home to him again. It got to the point where you didn't even have to hope that he would be there because you already knew he was going to be. 

And every morning when you woke up, he was gone. No words were exchanged, no conversations were held, Y'all just slept; it was nothing more. 

You don't know how long this went on, maybe a month, you forget, but every day you saw him waiting for you was another great day. 

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

You woke up one morning and were surprised by the sight of Tommy.

 At some point in the night, he had let go of you and just laid facing you. 

You scooted closer to him and started tracing his face with your eyes.

He looked so peaceful when he slept; he didn't look stressed or murderous; he actually looked friendly, warm, and inviting. 

You can't help yourself, and you reach out to push back some of his hair that has fallen out of place; as you do this, Tommy leans into your touch. You pull back, startled by the sudden movement. 

Tommy opens his eyes but doesn't make a move, and neither do you. 

Even though you two have been physically intimate, this felt more exposing. 

You don't know why you asked this, but it has been on your mind for quite some time, and seeing as this is one of the rare times you caught him awake, you decide to just blurt it out.

"What do you mean when you say "In a bleak winter" like, why do you say it?" 

Tommy was quiet for so long that you thought you had crossed a line, but then he suddenly started talking. He tells you how he, his brothers, and Jeremiah were trapped in a Tunnel with no way to escape and the enemy closing in. They were scared but tried to put on brave faces, and that's when Jeremiah said maybe they should all sing In a bleak mid-winter, and they did. They vowed to God that If he spared their life, they would be grateful and make the most of the time they've been granted. But when it is their time to go, they will say In a bleak mid-winter to remember when God spared them once and to fully accept that their time has now come. 

You lay there for a second before pushing aside your second thoughts and pulling Tommy close and kissing him; you kissed him with everything you had. You poured every feeling you ever felt for him into that kiss. 

And you swear he kissed you back as if he felt the same. 

You pulled back and held his face in your hands as you spoke. 

"We know each other, we can talk, we're the same. You know. I've never met a man like you, Tommy. Someone who gets me like you do, someone who I feel like I know like no other. " 

Tommy gave you this look; you couldn't read his face to save your life. It didn't waver your feelings in the slightest; you didn't expect him to say anything back anyway. You gave him one last kiss before letting him go. 

 You had a good feeling, but you didn't know why; things just felt like they were finally heading in the right direction like you and Tommy had finally jumped over that last hurdle that was keeping you back. 

 Tommy even gave you a goodbye kiss before he walked out.

Things could only go up from here. 

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

You didn't see Tommy for a week. 

Every night, you came home, and he wasn't there; you even waited the first couple of nights. Maybe he got caught up, you thought, but it was clear he wasn't coming when it was a quarter past 3 am. 

The next night, you tried to wait up again but fell asleep soon after you got in bed. When you woke up, you reached out to the other side and found it cold. Again, you slept alone, and the night after that, and the one after that, too. 

This might sound crazy if you said it out loud, but you have gotten so used to sleeping with Tommy that you have forgotten how to sleep alone. 

All night, you would constantly toss and turn, never finding a comfortable position.

You were hurting. 

Not only cause of the lack of sleep, but again, in came Tommy, and you completely lost yourself.  

You don't know what it is about Tommy Shelby that makes you lose all common sense; you've never felt like this for any other man; you've gotten to the point where you question your sanity. What is it about Tommy? Do you get off with being with a man like Tommy? 

Or is it something deeper? Does this all go back to that night, 

that night, you saved him. 

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

You had just finished up your shift at the hospital and was walking home. It was dark and cold; you were tired, so you grabbed the sides of your jacket, pulling it closer to your body as you buried your chin in your jacket. You kept your head down and walked faster; you couldn't wait to get home.

You had been so focused on getting home and a little too caught up in your head to notice a car had slowed down and been riding alongside you. 

The only reason you did notice was because the car had come to a stop making a noise, and someone had gotten out, making their way towards you. The darkness outside, combined with the bright lights from the car, made it impossible to see who was approaching you. 

In a panic, you reached into your purse to search for the gun Tommy had given you a couple of weeks back; it was a small handgun, small enough to fit into your purse without being noticed, but still, if fired, it would get the job done. 

You pull the gun out and aim it towards your attacker with your finger on the trigger. Without hesitation, you pull the trigger, but at the same time, your arm gets pushed up, and you get pushed against the wall. 

You start thrusting around and screaming as you struggle against your capturer.

They immediately put their hand on your mouth and pressed their body against yours. 

You had been so distracted with trying to get away that you didn't even notice that the person holding you captive had been calling your name. You only notice after you are forced to calm down. 

You blink your eyes rapidly in an effort to get rid of your tears as you lean closer to the person pressed against you. It takes you a couple of seconds, but soon, you realize who has you against the wall. You let your head fall back against the brick wall as you exhale the breath you've been holding. 

After they realize you've calmed down, they back off you and take a couple of steps back. 

Taking one last deep breath, you push yourself off the wall as you confront the man standing before you. 

"What the fuck, Micheal? What's with ya running up on me like that? I could've killed ya." 

He let out a dry laugh as he licked his lips. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? Bloody hell, you almost put me on the ground." 

"it's your fault who runs up on women like that at night." 

He looks at you for a second, utterly puzzled, then in a flash, he's in your face, so close you could feel his breath on your cheek as it warms your face. 

"Maybe next time— you should pay more attention to your surroundings. Like you said, you are women walking all alone at night." His finger trailed down your arm as he spoke to you. 

He licks his lips and stares down at yours, his eyes darting back and forth between your eyes and lips. Slowly, he leans down and— 

You push him off you and slap him across his face. 

He laughs and grabs his face, his thumb sweeping across his lips as he wipes the small amount of blood you drew. 

"What Do You Want?" Annoyance laced in your voice; you're physically and mentally tired

"Tommy." Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of the name. "He sent me to get you Ch—" 

"Did he also tell you to try to kiss me, or did you add that all on your own?" 

Again, the only response was a slight chuckle; he walked away from you and reached for the car door handle, opening it before continuing. 

"It's Charlie; he was kidnapped and wanted you to give him a check." 

Your heart dropped

Quickly, you moved off the wall and walked towards the car; you got in and pulled the door behind you, shutting it. Micheal jogged to the other side, hopped in, and took off. 

You were nervous,

Nervous to see Tommy and nervous about whatever happened to Charlie. Was he hit or abused? It made you sick to your stomach to think of what these people could've possibly done to this little boy. 

You understand there are no rules when it comes to life like Tommy's, but people have to have their own morals about things, at least when it comes to children. 

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't notice that you had already pulled up to the house until Micheal opened your door. 

You got out and followed Micheal through the house; you thought back to the only other time you had been here and how you wished you were there now under such joyous circumstances. 

Micheal brings you up to a room on the top floor and pushes open the doors, letting you go first and him follow. 

You see Charlie being bounced by a maid as he cries out; as you enter the door, she turns and looks at you; she gives you a once over before walking up to you and handing the baby off to you. 

She does it with such quickness that it catches you off guard, making you basically have to catch the baby in mid-air. She quickly walks out of the room, mumbling something about needing a smoke break. 

You glanced down at Charlie before looking over at Micheal, who gave you a creepy smile.

You roll your eyes as you take the baby to the changing table. To your surprise, you see some basic medical tools already at the table: a stethoscope, blood pressure pad, and more.

You reached down, picked up the stethoscope, and began your exam.

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

You had just finished up your exam and were bouncing Charlie in your arms as you attempted to put him to sleep. You paced around the room, all while Micheal stared at you, following your every move. 

Soon, Charlie fell asleep, and you were able to put him in his crib; you didn't want to leave until you gave Thomas the update on his son personally, but also, you just wanted to see him check in on him, with everything going on you know he must be stressed out. 

You decided it was ok to leave the baby with Micheal and went for the door to head out. Almost instantly, Micheal got up, blocking your way out. 

Frustrated, you blow out a puff of air as you step back and look at him with a hand on your hip. 

"Where you going?" he asked as he moved away from the door and walked towards you.

"What's it to you?" you stood in your place, trying to stand your ground.

"You're going to see Tommy?" he questioned you, even though he already knew the answer.

"And If I was" 

"Then I guess you're not the woman I thought." 

This time, it was you that step closer to him. 

"And what do you mean by that?" you asked.

"I just thought you had more respect for yourself than that, I guess' He said, shrugging, then walked away. 

Without hesitation, you pushed him against the wall. You tried your best to seem intimidating, but it was useless; even though you had him in this position, he still towered over you, and you still had to look up to him. 

"What are you saying? Just spit it out," you said 

"It's just I don't understand how you let him in your bed night after night, even after he slept with Lizzie or his horse girl, but never you. Well, not in that way—" 

"You lie." 

He pushed your arm off him as he stood up, towering over you but keeping his closeness.

"And why would I do that?" he said with a smile on his face like he knew he had you. 

You were about to speak up again when suddenly the door opened, and Arthur came in; he paused as he looked at you and Michael's closeness. You step away from Micheal with haste and cross the room closer to where Charlie is. You even pretend to check if he is still sleeping, but you already know he is. 

"Yeah, Arthur," Micheal asked. 

"Tommy calling a family meeting now," he said before giving you a glance over once more and walking out of the room. 

Micheal gives you a slight smile before heading out of the room and shutting the door. You stood there for a couple of minutes feeling dumb, honestly. Today had just been a lot in a short amount of time. 

You decide to sit down and wait for the maid to come back, seeing as you didn't want to leave the baby alone, and you had decided to give the report of Charlie's check-up to her because you didn't give it to Micheal before he left.

You didn't feel the need to see Tommy anymore. 

You walked across the room and sat in the rocking chair closest to Charlie's crib; you sat down and looked down at the baby as he slept. He looked so peaceful, you envied that. 

As you rocked back and forth, your throat started to hurt as you tried to fight back your tears. Time and time again, you let Tommy hurt you in so many ways, and Time and Time again, you let him back into your life without so much as a sorry. 

You felt pathetic. Micheal was right not to recognize you cause you don't even recognize yourself. 

You put your hand to your mouth as you try to muffle a cry; you would like to wake the baby. 

You sit back in the chair, slowly rocking yourself as tears start to fall freely now. Occasionally, you bring your sleeve up to wipe your face as you stare out the window, slowly rocking yourself till you eventually fall asleep. 

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

You don't know how long you were asleep, but when the maid came in and woke you up, it was still dark out, and Charlie was still asleep. You had tried to leave after she took over, but she said Tommy requested to see you and to relay the update only to him. When you tried to decline, she insisted, stating that everyone was out and he was the only one here to take you home. 

This is one of the few rare moments where you actually wish Micheal was here. 

The maid had came and woke you up about thirty minutes ago. Finding his study only took about ten minutes, so you've been standing outside his office for about 20 minutes. 

You haven't even attempted to knock. You know he's in there. You can hear moving around, but you just stand there. 

You're not ready. 

You don't know what will happen once you go through these doors, but you just know you're not ready. 

You take a deep breath and try to remind yourself that you're only here to give him an update, and once that's over, you need to leave. 

You raise your hand slowly and pause again; you're so nervous, not because you have to see Tommy but because you know whenever you get around him, you just lose yourself. 

You quickly knock on the door before you can second-guess yourself.

"Come in." 

You push open the door and brace yourself as you walk in and close the door behind you. 

When you walk in, you see Tommy sitting at his desk with a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring at the fire lit in the fireplace. 

He looks over at you for a second before focusing his attention on the fire. 

"How Charlie?" he asks 

"He's fine besides a few scratches that honestly seem self-inflicted his fine." 

"Thank you," he says but still doesn't look at you. 

"You welcome. Is that all I can go no-"

"What's going on with you and Micheal?" he spoke, his voice laced with venom and whiskey.

You were taken aback, confused at first why he asked you something like that, but then your mind went back to how Arthur caught you and Micheal earlier. 

"What's it to you? Why do you care who I fuck” Even if it wasn't true, you didn't care; how dare he get mad at you after all he's done. 

You swear you didn't even see him get up

You swear you blinked, and the next thing you knew, he was in your face; you tried to back away from him. But to no avail as you back hit the door. 

"Cause he ignored a direct order." He was so close to you that you could smell the whiskey on his breath.

You were sad before, honestly hurt, but now you were angry.

"So let me get this right, you can fuck Lizzie and that horse bitch and come lay in my bed after. But I can't fuck who I want."

"Your damn, right?" 

"Fuck You, Tommy" You pushed him off you as you tried to turn around to open the door but immediately got pushed back against the door. 

"Tomm-"you got cut off when his lip landed on yours. 

Again, you tried to push him back but were only able to take a gasp of air before you were back against the wall with his lip against yours. 

This kiss wasn't like the one before; it wasn't slow or gentle, it was rough and sloppy. 

When you tried to push him off you again, he grabbed onto your hands and pinned them above your head against the door; he then placed his knee in between your legs, separating them. 

"Say you mine," he said as he lifted your dress.

"Tommy Wh-" you gasped when his finger glazed across your clit over your panties. 

"Say your mine." 

You tried to fight it, but your silence only encouraged him more as he slipped his hand into your panties and started rubbing slow circles on your clit. 

"Say it," He whispered against your ear as he nibbled on your ear lobe before trailing down your neck.

"Say your mine," he practically begged you as he increased his pace on your clit 

You don't know if it's cause you haven't been touched in so long or because Thomas Shebly is practically begging on his knees for you, but finally, you gave in.

His lips brushed against yours once again, and this time, you kissed him. You kissed him with everything you had; this time, you knew he did too. 

Suddenly, he pulled his hand from your panties and pulled back from kissing you; you stared up at him, confused and scared,

Not again, you thought. 

To your surprise, Tommy slowly let go of your hands and got down on his knees; his hand slowly went down your body as he fell to his knees. 

You looked down at him as he slowly pulled your panties down your legs and helped you step out of them. 

He bunched them up in his hand before bringing them up to his face to take a sniff; his eyes rolled as he let out a low groan; he quickly placed them in his pants pocket, then placed himself in between your legs and slowly lifted one your legs over his shoulder. 

Your heart pounded in your chest as you reached out in an attempt to grab onto something to not only brace yourself but hold you up. 

He pulled you down to him as he came closer to your cunt, he rubbed his face between your thighs as he took another sniff, and again he let out a low groan, but this time, you could feel it, and it went straight to your core causing you to clinch around air. 

He was playing, and as he hovered over right where you needed him most, you started to bounce up and down as you lost patience. 

"Tommy, please." 

"Say it." 

"What" 

"Say it." 

You suddenly realize that you had never said it, what he has been begging you to say, and at this point, you don't care what Micheal thinks of you or what you even think of yourself. 

"I'm yours," you whisper out, and at first, you don't think he heard you, so you say it again. 

"I'm yours, Tommy. I'm you-"The words get caught in your thought as he starts to attack your clit

Your mouth falls open as you let out a string of moans; with one hand on the door nob, the other reaches out as you grab his hair, and you try to pull him closer as if he can come closer. 

