#We only have to set up my table and then I have to get an HDMI cable and adapter tomorrow and the art franzy can begin

[nyancrimew]

confession: two weeks ago my friends got sick of me slowly cooking to death in my self-pitying emotional soup of heartbreak, took me out for drinks, and installed a dating app on my phone. we are all in the same degree at uni (i'm 25 + i promise this is relevant), in a faculty that is extremely quaint and mostly comprised of academics married to people with normal jobs. two years ago a teacher-couple joined our program's faculty, a fact that caused a minor riot within the teaching staff, who thought it was unfair to give two of four tenured jobs to a couple... unfortunately for them both of these profs are extremely beloved among the students and very good teachers at that. even if you've never taken classes from either of them, you know about this couple and probably whatever rumors are going around about them too. i've taken classes w/ both.

anyway. back to me on the dating app in the bar with my friends, pretty drunk, swiping though my bumble suggestions. for extra fun, we have set the minimum age to 30 and the gender to include "both" even though i am a lesbian. the whole table is viciously tearing down dating profiles, investigating their pictures, etc. i go to the bar to get another round for the group, am about to pay for our drinks when i hear a virtual SHRIEK from our corner. i get back, dish our drinks out. my phone is in the middle of the table, untouched by anyone like it's a cursed object. i look at the screen. it's them, our teacher couple. they have a shared dating profile, stating that they are "looking for someone to explore her bisexuality with". lesbian readers will know that this is not exactly an uncommon profile type to find, but still, seeing it from people who have taught basically everything you know about 19th century literature is... quite something. so naturally i decide to swipe right before anyone can stop me.

maia, i am so proud to report: i fucked that man's wife, she was absolutely lovely, and we will see each other again, and i am currently taking another class from her husband where the vibe is more than chill. my friends have been sworn to secrecy, but i know it's only a matter of time before someone slips up and the rumor mill starts churning... but who cares? i haven't thought about my ex since!

OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT

[sserpente]

Gifts and Roses

The other day, you saw a trend going around on the Internet where girlfriends shove some flowers into their boyfriends’ hands when they come home and then close the door on them only to then pretend their boyfriends got them for them. Now that sounds like way too much fun to pass up. Good thing Sylus is about to pick you up…

A/N: I saw this on the clock app just now and ran to write this. Have fun!

Words: 1162 Warnings: fluff

The trend was all over the Internet. It was funny if anything and your fingers were itching to try it with Sylus. For the laughs. And his reaction.

He was on his way to you now to pick you up to stay with him in the N109 zone over the weekend, spending some time with him, training together…perhaps you could even convince him to do a cheesy movie night with you.

For now, you’d found the perfect spot to hide your phone to record him. You’d strike when he was about to walk through the door. You looked at your Hunter’s Watch. Which should be any moment.

His knock came as if on cue. Confident, loud…how on Earth did he manage to make his knock sound dominant? You shook your head and quickly grabbed the flower bouquet you’d bought this afternoon. Two dozen red roses that smelled heavenly.

You giggled. Oh, you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. Next thing he knew, you opened the door energetically only to shove the flowers in his hands.

“Good evening, ki—”

Then, you shut it in his face again before he could finish his sentence. Five seconds passed, then ten. Enough time for you to cover your mouth with your hands to stifle a hysterical laugh. You had never seen him so taken aback before. Oh, that video was going to be gold!

Finally, he knocked again. You took a deep breath before you swung it open again. He was blinking as if I’d suggested he should start a singing career. “What…the hell was that?”

“Sylus! Oh, what, flowers, for me? Oh, you didn’t have to, that’s so sweet of you! Thank you! Come on in!”

Sylus tilted his head and smirked. “Your antics are getting crazier by the day. If you wanted me to bring you flowers, kitten, all you had to do was ask.”

Your heart skipped a beat when he handed the roses back to you and kissed your cheek in greeting.

“It doesn’t count if I have to ask for them. Besides, your expression was priceless. It…was mainly because of this Internet trend so I set up my camera to—”

Sylus shut you up with a wild kiss. “You recorded me?” he asked then, hands still cupping your cheeks.

“…Yeah?”

“You are testing my patience, kitten. One of these days, you will successfully get on my last nerve and claim it for yourself.”

You grinned. “Would you like some dinner before that happens? I ordered some food for us.”

Sylus nodded. Amused still, he watched you retrieve your phone and followed you into the kitchen where you put the flowers in a vase before you grabbed the still-warm bags of food from the counter to make your way over to the dining table. Sylus had taken a seat already, one of his legs draped over his knee. He was engrossed in his phone all of a sudden and didn’t even look up when you served the food and eventually joined him.

“Busy week?”

“Hmm? No…surprisingly, it wasn’t too busy.”

“Who are you texting then? Are you sending angry emails again?” You raised an eyebrow. Sylus had a knack for terrifying people with his emails. You felt sorry for the poor guy at the receiving end of this one.

“No. No angry emails this time.”

You cleared your throat. “Okay then…I guess I’ll just start eating.”

With a start, Sylus paused and met your gaze. “Are you upset?”

“No! No, I just…I’d rather talk to you than watch you type away on your phone while we eat is all.”

He gave you an amused but honest smile, put his phone back into his pocket without another comment, and picked up his chopsticks instead.

“Thank you. Oh, I forgot to tell you! I qualified for the Senior Hunter Contest this week! The trials are starting next week. Would you…train with me a little over the weekend?”

“Were you now?” He chuckled. “I expected no less from you, Miss Hunter. Well done. Of course, I’ll train with you. But only if you listen to me when I tell you to rest. Unlike last time, hmm?”

“I passed out once, are you going to hold this against me forever?”

He leaned forward as if to make a point. “Yes.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. So…how was your week?”

You both finished your meal chatting about dubious business deals, Luke succeeding in doing a backflip for the first time and an angry email Sylus did send out on Thursday. Once you were done and you’d cleaned up, he grabbed the bag you’d packed for the weekend and beckoned you to follow him.

You had been looking forward to riding his motorcycle again all week. His affinity for ignoring speed limits (or lack thereof) aside, it was one of your favourite ways to spend time with him. The thrill that connected Sylus and you on your way back to the N109 zone was truly unmatched.

You took a deep breath when you arrived and took your helmet off, inhaling the crisp night air. You absolutely had to put ‘go for a drive’ on your weekend to-do list as well. Perhaps he’d even let you drive yourself. You rather liked the idea of him wrapping his arms around you for a change.

“Come. You’re tired.”

“No, I’m not!” Your body made you yawn before you could stop yourself. Traitor.

Sylus smirked. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to try and overthrow your sleep schedule every other weekend, kitten. I can stay up long enough for us to spend time together regardless.”

“I know but…”

“No buts.”

His large hand found your waist after he dismounted his bike himself, took your bag, and led you inside. Unlike what you had expected, however, he didn’t take you to his bedroom as usual but the guest room.

“I have some work I need to finish. I don’t want to disturb your rest.”

“I don’t mind. I like your bed better than—”

You paused when Sylus opened the door. The guest room didn’t look like you remembered it. Roses. Hundreds of them, decorating every single surface. Even on the bed, there were dozens of rose heads and the floor was speckled with fresh petals.

Your jaw dropped. “S-Sylus…”

“I had Luke and Kieran bring them to the guest room as soon as they were delivered.”

Delivered? “Wait…That is what you were doing on your phone during dinner? You ordered roses? Oh, Sylus…I feel bad now.”

“Don’t. My kitten wanted flowers so I got her flowers. And in the future…” He hugged you from behind, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. “…you better stock up on your vases, sweetie. And no more secret filming me, yes?”

You flipped around and grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I promise. But only if you stay with me until I’ve fallen asleep.”

Sylus smirked. “Deal.”

[corroded-hellfire]

This is a little angsty but do the AYW kids ever go through scrutiny about reader and Eddie's marriage from school and their friend's families?

With Ryan and Luke did they ever hear negative comments from their classmates other parent about reader and Eddie? Or a classmate saying "[reader] isn't your real mom!"

Can we agree that these boys need to be protected at all costs?

Words: 2.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The smell of crayons and Play-Doh hovers in the first grade classroom. The teacher, Ms. Fabray, counts her blessings that there aren’t any more foul odors filling the space. The kids are just back inside from recess, still rowdy with those last bursts of energy they get whenever they hear, “Five more minutes!”

As usual, Brandon Simpson is the last student to stroll in the back classroom door. He’s the most consistent troublemaker in the class and one of the reasons Ms. Fabray wishes this school year would hurry up and be over.

“Go sit there, Brandon,” Ms. Fabray instructs the six-year-old, gesturing to the only table that has an available chair. 

He plops down next to Luke Munson, who only glances at him out of the corner of his eye before he goes back to drawing.

Luke’s tongue pokes out between his lips as he concentrates on getting the shape of the dog’s nose just right. The moment he sets the black crayon down, his arm gets shoved. Luke’s brow furrows as he looks over at the culprit. Brandon beats Luke to the punch to speak, though.

“That girl who picks you up from school isn’t your sister?”

Well, that was one of the last things Luke expected to come out of the other boy’s mouth. Once his surprise vanishes, his head fills with a vision of you and how you smile every single time you see him and Ryan walking out of the school building.

“No, she’s my daddy’s girlfriend,” Luke says with a shake of his head. 

“But she’s so young!” Truthfully, Brandon wouldn’t have been able to gauge your age even if he was given one of the numbers, but he heard his mom complaining about the Munson’s dad being with a girl young enough to be his daughter.

While completely untrue since Eddie is only twelve years older than you, Brandon didn’t know nor care, and was just happy he had something he could use to tease Luke.

“So what?” Luke asks, reaching for the brown crayon.

“My mom says your dad should know how ridiculous he looks,” Brandon says. “That he’s probably having a midwife crisis and is trying to feel young again.”

The little girl sitting across from Brandon tilts her head up slightly to look at him beneath her sandy blunt bangs.

“It’s midlife,” she says. 

“Whatever.” Brandon waves her off. “He only wants her cause she’s pretty and young.”