His tongue did circles on your clits before he started fucking you with his tongue, 

"F-fuck Tommy," you said as you fucked yourself on his face.

You were close, and he could feel it by the way you clinched around his tongue.

"Tommy, please, I'm so close, please." 

Tommy drew away from you for a second before replacing his tongue with his fingers; you cried out as he curled his finger in you. Your hips bucked as he started sucking on your clit. 

You tried to warn Tommy that you were about to come but couldn't seem to find the words as your legs clamped around his head and your eyes rolled back as you came undone. 

You rode out your high on Tommy's face, and he didn't seem to mind as he never came up for air and licked everything up, not letting anything slip by. 

He moves back from between your legs, giving you a few pecks along your thigh before setting your leg down and slowly standing up, lifting your dress up as he goes. 

You raise your arms as you help him help you out of the clothes; he tosses them across the room and instantly captures your lips in a kiss; this kiss is more gentle than the first. 

Your tounges dance along each other, and you taste yourself along his lips, letting out a soft moan.

You stay pushed against the wall as he brushes his hand up against your breast, trailing up, bringing his hand up to your throat; he closes his fingers around your throat, pushing you back harshly. 

His lips pull away from yours but stay hovering above as they tease you.

His lips playfully brush across yours a couple of times before he leans back in for a kiss, then pulls away again; he slowly backs up, giving you a slight tung at the neck to follow. He drops his hand from your neck and grabs your hand, pulling you along to the couch in the middle of the room. 

He pushes you done to the couch before standing in front of you. Your face to face with his cock, but he grabs your chin with his thumb forcing you to look up at him. You lick your lip, looking up at him all doe-eyed. 

He binds down, giving you one last peak before standing up and taking off his suspenders; he drops them, proceeds to unbutton his pants, and pulls them down along with his boxers in one swoop. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of him; you lick your lips once more before grabbing hold of him and leaning forward; you give the head a kiss and a quick kitten lick. 

You glance up at Tommy, who doesn't seem to be in the mood to play; you laugh slightly before opening your mouth and taking in as much as you can. 

You stick your tongue out as you bob your head, going in a circular motion; Tommy's head falls back as he starts thrusting his hip to meet your lips.

This causes you to gag, but Tommy doesn't care as he reaches behind your head and grabs a fist full of your hair, setting the pace and holding you in place a couple of times. 

You stare up at him as he fuck your face. Wanting to mess with him, you suddenly hollow your cheeks out, causing his moments to falter. 

He taps lightly against your cheek, telling you to let go. You slowly pull back off him, making a POP noise when you finally do.

You take a deep breath before pulling him back in and allowing him to use you freely.  

Seeing that Tommy isn't going to cum anytime soon and the fact that your jaw is starting to hurt. 

You tap against Tommy's legs, telling him you need air, and he lets go of your hair, allowing you to pull back; you cough slightly as you pull back and wipe the sides of your mouth, disconnecting the string of salvia that's attached to his dick.  

He glances down at you, taking your face in his hand; he rubs away the tears that have fallen from your eyes; he bends down and starts kissing you once again, but this time, it doesn't stop.

He pushes you back down on the couch as he climbs on top of you. He kicks the rest of the clothes off before settling on top of you. He pulls you up slightly and reaches behind you to unclip your bra. You let it fall down your shoulders, and he grabs it, tossing it across the room. 

He breaks away from your lips, kissing down your neck, and he continues to your chest till he reaches your breast. He cups your right breast in his hand and closes his mouth around it. 

You reach down and pull him up by his hair off you; as much as you were enjoying all this attention to you, you just need him to fuck you. 

"Please, Tommy, no more games, please."

He doesn't respond and only pushes you down more as he spreads your legs, settling himself in between them; he rubs his dick along your slit a couple of times.

"Tommy, please, "You beg."" Please just fuck me"" 

He chuckles at your request"  "I thought you said you didn't want to fuck” 

You open your mouth to protest, but only a moan slips through your lips as Tommy enters you. He stretches you thin to a point where it's almost painful. He fills every inch of you up slowly to the point where you question if all of him is going to fit. 

Soon, he bottoms out and stills his moments to give you a second to adjust. He buries his head in your neck as he awaits your go-ahead. As soon as you feel comfortable, you nod your head. He starts moving. 

At first, he's moving slowly; it's nice, but you want more. You grab his head, pull him down to your lips, and whisper for him to go faster.

He pulls your legs around him, and you get the hit to wrap them around his waist. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you both up slightly and placing you on the floor. 

With your legs still around him, he grabs your hands and places them above your head. Slowly, he pulls out of you and then quickly starts snapping his hips into you relentlessly, 

You moan out loud as your back starts to arch off the floor; Tommy quickly pushes you back down with his other hand as he continues to pound into you. 

That feeling in the pit of your stomach starts to build up again quicker than you expected, and you start meeting Tommy's thirst halfway. 

""F-fuck Tommy, baby, I'm so close,"" you moan out, unable to think straight.

Tommy feels the way you clench around and reaches down and toy with your clit, rubbing it harshly. 

That was all you needed to send you over the edge. 

You squeeze your legs around Tommy's waist, and your toes curl as your second orgasm of the night comes crashing down. 

Tommy fuck you through you high and soon you realize when his thurst don't falter that he has yet to come, you were about to say something when he suddenly pulls out of you and flips you over on to your stomach on all four. 

He slides back in with ease and continues at the same pace as before, if not faster. 

Tommy gives your ass a couple of slaps on each cheek, then pulls you up to his chest; you fall against his chest with your head resting on his shoulder from exhaustion. 

""Tired already"" Tommy laughed. 

You were too tired to even talk back; this was too much; even though he slowed down his pace, this was all still too much. 

""Come on, sweetheart, you got one more in ya for me, don't you"" He asked as his hand came up and wrapped itself around your throat. 

Still unable to speak, all you did was nod back. 

""Good girl"" He said before picking his pace right back up and pounding into you.

You felt the need to be closer to him, so you reached around his head and grabbed onto the back of his neck, which resulted in him his reach down and playing with your clit. 

""There, you sweet girl, almost there"" he whispered in your ear.

""Now tell me again, who do you belong to?"" 

Your hips started to stutter against his, and Tommy quickly slipped an arm around your waist to keep you upright as he asked you again. 

"Who darling, who do you belong to?" 

"You, Tommy, only you." Tears fell from your eyes as you spoke.

It only took you one more thirst, and you fell apart. 

A cry slipped from your lips, and your body began to buck against his, all this becoming too much for you to handle. Tommy tried to keep you still as your orgasms came down hard. 

Tommy gave a few more sloppy thirst before he followed you with his own release and came inside you. Tommy rode his high, then slowly laid you down against the ground; he got up and grabbed a tissue, cleaned you up, then grabbed a blanket and laid down next to you, pulling you in close. 

You nestled your head on Tommy's shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace. He kissed the top of your head, pulling you closer, and together, y'all fell asleep. 

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

You woke up to Tommy calling your name; when you looked outside, the sun had just started to come up. You sat up, stretched, and looked around the room to see Tommy fully dressed and sitting at his desk, lighting a cigarette.

""Good Morning"" you said, stretching"  "What time is it"" 

Tommy pulled out his pocket watch, checking it before responding, "It's 15 till 7; you have to get up and dressed. They be here soon.""

You were confused about who would be here soon; you were about to ask when Tommy suddenly threw some clothes in your direction and got up and left. Now you really lost, first, who was coming, and second, you were confused at Tommy's behavior towards you; you thought last night was special. It felt special, but now you don't know. 

You decide to get up and put the clothes on, not wanting to be naked any second longer, and it is good that you did cause only a couple of minutes later, Tommy comes back in with a couple of coppers. 

You stand there completely clueless about what's about to happen next. 

"Don't resist; I pushed them off till this morning; John and them left last night and had to spend a night in jail"" 

""Tommy, what? ""You started to get nervous. Your chest tightened as you looked at the police officers, and it didn't help that they looked like their mother had just been killed.

"Tommy, please, what's going on?" You started to cry, not caring who was in the room.

Tommy tried to get closer to you, but you held your arm out to him, trying to keep your distance, as you continued to back up. 

Tommy took a deep breath before he spoke again,"  "You will go with these men, and I will get you out soon""

A sob left your mouth as you started to have a full-blown panic attack.

""No, no, no"" you cried out, but all Tommy did was step aside as the police officers came forward. 

You wanted to run, but where would you go? There were more of them than you, and they would catch you instantly. 

So you let them grab onto your hand and cuff you,

""You are being charged with the murder of Dr.Brown"" one of them said as they continued to tell you your rights. You didn't listen to them; you couldn't hear them as you continued to cry and scream at Tommy. 

"Fuck you, Thomas, I regret the day I ever met you; I should’ve just let you die; I should’ve never have dug you out that grave" This whole time, you didn't get a reaction from him until you said that last part. His eyes quickly darted over yours; as he watched you get dragged out of his office. 

When you got outside, you quieted down and hopped into the truck. Even though you weren't screaming anymore, you still were crying silently to yourself. 

Never in your life have you felt this kind of betrayal; in that moment in that cold, dirty truck, you promised yourself that no matter what, you would never ever lay with Thomas Shelby again or give him the time a day. 

For real, this time, you're done with him and everything that comes with him. 

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

You don't know how long you were in that truck, but it has been a while because you have stopped crying and even fell asleep when the doors finally opened. 

You squint your eyes in pain brought on by the harsh, sudden light. The same police officer you saw earlier comes in and helps you out of the truck. Together, you walk into the cells and down the hall. 

You're calm; while you were back there, you came up with a plan; you knew a lawyer, granted he was more of a trustee lawyer. (You met him when your parents passed away.)

Still, he was a lawyer who probably knew other lawyers who could help you with your case; you were, hopefully, there's no way they could pin this all on you; at best, they had you as an accessory to the crime. 

You were hopeful cause you had a plan; you were so confident in your plan that you even had a slight skip to your step. 

You were so caught up in your head that you didn't even know that they hadn't taken you to registration, and you just passed the last cell. You immediately looked over to the guard, who kept his head straight as he continued walking. 

""Where are we going?"" You asked but got no answer

""Sir, where are we going"" You asked, but this time, your voice cracked as you started to get nervous

Your questions were soon answered once you reached the end of the hall and the door was open. Inside, you saw Polly standing on a stage with a rope beside her. You looked before you, and another rope hung from the ceiling. 

You immediately start pulling away from the guard as you try to get away; he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you along with him. You threw your body around and kicked and screamed in protest. This causes another guard to come to you and grab you by your feet. Both of them carry you up the step towards the rope. 

You were crying hysterically now as they placed you right side up. They held you in place as they placed the rope around your neck and tightened it. Now unable to move, all you did was cry; you looked to your left and saw Polly muttering something; it sounded like prayers. 

Soon, a pastor came in and started citing some prayers from his book, which only made you cry harder as you remembered every single moment in your life; you swear at that moment, you even remembered when you took your first steps. 

And for some stupid reason, one memory stayed in your head out of everything you've gone through. It was the day you woke up, and Tommy was still there in your room, and you asked him why he said what he said before he died. 

You don't know why you're thinking about this in your last moments; you hate yourself for giving your last-minute thoughts to a man who literally put you on your deathbed. 

But still, you can't help but think about what he said, about when his time comes, he will just accept it because of that first time that God has spared him. 

You couldn't count the number of times you had a close call as a nurse in the war or all the times everyone around you caught the flu and died but you. You have been blessed many times and have lived to see so much. 

So maybe it's your time, maybe you should just accept it.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath; when you open them, you see your parents in the distance. They stand before you, waiting for you, smiling at you, waving toward you. 

Again, tears start to build in your eyes once more; you turn your head and see that the pastor has finished and the policeman has placed their hands on the lever, getting ready to end your life. 

You smile once more at your parents and close your eyes; you feel the tears break and fall down your cheek slowly; you take one more deep breath before saying. 

""In a bleak mid-winter"" 

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

tag list:

@naevisct@johnmurphys-sass @fannibalsrule @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts

[shiny-crocodile]

the best person i've ever met

lucy bronze x ona batlle

Summary

lucy and ona origin story; semi-slow burn, semi-quick; multi chapters that will get a little smutty

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10

CHAPTER 8

chapter summary: doctors and dress up

chapter notes: got a certain request (many many times) for something to happen again, so here you go x

smut

The next day was not what either of them particularly wanted out of their one day off together in London.

Lucy had a whole plan to visit some markets, followed by a fancy dinner but instead they were forced to spend it in a hospital waiting room with Tesco meal deals, accompanied by Peter the Barça physio.

After last nights conversations, Lucy and Ona had their first “girlfriend reveal” trial run with Peter. Lucy peered over to him after the younger girl pecked her on the lips before making her way to the vending machine for more snacks. Peter barely bat an eyelid.

As Lucy’s name was finally called after an hour of waiting, she hobbled after the doctor on her newly acquired crutches, leaving Ona behind for this solo trip to the scanners.

“Break a leg!” Ona called after her, making the older girl laugh, calming her nerves massively. You never quite got used to the overwhelming feeling of dread going in for scans.

As they expected, the news wasn’t good. Ona squeezing Lucy’s hand reassuringly as they were told Lucy would need to have surgery and that the success of the surgery would determine the length of the recovery period.

The World Cup was in 2 months and a potential Champions League final was in 1 month, an incredibly tight turnaround, which everyone in the room was hyper aware of.

After making a few phone calls, Peter returned to offer up some options for next steps.

“So where do you want the surgery?” Peter asked.

“Her knee preferably,” Ona joked, both girls cracking up but Peter staying stern faced.

“Sorry, she’s full of jokes today, what do you mean?” Lucy asked, hand stroking Ona’s leg.

“Well we have great doctors in a number of places where you can have the surgery, as long as you are back in Barcelona in one week for rehab,” Peter explained, “the UK? Spain?“

Lucy looked to Ona before answering, who nodded, the two communicating with looks alone. “Manchester?” Lucy asked, turning back to Peter.

“Sure,” he said, standing up to make more phone calls.

“Nurse Batlle, at your service. This is going to be fun!” Ona said, weirdly excited at the thought of doting on Lucy.

Lucy sighed, not sharing the excitement, but she could think of one concilation, “as long as you dress the part I won’t complain.”

////

A couple of days passed, Ona was pacing up and down the corridor after giving Lucy all the good luck kisses before she was wheeled off.

Using the hospital as her runway for heavy footed nervousness, she quickly started to annoy the hospital staff.

“Well fancy seeing you here,” Ona heard from behind her while mid-pace.

“Staniiiii,” Ona exclaimed as she threw herself into her friend’s arms.

The pair hadn’t seen as much of each other since Lucy moved from Man U to Villa, and as the person who helped Ona settle into the UK, the Spaniard was beyond thrilled to see her again.

“Did Lucy call you?” Ona asked, slightly surprised as when Ona had offered to call her mum, she said she didn’t want to be around anyone like this, so it was unusual if she was actively reaching out to friends.

“Yeah but I am under strict instructions to only be here when the surgery was happening,” Lucy said, guiding Ona back into the hospital room and into one of the chairs. “Wanted me to keep you company and stop you worrying. Clearly it was needed with you pacing the halls like a madman.”

It was definitely needed and Ona felt instantly calmer having this distraction, coupled with the warmth of knowing Lucy was thinking of her while preparing for surgery, responding, “she knows me too well.”

Time passed much faster now Ona had someone to talk to and catch up with, loving that she also had someone she could talk to about Lucy seen as though the other Lucy was the one person who knew everything about their relationship.

Lucy S couldn’t help but notice the difference in Ona from a few months ago, especially her need to mention the english right back every 5 seconds now.

“You really like her, hey?” Lucy asked. She knew how much her best friend liked the Spaniard, but she hadn’t really gotten to see the other side until now.

Ona nodded shyly, “big time. It’s honestly kind of terrifying.”

The younger girl received an understanding stroke of the arm, “of course it is. It’s always scary opening yourself up to someone. But it’s always amazing and rewarding, and honestly, I’m biased because she’s one of my favourite people but there’s truly no one better to let yourself fall for than Lucy.”

Ona couldn’t stop from grinning. Her friend always had a way with words and hearing her talk about Lucy like that was everything.

“Oh apart from my wife,” Lucy corrected, both girls breaking into laughter.

//

A couple hours later, with the surgery done and dusted, Lucy was wheeled back into the room, completely out of it and packed full of drugs.

“Stanniiiiiiiii!” Lucy slurred as she saw her best friend. “What you doing here?”

The Villa player moved over to the side of the bed, squeezing Lucy’s hand while laughing slightly at the state she was in.

“You called me you donut.”

“Oh yeah,” Lucy said, letting out a high pitched giggle that no one in the room had heard before. “You look after Ona?”

“I did, she’s all good,” her best friend said. “How are you feeling?”

Lucy was too out of it to even notice that Ona was actually in the room, who stood out of the way, chuckling away as she gave the old friends a minute.

“Gooooooood, it’s a shame we’re athletes because drugs are so good!” Lucy slurred out, earning a laugh from everyone in the room including the nurse.

Lucy was starting to drift off now to sleep, but not before dragging out, “thank you for looking after, you’re the best friend. I really love her and I love you for your matching. I love…”

Lucy was gone to the world, the surgery and the drugs making her so tired she closed her eyes and instantly started lightly snoring.

Lucy S turned round to look at a blushing Ona. “She’s not said that to you before has she?”

The younger girl could only shake her head. She knew Lucy was drugged up but she still couldn’t help having a lump in her throat at the older girl’s confession. She made her way over to the bed before placing a soft kiss on her girlfriend’s temple.

“Naw,” Lucy S said, “well I’m off before this gets even soppier.”

The Villa player spun around, grabbing her bag and cheek kissing the Spaniard goodbye.

“Blowing my own trumpet here, but you’re very good together. Look after my girl and let her know I’ll message tomorrow,” Lucy said before both girls blew a kiss to each other and parted.

The younger girl gently shifted her Lucy onto her side to stop the snoring, before sliding in behind the taller girl on the bed, taking the role of big spoon for once.

Mouth near Lucy’s ear, she whispered, “I love you too,” knowing that Lucy wouldn’t hear or even register it. She placed a kiss behind the older girl’s ear before closing her eyes to nap with her girlfriend.

////

“Oh my god? What are you wearing?”

Lucy had been discharged from the hospital and was now resting up at Ona’s. She had to be back in Barcelona tomorrow for rehab, which she was absolutely dreading, knowing the short turnaround between now and the UWCL final, and then the World Cup.

But she wouldn’t let her mind worry about that now. Not when she was faced with the stunning sight of Ona in a full nurses outfit.

“Are they blood splatters?” Lucy asked, unable to stop herself from laughing.

“Shut up, it’s from Halloween,” Ona said, strutting further into the room. “Now stop laughing, I’m trying to be sexy.”

“Oh baby you don’t need to try,” Lucy said, heart racing as she tried to compose herself, sitting more upright in the bed to fully take this in.

The white and fake blood splattered cropped top showed off her abs perfectly, while the low v was always going to be what Lucy’s eyes were drawn to, Ona’s nipples poking through the fabric.

Ona did her best sultry strut as she flicked her hips, Lucy’s eyes now fixed on her upper thighs every time the skirt flicked up, making it abundantly clear the younger girl wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

Lucy clenched the bed sheets to combat the throbbing between her legs.

“Oh Mrs Bronze, you look like you need some assistance.”

Lucy cringed, much to the confusion and offence of Ona. “My mum’s a teacher, let’s not do Mrs.”

“Ah sorry,” Ona said before getting back in the zone.

“Señorita, you look like you need some assistance,” Ona said, the lip bite from Lucy showing her she was on the right track.

The older girl was getting wet at the show being put on for her, Ona sexily throwing off her nurses cap before slowly crawling up the bed towards Lucy.

“Wait,” Lucy said as the younger girl started pulling off her shorts, “you’ve looked after me enough, let me look after you.”

“Oh cari, you’re going to do more than just look after me,” Ona said, biting her lip with a look Lucy knew all too well.

It was the look Ona gave her when she was about to do her favourite thing to Lucy. Ever since the first time she found out Lucy never did it, she’s taken so much pleasure out of achieving it every single time she tried…

Shorts discarded, Lucy laid back, giving up before the Spaniard had even started.

Ona attached her mouth to the side of Lucy’s pelvis, drawing her first moan out of the older girl as she made a mark.

Sufficiently bruised, Ona lifted her head to look at Lucy, “hey, think you’re gonna want to watch this.”

Lucy did as she was told, pushing herself up, and Ona wasn’t wrong.

The younger girl had her arse pushed into the air, skirt no longer covering her now exposed cheeks.

Ona intently watched Lucy get more soaked at the site of her.

“Now keep watching,” Ona said, before taking her first lick up Lucy’s folds, humming a moan into the older girl’s centre that only made her wetter.

The English girl could barely compute what she was watching, the Spaniard’s naked bum bouncing up and down as she devoured Lucy.

If she could, she would have grabbed handfuls of her cheeks, but instead had to settle for handfuls of hair.

She could have come at the sight alone, but her girlfriend was going to drag this out until she knew the English girl was ready to give her what she wanted.

“Please,” Lucy cried out, so loud that Ona jerked her head up in worry.

The sight of Lucy only spurred the younger girl on. The older girl’s face and chest dripping with sweat, as Ona dealt with the dripping pussy.

She knew Lucy was ready.

Two fingers were inserted at once, quickly followed by a third to get the most insane scream from Lucy.

Ona didn’t even know a noise like that was possible from her girlfriend.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna squirt,” Lucy said coming undone, Ona sucking on her clit but not removing her fingers to drink up the juices like she usually would.

“Ona?” the English girl managed to utter out, the fucking of her pussy and sucking of her clit not relenting.

“Again,” Ona growled, and like clockwork, Lucy squirted, but Ona still wasn’t lapping it up.

The Spaniard removed her fingers, drawing a moan as she spread the girl’s legs further apart, allowing herself even more room at Lucy’s pussy.

“Once more,” Ona instructed, pulling Lucy’s incredibly lips apart with her fingers to expose the girl’s sensitive clit.

“I can’t,” Lucy moaned as the cold air ran over her.

As if she hadn’t heard her, the Spaniard attached her lips to Lucy’s clit, giving it one last sharp suck as everything left in Lucy gushed out, Ona doing the lapping now, tears in her eyes at her own state of bliss.

“My girl,” Ona cooed, looking up at her destroyed girlfriend, “there is nothing I love more than that.”

“Come here,” Lucy said between breaths, leaning forward to pull Ona in by the stethoscope hanging round her neck, pulling her into a searing kiss.

Tongues exploring each other’s mouths as Lucy tasted herself.

Without needing to detach herself, Lucy used her strength to turn both girl’s onto their sides.

After days of barely moving, she clearly still had a lot of energy to use up.

The Spaniard, seeing Lucy could take even more, slipped her hand back down between Lucy’s legs, brushing over her tender entrance before easily pushing two fingers inside her.

But Lucy was determined to touch Ona now, not wanting this to be all about herself.

She mirrored Ona’s movements, drifting her hand under the nurse’s skirt where there was no barrier stopping her gliding her fingers between Ona’s folds.

Catching the Spaniard totally by surprise, both girls moaned in unison as Lucy followed in entering Ona, starting slower with just the one finger but both girls knuckles deep.

“Fuck Lucy!” Ona screamed out, struggling to focus on fucking Lucy while there were now two strong fingers pumping in and out of her, but she was nothing if not determined.

They copied everything each other did, while staring deep into each others eyes.

As Lucy curved her fingers to hit Ona’s G spot, the younger girl did the same.

As Ona brushed her thumb around Lucy’s clit, the English girl did the same.

Watching each other’s blissed out face made everything 10 times more intense, every moan 10 times deeper and their approach towards their peaks 10 times faster.

“Oh my god,” Ona moaned, feeling things she’d never felt before from the dual rush of fucking Lucy while being fucked. She was struggling to keep up the pace of her pumping while hurtling towards her own peak after being so worked up from the squirt show, “I can’t.”

“It’s ok. I’ve got you bonita,” Lucy said, more than happy to help Ona first, but neither girl was going to slow down.

“I love you,” Lucy let out, managing somehow to say it softly despite the cacophony of moans escaping both their mouths.

“I love you too,” Ona said, not quite as gently as both girls crashed through their ceilings, orgasms taking over at the exact same time.

They panted, both exhausted, with the come down accompanied by soft kisses and whimpers, before they slowly removed their hands.

Still facing each other, they both just lay there gazing at each other. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours, neither girl knew as they got completely lost in each others eyes.

“You said that in the hospital, you know?” Ona said softly, not breaking eye contact.

“Said what?”

“That you loved me,” Ona revealed, “when you were drugged up after the surgery.”

Lucy went red in the cheeks, obviously having zero recollection of that conversation. Now thinking of anything else embarrassing she might have said or done.

Ona could see the concern in her eyes, “don’t worry. It was very sweet. You are very sweet.”

The older girl leaned in to kiss her softly, eye contact breaking temporarily as they closed fluttered closed.

“Although you did say it to Stani straight after which kind of killed it slightly.”

Both girls broke into laughter, still perfectly in sync.

“Oh god, was she there? That would explain all the heart and vomit emojis she keeps sending me.”

Ona traced Lucy’s wide smile with her thumb.

“I love this smile.”

Lucy brought a hand up to do the same.

“Not as much as I love this smile, and this nose, and these eyes, and this chin,” the older girl said, brushing her digits over each part of Ona’s face as she declared her love for it.

As they went back to gazing at each other, before their staring competition was interrupted by a vibration, prompting both girls to peer over to Lucy’s phone, all lit up.

Lucy S - 🤮 💚

“It’s like she can hear us,” Ona said, turning around and pushing her back up into Lucy’s front, melting into the warmth of the girl she loved.

///

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 5

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4

So I've been having a week and I decided I needed a pick-me-up in the form of unleashing some angst on you all, so sorry to those who wanted me not to skip ahead a bit, you'll get the full story on AO3.

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

For a bit of context since I'm skipping a small part, this is the second day after the first chapter, Jason is still feeling good and having another good pit-less day.

Danny breathed a sigh of relief as he exited the W-Mart unmolested. His backpack was heavy with its load of stolen protein bars and trail mix. He’d so far not had to return to the same store twice, but this one was in the roughest neighborhood he’d visited so far and he’d felt sure even if nobody saw him steal anything that he’d be stopped. There had definitely been some suspicious looks directed towards him from the staff.

Now he just had to find a nice hidden nook to disappear from so he didn’t alert anyone. Couldn’t have people start talking about someone disappearing into thin air. Pulling his hood up he started walking along the sidewalk in a random direction eyes lowered so he hopefully wouldn’t piss anyone off by making eye contact. This did not seem like a part of the city he wanted to make eye contact with anyone in. With his rotten luck any thugs would find his face just as offensive as Dash always seemed to do.

His breath caught cold in his throat and he froze mid step. His head snapped up instantly locking on the other ghost, no the not-ghost, the man, the one with red helmet, except he wasn’t wearing a helmet now. He stood there, still like Danny in the sea of moving people, black hair except for a white streak at the front, strong jawline, his eyes were blue - wide in recognition. Shit! He had to leave!

Friend, his core sang insistently. He completed the step forward. That red T-shirt under the open leather jacket looked so soft. No stiff body armor today, just soft cotton, he could just curl up there-

Danny gasped, eyes blown wide. He shook his head, he needed, he needed to get away. Now. Now body! He wasn’t moving. He wanted, he wanted so badly to move forward, his core promised him friend and safety and connection. He just had to go to the other ghost. He was so tired of being alone, he couldn’t last like this. But he was wrong. His core was wrong. That wasn’t a ghost. That was a man, a man of flesh and bone and warmth and touch and- STOP!

His fingers gripped into his hair painfully. Good, grounding. Breathe in, two, three, out… slow and steady, he could do that.

A hand entered his field of vision.

“Hey…” the voice was soft, softer than the voice that had come out of the helmet, but Danny knew, knew in his core, this was the man, the ghost, not-ghost- the hand came closer.

He bolted.

“Hey!”

Danny didn’t look back, he just ran. He weaved between protesting people. His broken ribs hurt with every deep breath, with every jolt of his shoes hitting the pavement; a reminder that this was not a friend, just another one of the vigilantes.

Something grabbed his backpack and he came to a dead stop, hanging from the worn straps for one heart stopping second as he was pulled backwards off balance.

“Will you stop for a moment!” The voice growled.

Danny met the other’s angry eyes and for just a fraction of a second, he could have sworn they were green not blue, then his instincts kicked in and he turned intangible, sinking through his backpack straps and into the ground.

Danny shivered, holding on to himself, staying just under the pavement. Boots pounded restlessly above him as the other man paced. He could not hear the curses he was spilling, but the tone of voice came through even muffled.

This was for the best. He dared not contemplate what would happen to him should he actually get captured.

Even so he couldn’t help the mournful call of his core. A call that wouldn’t be answered.

Because that man was not a ghost.

Oo o oO

Jason paced angrily, cursing up a storm. He’d had him right there. And still he’d slipped away. Frustration crawled under his skin like bugs. He snarled and looked at the worn purple backpack in his arms. It was old, and bore the evidence of multiple more or less successful repair jobs. Parts of the fabric were singe, and there were dark stains in places that could have been from any number sources, Jason suspected blood was one of them.

The thought set off another round of pacing and cursing. It didn’t help any that he felt sure the Ghost was still close. As if he could just reach out and grab him and stop that bone chilling sadness he felt. He had been so close.