The bully is clearly just parroting what he heard his mother saying, but it gets the intended effect. Luke drops the crayon and his small hands curl into fists.

“She loves my Daddy.”

“But not you,” Brandon says with a shrug, turning to grab a few crayons of his own. “I bet she just puts up with you cause she likes your dad.”

“That’s not true!” Luke shouts.

“Quieter voices, please,” Ms. Fabray says from across the room.

“She’s not your mom,” Brandon goads while starting his own drawing. 

Luke hates that he can’t deny that. You’ve treated him better than his own mother has from the day you met him. It didn’t take long before Luke wished that you were his mom instead of Brittany. When he realized that wasn’t possible, he switched to wanting you to be with his dad. Now that his dream had come true, Luke never thought someone would be so mean about it. 

“But she loves me,” Luke says.

The words are true, he knows it with every fiber of his being. The four words don’t even seem enough to the little boy to encapsulate how much you care for him and do for him. To him, you’re better than a mom, since his frame of reference is so terrible.

“I love my hamster, but I’m not his dad!” Brandon shoots back. 

Luke’s hands bang down on the table and his brow furrows even further.

“I’m not a hamster! And she loves me!”

“What’s going on over there?” Ms. Fabray asks, craning her neck in the direction of the boys.

“She’s a fake mommy,” Brandon continues, ignoring the teacher. “Not a real mommy.”

The fury has come to its boiling point in Luke’s small body. He sees red as he lunges for Brandon, knocking the other boy out of his seat. Both of them land on the rough carpet, a mess of tangled limbs and shouts.

“Boys!” Ms. Fabray yells, hurrying over to them. “Luke! Brandon! Stop it!”

Luke wraps an arm around Brandon’s neck, his Hot Wheels sneakers digging into the ground. Brandon’s legs kick, his heels pounding against Luke’s shins. It causes Luke to let go, and Brandon takes the opportunity to roll over and start hitting Luke in the ribs. 

Ms. Fabray pulls Brandon off by gripping him beneath his armpits and sets him down behind her. Luke hops up and the teacher immediately holds her hands out to keep the boys separate. 

“That is enough!”

“He started it!” Brandon shouts. 

“Nuh uh!” Luke shoots back. “He started making fun of my mo—my dad’s girlfriend!”

“Brandon, you go sit in the corner seat. Luke, you go sit at my desk. Now.”

The gray-skinned demon creature in the novel you’re reading creeps behind the main character and is on the verge of pouncing on her when the door to Eddie’s apartment swings open. You jump and let out a small yelp. 

Eddie ushers a red-faced Luke inside and closes the door behind them. 

“Hey, what’re you guys doing here?” you ask, glancing down at your watch. It’s still hours from when you usually leave to go pick the kids up from school. 

Neither of them answers, but Luke takes off running down the hall to his room. Eddie tosses his keys onto the counter and lets out a heavy sigh. He stumbles over and plops down on the couch next to you. 

“Luke got in a fight.”

“Again? Is he okay” Your eyes widen in shock as you lean in towards your boyfriend. The fight Luke had gotten into when kids made fun of Ryan’s glasses last year doesn’t feel that long ago.

Eddie nods, sighing again. He turns his head to look at you, a small melancholy smile on his face.

“Physically, yeah,” he says. “He’s upset though. He started it over something another kid said. About you.”

If the rug was pulled out from under you with the fight news, this crumbles the entire foundation of the house beneath you.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says softly. He reaches over and rubs his hand over your thigh. “That you’re not his real mom.”

Your heart drops. Sadness and anger simultaneously begin to fill the now-empty space in your chest. 

“Can I talk to him?” you ask, a tentative tone to your voice. You’d completely understand if Eddie, as his dad, wanted to be the one to handle this. 

“I think you’re the only one who can make him feel better, honestly,” your boyfriend tells you. 

Something about that touches you. The fact that you have a special enough place carved out in Luke’s life that there’s a pain only you can soothe. 

Unsure of how to respond to that, you nod and push yourself up from the couch.

It’s quiet as you approach Luke’s room, but when you peek your head in, you see him sitting on his bed sniffling and rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, you.”

He doesn’t look up at the sound of your voice. Instead, he curls further in on himself and scoots closer to the bottom corner of his bed. Your heart aches more and more with every step you take towards him. 

His Hot Wheels blanket shifts beneath you as you take a seat next to him. 

“Do you want to talk?” you ask him quietly. 

There are a few moments where his sniffling is the only noise in the apartment. Suddenly, Luke turns around and buries his head in your chest, his arms gripping you tightly around the waist. 

A gasp escapes you, shocked at the overt show of emotion. The usually happy and bubbly little boy sobbing into your t-shirt tears your heart in half. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, hugging him close to your body. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” you coo before pressing a kiss into his curls. “I’ve got you. Everything is okay.”

Luke’s heart wrenching cries bring tears to your own eyes and you do your best to blink them away. 

“I love you,” you mumble against his hair. “I love you so much, you wouldn’t believe.”

He pulls back and looks up at you with wide watery eyes. His face is tear-stained and rosy red. The pain you find there is unbearable. You’d give anything to make him feel better, to make him happy.

“I…I love you, t-too,” he warbles out. 

You press a kiss to his forehead, and he pulls away a little more so he can wipe his eyes. 

“Are you okay, sweetie?” you ask, reaching up and wiping away a tear he missed. 

“I-I got in a fight,” he admits. 

“About what?”

His bottom lip wobbles but he swallows down the fresh tears that threaten to pour. 

“Brandon Sim-Simpson kept saying you don’t love me because you’re n-not a r-real mommy.”

“Oh, Luke.” One of the tears that had collected spills down your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away. “You don’t think that, do you?”

The little boy shakes his head, his curls bouncing with the motion. You breathe a sigh of relief. It would absolutely break you if Luke believed this punk kid and doubted your affection for him.

“Good.” Gently, you cup Luke’s face in your hands and look him straight in the eye. “Luke, I love you, Ryan, and Daddy more than anything or anyone else in the world. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone as much as I love you.”

“H-He wouldn’t believe me,” Luke sniffles. 

“Well…then he’s stupid.”

Luke’s eyes widen at your words. He never expected to hear you talk like that about a kid. But this particular kid hurt your boy, so you think calling him “stupid” is on the tame end of the spectrum. 

“Honey, you know that I love you. Me, Ryan, and Daddy all know it and we all love each other. That’s all that matters.” You smooth some curls away from his face. “I know what he said hurt you. He was wrong in what he said. But it’s true I’m also not your mommy.”

The six-year-old glumly nods his head, his eyes downcast.

“But…” You tip his chin back up, so he’ll look at you. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you in the same way a mommy does. Because I do. I would do anything for you.” I would die for you, you think to yourself. I would kill for you. “I will love you for the rest of my life, and even after.”

“Even after?” Luke asks.

“Yeah,” you say with a soft smile. “I’ll be a ghost and still try to squeeze you.” You wrap him up in your arms and pull him into your lap. He’s getting a little big for this, but you don’t give a shit.

Luke tucks his head under your chin and his hands grip your upper arms, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. “You’re everything to me, Luke. The fact that I’m not the one who brought you into this world doesn’t change that. Nothing can ever change it. You’re my little boy.”

“You’re better than a mommy,” Luke says against your neck, letting his eyes slip closed.

His words warm your heart, and you give him a soft squeeze. 

“Thank you.” Softly, you rub your hand up and down his back. “Do you feel better?”

You can feel his curls brush against you as he nods his head. He sniffles once more before tilting his head back to look up at you.

“Yes. I’m sorry I got in a fight.”

“I understand the feelings getting too big, sweetheart. But we have to find better ways to express them, okay?”

He nods again and dives back in for another hug. 

You cling to him just as tightly as he does to you. The love the two of you have for one another surrounds you in a warm bubble, solidifying this moment in both of your memories. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Luke, and you’ll spend the rest of your life showing him in a million different ways. 

[surielstea]

“Hey, Stranger.”

Based on a request.

Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

Summary: In attempt to get away from the ball, Rhysand encounters a generous stranger and seems to find exactly what he’s looking for when she invites him in.

Warnings: Mention of sickness | all fluff | teensy argument at the end but has a HEA :)

4.1k words

Rhys had yet to decide where it was exactly he was going. His hands were tucked into his pockets and the darkness of his power swirling from his neatly pressed jacket.

He left the ball thrown in his honor quickly after it started, it was an event meant solely for him to find a High Lady, or at least scope out the options.

A night of mindless women vying for attention that he had no care for, none of them held what he was looking for, and none of them were her. Who she was, he had no clue, but he would, once he found her.

A low whistle came from his lips, the tune the same one he heard as he snuck out of his own damned party.

I was squatted down beside the bar sign, writing the nightly specials with the chalk in my hands when the stranger approached.

"One free drink with the order of a meal? It's almost too good to be true," The male said. I turned, not noticing his footsteps, and glancing towards him. I chuckle, rising to face him— even if he towered over me, and readjusted the sign to stand on its own. "You hungry? I could open up a few minutes early," I offer and his dark, manicured brows lift in slight surprise. He was beautiful, truly, his tanned features and hair dark as night complimenting his stunning violet eyes that seemed to be stealing the breath from my lungs.

"Such generosity, from a stranger," He smirks, his eyes softening as he took in my modest dress and simple hairstyle. It wasn't pity that shone in that glorious violet, but warmth. Then those eyes flick down from my face, lower, then slowly trail my figure all the way back up— lingering for a moment on the way my neckline dipped a little too low for comfort. I blurt out my name and his eyes snapped back to mine, not at all looking ashamed for his staring.

"There, not strangers anymore." I shrug with a gentle grin. He mirrors it with a charismatic smile that has been guaranteed to have dropped panties before.

"Lead the way then," He jerked his head back towards the tavern and I nodded, swiveling on my heel and heading towards the propped open, slightly worn red door. The tavern itself was a little rough around the edges, the paint chipping from the walls, the fireplace dusty, and half of the table legs were uneven. But it paid the bills and the regulars didn't seem to mind as long as we served drinks.

"Why aren't you at the ball tonight?" The male asked as I loved my way around the bar counter and he sat on one of the stools.