A growl of frustration rose in his chest. He stopped and took a deep breath. Anger wasn’t helping him. He had to think. There could be some identifying information in the backpack. Juggling it up into his arms he unzipped it so he could look inside.

He froze.

He had noticed it was full, but this was not what he expected to find.

Jason slammed the backpack down on the console in front of Bruce - he wasn’t sure how he got to the cave, it didn’t matter. Bruce, dressed like he’d just been sneaking some work in before having to go golfing or something similarly inane, looked from the veritable mountain of protein bars spilling out of the worn bag to Jason looming above him. He leaned back in the chair and raised an eyebrow in question, unfazed always so unfazed.

“He’s not a villain, Bruce, he needs help,” he growled, his helmet darkened his voice, but also masked the way it shook. The Ghost haunted him; hollow eyed, shaking and panicked, with clothes that hung loose on his thin frame and this, now this. Jason paced. If this was all he ate…

Bruce leaned over examining the backpack, he was frowning. Jason hated when he frowned like that: disapproval. Always disapproving, never good enough. His fists clenched.

“This belongs to the thief?”

Of course it belonged to the thief! Was he being willfully stupid? Some Worlds Greatest Detective.

“He needs help,” Jason insisted.

Bruce carefully turned the chair to face him, calculating, judging. Jason forced himself to stand still.

“It’s very possible,” Batman finally spoke, “but we can’t dismiss the idea that he’s working for someone.”

Dismissal. It felt like a slap. Why was he always like that? Why couldn’t he trust him for once? No Batman always knew best, always had to be right. Always so goddamn rightful.

“Jay-“ the voice was soft, worried.

Jason blinked, and suddenly noticed the green reflected on the inside of his helmet. In another blink it was gone, and he saw his hands gripped in Bruce’s soft creme sweater where he’d pulled him to his feet, to do what? He didn’t know. He’d just… He’d just been so angry.

“Jaylad, are you okay?” Bruce’s hands were raised in surrender, not touching, not defending.

Jason looked from Bruce’s worried face, to his hands still holding on. He gasped and let go, took a step back. No- the pits, he hadn’t even noticed they’d creeped back in. He’d lost time. He didn’t know how he’d gotten here. Had he done more than pull at Bruce? He desperately searched Bruce’s concerned face for more signs of violence.

He’s not actually worried, he’s manipulating you, the voices whispered at him. He slammed them down, but it was hard. He felt drained. He couldn’t be there, he couldn’t trust himself. He stumbled backwards, avoiding Bruce’s hands. Turning he saw his bike; at least that was one question answered, he thought hysterically.

Bruce didn’t stop him when he fled. Why would he? Disappointment, always a disappointment.

Next

Masterlist for subscription

[monstercampus]

Harpy Professor - First Meeting

(cws: slight alcohol mention, brief lewd references)

wc: 3.5k

Last night was a mess. Priam had been out all night partying with his friends, while Antón had been rage-cleaning the apartment in a frenzy in order to have everything spotless before the first day of term. The two of them you've gotten used to, of course, but their habits still tick you off when you're not in the mood to deal with them. Priam's drunken stumble back into the dorm at 4 AM didn't help either, as your vampiric roommate got into an argument with him over leaving the living room a mess. Exams have been over for weeks, and yet the two of them still find stupid things to fight about in the heat of the moment.

And you were left to endure it as best you could, your pillow clamped over your ears for half the night and your blanket pulled down over your feet by your shadow friend–who also seemed to be quite frustrated by your other tenants and their noise, trying vainly to block out the light and seal your door in his mist to try and muffle the ruckus. Either way you weren't going to sleep, not well, so now you've stepped into your first class of the new semester with bags under your eyes and half your school supplies forgotten. Just get through it today. Tomorrow will be better.

First on the roster this morning is Monster-Human Relations–a class you knew would be small, but not this small, with barely ten or so seats filled so far in the mid-sized lecture room. There's only about five rows of staggered desks on a slope anyways, with a curved, connected desk to separate the section from the front of the class and the podium. And you're a few minutes early, so you anticipate there'll be more students filing in as they wake up from their respective hangovers or hangovers-by-association, like yourself. Being an advanced class, though, it's not going to be much bigger than this. The only reason you're even taking this class was because the professor made a request for your attendance, and gave you special permissions to attend based on your unique species allocation. And lo and behold, even so, there's a face you recognize right as you walk in the door, his piercing eyes perking up as he lifts his head at the sound of your footsteps. It's Nick. Gods you are glad to see him. He peers at you through a few loose strands of dark hair, and at the sight of you a smile flashes across his face.

"Hey," He brightens up, pulling on the back of the chair beside him to offer you a seat. "Didn't know you were in this class too." He chuckles, though your look of relief doesn't seem to entertain him enough not to notice the weight of weariness you carry in your slumped shoulders. You're quick and eager to drop your bag on the table and slide into the chair, but Nick's worry stops you in your tracks. "What's up, buttercup? You look exhausted. Why aren't you in bed?"

"Roommates kept me up," You sigh, flipping open the lip of your bag to pull out your laptop. "But I'm okay. Can't miss the first class, anyways."

"Of course you can." Nicky's grin returns as you hoped it would, but it's gentler this time. "Besides, Wellwright's a big puffball. You can pretty much do whatever you want in his classes."

"I don't wanna be rude."

"You don't have a rude bone in your body." He's not flippant about it, but he does avert his eyes as he makes his comment–although it could just be because he's scribbling the date and the course number down in his thick notebook. "Wellwright's a super sweet guy, he was my mentor in Commonspeak class. He'll love you."

"You took Commonspeak?"

"Sure did." Those pearly teeth make an appearance as he chuckles, pride swelling his chest. "Barely spoke a word when I got here. Now I'm the most voracious person you probably know."

"Voracious?" You laugh, and he joins you, though as uplifting as it is it doesn't last for very long. You're grateful for it even so, your chuckling devolving as more people filter in and drawing to a close as the door to the classroom nearly slams off the hinges.

One moment of peace turns into chaos like the flip of a light switch, a pair of huge, strong wings entering the room with a scraggly, rough-looking man stumbling in alongside them. A tornado of feathers seems to cascade over the front of the room, flying off and whipping up with the breeze as those enormous wings flap and fold in an attempt to keep their host on his feet. Both you and Nick have to grab hold of your notebook and laptop respectively just so they don't fly off the table.

"My apologies!" He squawks, arms full of books and papers that also seem to be flying everywhere as he makes his way to his desk. You spare a glance over Nick's shoulder as he checks his watch, to which he taps and mouths "late" to you to elicit another giggle.

Raven Wellwright, a harpy of considerable acclaim, is definitely a name you've heard beyond the professor hastily scribbling it up on the whiteboard. Not only is he one of very, very few male harpies known to the world, but he's also very conveniently one of a handful of experts on the field of monster and human cooperation. He's penned a library of papers, articles, and books on the subject, won awards for his aid in developmental projects and awareness campaigns, and he's even been the first monster to be welcomed into a previously human-exclusive collegiate of considerable prestige. He's a rarity in all senses of the word…a rarity that's molting his feathers all over his desk, sweat gathering at his collar as his short waves of strawberry-blond locks falling haphazardly back into place while he shuffles around.

"Right!" He bellows out to the three-quarters-empty classroom, the tak tak of his papers hitting the podium echoing off the walls like glass marbles. "What was I saying?"

"You haven't started yet, professor." Nick calls out, and although it's certainly an awkward air in the room the harpy seems somewhat relieved that he hasn't already forgotten what just came out of his mouth.

"Right, thank you Nicholas. Nicholas!" He suddenly bursts into a frenzy, a smile plastered over his glowing face and his eyes sparkling with grateful familiarity. "Nicholas will be our note-taker this term, as well as your TA! Take a bow, Nick!"

Funny enough, even confident-and-cool Nick boasts a spot of shyness and a dark flush to his ears as he's encouraged to stand, turning around to wave at your fellow students who eye him up with varying degrees of interest, all while Raven claps with an eagerness to him that lasts until your friend reclaims his seat. Whispers dominate the classroom while Raven's head is turned, though it doesn't seem like they're just regarding the scatterbrained professor and his handsome assistant–especially not when he turns back and his square glasses-framed eyes land directly on you.

"Oh," That soft puff of air could just as well be a gunshot with how loud it feels to you, Raven's lithe fingers trembling slightly as he pushes his lenses higher up on his nose. For a split second, even with Nick's comforting words in the back of your brain, a tense knot of worry tightens in your stomach as you wonder whether your presence will be met with disdain.

"H-Hello! It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," And yet that concern evaporates the instant he skirts around the podium, features bright and his wings rustling excitedly as he hustles towards your desk and thrusts his hand out to yours. You barely have to hold his at all with how violently nervous his grip is, fingers clamped down so tight you can just barely feel the itch of his filed claws for nails against your skin. "Raven Wellwright, P.H.D! I'd like to welcome you to our university–it is a joy and an honour to have you here!"

With one last tight squeeze of his unusually cool hand, he pats your arm and releases you from that iron grip to scurry back to his podium. As luck would have it, all he's got prepared for today is a review of the syllabus, which soon flies by despite being peppered with occasional comments and brief anecdotes to supplement it, courtesy of a now hyper-focused prof who clearly knows what he's talking about. It's almost a little intimidating to watch him switch so quickly from anxiety to decisiveness, the nervous shakes vanishing as he briefly divulges the core topics of the material you'll be going over. It actually helps to stir you a bit from your exhaustion, though the half-smushed granola bar in the bottom of your bag also helps once he reiterates that eating in his class isn't a faux pas.

"I'm sure you're all readily familiar with the plagiarism policy and academic conduct sections as well, yes? Any questions?"

A revolution of head-nodding round the room seems to suffice, and with a quick glance at the clock by the door Wellwright rolls out his shoulders and drops his papers against the podium with a refreshed sigh.

"Well, that's good enough for me! Take an early lunch and enjoy the rest of your day, we'll start with our introductory lecture next class–oh, and could you two come to my office for a spell?" As he passes by your joint desks he gives them a tap, making eye contact with both you and Nick with a reassuring smile as the rest of the class shuffles their bookbags and lets their chair legs squeak as they get up from their seats. Your heart kicks up with a nervous thump, thump, thump, but whether Nick can smell it or hear it or is completely oblivious to it he pats your thigh under the table and nudges your shoulder playfully.

"No worries. He probably just wants to gush over you." He whispers into your ear, and with a half-smile conjured up from your dwindling pool of strength you gather your things in kind and follow alongside the werewolf as you both make your way to Wellwright's office, the path known well enough to him that he can chat your ear off the whole way there, and still make it in time to watch the professor hustle along down the corridor with his bag in tow as the two of you wait for him to unlock the door.

"Come in, come in! Take a seat–anywhere is fine–and have a snack! I've got tea…uh, somewhere! Just give me a moment.."

It's most certainly more haphazard being around him in the cramped office than it was in the lecture hall–as Wellwright hurries in and you two follow behind, Nick has to bring his hand down firmly on your head for you both to duck, just barely missing the professor's wing as it swings around and nearly collides with both of you. And with the size and strength of those muscles and that coat of healthy tawn-coloured feathers, you don't even wanna know how hard it would hurt to get smacked with one of those things.

But, oblivious to your plight, the avian totters around his office chirping up a storm while the werewolf at your side leads you–with your heads appropriately bowed under his wing line this time–to take your seats in the two plush chairs across from his spacious corner desk. Raven busies himself by the window with what looks to be a teapot on a portable burner for a minute or two, before the spout starts to whistle a familiar tune and he expertly tips it out to pour three steaming cups of fresh tea. Ginger-flavoured by the smell of it, the scent pervading your nostrils in an oddly relaxing way as he lays out each cup in front of all three of you. Curious, you watch as he takes his own seat, and notice that the arms of his chair dip towards the back for each wing to settle comfortably in the empty slots. Monster creativity truly knows no bounds, no matter how benign the design.

"-Anyways, that's quite enough about me! I'd like to know more about you." His bangs flutter over each brow as he turns to meet your eyes, not an ounce of enthusiasm missing from his gaze as he takes a sip from his cup–and proceeds to splutter and cough with a napkin pulled up to cover his mouth, mumbling in a half-lisp about burning his tongue. When you follow his lead with a giggle you make sure to at least blow on yours, and it's actually rather sweet despite the strength of the ginger threatening to overwhelm you. "I–we–are well and truly excited to have you here! I can't tell you how integral your presence will be in the pursuit of monster-human cooperation–you are sincerely a gift to this establishment, and I cannot thank you enough for taking the plunge and attending despite the odd circumstances."

Somehow–perhaps it's an effect of the tea–the mouthful of praises the professor drops are free from his usual stutters and vocal stumbling, as if the topic of you is yet another subject he can't help but be eloquently passionate about. You, on the other hand? You're not even sure what to say to that...such high praise feels uncalled for, not that it's unpleasant in nature, but that it should be reserved for someone that's actually done something to deserve it. All you really did was go with the flow and refrain from kicking up a fuss.

"I, uh…th-thank you, professor, but I really didn't do much…" You shrug shyly, suddenly wishing you could disappear from the awkwardness and hide inside Nick's jacket for comfort. But the silent moment passes not in a hollow, nerve-wracking way, because it's filled by Raven's easy smile growing into something a little more intimate, his feathers settling to lay flat as he reaches over the desk and gently clasps both hands over yours.

"You took a risk, my dear. Unsure of what lies on the horizon, you chose a path seldom travelled yet long overdue for progress. That in itself is worth a world of praise."

You knew he could be eloquent, but that…that was poetry. And could that warmth tipping his pointed ears be a blush, coincidental with how his fingers retract from touching you? Worried his touches may come off as something more the longer they linger? Or are you simply reading into things?

"Maybe I should go," Nick teases, and that thankfully eases the tension enough for you to snap back into the reality at hand–and for Raven's feathers to ruffle in embarrassment as he leans away from you just to bump his head painfully on his overhanging lamp.

"Sweet Chaos–ah, I'm fine, I'm fine!" He waves away your worry while Nick erupts into a cheeky laugh beside you, the professor's unyielding clumsiness proving too much for him to keep it all sealed in. Especially hearing a string of curses fly from such a sweet, kind-hearted man's mouth, who wouldn't hurt a beetle even if it bit him. "Before I injure myself further, perhaps I should just get to the point." He sighs with a palm pressed to the back of his head, rubbing the soreness off the fortunately very minor bump there.

"It's the MHC thing, right?" Nick pipes up, sobered from the giggle fit but still grinning from ear to ear.

"Just so." Raven nods, those cotton candy-pink eyes shifting back to you. "My dear, I have a favour to ask of you. Would you consider being a human ambassador on my behalf?"

"...Ambassador? As in..?"

"Oh, i-it's nothing too taxing! Allow me to explain: being an ambassador simply means you would be willing to speak as an individual of your species for MHC conferences. It would really just involve me calling on your opinion and presenting it to the Monster-Human Commission–most of it will just be in writing, no more than a sentence or few."

"You mean 'sentence or two', professor." Nick cuts in, leaning back in his chair like he owns the place. If you weren't mistaken, you could swear there's a glint of something fierce in the harpy's eyes as his gaze flits over to his protégé–but it's there and gone in a moment, and you try not to let the thought linger for fear of how it might make you wonder.

"Goodness! Surpassing your mentor already, eh? Maybe you should be the one teaching commonspeak, Mr. Wolf." He soon returns to the comfort of your gaze on him. "By no means is it a necessity, but it would be of brilliant use to my colleagues in the commission. Take some time to think about it, okay? There's no rush. You can start and stop whenever you please."

"I, uh…yes, thank you, professor. I'll give it some thought." Wellwright nods with a happy grin, and allows you to finish the rest of your tea with a few occasional spurts of scatterbrained conversation peppered in between. He's so courteous and well-spoken, gentle and kind…there's no wonder you've heard giggling from the harpy girls on campus when he's brought up, his dreaminess a total diamond in the rough for any self-respecting monster. An absolute gem. A-

"Hey, professor, I can't quite remember–are we reviewing interbreeding this term?"

As if burning his tongue and bumping his head wasn't enough, Wellwright balks at Nick's unforeseen question and nearly chokes on the dregs of his tea, the liquid splattering his chin with a cough that he's quick to wipe with the back of his hand. If it crossed your mind in time, and if you weren't so tired, you'd have half a mind to give Nick a pinch under the desk for torturing the poor man.

"C-Cross-species mating? Uh, ye…yes, we are.."

"Mmh. Gotcha. We've got a human this year, so maybe we can do our independent study on it? That'd be pretty helpful for your research, huh?"

What hits you right away is that he doesn't say no. Not that it's not his first reaction, but that the word doesn't even cross his lips. The slightest twinge of his brow has the harpy narrowing his eyes at the werewolf, and for a brief spell you think the professor might be humouring the exact same reaction as you were.

"Th-That would depend on the human's decision, Nick–and that is certainly not the full extent of my research, I might add!"

"Y-You, um…you study interbreeding, Dr. Wellwright?"

Your query flits out like the most timid of butterflies, curious and interested in equal measure. It must be so easy for both of them to pick up, but you can't really help it–the idea of such a sweet professor pursuing such a lewd scholarly topic is…fascinating, to say the least.

"He does. In great detail." Nick leans over to whisper into your ear, and the air in the room seems to change as Raven squirms anxiously in his seat.

"I-It's a necessary component of my research…" He mumbles, suddenly unable to meet your eyes as the heat in his face stretches to reach the tips of his pointed ears.

"So necessary." Nick adds with a shit-eating grin.

"Nicholas!” Raven finally huffs, brow furrowed and eyes dimmed of their sparkle. Oh, now he's mad. And yet, with a glance over at your companion, Nick couldn't look more enthused about the prospect. They certainly seem to be on familiar terms with how much teasing your friend knows he can get away with. Ripples start to part Wellwright's feathers like shudders, and almost under his breath, he quietly asks if you would give him a moment with his T.A–and you have never been more quick to oblige, setting down your teacup at an earnest pace before your bag is slung over your shoulder and you're soon closing the office door firmly behind you. The click of the lock echoes in the otherwise empty corridor, and though you'd like to wait for Nick out of courtesy, the hushed whispering that ensues followed by the flap of your professor's wings clues you in that perhaps it would be better to give them some…privacy.

Although, at the very least your phone buzzes before you've even left the wing, a glance down at the messages revealing that Nick's gonna be tied up for awhile, but he's alright. His words echo in your head, “Wellwright's just a big puffball”, and it loosens a pleasant sigh from your throat as you let your shoulders relax. The last thing you want is to get anyone in trouble, which you seem to do quite easily by your very nature of being human.

This class may end up being a different story though, if your professor's…enthusiasm towards the human race is anything to go by.

[capnmachete]

Johnny Davis x plus-size fem!OC (Period piece -- mid-1960s, Bikeriders universe but canon-divergent)

PART 9: Please Mr. Postman Long distance and long-haul trucking make a brand-new romance a little complicated. Two-for-one today; should have Part 10 up later tonight or first thing tomorrow.

By-request tags: @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler; @zablife; @lou1333; @potter-solomons, @hoodeddreams13 Thanks you guys for reading and for your wonderful comments! If anybody else wants to be tagged, just LMK.

(Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6/Part 7/Part 8)

Part 9: Please Mr. Postman

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  That’s where the first postcard comes from; it's got a picture of the Liberty Bell on it.

The mailman comes around midmorning; you're usually still asleep after workin' all night.  But you’re off on Tuesdays, and Momma’s got her weekly hair appointment.  So today you’re the first one to see the mail.

You don't see it at first; it's stuck between the electric bill and Daddy’s Reader’s Digest and mixed in with the coupons for Ivory Soap and Crisco.  And when you do see it, you figure it just got delivered to the wrong house. Mr. Meadows -- he's the mailman -- is gettin’ up in years. It ain't the first the first time he’s mixed up the mail. 

You don’t flip it over to find out which house it was supposed to go to, until you’re halfway back to the front porch. 

And there it is, big as day:  Miss Corinna Albright, 210 Lucas Avenue, Granger Iowa, written in careful print.  And on the other half:  J.D. XOXO in slanty left-handed cursive.  Which leaves you standin’ in the middle of the sidewalk, grinnin’ like a fool, butterflies havin’ a riot in your stomach.  And real glad Momma didn’t get the mail first, otherwise you’d be gettin’ interrogated right now. “He sure don’t say much,” Gus remarks the next day, lookin’ over your shoulder; you're showin' Sharlette the postcard while you clock out and she clocks in.  “Quit snoopin’,” you tell him, and poke him with your elbow.  You ain't bothered.  Johnny's the quiet type; don't talk much, so it stands to reason he don't write much either.

“So what? Lookit them X’s and O’s,” Sharlette points out, wavin' Gus away.  She turns the card over again, looks at the picture and the postmark.  "Dang.  Man's only been gone three days, maybe four.  You sure all you did was kiss him?” she asks you, eyes narrowed.

“Sharlette!” you squawk, and smack her shoulder. You ain't really offended, though, on account of that's just how Sharlette is. Likes to tease and get a rise out of people. 

She hands it back with a grin.  “I’m kiddin’.  But don’t go runnin’ oft and elopin’ just yet; I ain’t up to workin’ doubles every day until Gus hires somebody else,” she teases. 

“Don't get ahead of yourself; we ain’t even gone on a real date yet,” you grumble, pretendin’ to be annoyed.  Even though you ain’t really.  And Sharlette knows it.  She sees the tiny smile you can’t quite squash under pretend-aggravated, and smiles back, reachin' into the cooler for the milk.

--- The next postcard comes a few days after that – St. Louis, Missouri, with a picture of the Arch.  And another one early the next week.  Arkansas this time. No photo on this one, just says Arkansas in big, bright cartoon-looking letters. Maybe there ain't anything noteworthy enough in Arkansas to put on a postcard.

It don’t really matter what’s on the front anyways; it’s the J.D. XOXO on the back of each one that lights you up like a dang Christmas tree, every time.  They might just be postcards, and not fancy love letters, but each one makes you feel like a princess all over again. 

By the end of two weeks you’ve got a little collection goin’ – the three you already got, and another one from Memphis, with Graceland on it.  All four are stuck in the frame around the dresser mirror in your bedroom.  Every time you go to fix your hair or put on a little mascara, there they are – proof that Johnny Davis is out there thinkin’ about you while he’s on the road.  And it purely makes your day.

“That man’s sweet on you,” Sharlette tells you with a confident nod, lookin’ at the latest postcard.  “There ain’t no mistakin’ it.”

“Where’s all these postcards comin’ from?” Momma asks, when the inevitable finally happens and she beats you to the mailbox.  “And who’s J.D.?”

“Just a pen pal!” you lie, brightly, hopin’ it sounds convincing.  “I joined a club; there was an ad in the back of the Life Magazine last month.”  And you slide the card out of her hand.  And manage to keep yourself from snatchin’ it away fast enough to make her suspicious.

“Sure is friendly,” she comments, eyes narrowed.  Has seen the Xs and Os too.  Dangit. 

“Well, you know, folks in different places have different ways!  And some folks are just naturally more affectionate than others!”  you chirp, and hustle back to your room before your pink face can give you away.  Once you’re behind the closed door, you flop back on your bed, huffin’ a relieved sigh.  And spend the next few minutes admirin’ that postcard and daydreamin’, with a sappy smile on your face.

It ain’t that you especially like lyin’ to Momma.  And you ain’t ashamed of Johnny, or embarrassed about havin’ a new maybe-boyfriend.  Or gettin’ kissed into a floaty, muddleheaded daze right outside your own work.  But Momma’s set in her ways, and nosy.  And  got a lot of opinions and questions, most of which you don’t particularly want to hear, or have to answer. 

She’d have a fit, too, if she knew you were plannin’ to go on a date with a trucker.  A divorced trucker, at that.  According to Momma you can’t trust a divorced man.  Or truckers either.  She’s convinced every last one is a skirt chaser and a two timer, with wives and girlfriends scattered all over the map. 

And Daddy?  Well, holy moly, let’s don’t even bring Daddy into it.  He’s real protective and old fashioned. And just as quiet as Johnny but not half as easygoin'.  Has already scared off three or four fellas that wanted to take you out.  Just your luck that Smooth Melvin, of all people, is the only one Daddy approves of so far.  And that’s only because Daddy and Melvin Senior work together at the mill.  The two of ‘em spend nearly every Saturday evenin' sittin’ in the garage, drinkin’ beer and gruntin’ at each other, while Momma watches her shows inside.

So it’s a whole lot simpler to just keep everything under your hat for now.  You're grown, after all, and what Momma and Daddy don’t know won’t hurt ‘em.  Besides, you ain’t even officially had your first date yet, so there ain’t really anything to talk about.  (At least that’s what you tell yourself, because it makes you feel a little less guilty about keepin’ secrets.)

---

As nice as the post cards are, and as bubbly and happy as you get when one shows up in the mail, the phone calls are even better.  There’s only been two so far; they ain’t easy to manage on account of Johnny’s on the road so much.  The timin’ gets complicated, and long-distance calls from a payphone get real expensive real quick. And you don’t have much privacy, either, thanks to Momma at home and a certain unnamed nosy fry cook at work.  Somebody’s always around.  Johnny don’t have any privacy either, really – on the road for two weeks solid at a time, sleepin’ in the truck and callin’ from payphones here and there. Still –  you do get to talk a little bit, and you make the best of it.  The first time’s on your night off, real late, after Momma and Daddy have gone to bed.  You’ve got the curly cord on the wall phone in the hallway stretched about as far as it’ll go, down the hall and through the crack under your closed bedroom door. 

Which means you gotta sit on the floor next to the door while you talk.  Stretch that cord any further and you risk pullin’ the phone clean off the wall and makin’ a commotion.  And if you wake Momma up, then that’ll be the end of the conversation for the night.

“I like the postcards,” you tell him, keepin’ your voice down, twistin’ the cord around your finger like a lock of hair. "I wasn't expectin' that."

“Yeah?” he says back, and you can hear the smile in his voice.  Imagine the way his eyes are crinklin' at the corners.  “I know it ain’t the same as travelin’, and seein’ all those places for real, but it’s somethin’.”  There’s a little pause, and you hear a sound you recognize already – the bright metal clink of Johnny’s lighter, and a sharp injale.  “Besides, I hadda make sure you don't forget about me while I’m gone.” Not a snowball’s chance in hell you’re gonna forget about Johnny Davis.  “It just so happens I got a very good memory,” you tell him instead, grinning to yourself.  “But a little reminder never hurts.” You stay on the phone as long as you can, until you’re gettin’ sleepy and Johnny’s about to run out of dimes.  And talk about anythin’ and everythin’.  You tell him about all the latest gossip and goin’s on in LaGrange.  He talks a little about the girls, and about what his life in Deerfield is like when he’s home, which is hardly never.  And his bike.  Which has a name, you find out. “Louise?”  you ask him, surprised, laughin’ as quiet as you can manage.  “Why Louise?”

“Hell, I dunno, really,” he tells you back.  “It ain’t named after anybody or anything like that.  Just kinda looked like a Louise to me, I guess.” 

And you flirt, although not too much, what with Johnny on a payphone in a truck stop, and Daddy sawin’ logs down the hall loud enough to rattle the windows.  And you sittin’ on the linoleum floor next to your bedroom door,  because that’s as far as the phone cord will go.  You have to put the receiver down for a minute and get up and move around, because your butt’s fallin’ asleep. "Gonna have to get you a phone for your room," Johnny tells you, when you pick up again and explain. "Or a longer cord, at least. So's you can be comfortable while we talk. Can't have you sittin' on the floor gettin' all cramped up and uncomfortable."

The truth is you'd sit on a damn cactus if that's what it takes to talk to Johnny, hear that low, slow voice, remember the way his warm breath tickled your ear. "You're bein' awful thoughtful," you tell him instead. "Keep it up and I might just have to kiss you again next time I see ya," you say, and laugh. "Yeah? I guess I better hurry up and get back there, then," he says, and laughs, that warm cigarette-raspy chuckle.  It’s the nicest sound you’ve heard all dang day.  Only thing better is hearin' him call you sweetheart a few minutes later, when he says good night. You hang up and go to bed all warm and tingly, thinkin' about future kisses.

---

The next time he calls, it’s at the diner.  On a slow night, thank heavens, so you can actually stand still and talk for a minute.  You scuttle back to the tiny office, to the phone on the wall just outside the door, and snatch up the receiver Gus has left danglin’.  “You still up for goin’ on that date?” Johnny asks you, as soon as you pick up. 

You say yes so fast you nearly trip over your own tongue; it comes out in an almost-shout.  Loud enough to make Gus turn plumb around at the grill, and give you a funny look. 

“Well – I got a little time off comin’ up end of next week,” Johnny tells you.  “Cut a deal with my dispatcher to switch some things around, and got a coupla days off in a row.”  It’s enough time, he explains, to swing by for a quick visit with his girls in South Bend, then stop off at home for a night.  And then come to LaGrange. You're about tickled enough to jump up and down. And surprised -- you didn't expect this to happen so quick, but you sure aren't complainin'. "Really? What day?” you ask him, eager. 

"The 20th," he tells you.  "If I get an early jump and make good time, I can drop the load off and be in LaGrange before dark.  You free that night? Lemme take ya out someplace nice. Stay out as late as you want; I won't hafta run off so quick this time.” 

You peek inside the office door at the calendar on the wall. And then gasp. *The 20th?  September 20th?”  you ask Johnny, excited.  The timin' couldn't be more perfect! “The Webster County Fair’s goin’ on that weekend, over in Fort Dodge!” you tell him.  “It ain’t but maybe twenty, thirty minutes from here!” 