"I have to stay and look after my mother," I explain, and I wasn't sure why I told him something so personal, so I quickly added, "Besides, once that ball is over this bar will fill tremendously. Someone's got to run it."

He simply nods in reply, leaning onto the counter with fascination in his eyes, as if I were a creature to be studied.

"And what about you? Why'd you leave?" I ask, turning away from his stare to pour him a mug of ale.

"I didn’t find what I was looking for there," He explains as I place the mug in front of him. "Out here, though, much better." His eyes linger on me as he brings the glass up to his sensuous lips, and something tells me he wasn't telling me the entire truth.

"That's all? I don't buy it, you're too polished to be wandering like this, what's the true reason?" I lean my hands onto the counter, tilting my head at him.

"Polished, huh? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're flirting with me." He taunted, setting his mug down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"And I'd say you're deflecting," I retort. "So tell me, what are you hiding, stranger?" I smirk, using the nickname to my advantage, if only to further show I knew very little about him.

"Perhaps I found a better reason to stay away?" He suggests, leaning back in his stool with casual grace as if he comes to this bar nightly.

"Oh? And what might that be?" I arch a brow, pushing off the counter and crossing my arms over my chest.

His smirk widens. "I'm looking at her." He purrs and a blush blooms across my cheeks and my heart rate picks up, I prayed to every god that he couldn't hear it.

I steel my features into submission as I say, "You're not a very subtle male are you?"

He snorts, looking down at his pressed black suit. "What about me says subtle?" His eyes come back up to mine, reaching to his lapel and picking an invisible piece of lint from it.

I chuckle and shake my head. "Very little," I say with an amused smile, going over to the sink and grabbing a damp cloth that hung over the faucet, wanting to busy my hands, I begin wiping down the countertop.

"So is this what you do, then? Tavern maid by day, barmaid by night?"

"No, I only work the night shift here,  I'm a teacher at the school down the road during the day," I explain, a proud grin on my lips as I think of all my young students.

"A teacher? I thought they were supposed to be strict?" He suggests and I smirk, glancing up at him with a wicked gleam in my eyes.

"I can be strict if you'd like," I shrug, feigning innocence.

"You're bold for someone who doesn't know who they're talking to," He purred in reply and I scoffed.

"Bold?"

"Inviting me in? Flirting with me?" He suggests, leaning onto the bar, closer to me.

"I am not flirting. And I'm only being nice, you looked like you needed saving from your own thoughts." I shake my head, turning away from him and discarding the damp rag back over the sink faucet before moving towards the kitchens where I could prepare him a meal.

"And you think a meal will do that?" He asks from behind me, I can feel his stare on my figure as I shuffle behind the bar for a plate.

"I've been told I make a killer pie, you'd be surprised how far a slice will get you," I say while playing with a piece of my signature pie.

"I'll take one then," He hums and I walk back over to him, placing the plate of warm pie in front of him.

"Good." I hold a fork out to him. He takes it with wild amusement in his gaze before digging into the slice and taking a large bite. I tried to pretend I wasn't watching his reaction, instead refilling his ale but his minor groan did not slip past my notice.

"So, you never told me your name, what should I call you?" I lift a brow, glancing over at him and pushing his mug back over beside his plate.

"Handsome? Mysterious? Dashing? All three? I'll let you decide." He replied unflinchingly and it takes everything in my power not to scoff.

"I think I'll stick with 'stranger' for now," I give him a pointed look but he only replies with a one-shouldered shrug.

"Your loss."

———

The Stranger came back the next day, and the next, and the next. I always set a slice of pie aside for him. He usually came in at the end of the night, when the crowds dwindled and the barstools were put up, and once he was done with his food he helped me with the dishes, and I tried not to acknowledge the way my heart skipped a beat when our hands would brush beneath the warm soapy water. He'd always walk me home afterward and bid me farewell at the door, and only once he was gone would I realize that I never got his name. And if I did remember he'd change the subject or call himself handsome again.

I didn't get too hung up on it, I was far too distracted by his casual grace and clever remarks.

At some point we had shifted into him walking me from the school house to the bar, then meeting with me again to walk me home, I don't even know how it happened, how he had interwoven himself so much into my life. Not a stranger, a friend, whom I still did not know the name of.

I hadn't been expecting to see the stranger today. I wasn't working at the bar tonight, I told him that, yet here he was at the school house grouped with all the parents there to pick up their kids. They stared sometimes, at me and him. It was unabashed and more of a gawking look than a stare but if the love life of their children's school teacher is the only drama they have in their lives then so be it. I let them stare as the Stranger slung an arm around me and guided me along.

"I thought I told you yesterday I'm not working tonight?" I say, propping my hands on my hips as I stare at him with a pointed stare. "Which means no daily pie?" I say because that's what this was, right? He'd walk me to and from the tavern for some free food then be on his way. That was all.

He shrugs, his hands in his jacket pockets casually as he utters, "I still wanted to see you, slice or no."

"Shouldn't you be busy with more important things?" I ask, taking a few steps closer as a gaggle of young kids rush past me with their bags halfway on their shoulders, running to their parents.

"Who says this isn't the most important?" He suggests and a pink hue graces my cheeks. I look down at one of my students struggling with his bag.

"Well, you're always welcome," I say while leaning down and adjusting the boy's straps onto his back. The kid thanked me then rushed off, staring slightly at the Stranger in wonder. "Though the kids might ask you to read a story if they see you hanging around too much." I smile teasingly while brushing the front of my clothes off.

"I think I can manage that." He hummed, staring at me like I hung every star in the night sky that this court worshipped.

"I hope you know I'll be holding you to that," I say with a small smile, grabbing my own bag from its cubby and slinging it over my shoulders.

"Can you hold me to walking you home as well, or should I take my leave?" He asks, leaning against the doorway of my classroom.

I scoff a laugh, shaking my head amusedly. "I suppose some company would be nice." I drone dramatically and he returns my chuckle with his own rich, deep laugh.

The crunch of shoes on gravel sounded as the Stranger walked beside me, his black suede shoes so contrasting to my colorful kitten heels that the younger girls in my class adored so much. "So what does a school teacher do on her night off?" He asks after a pause of comfortable silence. Our hands brush as we walk, so I shove my hands into my pockets and shrug.

"Oh you know, wild stuff, baking pies, reorganizing the pantry, going to bed after dinner, truly living on the edge," I remarked, tossing him an incredulous glance.

"Dangerous, I might have to stick around just to make sure you survive." He intones and a soft giggle leaves my lips as I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

I could feel his stare linger on me at that moment, and perhaps it was the sun setting behind me, or the echo of my laugh, but I could’ve sworn he whispered, “Beautiful.” I glanced at him curiously but he looked away.

"You know, I've been thinking—" He started and cut him off.

"Treacherous words." I purr, earning myself a sidelong glare.

"Rude, as I was saying, I've been thinking that you might be one of the most interesting people I've ever met." He confesses and I snort, looking at him like he’s gone mad.

"What's funny about that?" He frowns, crossing his arms over his chest— and I most definitely did not miss the way his muscular arms strained against the fabric of his jacket.

"I work two jobs and live with my sick mother, there's not much interesting there," I utter, looking at the familiar slightly run-down town townhouse in front of me.

He shrugs. “I stand by what I said,” He hums, continuing to stay beside me all the way up to the front door.

My hand rested on the doorknob but I didn’t make the move to go inside, instead, I turned to him— my breath hitching at our proximity. I hadn’t realized how close he was, but now I could feel the warmth radiating off of him, his smell of sea salt and citrus invading my senses. I swallowed thickly as his eyes glanced down to my lips, then quickly back to my eyes.

"You've got flour on your cheek," He murmured and I flushed beet red in embarrassment.

"Still? Oh gods, I was prepping some dough for the tavern this morning," I replied, rubbing at my cheek with panicked movements and he chuckled, moving forward and reaching towards my face, then hesitating before touching me.

"Here, can I?" He arches a dark brow and I blink up at him but nod.

He cups my jaw, his thumb swiping over my cheek in a lover's caress. His touch was so intimate, and his calloused hands only brought warmth.

“There,” Again, his gaze went down to my lips, but before he could lean in I turned towards the door, fumbling with my bag for my keys while clearing my throat.

His touch didn’t linger as he retracted his hand and then took a few steps back. “So do I get an invite inside or am I subject to wandering the streets looking lost until I find my way home?" He suggests, simply filling the silence as I scrounge for my keys.

"Something tells me you're often lost," I say slightly shakily, finally finding my keys and unlocking my door.

"Not with you." He says casually and heat rises to my cheeks. I swing the door open, scanning the room for my mother then figuring she must be in bed. “You can come in, for a few minutes,” I say, entering the house and sliding off my shoes.

He follows my actions and closes the door behind me, taking in the warmly lit cabin, the fireplace crackling in front of the sofa, the curtains spread and welcoming in the last of the sun's rays.

I silently shuffled into the kitchen, and the stranger followed on my heels.

“So this is where the magic gets made, hm?” He said, eyeing a pie half dug into on the counter.

I frown at the sight of it and his brows furrow. “What is it?” He asks as I scan the room.

“I made that pie for you,” I say softly. “Hold on, just a moment,” I say and stalk towards the dining room separated by a partition wall. I peek my head through the open archway, finding my mother at the end of the table with incriminating crumbs and jam on her plate— and the corners of her mouth.

"Mom, what are you doing out of bed?" I sigh, more worried about her health than her stealing a slice from a container that I specifically told her this morning not to eat, granted she was half asleep and any food she could get down was as valuable as gold to me nowadays.

"I need a few moments of feeling young, and this pie will get anyone out of bed." She waves her hand at me dismissively, making a sour face as I attempt to look disappointed.

"Who's your friend?" She jerked her chin in the direction behind me, but she didn’t even glance at him. I turn to see the stranger now leaning against the open doorway, taking up the whole space with his height.

"Uh, he's—” I begin to say, only to realize I could not answer, for I still did not know his name. Yet here I was, inviting him into my home.