The county fair’s just about the most excitin’ thing that happens around here – bright lights and music, ferris wheels and funnel cakes.  It’s near about perfect for a first date. 

Johnny thinks so too. “Yeah?  Well alright then; that's what we'll do,” he tells you.  “You be good, Miss Corinna. Can’t wait to see ya.”

And you hang up floatin’ on air, stomach full of butterflies again.  And do a little two-second-long happy dance that earns you another sideways look from Gus.  You start right in on him, about needin’ the night of the 20th off, puttin’ on your best pretty-please and battin’ your eyelashes.

Gus grumps and crabs about it right off the bat.  You're not surprised, since there ain’t much Gus don’t grump and crab about.

But you ain’t worried. You got a whole week to convince him, or get one of the other girls to switch off. And you will do whatever it takes, move heaven and earth if you have to. Because there is no way you're gonna miss out on a date with Johnny Davis. ___ Song inspo: Please Mr. Postman, The Marvelettes (1961)

[baby-stay92]

Love At First Sight - Part 3

Pairing: Idol!Han x Fem!Reader

Fluff

Warnings: None

WD.: 1.166

Credit: baby-stay92

~~~~~~~~

@adestayskz

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4

~~~~~~~~~

It had been a week since Han and yours date and due to the both of you having busy schedules, you had only been able to text and call each other. But today was Sunday and Han was currently getting ready to go meet up with you for a late lunch date. Han had barely been able to sleep due to how excited he was to finally see you again. He put on his favourite ripped jeans, a simple black t-shirt with some text on it, he added some rings and a bracelet to complete the look he put on some black boots. Once he had checked that he had everything he needed in his pockets, he left the dorms and made his way downtown to meet up with you. Once he arrived at the coffee stand that you had suggested, he looked for you but soon realised that he was the first to arrive. He didn’t wait long before he saw you walking towards him from down the street. The sight of you made butterflies go crazy in his stomach and a smile came across his face. The butterflies didn’t settle down as he took in your outfit for the day. You were wearing black midthigh shorts, a deep purple cropped tank top (that showed a bit of cleavage), knee high socks and mid-calf boots. To top the outfit off you had put your hair in a high messy ponytail. Once you’re in front of him, he pulls you in for a hug, which you gladly reciprocate. He gets a whiff of your perfume, you smell of honey and sakura and Han has to hold back from taking another sniff.

“Have you been waiting long?” you ask and kiss his cheek before pulling away from the hug.

“No, not at all” Han smiles and feels himself blushing from the kiss. “Wanna order?” He adds and points to the coffee stand.

“Yes please, but this time, it’s my treat” You smile and walk over to get in line. You both wait until it’s your turn to order, you quickly order and continue the small talk as you wait. Once you’ve received and paid for the coffee, you start walking side by side down the street.

“So where are we going today?” Han asks and takes another sip of his coffee.

“Well I need to get some shopping done and i was wondering if you’d wanna join me - If not we can find something else to do!” You ramble so much that you didn’t realise that Han had moved to stand in front of you and you had both stopped walking.

“Listen, love, I’d love to go shopping with you” Han smiles and kisses your forehead, his cheeks showing some pink colour. You blush yourself as you feel his lips against your skin.

“Awesome” You smile and start walking again. You soon arrive at a makeup store where Han grabs a basket which he carries around for you as you browse the many shelves. You grab some foundation, a mascara and an eyeshadow pallet before making your way to the perfume area. You browse around and finally narrow the options down to two options which you spray on each of your wrists before holding one wrist at time for Han to smell them.

“Which one?” you ask as he smells both options a few times. You can’t help but smile as his brows knit together as he focuses, trying to decide.

“The one on your left wrist” He finally says with a nod. You smile at him and grab a sealed box of the perfume that he picked. You walked to the register and Han set the basket down for the cashier to start scanning.

“Oh could you go grab a black nail polish for me?” Han asks and you nod before skipping off. Once you’re far enough away Han explains to the cashier that he just wanted you gone so he could surprise you by paying for your things. The cashier smiles and lets him pay before handing him the bag with your things. Once you return with the nail polish, Han takes it, hands it to the cashier before taking your hand and leads you out of the store.

“Han?! You didn’t just pay for my things, did you?” You gasp, walking with him, feeling happiness bloom in your stomach, feeling his hand in yours.

“I sure did” He smiles down at you. “Now where to next?” He adds and you get on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before saying thanks.

“Well… I do need some new… uhm clothes” You say, looking down at your feet.

“What kind of clothes?” Han asks, trying to fight the thought that’s creeping in his head.

“Uhm, the private kind” You mumble and start walking towards a lingerie store. “You totally don’t have to come in with me” You say as you approach the doors of the shop.

“Oh love, I wouldn’t miss this for the world” He says and bites his lip, opening the door for you. You slip past him and enter the store. Once inside you walk straight up to the cashier who greets you with a smile.

“Hi, I ordered some things online and I’ve received a text saying it has arrived for me to pick up” You explain to the lady behind the counter.

“Name?” She asks with a smile.

“L/N Y/N” You smile in return, making the lady nod and leave for the backroom.

“You ordered things online instead of buying it at the store?” Han asks, tilting his head.

“Yeah… I find it awkward browsing lingerie at a store, so I sit in the comfort of my own home” You giggle as you add the last part and the cashier returns with a fairly sized package. She gives it to you and asks for your signature on the slip that states that the package has been picked up. You sign it and thank her before leaving the store, Han following you.

“I’m not gonna lie” He smiles as you both exit the store. “I was kinda hoping for you to be trying on stuff in there.” Han chuckles and blush hard.

“Is that so?” You blush and look up at him biting your lip. “Well maybe if you play your cards right, you’ll get to see what I got at some point.” You giggle looking down at the package in your hands. Suddenly you Hans hand under your chin which he tilts up to look at him. Before you can say anything he presses his lips against yours in a loving and emotional kiss. Even though you’re taken by surprise, you quickly kiss him back, mirroring the love and emotions. Once Han pulls away from your lips, much to your displeasement, you smile softly up at him.

“Do you maybe wanna head back to my apartment? We can order dinner and watch movies” You suggest, biting your bottom lip.

<- Prev | Next ->

[its-time-to-write]

i hold it like a grudge - ch. 4

in case you didn’t know, i LOVE childhood friends-to-lovers. especially with Jamie.

table of contents not quite sure i’m there yet

If you breathe a little easier with the knowledge that Jamie’s gone, that is a secret between you and the universe. Keeley is more or less a fixture in your life, and she takes over your PR and socials. You talk about buying a house, but decide you like your flat. She drags you to Richmond games, but it only takes one for you to decide that you love it. Man City is still your team despite the fact that you still can’t wear their kits, but blue and red is decidedly easier to put on now that you only associate it with Keeley.

Time slips away quickly, and before you know it, the football season has both ended and started again. Keeley’s going to meet you at your flat to go to match week 3, so you close up shop early and head home to get ready.

You’re in the kitchen eating an apple when Keeley comes barreling in, breathless.

“Jamie’s back,” she wheezes.

You freeze, mid-bite. 

“Okay?” you respond.

“Just don’t want you to be fucking blindsided!” Keeley says.

You laugh. “Keels, everything his does is a blindside. I just don’t care anymore.”

“Alright, but if you see him skulking around, just remember I told you,” she warns.

You throw away your apple core. “Thank you for letting me know, but I truly do not give a shit. You ready to go?”

—

You’re not sure skulking is the word you’d use for what Jamie’s doing.

Because yes, Keeley was right to warn you, he did turn up. 

Technically, you haven’t spoken to him since the phone call where he informed you of your breakup. Even when he told you he was going to Manchester, you said one single word to him (which you don’t even count).

You can’t kick him out because he’s not doing anything. He shows up, purchases a dangly earring, and then doesn’t fucking leave. He just stands there and fucking talks.

The first thing out of his mouth besides “Can I look at those?” is a goddamn apology that is what, two years too late?

It’s heartfelt, it’s sincere, it’s not worth anything at all to you.

“Okay,” you say once he’s done. “Will that be all for you today?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, says, “No,” then launches into a story about Georgie and how she misses you and how Simon says if you tell them you’re visiting, he’ll make sure to bake all your favorites.

You don’t give him the courtesy of your visible attention, but you’re listening all the same. 

You have been keeping up with them, it’d be strange not to, but you haven’t physically seen either of them since you left. You send Georgie custom pieces every month, and something special for mother’s day. She calls with stories about your mum, and doesn’t expect you to respond, just lets you cry through the phone.

“I uh, visited your mum,” he says.

You whip back around, eyes wide but still refusing to speak.

He holds his hands up. “It were on the anniversary. Just went to put flowers down.”

You breathe in deep through your nose. You refuse to respond.

Jamie nods once, taps the counter and leaves.

—

He’s back the next day, but you’re with customers. They’re incredibly picky and for once, you’re happy to bring out every type of metal and font you have.

It takes a grand total of 45 minutes, but he stays and browses. It’s a small shop so there’s not much to look at. Jamie persists.

You wave them out the door then grab a broom to sweep the leaves they’ve tracked in.

Jamie takes a cue, (certainly not your cue) and starts talking again. This time it’s about Lust Conquers All. He rambles on for a few minutes about TV production and how everything was scripted before he says something that really catches your attention.

“So basically, I went on to piss of me dad. And it fucking worked, but then he texted me all this shit how I’m- well, not gonna say what he said. You know what he’s like,” he finishes.

You almost snap the broom handle. “Why the fuck does your dad have your number?” you ask before you can remember your ‘no talking to Jamie’ policy.

Jamie looks away. “Dunno.”

“Oh so he just found it somewhere and when he texted you you didn’t think to either block him or get a new phone with your millions of pounds?” 

Jamie shrugs. He’s still not looking at you but he says, “He’s my dad.”

A muscle in your arm twitches. You want to reach out to touch him, but you won’t. You’ve just crossed the talking boundary, and you still haven’t accepted his apology.

You sigh. “Do you even want me to argue this with you?”

“No one else fucking will,” Jamie says softly.

“Fine,” you say. “He’s a piece of shit. Blood means nothing. Find a better father figure.”

The corner of his mouth turns up at that. “Yeah. Might actually try that.”

He buys a gold band with a “J” stamped on it and leaves.

—

Jamie returns the next day a little more dejected than usual.

“If you’re going to be here, you can sit behind the counter. Don’t need you in the way if people are trying to buy,” you tell him as soon as he walks in.

He sits quietly for a whole hour, barely even shaking his leg. You sell enough for groceries for the next month, then check online sales. Jamie hasn’t spoken and you’re not going to initiate it.

“Yes,” you softly exclaim.

Jamie perks up at that. “Good news?”

“Uh huh,” you smile. “I could close this place for two years and live completely off my savings if I have to. I just got an order from America that’s going to get so much publicity.”

He nods. “Good for you,” he says. He means it, you can tell, but he’s still sad.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You cock your head at him.

“I really am,” he continues. “It were a shitty thing to do. I should’ve at least- paid for your uni, or your flat, or some shit. I dunno.”

“It wasn’t about the money,” you reply calmly. “Fuck off with that shit. It was the fact that we made all these plans and then not only did you leave me without a warning, but you cheated on me instead of breaking up with me yourself. I used to give a shit why you did it, but I don’t anymore. I was mad because you handled it like a fucking child.”

Your tone of voice is chilling. It’s flat and clinical, without even a trace of discernible anger.

“It wasn’t because of you,” he says.

“Obviously it was a little bit because of me,” you retort.

“It wasn’t,” he insists. “I did it because I was fuckin’ stupid. I was fucking drunk and her picture’s been on my wall since I were thirteen, and the lads were egging me on.”

“Uh huh,” you say, unconvinced.

“Fine,” Jamie says. “Fine. My PR lad told me it’d be great for me brand and I thought fuck it, who gives a shit? I dunno.”

You nod. “Great. Now go fuck off. Find somewhere to go and someone else who will listen to your sob story because I sure as shit don’t care. I’m about to take lunch, so I have to lock up.”

“I did fuck off,” Jamie grits out. “Listened to you about father figures, went back to Ted and begged for a spot at Richmond. He said fucking no, so I don’t have shit to fuck off to.”

You pause, considering him for a moment before saying. “Nope, still don’t give a shit. Goodbye Jamie. I’m on break, so no customers in the shop.”

As you head to lunch, you hope he doesn’t remember you well enough to catch you lying.

—

“I don’t have time for this, Jamie,” you say as you hastily wrap up a package. “Don’t know if you can tell, but I’m swamped right now.”

“I can help,” he offers, and you have too many people at once to tell him no. 

As you weave around each other, talking to customers and wrapping up pre-made pieces, you’re reminded of the time he got out of training to come bag groceries at your cashier job. Took your manager an hour to notice, and even then he didn’t care enough to kick Jamie out.

You finally say goodbye to your last customer and flip the sign to closed. It’s dark outside and pouring rain. 

“Shit,” you say. “I left my umbrella at home.”

“You’re not walking home in that,” Jamie says disbelievingly.

“Well, I’m not sleeping here,” you reply.

Jamie squints at you. “I’m driving you. Car’s around the corner. I’ll go get it.” He points at you and says, “Don’t go anywhere.”

He’s gone before you can protest and if you’re honest with yourself, you can stand a few minutes with Jamie if it means not getting drenched. On the other side, now he’ll know where you live. 

The ride is silent. He’s playing fucking Islands in the Stream, and you’re pissed off because you know for a fact it’s from your old playlist. He pulls into your driveway and you say a clipped, “Thanks.”

“Oi.”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. 

Jamie asks, “You gonna be alright?”

“Yes,” you say. “Goodnight.”

“Mum will be awake all night,” he says. “She said you can call her, even if you don’t want to talk.”

You still. 

“You sure you’re alright?” he repeats softly.

It’s hard to respond when you’re choked up.

Here’s the thing about rain; your mum loved it. 

She used to open up the kitchen windows whenever it was coming on so the clean smell could fill the whole house. She would splash in puddles with you and Jamie when you two were in primary school while Georgie laughed from the porch. 

One of your favorite memories was at Georgie and Simon’s wedding. Jamie had started to make more money, already been playing football for a while. You were both eighteen and unaware of the fact that he had a Man City contract in the near future, nor that you had less than ten months left with your mum.

He’d paid for a private garden venue, just the five of you, with your mum practically swimming in her bridesmaid dress.

“I don’t get it,” you had fretted. “It fit last month.”

She patted your cheek and said, “Don’t worry about it, darling.”

You should have worried about it.

But as it was, it started raining during the reception and your mum had grabbed Georgie’s hand as they swung around, splashing in the grass.

Jamie had taken your hand and twirled you, but the thing you remember the most was the smile on your mum’s face. It was so bright, so happy and in hindsight, it made you wonder if she knew how fast the clock was ticking. Less than a year was far less than the six the doctors had all-but promised.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of her passing. You’ve never been able to call it death, because it just seems wrong, somehow. Or maybe saying it will make it more real. It’s been years, yes, but you know you’ll carry your grief with you everywhere you go. You hold it, cradle it in both hands close to your chest, afraid of what will happen if you try to let go.

So no, you’re not alright. And you’re especially less alright with the fact that apparently Jamie remembers things about your relationship and your life and maybe he didn’t just purge his brain of his first twenty years on earth like you tried to.

He says, “Let’s go inside,” but you only kind of hear him over the rush in your ears.

Drowning. 

I can do this, you think automatically as you hand Jamie your house key.

I can do this.

table of contents

[zablife]

Tachipen (Part 5)

Summary: With the flip of a coin, Tommy makes a deal to bring a young gypsy girl into the Shelby clan. Considering her too young to marry, he takes pity on her and employs her as a nanny for John’s children instead. The arrangement soon sours when Tommy believes his horse has been cursed and demands her help stealing from the Lees. When she seeks solace in John’s company, an innocent romance blossoms, but a war with the Lees and Polly’s poorly-timed advice drive them apart in a way that will change their history forever. As the scenes from the present reveal, Y/n must watch the Shelby men go on to love others while she is shut out. However, the events of one tragic afternoon could change everything.

Author’s Note: After a 5 month hiatus, this story is back! I'll be updating more regularly now that I've outlined more of the fic. The story is told through flashbacks, but I will note the year. Tommy meets y/n in 1919 and the story goes thru present time which is the year of the vendetta, 1925. 

Warnings: language, ethnic slur, implied smut, mention of pregnancy, mention of arranged marriage

Part 4

1924

The frosted glass shook as Polly forcefully closed John’s office door, her eyes darting from you to her nephew. “What is this I hear about the two of you sniping at one another like bloody children?”

You and John both started speaking at once and Polly shouted over you to assert authority. “That’s enough! John, perhaps you could explain why you’re even in the office today?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Y/n is perfectly capable of supervising the other girls.”

John opened and closed his mouth a few times in shock, giving the appearance of a fish out of water before you interjected. “He’s been hovering over me for weeks, Pol. Won’t let me finish one fucking job without trying to find a mistake!”

John pointed a finger in your direction as he retorted, “If she could keep her mind on her work instead of her love life for a change--”

“Would you stop?!" you screamed, interrupting him mid-sentence. You felt the emotion welling in your chest and did your best to keep from crying. Running a shaky hand through your hair, you took a deep breath to regain control before continuing your plea to Polly. "I did as I was told. I broke up with Angel and I apologized…” you stopped before you broke down, then continued with the part that stung most, “for the inconvenience.” Those had been the words Arthur insisted you use. He’d probably consulted Linda about it at the first sign of trouble, you thought bitterly. 

Polly softened at your show of emotion, reaching across the table for your hand. “Alright, I think I understand. John, would you leave us, please?” John nodded with clenched jaw, pushing out of his chair with more force than necessary. He looked back at you as he crossed to the door and you swore you saw a brief shadow of remorse cross his handsome features though you couldn’t be sure with the lingering tension between you.

When you were finally alone, Polly began, “Y/n, I’m sorry about this. I know you’re upset about the Changretta boy and I don’t blame you, but what’s done is done. And you must understand that John is under a lot of stress at home. I’m not sure if you know this, but there's another little one on the way,” she said hesitantly.

“Again?” you nearly shrieked. It was the third time in the nearly four years he'd been married. 

Polly nodded slowly. “You see why he’s so on edge lately?”

You swallowed thickly, thinking of how chaotic the household must be with six children, soon to be seven. Although you attempted a shred of compassion for his new wife, you couldn’t manage it. “Yes, I understand,” you said in a quiet monotone. “He has a lot of people depending on him.” It was what Polly wanted to hear so you spoke the words, turning your head away so she couldn’t read your expression.

“Exactly. I know it doesn’t excuse his behavior here, but we all have to learn to get along,” she advised, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before leaving you alone in the room. A bitter laugh escaped your throat at the thought of any of you living peacefully after all you’d inflicted upon one another. 

—————————————————-

1919

As the first rays of dawn broke, you sat up in bed, face aching from the bruise across your cheek and your mind reeling from the events of the previous day. If Tommy hadn’t trusted you before, there was no hope for you now with so much cash missing from the betting shop, especially when he learned the Lees were to blame. How could he not think you were involved?

Panic setting into your bones, you decided to make a hasty retreat from Polly’s house while you still could. Despite the throbbing in your wrist, you slipped your dress over your head and silently turned the bedroom doorknob, giving the hallway a quick glance for occupants. With no signs of activity, you slipped quietly down the steps and right to the front door, knowing this would be the most difficult part of your escape. The rusty hinges creaked loudly and you cringed at the noise, well aware of how it carried throughout the house. Rightfully so as Tommy’s voice beckoned to you at the sound. “Where are you off to so early?” his husky voice called out.

You spun around to face him, heart pounding in your chest as you waited for his wrath to rain down upon you. You calculated the distance to the street, wondering if you might still be able to outrun him, when he suddenly closed the distance between you, shutting the door with a gentle push. 

As he stared into your eyes, he spoke again in a much softer voice. “I misjudged you."

You held your breath realizing how close he stood, the heat radiating off his body into yours. Transfixed by the intensity of his bright, blue eyes, you couldn’t help but stare back at him. The anxious flutter you felt in your stomach intensified as you waited to hear what he thought he knew about you.

“What you did for Ada last night was…” he looked away for a moment as he tried to find the words to express the gratitude he felt upon hearing of Ada’s difficult labor and delivery. “Well, my sister and nephew are alive because of you. You could have gone with the Lees, but you stayed here,” he said, emphasizing the last part. You realized he was recognizing the loyalty in your decision, though for you it had been a matter of common decency.

“Thank you,” he added hesitantly and you could tell from the way he said it, he didn’t make a habit of ingratiating himself to others.

“I only did what I thought was right,” you said, averting your eyes to the floorboards.

One look at your tense posture and Tommy took a step back to give you air. He gestured toward the table as he asked, “Will you sit with me?” You nodded slowly, crossing to join him at the kitchen table. Tommy took a seat and lit a cigarette, leaning back and tilting his head as he searched the ceiling through the rings of smoke. Then the words tumbled forth, breaking the awkward silence unexpectedly. 

“About that night in the stable… I brought you here to look after my family and I had to know I could trust you. Charlie thought you might have put a spell on the horse and for a moment I believed him.” Sitting up and looking you in the eye he added, “But when I asked you for the truth, I could tell by your reaction that it wasn’t your doing.”

Your eyes grew wide at his confession. You hadn’t expected him to speak of it ever again and the thought of him bringing it up now made you shudder. With a dismissive air and bitter tone you pushed it away saying, “M used to it. No one trusts gypsies.” You hugged your arms around your body to still your trembling limbs, hoping Tommy would’t recognize weakness in you.  

“It’s not right though,” he said looking you in the eye. “I should never have…”

“No, you shouldn’t, you bastard” you interjected, jaw firmly set at the mention of his cruel treatment. 

Tommy sucked his teeth as he flicked ash into a mug, giving your jab a moment to wash over him before responding. “I suppose I deserve that, but I want to make amends. Can we start fresh?” Tommy asked, blue eyes searching yours intently.

“Yes, I think so,” you agreed reluctantly, unsure how this turn of events had happened.

“Good,” he said with a nod. “Because I’d like to invite you to have a seat at the next family meeting.”

Your head was still swimming with Tommy’s apology so you weren’t quite sure you heard correctly. “What? When?” you sputtered.

“Today, we have to go on the offensive now that the Lees have struck a blow and you’re our best hope of understanding their way of thinking,” Tommy explained. 

You touched the bruise on the right side of your face that was turning to a dark shade of purple, thinking of how your sister was one of them by now. What would your scheming do to her, you wondered?

While you were lost in thought, Tommy leaned forward to examine your swollen wrist and you cried out at his touch. He lifted your hand and moved it carefully to see if there were any broken bones, a skill he’d learned during the war while attending to his men. Nodding thoughtfully he replied, “You’ve got a sprain. You should let me wrap it.” 

“Alright,” you agreed, watching as Tommy fetched a bandage and efficiently went about his work, a fresh cigarette hanging from his lower lip. His touch was surprisingly gentle and your mind wandered to the times you’d watched him with the horses. You recalled how they’d responded to him without the use of a whip, only the sound of his voice over the noise of the scrap metal yard. You couldn’t deny that there was something about his presence in this moment that you found calming.

The roughness of his voice cut the silence as he spoke for the first time since he began tending to you. “I’ll be off to John’s now,” he said with a nod as he stamped out his smoke and before you could ask anything more he was gone, leaving you in quiet contemplation of your new role within the family and everything you thought you knew about Tommy.

————————————-

“Open up!” A voice bellowed out before John’s front door swung open, footsteps falling hard and fast on the stairs leading to the bedroom.

John sat up quickly, pulling the duvet over his naked body before reaching for his revolver on the nightstand. Tommy burst in with John cursing, “Fuck, Tommy! When will you learn to knock?” 

“When will you learn to lock your bloody door? The Lees could still be in town for all we know,” Tommy scolded.

As the brothers argued, the woman beside John began to stir at the sound of their shouting. As she rolled over to face John, Tommy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he caught sight of the woman’s familiar dark curls. John covered her quickly though he knew Tommy had already spied his secretary.

John tossed his gun onto the bedside table as he waved his brother off. “Alright, that’s enough! Get out!”

“Fine, but get dressed quickly. There’s business to discuss,” Tommy said, turning to leave. Then hesitating for a moment he called over his shoulder, “Lizzie, I want you at work by nine!”

She inhaled a sharp breath beneath the covers, embarrassed at being caught in bed with the boss’s younger brother. She’d gone to the Garrison to celebrate the new baby with everyone else from the office, but it was Tommy she’d been after. John just happened to be the brother who stumbled into the snug first.

After donning her dress and shoes, Lizzie leaned over with a warm smile and gave John a tender goodbye kiss. His head pounding from the hangover, he gave her only a sliver of affection in return, the reality of what he’d done hitting him full force. When he closed his eyes the only person he could see was you.

“I’ll be going, but I’d like to do this again. You never call me anymore,” she said biting her lip. Pulling back to study him she noticed John’s baby blue eyes didn’t dance with light as they had the night before.

“Listen, Lizzie…” he began, but Tommy interrupted, calling to him from downstairs. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” he said and she nodded cheerfully before pulling on her heels and clicking down the hall.

By the time John joined Tommy in the kitchen, Tommy was pacing like a wild animal. “Where the fuck were you yesterday, eh?” he asked, pointing a finger at his brother. 

John rubbed a hand over his face and shook his head slightly. He couldn’t think clearly. What had happened? Before he had time to reply, Tommy was stalking toward him angrily. “The betting shop was robbed by the Lees. Y/n and Ada could have been killed because you left your post, John!”

“Oh, fuck off, Tommy!” John replied. “This is not my fault! How was I meant to do collections for Arthur and run the shop? Scudboat was there anyhow,” he asserted, pulling his suspenders up with an annoyed roll of his neck.

“Except he wasn’t. He went to Charlie’s yard for the arrival of the new shipment which is why you were supposed to have been back by four!” Tommy said, slamming the kitchen table with his palm for emphasis. Running a hand through his hair he shook his head muttering, “You never fucking listen.”

John closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, another vision of you suddenly dancing across his eyelids. He’d noticed a deep red mark on your cheek and how you winced when Ada put too much pressure on your hand, but you’d both been so consumed with Ada’s labor. You’d been steadfast delivering the baby, but that was how you were when you were scared, carrying on despite the fear. John’s head shot up as he asked, “Y/n? How is she?”

Tommy let out a heavy sigh as he realized he was finally getting through to his brother, plopping down in a chair he replied, “She has some bruises and a sprained wrist. She was lucky this time, brother, but the danger will increase. The Lees know she gave us information about their operation. They took their money, but now they want blood,” Tommy said ominously. 

John nodded in understanding. He wouldn’t let his concentration lapse again. You were too important and he was determined to do everything in his power to protect you this time. He only needed to bring you home.

———————————————-

The family assembled in the betting shop without noticing you hovering in the corner, feeling woefully out of place. Polly and Arthur were already seated, talking quietly as Polly smoked her clove cigarettes. Lizzie sat with pencil and paper in hand to take notes if necessary, but she didn’t appear nearly as concerned as the others. In fact, she was positively radiant, as though she couldn't stop smiling. You wondered what she had to be so cheerful about, when Isaiah appeared in the doorway, remarking to her, “Looks as though someone had a good night.”

“You know, John,” Lizzie replied with a giggle. Your heart stopped as you watched her bite her lip seductively, wondering what she meant by that. 

Moving to the kitchen to help yourself to a cup of tea, Isaiah sauntered in behind you, clearing his throat to announce his presence. “Why didn’t you come to the Garrison last night?” he asked, leaning against the cupboards with a casual charm he directed at most ladies.

“I was tired. Delivering a baby will do that,” you replied with a smile.

“Of course. John said you were brilliant,��� Isaiah complimented you as he removed his cap and smoothed his hair.

“Isaiah, was Lizzie with you and John last night?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

A wide grin spread across Isaiah’s face as he accepted the mug of tea you offered exclaiming, “Yeah, for a bit. Then they told me to piss off. I mean, you know how they are.”

“N-no, I don’t,” you stuttered, hands beginning to tremble around your cup.

“Those two can’t keep their hands off each other! It’s been that way since the war ended. John used to blind her other customers just so he could see her more often,” he said with a laugh. When Isaiah observed your blank expression he continued saying, “You know what Lizzie used to do, don’t you?” 

Shaking your head, you felt your stomach drop and your mouth go dry as he explained their arrangement. Apparently John had been paying her for sex for years. The words stabbed into you as you held yourself up against the cupboards, willing your face not to betray your tender heart in front of a blinder. 

But the terrible feeling of betrayal was overwhelming as you remembered Katie’s words about her father and his whores. You thought John had feelings for you, but clearly you’d been wrong. The pit in your stomach grew as you relived the kiss you shared the night before outside Polly’s house. He must have sensed your hesitation and gone back to someone more experienced and familiar. You felt another twist of the knife as you wondered if he ever wanted you. His brother had forced him to take you in after all and suddenly you felt terribly foolish. Worried your legs might give out at any moment, you excused yourself to take a seat at the table.

The pain only worsened as Lizzie turned to address you with an air of worldly sophistication. “Y/n, it was kind of you to leave John and me last night. One day you’ll see how important it is that a man and a woman have their privacy. I know John appreciates it,” she said with a wink and a knowing smile. As heat seeped into your cheeks with the overwhelming feeling of humiliation, it was almost more than you could bare. Did everyone know John saw you as a child who wasn’t worthy of his attention?