"By the cauldron— the High Lord." My mother gasps, standing up, her chair scraping against the tiled floors.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, gods, you'll have to excuse her, she's a little out of sorts—" I wave her off but the Stranger simply smiles and bows formally to my mother.

"At your service, my Lady."

My mouth goes dry. "You... you're the High Lord?"

The stranger— no, High Lord Rhysand, smirked. It dawned upon me that I never learned his name because he made sure of it, he only visited me during opening and closing hours, and that first night, the night of the High Lords ball, he said he hadn’t found what he was looking for, a potential wife. He had been looking for a High Lady that night.

Yet here he stood in my dining room like he’s always belonged here, his dark hair, his violet eyes, and his tanned skin all slotting into place in my memory of what I’ve learned of my courts High Lord. I swallowed thickly, glancing between him and my mother, then back at him.

“Can we speak, in private?” I say with a polite smile.

He pushes off the doorframe and moves for me to pass through. “Lead the way.” He gestures for me to pass with his hand in a dramatic manner. “It was nice meeting you, Miss,” The High Lord smiles charmingly at my mother and I grab his arm, dragging him down the hall towards my bedroom.

“You too, dearie!” My mother calls in a slightly frail voice.

I ignore him and pull the male into my room, closing the door behind him and then staring at him like he’s turned my world upside down.

I didn’t know how to react or what to say. I wanted to be furious at him, wanted to scream and yell and throw something at him to express the suffocating emotions clawing up my throat, but for some reason, I couldn’t.

Because beneath the betrayal, the anger, and the shock, lay something I thought I’d never experience. That flutter of something warm I felt when he smiled at me, or when our hands brushed, made me feel safe in ways I thought I never could before.

“Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me?” I whisper, quiet but not weak. My words were barely audible but he heard me, he always did.

“It’s not that I didn’t trust you, I just, I got lost in the feeling of you seeing me, for me.” He expressed but my glare did not waver.

“But you still have duties, you have a title— you have a gods damned court, you can’t just use me to play pretend,” I argue.

His eyes soften at my words and he takes a dangerous step forward. “I’m not using you, and I’m not playing pretend— in fact, it’s quite the opposite. With you Darling, I feel more like myself than I have in centuries.” He admits and I swallow, wringing my hands anxiously. “I wanted to tell you,” He adds.

“You should have,” I stress with narrowed brows, a furious expression that didn’t quite meet my eyes.

“But would you have treated me differently if you had known from the start?” He suggests and I clamp my mouth shut.

He was right, I doubt I’d be as unguarded with him if I knew of his title, and I certainly wouldn’t allow him to walk me home every night, and gods— oh gods, I flirted with him. The High Lord.

“I don’t know,” I sigh, rubbing at my face, unsure how to navigate any of this.

“I’m still me, nothing has to change.” He takes another step, less than an arm's distance away now. Too close, or too far. I didn’t know.

“But they do, you’re a High Lord and I’m just—”

“Don’t. Don’t finish that sentence, you are far more than ‘just’ anything.” He cuts me off and I release a low, well-earned sigh.

“High Lord,” I muttered under my breath, the weight of the title seeming to make my room close in around us.

“Rhys, please, call me Rhys.” He grabbed my still fidgeting hands, his familiar callouses still the same, the warmth still the same.

“I could never fit in your world,” I express.

“You already do, in ways I thought never imaginable.” He expressed, his thumb caressing over the fluttering pulse in my wrist.

“I don’t know what the future holds, but I know I want you in it— beside me, I mean.” He confessed and I swore my breathing stopped and the words were stolen from my mouth.

“You, you can’t be serious,” I shake my head, disbelief encasing me.

“I told you I didn’t find what I was looking for the night of the ball, but I did— an equal, a High Lady.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Everything was a phantom wind, except those violet eyes that I feel like I’ve known my entire life. Those remained steady, constant. “Rhys,” I whisper and the tension in his shoulders dissipates, as if hearing his name on my lips had lifted a weight atop them.

“I don’t know the first thing about, any of that,” I admit and a soft smile tugs at his lips.

“That’s okay, we can figure it out, together.” He promised. “You don’t have to decide right now, you don’t have to decide for another century if that’s what you prefer��� just think about it, because I truly believe no one else could fill that role, not the way you can.”

I nodded slowly, still processing everything, and leaning into his touch, his hand slipping into mine while his other came to cup my cheek.

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” I nod. Because I had to weigh my job at the schoolhouse, and my situation with my mother— I couldn’t just uproot my life and move into a palace.

“Will you also think about finally letting me kiss you?” He mutters, our noses nearly brushing.

I crack a sly smile. “I’ve done enough thinking about that, come here Stranger,” I grab him by his collar and he grins wildly the moment our lips connect.

His hand on my jaw slides to the nape of my neck while his other moves to my hip, pulling me impossibly closer.

My arms sling over his shoulders, my chest pressed to his, slotting together like the final piece to a puzzle I’ve been trying to finish for years.

Everything else faded away as my back made contact with the cold wood of my door and his wicked tongue slid over my bottom lip. I gasped softly and he took advantage of the moment to invade my mouth. He explored and tasted and savored every inch he could find, memorizing the feel of me against him, my taste, my rapid heartbeat, my muffled noises.

I didn’t know I was suffering from lack of oxygen until he pulled away and I had to take a deep, recovering inhale.

I blinked a few times, the kiss tilting my world on its axis.

He chuckled, the sound like velvet against my bare skin. “That really did a number on you, huh?” He taunted and I glared up at him, wrapping my arms a little tighter around the back of his neck.

“Don’t get cocky, I’m still mad at you,” I grumble but his smile didn’t falter.

“In my defense, you never asked if I was the High Lord,” He said matter of factly and I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, right because that’s a normal question to ask people I meet on the street.” I scoff and he nods, staring down at me with a love-drunken smile.

“I might take you up on that High Lady offer sooner than expected if kissing is a part of my job description,” I murmur, ghosting my lips over his.

He gifts me a wolfish grin in reply. “Much more than kissing is on that description,” He purrs, matching my tone.

“Tempting.” I rise onto my toes and connect our lips once again, and again, and again. Prepared to do so until I was sure I was sick of the taste of him.

I knew it was reckless to make such life-changing decisions so suddenly, but internally it was clear what my answer would be to his offer.

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[milfhunter6698]

Under pressure pt6

synopsis: Upon joining the NYC firm as a new associate, you quickly find yourself facing the pressure of working under the firm’s star senior partner, Victoria neuman. With a reputation for excellence and an eye for potential, she was searching for a junior partner who can meet her exacting standards. You, with your impressive credentials and unwavering ambition, seemed like a perfect fit…until the pressure of meeting those high expectations started taking their toll. 

Warnings: 18+ eventual smut, no use of (y/n), cursing, no describing reader’s appearance, explicit language, fluff, angst, teasing, hurt & comfort, power imbalance, slight AU, some similarities to cannon, mentions of the boys characters (Hughie), slight age gap, rival associates, young!reader, older!Victoria, slow-burn, infidelity.

Notes: Happy wednesday everyone how we feeling, new chapter let’s get itt. Loosely proofread because i’m fighting for my life trying to keep my eyes open lmao anyway have fun! also thanks for all the support i’ve been getting on this story so far muah you already know ily guys.

previous chapter

wc: 4k

Excitement filled the air. The firm had finally won a high-profile case that had been looming over them for months. As colleagues mingled and celebrated, you sat alone at a table in the corner, nursing a drink. The clinking glasses and laughter around you felt distant and hollow.

Your recent breakup left you feeling detached, and your frustration with Victoria’s role in your life had only added to your discontent. The moments you kept having, the kisses that neither of you even acknowledged openly made you feel so lost.

Victoria, in her element, was surrounded by colleagues, but her eyes frequently drifted towards you. She noticed your somber demeanor and felt a pang of concern. As the evening wore on, she approached you, a warm smile on her face.

“Congratulations on the win,” She said, her tone light, but there was a hint of something deeper in her eyes.

You barely looked up. “Thanks,” replying curtly, you took a sip of your drink. The bitterness of the alcohol mirroring your mood.

Her smile faltered. “You don’t seem very celebratory. Everything alright?”

You set down your glass, frustration boiling within. Under the influence of alcohol, you felt braver than usual. “How can you act like everything’s normal? You barge into my life, complicate everything, and now everything’s a mess. How am I-… I supposed to j-..ust ignore that?”

Victoria’s eyes widened in surprise she let out a nervous laugh. “What—”

“No, you don’t. You don’t get to act like nothing’s wrong,” You continued, your voice rising. “I don’t even know if you’re the reason for m’breakup or..or.. just a part of it, but y-..you.. have no idea how much you’ve messed with my head.” you slurred, taking a swing of your drink.

She took a step back, hurt and confused. “Wait hold on— I didn’t… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cause you any pain.”

Your chest tightened, and you stood abruptly, your hand brushing past her as your shoulders bumped. "I need some fresh air." You left the bar, escaping the hum and buzz of the celebration.

Stepping out into the night, the city embraced you, the cool air wrapping around you like a blanket. “Hey wait up!” Victoria called out, “I didn’t know,” she said quietly. “Let’s talk about this.”

You heard her voice echoing through the night, though you didn’t turn, she caught up and stopped a few feet away from you, her presence soothing despite the tension. Your steps pausing when her hand landed gently on your shoulder, urging you to turn around and face her.

“I didn’t mean to be a complication. But I can’t deny how I feel. This is hard for me too you know…” She reached out, her hand gently cupping your jaw. “I’ve liked you from the moment you walked into the firm.” Her words were sincere, and the vulnerability in her eyes made your heart ache.

Your foreheads pressed against each other, your breath caught as you noticed how much you actually wanted her close. The warmth of her body against yours, the softness of her skin, brought you a sense of comfort and peace you hadn’t felt in a really long time.

You tried to pull away, to make it stop but you found it difficult to resist the closeness. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s…driving me crazy.” she confessed in a near-whisper, her eyes drifting shut.

Your throat constricted, and your heart pounded against your chest. "I don't even know what to say," you breathed, hardly audible as you nuzzled your nose into her cheek.