Soon Tommy and John arrived, taking their seats at the table and you found yourself shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you tried to avoid John’s gaze.

As Tommy called the meeting to order you noticed all eyes on you, making you painfully aware that as a non blood relative nor a blinder, you shouldn’t be there. Tommy quickly put everyone’s fears to rest, making it known that he had asked you to be his adviser and no one dared go against Tommy. 

The meeting progressed quickly after that with John proposing an all out war against the Lees. He wanted to see them all cut to ribbons and you could tell by the dangerous gleam in his eye he was more than capable. Lizzie gave him a nod of approval from across the table and your blood boiled at the thought of them discussing strategy together, plotting and scheming as they lay tangled between the sheets. You were past the point of tears by now, coiling your hands into fists below the table.

While no one else came forward with a different thought right away, Arthur quickly agreed to John’s plan. Not one for ideas himself, he went along with the quickest method of handling enemies. 

However, Polly was next to speak and interjected reason before the men could become too blood hungry. “This all began because of greed, Thomas. If we propose to share our contacts with Erasmus and thus the earnings, it might convince them to stop trying to kill us.” You could see Polly favored peace above all else, but you knew Tommy would never settle for half his take. 

Then the idea came to you, born of resentment and retaliation, but an age old solution that would work nonetheless. You knew how to achieve peace if only you could convince your aunt and Tommy.

“There’s another way, but it requires discussion with an elder, my aunt, Zilpha,” you proposed, glancing up at Tommy.

“She’ll see me after everything that’s happened?” Tommy asked, a note of skepticism in his voice.

“No, but she’ll see me,” you promised him. You could see the wheels in his mind turning as he pondered what you might say to your aunt. If he truly trusted you, he would agree to let you speak on their behalf, however. 

With a small nod he agreed. “Alright, I’ll take you tomorrow,” Tommy said. “You’d better get some rest.” And with that, he left everyone in stunned silence, their fate in your hands.

As everyone filed out of the room, John remained, leaning on a desk. When you attempted to walk past, he stopped you, reaching out to capture your arm. “Y/n, wait,” he called out.

Your eyebrows shot up at his request, unsure why he hadn’t dashed out after Lizzie. It seemed her company was what he craved now so why was he here waiting for you? “What is it, John?” you asked, voice tinged with irritation. 

“I wanted to see how you are,” he said, looking you over with what appeared to be genuine concern. His opposite hand traced the bandage that covered your wrist, eyes trained on your injury as though he felt the pain concealed beneath it. 

“I’m fine,” you said, attempting to break away, but John held you to him.

Reaching up to caress your bruised cheek he spoke earnestly, “Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I should have been at the shop. If I had been, none of this would have happened.”

“Well you can’t change it now,” you replied, locking eyes with him, wanting to scream at him about Lizzie, but knowing it wouldn’t help.

“Let me at least try to make it up to you,” John pleaded, rubbing his thumb over your hand. “Come home,” he suggested in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him.

“Why?” you asked, snatching your hand away.

The biting tone had obviously hurt John, a wounded look crossing his face immediately as he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at the floor. “Because…because the children and I need you,” he reasoned, furrowing his brow. He’d never been good with words, but he hoped you would hear how much he cared for you with that simple phrase.

The words pricked the hairs at the back of your neck, confirming what you already suspected. There was no love there, only a life of convenience. Biting your cheek to keep from crying, you sucked in a quick breath before replying, “I’m sorry, John, but I’m needed elsewhere at the moment.” You turned on your heel and disappeared into the house.

—————————————-

You spent another night at Polly’s, too upset to return to John’s. When you closed the bedroom door before having your dinner, Tommy urged the others not to pry into the cause of  your sudden mood change. He explained there was a long drive ahead of you in the morning and reasoned you must be anxious at the thought of returning to a camp full of angry relatives.

As you drove to the Lee camp in comfortable silence, you were relieved that Tommy wasn’t the curious sort. However, you knew he deserved to hear what you intended on proposing to your aunt so you began explaining your plan for ushering in peace between the two families. While you expected him to question it a bit more, he only chain smoked as he kept his eyes trained on the road. When you’d finished, you swore you heard a low hum of approval emanate from his pursed lips, though you weren’t entirely sure from his stoic expression.

There was no time for doubt in any case as the car jerked to a halt. You exited your side cautiously, eyes scanning the horizon to find men with rifles stood at attention above you. “Slowly now,” Tommy advised as he stooped to gather a stick and dug into his pocket for a white handkerchief to tie at the top. As he walked up the dirt road toward the vardos circled on the ridge, he waved the makeshift flag. You allowed him to lead until he leaned toward you to whisper, “You’re sure you still want to do this? What of your future, eh?” It was the first he had mentioned you in any of the plans and you swallowed harshly at his insinuation that your fate mattered either way.

“Let me worry about that,” you replied stubbornly, marching ahead. Tommy wanted to laugh at your determination, but thought better of it considering the circumstances. He shook his head as he followed after you, admiration for your courage swelling in his throat. 

Zilpha greeted you with a wary expression upon your approach, face as dark and stormy as the clouds overhead threatening rain. Standing at the doorway of her vardo, she refused to descend until you had both been searched for weapons. Although you understood her hesitation, it stung to be treated as a traitor when you still held love for your family. 

When she was satisfied you weren’t there to harm her, she allowed you to ascend the steps and you breathed a sigh of relief when she extended a wrinkled hand to you, pulling you inside.

Despite having convinced her of your own good intentions, Tommy was made to wait outside. You could tell from her knitted brow, he would never gain her full approval and you knew you would have to work hard to sell his good points. 

After the preamble of commenting on your thin frame and offering up a hearty stew, Zilpha asked why you had come and you wasted no time with your appeal. 

“He’s a smart man, aunt. But he needs strong men,” you explained.

“For what?” she asked harshly, turning to face you with such force, her jewelry crashed together creating a tinny clinking that echoed out like a warning.

“Protection for his growing business. They get the winner in one of every three races before the race even starts. No need for chalks or rafflers. It’s a certainty,” you promised her, believing in Tommy’s operations so that she would have faith as well. 

“It sounds like this Shelby man’s got his hooks in ya,” she said, eyeing you suspiciously.

You bristled at her assumptions, holding your head high. “No Shelby has me, aunt. In fact, I have a unique proposal for you to end the war between you and them.”

“And what might that be?” she said, leaning forward elbows on her knees to hear you better.

“Rumors say Erasmus’s cousin Esme has been running wild. If I could promise a good husband for her, would you give Tommy soldiers? If you do, this alliance will make you a rich woman,” you promised.

Zilpha thought for a moment, recalling the trouble she’d had finding a suitable groom to take on the headstrong young woman.

“And what man do you suggest?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at you.

“Tommy’s younger brother, John Shelby,” you said, hoping she didn’t notice the way your voice wavered as you said his name. She hadn’t, too preoccupied by your talk of fortune. Without hesitation, she extended a hand in agreement.  

As you both emerged, Tommy searched your face for a sign that the negotiations had been a success. You gave him a small nod and he turned to Zilpha. “He’ll do then?” Tommy asked.

“Bring him round in a fortnight and it will be done,” Zilpha proclaimed. 

The drive back to Small Heath was cloaked in thick silence as you looked out the passenger window. Exhaustion from the long day was beginning to take hold of you, but something wouldn’t let you give in to the need for rest. Although you hoped your plan of revenge might heal your broken heart, the ache only grew stronger. You didn’t yet know it, but regret would soon take hold and there would be nothing you could do to reverse it. 

——————————————

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[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Uhm hi, my Name is lea and i really liked your jason teague Story.. soo i thought can i request a jason x female reader where she is the loser in highschool, but he seems to be interested in her and Shows her in a sweet cuze way that he isnt using her or messing with her?

Have a great day🥰

Promposal Dilemma

masterlist

paring: jason teague x female reader

rating: PG-13

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none really, language, zero smallville spoilers

timeline: set before the events of season 4

pairing note: jason and reader are seniors (age 18) in highschool

author’s note: i love love love jason and was so excited getting this request omg! thank you lea!! 😚🫂🩵🩵

gif source

Senior Prom would be in two months, and tickets had gone on sale today. You didn’t plan on going, maybe just with a couple friends if you did.

Meanwhile Jason knew exactly who he was planning to ask—you.

He’d been talking to you in history class this past year and he really wanted to go out with you. You liked him, sure, but you didn’t think he saw you that way.

“Y/n,” Jason said quietly, drawing your attention away from the lecturing teacher. “Who’re you going to prom with?”

“Oh, I’m not going,” you told him, matching his tone.

“Like…you don’t have someone to go with? Or you just don’t want to go?”

You shrugged. “Don’t really wanna go. Why?” you asked. “Do you want help asking someone?”

“Uh…no.”

“Really? I thought you’d be one of those guys to go all out when you ask someone; signs, flowers, maybe the marching band backing you up,” you laughed a little.

“Is that something girls like?”

“Depends on the girl, who’re you asking?”

“Y/n, is there something you and Jason would like to share with the class?” the teacher interrupted your quiet conversation.

“No,” you replied.

“Sorry, Mr. Bernard,” Jason added, feeling guilty for you being scolded. “Won’t happen again.”

You both knew Jason was lying, he loved distracting you from taking notes and would definitely continue to do so.

**

It was lunch time and you were eating quietly in the cafeteria when Jason came over and took the empty seat across from you.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked, a smirk on his face.

“Cartwheels,” you replied sarcastically before taking another bite of the sandwich you were working on.

“Were you serious in class today?” he asked, ignoring your sarcasm. “Do you think if I asked someone with a sign and flowers and music that she’d, you know…say yes?”

“Depends on the girl, Jason.” You shrugged a little. “Who’re you asking?”

“I don’t want to say,” he said, you narrowed your eyes a little. “I don’t want her to feel pressured into saying ‘yes’ so I’m not telling anyone who I’m asking.”

“That’s surprisingly really sweet.” You smiled a little.

“So, do you think I should make a big deal about asking? Or just be super casual about it?”

“I think most of the girls here like the big promposals. You know; big sign standing outside her window with a boombox, or in front of her friends with a bouquet of flowers, stuff like that. But, again, it really depends on the girl; some girls might say ‘no’ because you asked them publicly.”

“Uh, huh.” Jason nodded a little, biting the inside of his cheek. “Thanks, Y/n.”

He started eating the food on his tray, and you furrowed your brows a little.

“Do you need today’s notes or something?” you asked, a slight laugh in your voice.

“From History class?” he asked, his cheeks full. You nodded. “No, why?”

“Jason, you never eat lunch with me,” you scoffed a little. “The last time you sat with me at lunch was the week leading up to our mid-term and you wanted help studying.”

“I just felt like hanging out with you,” he shrugged a little, “but…do you want me to go?” he asked hesitantly.

“No, I was just a little confused is all.” You took another bite, Jason furrowing his brows but continuing to eat.

There was a couple minutes of semi-awkward silence until you broke it.

“Your football buddies are coming over,” you mumbled. “I’m gonna head to class early, I’ll see you later Jason.” You stood up and took your tray with you to the trash; dumping the remains of your sandwich and leaving the tray on top of the can.

Jason watched as you left the cafeteria, not really listening to what his teammates were saying as they crowded around the table and took their seats.

**

For the next week-or-so Jason kept asking you for advice about the promposal he was planning. You kept telling him it depends on the girl he’s asking and he should be talking to her. (You really could be completely oblivious at times.)

You were walking out to your car when you noticed the crowd of people surrounding the front of the school.

“Y/n!” Jason said over a megaphone.

“Oh fuck no,” you groaned. You walked closer and saw what everyone was looking at. Jason was standing in the center with a few football players; each holding a sign with a word that together made up ‘Y/n will you go to prom with me?’ in all caps. You smiled at the sight, Jason’s smile growing when he saw you.

“So, do you wanna go to prom with me?” he asked, no longer speaking into the device in his hand.

You looked around at the people now staring at you. The smile on your face slowly faded as what was happening really sank in. You walked over to Jason.

“Jason, you’re really sweet,” you started, his smile fading, “but this? This is not something that would make me want to go out with you? And the fact you did all this even after all I said about knowing the girl you’re asking just proves you don’t actually know me! I’m sorry, but no. Ask someone you actually know and not someone you pity and you think would be an easy lay.”

You didn’t wait for his response, you just walked away.

“Damn it,” he mumbled.

Thank god there would be two whole days before you’d have to face Jason and the embarrassment of what just happened.

**

“Y/n, wake up!” your mom called from your bedroom door.

“It’s Saturday!” you grumbled.

“There’s a boy at the door and I think you should maybe go talk to him before your dad scares him off.”

That sure woke you up. You hurried out of bed and got dressed in the first presentable outfit you could find. You checked the mirror, thankful that your hair didn’t look too bad and went downstairs.

“Hey, Jason.” You smiled a little when you saw him. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers and was clearly scared of your dad.

“You know this guy?” your dad asked, you nodded.

“Yeah, he’s in my class at school,” you replied.

“Mh, hm.” He narrowed his gaze at Jason before leaving and letting you talk.

“What uh, what are you doing here?” you asked him.

“For the record, I originally planned to ask you when it was just the two of us. I was gonna bring you flowers,” he held them up, “and just ask if you wanted to go to prom with me. But, after talking to you this past week I got really scared about it and thought maybe you were hinting you wanted a big ‘promposal’ as you called it.”

“Jason-”

“I have like a whole speech planned so before you reject me, at least let me finish,” he stopped you from interrupting him. “I don’t pity you. This isn’t an act of pity. And I did not for one fucking second think you were a quote easy lay unquote. I think you’re really cool and fun to talk to and be around and yeah, you being gorgeous is definitely a plus but that’s not the main reason I like you.” That made you giggle a little. “If you don’t want to go to prom, I get it. But, could I please take you out to dinner?”

“Jason, I would love to go out with you.” You smiled.

“Really?” His face lit up.

“Yeah, really. I really like you and talking to you is like the highlight of my life. You being adorable is definitely a plus but you’re also ridiculously sweet so, yes I’d like to go out with you.”

“You think I’m adorable?” he asked, his smile growing and his tounge barely peeking out between his teeth.

“Shut up!” You rolled your eyes, still smiling widely.

There was a comfortable silence for a moment as you looked at each other.

“Oh, these are for you, obviously” he handed you the bouquet he was holding. “I remember you saying you really liked these kinds of flowers so…”

“My god these are beautiful!” you said when you took them from him. “Thank you, Jason.”

“You are very welcome.” He beamed. “So when can I take you out?’

“I’m free tonight?”

“Perfect!” He bent down and kissed your cheek. “I will be back here to pick you up at…five?” You nodded, indicating that time worked for you. “Great! I’ll see you tonight then!” He turned to leave.

“Jason,” you called and he turned back to look at you, “don’t overthink it, nothing fancy, okay? I’m happy just spending time with you.”

“You just made my job that much easier sweetheart.” He smiled back.