Victoria's voice was soft, yet assertive. The thick, charged air hung heavily, her trembling lips parting, "Just... be honest with me. What do you want?" You gulped, the words swirling in your head before you finally stammered, "I... I want you, Victoria."

For a moment, she stepped back, heart raced wildly, every nerve buzzing as you awaited her response. Your eyelids fluttering open meeting her gaze. Then, she moved towards you again, unable to contain her feelings any longer, she leaned in, your lips crashing together in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Time stopped as her lips devoured yours, stealing your breath in the most exhilarating way. Her firm grip around your waist tugged you closer, you reached up, gripping a handful of her soft hair, pulling her in while eagerly welcoming her touch. You held her close, clinging to her like a drowning man grasping for a lifesaver.

You groaned as you woke up to the sound of something vibrating against your hip. Your phone buzzed incessantly in your pocket, dragging you out of a deep, disoriented sleep. You shifted, trying to get comfortable, only to feel the ground beneath you. Wait… the ground?

With a sudden jolt, you realized you weren’t on the bed. You were instead on the floor, tangled in your blanket, half on the couch, half sprawled on the living room rug. Your head pounded, and you blinked in confusion as memories from the night before filtered back.

“Damn it,” you muttered, realizing you’d fallen asleep on the couch after downing one too many drinks at the celebration.

Your phone buzzed again, and you fumbled for it. It was already late—later than you’d ever intended to wake up. “Ugh, perfect start to the day,” you grumbled, throwing on some clothes as you dashed out the door.

By the time you stumbled into the firm, you were in rough shape. Your hair was a mess, your shirt half-tucked, and your eyes half-open. As you hurried down the hallway toward your desk, Hughie spotted you and couldn’t resist. “Whoa looks like you just crawled out of a dumpster,” He said with a snicker. “Rough night?”

You shot him a half-hearted glare, still rubbing your temples. “Not in the mood, Hughie.”

“Oh, come on. You look like you lost a fight with a tequila bottle,” He continued, laughing at his own joke. “Did you forget the firm’s rule about handling hangovers? ‘Fake it till you make it,’ ”

You ignored him, not willing to engage, and trudged toward your desk, hoping to make it through the day unnoticed. But that hope vanished when your phone buzzed with a message from Victoria. ‘My office. Now.’

Great, just what you needed.

You strode down the hallway, steeling yourself for another one of Victoria’s sharp critiques. When you stepped inside her office, she was sitting at her desk, paperwork in hand. Without looking up, she said “Rough morning?”

You opened your mouth to respond but stopped short when she glanced up at you. There was a hint of amusement in her eyes—something you weren’t expecting. Usually, she’d tear into you for showing up in this state, but instead, she just shook her head with a barely-contained smile.

“You look like death warmed over,” she commented, a slight laugh escaping her lips. Oh okay? thanks.. You rubbed the back of your neck, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I might have had one too many last night.”

“I can see that,” she replied, smirking. “Lucky for you, I’m in a good mood today.”

You raised an eyebrow, still waiting for the reprimand that was surely coming. But instead she leaned back in her chair, her expression softening for just a moment.

“Go freshen up. I’ve got a new case for you to handle, and I need you at your best,” she said, gesturing toward the door. “You’re not getting off easy just because you’re hungover.”

You gave her a sheepish nod. “Right. I’ll… I’ll get it together.” As you turned to leave, her voice followed you. Pausing, you glanced back over your shoulder.

“Next time, maybe lay off the tequila.”

You shook your head fighting back a smile, as you hurried to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face in a desperate attempt to wake up. As you stared at your reflection, you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. The pounding in your head was still there, but at least Victoria hadn’t ripped into you. That was a win, right?

By the time you returned to your desk, Hughie was still hanging around, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “You live to fight another day, huh?”

Rolling your eyes, you wryly replied, "Unfortunately, yes."

He stepped closer, his stupid grin unmoving. "Well, at least you're not fired. Small victories."

You let out a deep exasperated breath, shaking your head, fingers tapping impatiently against the keyboard. "Can you just let me work, will you?"

His grin widened, raising his arms in a mock surrender. "Don't let me stop you." With that, he finally left storming off down the hallway.

It was an early—afternoon, now with your head a little clearer and some coffee in your system, you dove into the case Victoria had assigned you with. Staring down at the files she’d tossed onto your desk earlier that morning.

The case involved a shady luxury real estate developer suspected of embezzling millions, and conducting some “off the books” transactions. The firm needed someone to gather intel, and for some reason, she had chosen you to go undercover—with her, you of all people.

The sun shone brightly as you adjusted your blazer, standing outside the grand apartment building in Manhattan’s Upper East Side. You glanced over at Victoria, who was effortlessly playing the part of your upscale, your sophisticated “Wife.”She looked stunning, as usual, in a chic, tailored outfit that screamed elegance. The glint in her eyes suggested she was already a step ahead of you.

The plan was simple enough: pose as a married couple looking for a luxury apartment in an upscale building. You would snoop around, strike up casual conversations with the real estate agents, and see what you could uncover. Seemed straightforward… right? Except… playing pretend with Victoria wasn’t exactly something you’d been prepared for.

“Well, Ms. Adams,” Victoria said in a playful tone, slipping her arm through yours. “Shall we see if this place is up to our standards?”

You smirked, your nerves only slightly getting the better of you. “Let’s hope the kitchen has an island. You know how I can’t live without one.”

She chuckled softly as you made your way inside the pristine lobby. You were greeted by a sharply dressed agent, who led you through the gleaming corridors, talking up the amenities of the building. you felt a small jolt of tension every time Victoria’s arm brushed against yours.

Inside the apartment, you played your roles seamlessly. She wandered around with the air of a woman used to luxury, commenting on the layout while you made subtle inquiries about the building’s other residents, dropping casual hints to pry for information. But as much as you tried to focus on the case, you found your mind wandering to how convincingVictoria was as your partner.

At one point, she turned to you with a playful grin. “What do you think, darling? Does this place scream ‘home sweet home’?”

Darling..

You chuckled nervously, trying to stay in character. “It’s perfect… but we might need more closet space. You know how you can never resist buying another pair of shoes.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Oh, I think we’ll manage. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of room to grow.”

There was a subtle, almost flirtatious tension in her words, and for a split second, your mind went blank. You quickly recovered, though the blush creeping up your neck was harder to hide. The agent, oblivious to the undercurrent between you, continued his tour.

As you finally left the building, you felt your pulse quicken. You shot a sidelong glance at Victoria, still trying to figure out what had just unraveled between you during the tour. “Is it just me,” you started, hesitating for a moment, “or did we get a little too into character back there?”

She looked at you with a bemused expression. “What’s the matter? I thought you enjoyed playing house.”

“Playing house?” You repeated, your brow furrowing as you stepped out onto the sidewalk. “You were practically flirting in there.”

Her lips twitched with amusement, her eyes glinting. “We’re supposed to be a married couple, aren’t we? It’s called method acting.” She winked at you playfully, and you found yourself momentarily speechless.

“Method acting, right,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “You were really committed.”

Victoria shot you a sideways glance, an impish smile playing on her lips. “You weren’t so bad yourself. If this lawyer thing doesn’t work out, we can always give Hollywood a try.”

You scoffed, still flustered. Before you could respond, a cab pulled up, and Victoria slid in gracefully, motioning for you to follow. You were still trying to process what had happened inside the building when she quipped, “By the way, you might want to work on your romantic banter. You nearly broke character back there.”

You stared at her, momentarily caught off guard, before letting out a soft laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind next time we’re… married.”

She smirked, settling back into the seat as the cab began to move. “Good. Wouldn’t want you to embarrass me.”

As the cab weaved through traffic, you glanced out the window, still feeling the lingering tension between you. The case was far from over, and yet your mind wasn’t entirely on the mission. She had a way of throwing you off balance—making you question things you’d never even considered. And for your life, you couldn’t figure out why you liked it so much.

The following days blended by seamlessly, and you found yourself standing in front of a mirror in a dimly lit room adjacent to the bar, fixing your hair, you wore a casual, square collar midi dress that hugged your curves perfectly. You know.. just something suitable for posing as the attorney of a notorious criminal, nothing too extreme. You honestly don’t even know how you got to this point but here you are, going undercover was your new thing apparently.

Your hands were slightly shaking, not from fear but from the weight of what’s about to unfold. This was new, something you’ve never thought you’d do. The client you’re meeting tonight isn’t just any dangerous criminal—he’s one of the most famous mob bosses in the city. The firm was using this opportunity to extract critical information about his operations, something the police haven’t been able to do for years.

As you struggled adjusting your dress, Victoria enters the room, clipboard in hand, wearing a confident smirk. She’s there not just as your handler but also to ease your tension. She walks up to you, scanning your outfit with an assessing look.

She steps forward, her fingers brushing the fabric of your dress as she helps you tuck in the wires for the surveillance equipment. Her touch is brief but electric, causing you to stiffen slightly. You tried to focus, but the closeness between you only makes it worse.

“You look like you’re about to argue a case in court, not meet a mob boss. Loosen up.”

Victoria steps even closer, her eyes narrowing as she ensures none of the wires were visible. Your heartbeat quickens as her cool fingers graze your neck.

You spoke half-joking, “Aren’t we supposed to be keeping things low-key? I feel like I’m being wired to take down a casino.”

Victoria chuckled. “You are. But you don’t have to look like it. Try to relax—if you don’t, he’ll sense something’s off the moment he sees you.”

Your eyes darted to Victoria's lips as she spoke, a quiet snicker escaped you. "You're enjoying this way too much," you whispered, barely audible. Your breath caught in your throat as her fingers deftly tucked the wire into the edge of your bra skillfully concealing it.

A moment of silence passed between you, and your gaze locked with hers. Your heart raced, air barely reaching your lungs. She grinned, her lips curving into a teasing smile, “Just making sure you don’t blow our cover. Can’t have you getting arrested for looking suspicious before the real action starts.”

She finishes securing the wire and steps back, giving you one last look-over. There’s another beat of silence as you stood face-to-face. You inhaled sharply, trying to compose yourself before exiting the room.

Before heading into the bar, Victoria explains the stakes again, though you already knew them by heart. The client, Anthony Romano, is the leader of a dangerous criminal organization involved in everything from illegal arms deals to racketeering. His lawyers have been shielding him for years, but now they’ve slipped up.

A recent FBI raid uncovered documents implicating him, and the firm is stepping in under the guise of providing legal support. Your job is to act as his attorney, earn his trust, and get him to reveal information they can use against him.

She continues briefing you, her tone more serious than it was earlier. “Romano’s not stupid. He’s been in this business for decades. One wrong move, one misplaced word, and he’ll know something’s up. The police want him behind bars, but the firm needs him to slip up first.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then we try again. But tonight is our best shot. Just keep him talking about the case—his recent charges, the way the FBI’s closing in. He’s paranoid, and if you feed that paranoia, he might let something slip.”

Victoria gives you a firm look, and you nod, your focus returning, as you straightened up your posture taking in a deep breath.

“Look I trust you…we all do. You’ve got this. And if you get in trouble, I’m right here, listening in. Just keep your cool.” she spoke her tone softening.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one meeting a mob boss.” you smiled wryly.

She chuckles softly, a hint of admiration in her eyes as she steps aside, allowing you to head into the bar.

Once there, you scanned the room. The lighting is dim, the air thick with the scent of expensive whiskey and cigars. Romano isn’t here yet, which gives you a moment to settle at a table, order a drink, and mentally prepare. You adjusted the wire under your dress once more, ensuring everything is in place.

Victoria’s voice crackles softly in your ear through the earpiece. “Martini? Seriously? You know we’re trying to blend in, not stand out, right?”

You smirked, taking a sip of your drink. “You were the one who said to loosen up. Besides, it’s not like Romano’s going to care about my drink order.”

“Just don’t get too comfortable. Remember, you’re a hotshot lawyer, not some secret agent spy.”

You can hear the subtle amusement in her voice, but you stayed focused on the task at hand. Your fingers tap rhythmically on the table, eyes darting to the door every few seconds, waiting for him to arrive.

After a few moments, the bar door swings open, and Anthony Romano walks in. He’s taller than you expected, with a commanding presence that instantly silences the room. Suddenly a wave of anxiety washed through you as his bodyguards flanked him before he made his way toward your table, sitting down across from you with a cold, assessing gaze.

He wastes no time getting to business, his eyes sharp and distrustful. He leans forward, his voice a low growl. “So, you’re the one they sent to fix this mess?” His tone was mocking as his gaze roved over your body.

You nod, keeping your expression neutral, trying to remember all the points Victoria drilled into you earlier. Shifting uncomfortably in your seat, you inhaled a deep breath before responding. “That’s right. I’ve looked over the documents the FBI confiscated—there’s a lot to work with, but it’s going to take some time to find the right approach. We’re going to need to be patient.”

Romano narrows his eyes, his suspicion evident, “Patient? I don’t have time for patience. I need results.”

You felt a bead of sweat forming at the back of your neck, but you don’t let it show. You force a confident smile, channeling your inner courtroom demeanor. “Trust me, you want us to take our time with this. If we rush, we miss things, and that’s how they win. We can make this case go away, but we need to play it smart.”

Just as you were getting into rhythm, Victoria’s voice buzzes in your ear again, dripping with playful sarcasm. “Smooth. Really smooth. Almost had me convinced there.”

You nearly choked on your drink, but you manage to keep a straight face. Romano doesn’t notice, but the brief distraction causes your mind to race. You take another sip, using the drink as an excuse to pause, while Victoria continues her teasing.

“Just try not to smile. He’s not going to confess if you look like you’re having fun.”

Romano, still unaware of the wire, continues talking about the legal mess he’s in, mentioning the FBI raid, the missing documents, and his frustrations with his current legal team. You listen carefully, trying to pull as much information as possible from the conversation while ignoring Victoria’s occasional jabs.

Eventually, he lets slip more than he intended. He casually mentions an associate who “took care of things” during the raid, revealing just enough for the police to move in.

Suddenly, the bar erupts into chaos. Plainclothes officers, previously hidden among the patrons, move in. Romano’s bodyguards react immediately, but they’re outnumbered. His eyes widen as the handcuffs are slapped onto his wrists.

You stood up, watching as Romano gets escorted out, your heart pounding in your chest. You let out a sigh of relief the operation was a success the pressure is gone and Romano is caught, and your part in the case is over— at least for now.

Soon Victoria walks into the bar, her lips curling into a satisfied grin. “You know, you’re not too bad at this, though I didn’t peg you for someone who could talk business and order a martini at the same time.”

You let out a long breath, shaking your head. “I thought I was going to blow it for a second there.”

She steps closer, her teasing tone returning. “Well, you did almost smile in the middle of a confession. But, other than that, you were perfect.”

You frowned, scoffing. "What? how could you even—"

She cut you off, walking away without looking back. "I just know."

You shook your head in amusement, before following her towards the exit. As you stepped outside the bar, the tension finally eases. Casting a glance at her, you notice the shared relief etched on her face.

"Hey listen.. how about we uh, debrief somewhere..." You trailed off, your eyes meeting hers, hints of a smile playing at your lips. "My place? This time, with a proper drink?"

Her eyebrow arches, amusement flickering in her gaze. "A proper drink, huh?" She replies, her eyes sparkling with humor. You watch as a delicate smirk tugs at her lips, making your heart flutter. "Sounds like a plan," she agrees, gesturing for you to lead.

Your own smile widens, and you extend an arm signaling for a cab to pull up, you open the door for Victoria, a thrill coursing through you as you slid in behind her, eager to see how the night would unfold.

[vodika-vibes]

Can we get some Echo smut pretty please!! (Also one of my biggest pet peeves is how like every tbb echo/reader fic is always about him being insecure about his prosthetics like I get it but it's so repetitive. My man can be so confident and cocky when he wants to be and people seem to forget that.)

Who's Insecure

Summary:  Several months after joining Clone Force 99, Hunter surprises them with a night off at a local club. But, for some reason, his brothers seem to think he will be insecure about his new appearance. Which means, he has a point to prove.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1557

Warnings: Smut, club sex, Echo uses his scomp for purposes it's not designed for

A/N: So, I love Echo, and I love Echo smut, and I'm really not sure why I don't write more of it. But, anyway, here's Echo smut with some plot. It's not a lot of smut, but I hope you like it anyway.

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It’s a nice club. It’s not 79s, it doesn’t have the same comfortable vibe that 79s has, but it’s good all the same. The alcohol is cheap, the snacks are edible, and the music is loud.

For Echo, it’s good enough.

Honestly, he’s more surprised that his little brothers were willing to go clubbing at all.

While he would never say so to their faces, they aren’t really the clubbing type.

Which is a shame, because there’s a cute girl near the bar who hasn’t taken her eyes off Tech since they arrived. But, knowing his genius little brother, he won’t notice. And, even if he did notice, he wouldn’t know what to do about it.

At times like this, he really misses Fives and Jesse.

But, much more importantly, he has his eyes on a pretty little thing dancing up a storm on the dance floor. So far she’s turned away everyone who’s tried to dance with her. That said, she keeps meeting his gaze and tossing him flirty grins, so he’s just biding his time.

What kind of older brother will he be if he ditches his brothers before making sure that they’re having a good time?

“Echo?” He pauses, his bottle only centimeters away from his lips, and he tears his eyes away from swaying hips to focus his attention on his, suddenly nervous, brother. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Just,” Hunter nervously shares a look with Crosshair, who looks almost bored, “We just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

Echo stares at them blankly for a moment, and then he smiles, “Sorry?” He’s got to at least pretend to be a good role model, right? He can’t just ask them what the kriff they’re talking about, that’s rude. 

“We know that you’re a little uncertain about your new look,” Tech says without looking up from his datapad.

I’m what now? Echo blinks at his brothers, genuinely thrown by Tech’s comment.

“And people can be cruel,” Hunter continues, “Just don’t let it get to you if people make comments—”

Suddenly, Echo realizes that his new little brothers seem to think that he’s insecure about his prosthetics. Or his scars. Or maybe both. Maybe he’s done too good of a job at hiding his gremlin personality (as Rex calls it) from them.

He hums thoughtfully, his mind racing, and then his gaze slides back to the dance floor. For a moment, his gaze lingers on a specific pair of swaying hips and legs that go on for miles…and then he smirks.

Echo downs the rest of his drink and sets the bottle on the table, before he pushes to his feet, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding, vod’e.” He turns to head to the dance floor, “I won’t be back to the Marauder tonight,” He tosses over his shoulder with a slightly smug smirk. 

He weaves through the crowd of people and dismisses the two men who are trying to force his dance partner to dance with them with a flick of two fingers. 

She grins up at him, “I wondered if you were going to join me,” She teases, her voice light and conversational.

Echo’s hand slides low on her hip, “Patience is a virtue, didn’t you know?” He’s amused and he sounds it, “I’m definitely worth waiting for, babe.”

She hums and trails her fingers down the front of his shirt, “Prove it?”

“Gladly.”

In full honesty, you didn’t expect the cute soldier to actually come over to you. You don’t expect your flirty looks, teasing smiles, and seductive dancing to tempt him onto the dance floor with you. Let alone for him to clutch you to him as though you’re his and his alone.

He’s confident and cocky, not to mention strong and unfairly handsome. He has you wrapped around his little finger after one dance, after two you’d probably agree to anything he asked, and after the third dance, you’re wondering what you have to do to be able to keep him.

Your back bumps against the cool metal door of a storage room, and you can feel the music from the club vibrating down to your bones, but neither sensation is as important to you as the feel of his lips against yours, and his tongue sliding against your own. 

His arm is tight around your waist, holding you flush against him, as he blindly opens the door behind you and then walks you into the small room. You hear him lock the door as it slides shut behind him, and you whine low in your throat as he pulls away from you. 

Echo chuckles and cups your cheek, “Someone’s eager,” He kisses you quickly, and pulls away again making you pout up at him. He looks amused, you can tell that much even in the dim light of the storage room, though you’re not sure why he’s so amused.

You don’t say anything, just deepen your pout, and lean into his warmth.

His thumb slides across your lower lip, “Ah, cyare. I’m going to have to break you of these bratty tendencies,” But, even as he says it, he looks delighted.

“Not bratty,” You whine, before you take his thumb into your mouth and suck on it gently. You have a very talented mouth, maybe if you show him just how talented you are he’ll continue touching you again.

You keep your gaze locked with his, so you watch as arousal darkens his gaze. “Very bratty,” His voice is lower now, and you shiver at the promising tone in his voice, “Take your clothes off.”

You blink at him and pull away from his thumb, “All of them?”

“Did I stutter?”

You take a step back and slowly start peeling your clothes off. You’re not wearing much, all things considered. A top, a skirt, panties, and your sandals. 

You’re about to toss your panties to join the rest of your clothes, but Echo tugs them out of your hand and shoves them in his pocket. You don’t mind, it’s not like you don’t have more after all.

“Mm, look at how pretty you are,” Echo murmurs, as he backs you toward a table near the back wall and encourages you to sit on it. It’s surprisingly sturdy, for a wooden table. He taps the inside of your knees, spreading your legs so that he’s able to stand between your thighs. 

His gaze drops to your pussy, and he releases a quiet breath, “Look at how wet you are,” His gaze flickers to your face as he slowly brushes his scomp against your clit, pulling a strangled whimper from you. “All this for me?”

For some reason, you feel like you should be embarrassed at just how aroused you are for this man you just met, but you aren’t. You feel safe and warm and you want more.

You are aware enough to know that he’s not a mind reader, so you squirm under him and spread your legs slightly, “More,”

He grins at you, “What was that? You want me to stop?”

“No, More! Echo—”

He pulls his scomp away from your clit, and you release a whine of displeasure, which is quickly muffled by his lips against yours, “Greedy,” He chides against your lips, “And so rude. Did no one teach you manners?” His tone is teasing.

You blink at him, hazily, “Please?” 

“Please what, beautiful?”

You tug on the front of his shirt, “Touch me,”

“I am touching you,”

And he is, his lips are moving across your jaw and down your neck, while his hand alternated between tightly clutching your hip, and caressing every inch of skin that he can reach.

You squirm against him, able to feel his erection pressed against your thigh through his jeans, “Stop teasing me,” You whine.

“All you have to do is tell me what you want,” Echo replies, “That’s it. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I want—” You’re interrupted by a loud moan at the sensation of his scomp ghosting against your pussy.

“You want?” He’s laughing, the jerk.

It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, and you shoot him the neediest look you can muster, “I want your cock, please?”

His grin widens, “Well,” Echo leans in and kisses you slowly, “Who am I to deny such a polite request?”

He pulls away just enough to unfasten his pants and tug his boxers just enough out of the way for his cock to bounce free, “You’re not gonna fully undress?” You ask, breathlessly.

“If you’re a good girl,” Echo replies as he gathers some of your arousal on his fingers to spread on his cock, “Maybe you can have me in your bed and see me naked.”

“I can be good,” You counter, and then your head falls back with a moan as the head of his cock nudges your clit.

“Yeah?” His hand moves to the back of your head and he makes you look at him. There’s a grin on his handsome face, and you gasp as he thrusts deep inside you with one firm roll of his hips. 

Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, as he bottoms out and stops moving, much to your displeasure. 

Echo’s lips hover just over yours, as he throws your words back at you, “Prove it.”

@n0vqni @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @tiredbi-peach @dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435 @etod

@bb8-99 @continous-mistakes @yoitsjay @cc--2224 @adriennelenoir

[peakyswritings]

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART XI

Summary: the situation complicates further as Tommy’s stay in Sicily nears its end. It’s time for conversations, and things that have been buried for too long are brought to the light.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, references to past attempted assault, harassment, violence, angst, English is not my first language. This chapter is 18+, smut (I’m still not used to writing it but here we go). This is set between season 1 and 2.

Like in some previous chapters, some conversations are supposed to be in Italian but for obvious reasons I kept them in English.

A/N: sorry this is really long. I hope it makes up for the wait!

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

SERIES MASTERLIST

Dividers credits

Tommy’s proposal to Agnese had brought quite the hustle in the Ferrante’s property. A stream of relatives and friends had been coming to congratulate the new couple in the past few days, and people continuously came and went to make the arrangements for the wedding - or simply pry in the family business. And with the engagement party being held that night, it was impossible for Nina to step out of the house without bumping into some caterer or seamstress or, if she was particularly unlucky, some cantankerous old aunt who would stray away from her as if she were the Devil incarnated.

Her mood, which was already dark to begin with, had considerably worsened, forcing her to withdraw into isolation to avoid all possible conflict. She was easily irritated, she couldn’t stand her mother’s complaints, her father’s deceitfulness, her brothers’ haughtiness, and she couldn’t help herself from talking back or snapping when something bothered her. She could tell they were fed up with her insolence, that she was treading on thin ice, but she drew a twisted satisfaction from getting on their nerves. It was the only way she had to get back at them for the hell they were putting her through. Her role in the family, the impossibility of being something more than she was expected to be, the threat of a forced marriage with Stefano that was becoming less of a prospect and more of a certainty with each day that passed. And now that. Having to watch as the marriage between Tommy and Agnese took form, pretending with her cousin she was genuinely happy for her.

It was tearing her apart from the inside. At this point, Nina couldn’t wait for them to get married, so that Tommy would leave her house, her country, and set her free from the deep ache she felt every time he was near. It would be difficult, at first, but in time she’d forget about him, about the way he made her heart race, about how safe she felt in his arms.

“I’m going over to aunt Rita,” her mother hastily walked into the kitchen, holding a sewing box in her hands. “I’m helping her embroider the bedsheets for the trousseau.”

“Mhm.” Nina merely raised her eyes from the book she was pretending to read. Hearing about bedsheets and trousseaus was the last thing she needed in that moment, especially if it had to become yet another excuse to reproach her for not having the intention to get married anytime soon.

All of a sudden the book was soon snatched from her hands. When she raised her gaze, her mother was looking at her with a stern look on her face.

“Your friend has been invited to the party,” she said bitterly, as though the matter was somehow her daughter’s fault.

Nina’s heart fell to the pit of her stomach. It didn’t take a genius to understand who said friend was.

“The whole Spinietta family has been invited,” Maria went on, slamming the book on the table.

She swallowed harshly, the implications of that gesture rapidly sinking in. “Are you serious?”

“I warned you,” her mother pointed a finger at her. “If you had listened to me, maybe it would’ve been Angelo, not him.”

Nina rolled her eyes. Again with her friend’s son. What did she want, to put a death sentence on the poor man? She grabbed the cup of tea that had grown cold in front of her, and got up to pour its content in the sink.

“Did I tell you he’s a teacher?” Maria started again. “I bet he acts all intellectual just like you.”

“If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll intellectualise away from me. Unless he wants to get on the Spiniettas’ bad side, that is. Or dad’s.” She started to aggressively scrub the cup, taking out her anger on the fragile item. “And who says he’d be interested in me anyway?”

Her mother looked at her as if a second nose had grown on her face. Despite her unusual behaviour, Nina carried herself well, looked nice, had an education that most girls could only dream of. Her Italian was outstandingly clean, almost devoid of dialectal influences, and clear. Her brain worked incessantly, she had complex thoughts, and it was often difficult to keep up with her. Not to mention how she managed to give even men twice her age a hard time with the sole power of her words.

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Maybe he’d find me ugly,” Nina shrugged, “or stupid.”

“You’re my daughter, you can’t be ugly or stupid.”

Nina let out a sigh, drying her hands on a towel. There was no point in arguing. In those situations, it was better to let her mum vent until she got tired of talking with a stone wall and gave up.

Maria dropped the sewing box on the table with a thud. Once she had her daughter’s attention back in her, she started speaking again, a grave expression on her face. “I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in. If your father says yes to Stefano, then he won’t be able to say no anymore,” she said lowly. “You need to act before he says yes.”

“He can’t force me.”

If her father really decided to go through with it, she’d drop the bomb on him that she wasn’t a virgin anymore. Maybe she could do it in front of Stefano, for the pleasure of watching his smug grin disappear from his face. Would she be irremediably deemed as a whore? Yes. Would she bring shame upon her whole family? Absolutely. It would still be better than being Spinietta’s wife.

“You can’t change my mind on this, mum,” she concluded in a tone that didn’t leave any room for discussion.

Her didn’t mother didn’t reply, but the disapproval was clear on her face.

“You know what?” Maria picked up the box from the table again and put it under her arm with a nervous gesture. “I don’t care. Do what you want,” she said sharply, leaving the kitchen.

As soon as she heard the front door closing, Nina exhaled deeply. That was another issue she’d have to deal with, apparently. She wasn’t sure her mother would give up so easily, and she was scared she’d try to act behind her back like her father was.

Her father. Her blood boiled in her veins as her mind went back to the reason why the argument she had just gotten out of had started in the first place. It was time to talk to him, to make it clear that she would never accept to marry that bastard, that she didn’t need time to decide cause she had already made up her mind. The sooner they had that conversation, the sooner all that would end. Hopefully.

Animated by a fiery resolution, Nina strode through the house with large, quick steps. She didn’t pay attention to her brothers, who were heading to the kitchen to have breakfast, nor to Tommy, who was waiting in the large hallway for her father to let him in, and was now looking at her with a puzzled look on his face.

She stormed in her father office, slamming the door behind her. He raised his head from the papers he was signing, looking at her questioningly, but not without a hint of reproach for bursting into his private room without even knocking.

“What does this mean?” Her voice came out more high-pitched than she intended. She stopped in front of the dark wooden desk, forcing him to pay attention to her.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Her father leaned back in his chair, rolling his cigar between his fingers, keeping his oblivious facade. A new wave of rage ran through Nina, but she was careful to contain it. “You invited the Spinietta family to the engagement party,” she explained through gritted teeth.

Unimpressed by her accusations, he stubbed out his cigar, then folded is hands on his lap. “The Spiniettas are close friends of ours,” he said calmly.

“Right,” she let out a humourless laugh. “You became pretty close over the last month.”

“Business is growing.”

“Ah,” she nodded, raising her eyebrows. “Business.”

Her father clenched his jaw, and from the way his shoulders had stiffened she could tell he knew exactly where the conversation was going. And that he didn’t like her mocking tone.

“Is there a problem, Nina?”

“You tell me. Is there something going on that could be a problem for me?”

She wanted to hear it from him. She wanted him to admit it out loud. She was tired of being treated like she was crazy, like she was imagining things. She wanted honesty.

Vincenzo pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as if hit by a sudden headache. “I need to talk to Mr Shelby, can we-”

“You’re talking to me,” Nina said firmly, raising her voice.

Her father straightened his back, leaning with his elbows on the wooden surface in front of him. He fixed his gaze on her, his features hardening with austerity. “Mind how you speak to me, I’m your father,” he warned her.

“So I should stay quiet while you make decisions about my life,” she spat out. The way he was trying to impose his authority on her just because he had no arguments to defend himself made her stomach churn.

“I’m not making decisions.”

“You are,” she slammed a hand on the the desk. “Do you really think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Her father reached his hand out, keeping his voice still low. “Calm down.”

“I will not calm down!”

Ferrante took a deep breath, raising from his chair to properly speak to his daughter. If there was one thing he didn’t tolerate, it was disrespect, but getting angry wouldn’t work, not now, at least. It would only make Nina more stubborn. If he wanted her to listen to him, he needed to get his point across nicely.

“What do you want to do with your life?” he asked her, apparently changing the subject.

Nina furrowed her brows, taken aback by his question. She could sense he was trying to direct the conversation somewhere, and she was quick to pull herself together.

“I want to study,” she said steadily.

“You’ve finished school,” he countered.

“There’s university.”

“Women don’t go to university.”

Nina squinted her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Then I want to work.”

“Poor women need to work. Do you want to ruin your hands in a factory?”

A glimpse of irony flashed across his face. Once again, his purpose seemed to be to make her feel stupid, or naive, like she had no idea how the world worked. The thing was, he was right, to some extent. Nina had little experience, she didn’t know everything. But there were things she knew, things she didn’t like, and she wasn’t going to accept them just because that was how life was.

Vincenzo walked around his desk to approach her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, his expression softening. “I’m only worried about you,” he said. “About what your life will be like if you go on like this.”

“It’s my life, dad,” she whispered, feeling the tears well up in her eyes against her will. “Maybe you’re right, and I’m ruining myself with my own hands. But the choice is mine to make.”

Despite everything, she thought she could make him understand. There had to be a way to get through him, to make him see, she didn’t want to ruin the bond they had always had. Because she would make her own decisions either way, and she wished for him to support her. She needed him to support her.

“You’re my daughter. I can’t stand back and watch you do that to yourself,” he shook her slightly. “Let go of these fantasies, Nina. Real life is something else.”

Of course. How stupid of her to imagine that he could even try to understand. She shrugged his hands off, forcing back her tears. “You’re wrong.”

Her father nodded to himself, taking a step back. “We’ll see,” he simply said. “As for Stefano, I told you already. The choice is up to you, I’m not forcing you to do anything,” he reassured her, but his condescending tone had the opposite effect.

“You’re not forcing me to do anything, but that son of a bitch is always around.”

“Language.”

Nina scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. He didn’t see the point. He didn’t want to see the point. He only cared about business, about power. Why was she wasting her time?

She made her way towards the door, but she stopped in her tracks when her hand grabbed the handle. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke again, but she didn’t around to look at him.

“You’re making a mistake.”

Tommy watched as Nina strode out of Ferrante’s study with a face like thunder. He had heard the screams, but he hadn’t been able to make out what the fuss was about, the long sequence of Italian sentences unfamiliar to him.

Those kinds of arguments had happened frequently, over the last three days. Nina had become unmanageable - not that she had ever been the manageable type. But she had gotten worse. If someone so much as glanced at her the wrong way or said one word too many, she’d turn it into an excuse to fight. She was sensitive, and snappish, and she seemed to have lost the ability to put on her mask of coolness and indifference. As a way to heal his wounded ego, which still burned from the things she had said to him, he told himself it was a good thing she had rejected him. If she had the gall to talk back to her father like that, there was no doubt she’d act even worse with her husband, and he had enough headaches already. And for sure, he would’ve never wanted to be at the receiving hand of her temper.

Nina stopped in front of him, recollecting herself, and Tommy couldn’t not notice she radiated the same frigidity as when they had met for the first time. “My father wants to see you, Mr Shelby,” she said coldly.

Ah, now she called him Mr Shelby. As if she hadn’t been whimpering his name in his ear a few nights before.

“I think we’re way past the formalities, sweetheart.”

His remark was enough to make her falter. She blinked up at him, shocked by his bluntness.

“Way past,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

“Will you lower your voice?” she hissed, taking a look around to make sure no one was near.

Tommy held back a smirk at her flustered state. Her usual frown had deepened, and a tinge of red had crept up her cheeks. Had the situation between them been different, he would’ve gladly went on. He had to remind himself he wasn’t in the position to tease her anymore. Nina had said it very clearly, she didn’t care about him. What had happened between them had been a mistake, she regretted it. She regretted him.

Then why were her eyes telling a different story?

Nina huffed, tucking a rebel strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s waiting for you,” she murmured.

Her arm brushed against his as she walked past him, sending a spark of electricity through his whole body. Leaving him wondering when he had gotten to the point where the slightest contact threatened to make his self-control crumble.

Nina examined her figure in the mirror, a niggling uneasiness taking over her. She wasn’t used to doll herself up like that. She had put on a beautiful dress for the occasion, done her makeup, managed to tame her long hair, and she had half-hoped she would be happy with the result once she was done. However, in her silk dress, in her makeup, with her hair away from her face, Nina felt like a fraud. Ridiculous, even.

She had always been the ugly duckling of the brood. When her cousins had started to bloom into beautiful women, she was still all elbows and knees, drawing the petty comments of her aunts, poorly hidden behind harmless jokes. She remembered all too well the embarrassment she felt every time they pointed out her flat chest, joking about how if she cut her hair she could be mistaken for a boy. She was ashamed to admit that even though she wasn’t that gawky kid anymore, those words had stuck with her. She tried to convince herself she didn’t care about being pretty, that her mind was her primary concern, but the truth was, sometimes she wanted to feel pretty.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself and just pretend, she told herself, straightening her back. It was a little exercise she had trained herself to do over the years. Head high, impassive face, don’t let them get to you, act like you know exactly what you want, walk like you know exactly where you’re going. It worked, most of the times. Maybe if she pretended long enough one day she’d be able to convince herself as well.

Once ready, she crossed the upstairs floor of the house, reaching the separate corridor in which her parents’ bedroom was located. Her mother was standing in front of a full-length mirror, fixing some pins in her hair. Nina leaned against the doorframe, and allowed herself to stay in her company for a while.

Out of the comfortable clothes she used to wear, out of the kitchen, out of the restraints of her role as a wife and a mother doomed to annihilate herself, she looked years younger. The dress she was wearing was modest, elegant, and the dark blue shade perfectly complimented her complexion. The shadow of a rare genuine smile grew on her face as she put on her pearl earrings, mixed with an emotion Nina couldn’t quite recognise. She could almost swear there were tears in her eyes. Nina realised she didn’t even remember the last time she had seen her mother taking care of her appearance like that, and that finally having the chance to do it must be a source of melancholy as well as joy. Was that what a life dedicated to the care of a whole family had done to her? Had she forgotten herself to that degree?

“What are you looking at?” Maria asked gruffly, glancing at her daughter through the mirror.

How sweet. Nina pursed her lips to hide a sly grin, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Nothing.”

Her mother frowned, smoothing down her dress, then she turned around to face her. She looked at the ground for a moment, then back at Nina, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. “How do I look?”

A pang of sorrow spread in Nina’s chest at the thought that her mother might feel anything else but beautiful. “Stunning, mum,” she said truthfully.

“Is this too much?”

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s perfect.”

The older woman turned to the mirror again, her features softening. “Go downstairs, tell your father I’m almost ready.”

Reluctantly, Nina mustered up the courage to get out of her hiding, mechanical step after mechanical step, like a man facing the gallows. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to feel her relatives’ judgmental stares on her. She didn’t want to see Stefano. She didn’t want to watch Tommy and Agnese be officially presented as a couple. Husband and wife. It made her feel sick. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Tommy standing on top of the staircase, checking the time on his pocket watch, handsome in his formal attire.

His head shot up upon hearing the sound of her footsteps, and for a while it felt like the whole world had stopped turning just for him to have that moment. That moment to look at her, to take in the sight of her in her long, light blue dress that enhanced her tanned skin; with her ebony hair pinned up, exposing her delicate neck and cleavage, instead of hiding her as usual.

“You…” Tommy’s breath hitched in his throat, his mouth dry. You’re beautiful.

He didn’t dare say it.

“Hi,” Nina murmured, fidgeting with her own fingers. She had no idea of what to do or say. Standing there and staring at him like an idiot was clearly not an option, so she decided to approach the stairs. But one look at the long series of steps was enough for her to understand that there was no way she could descend it in her heels without making a fool of herself. Had she been alone, she would’ve gripped the railing like her life depended on it and ungracefully stomped her way down.

As if he had read her mind, Tommy offered her his arm without uttering a single word. He limited himself to peering at her, his gaze indecipherable, intense. Nina accepted his help, trying not to think about how natural it felt to have her hand in the crook of his elbow as they climbed down the stairs. Her legs were shaking, probably not because of the shoes, and she just hoped she wouldn’t trip over her feet and ruinously fall on her face. When she walked down the last step, she realised she had been holding her breath the whole time.

“Thank you,” she whispered, letting go of his arm.

Tommy nodded, taking a step back.

He needed a drink - or possibly two or three - to give him the strength to get through the night. Now more than ever he felt like he was putting handcuffs around his wrists rather than a ring on his finger. He had been telling himself that everything was going reasonably well, that following the plan which had been made over a month before was the best thing to do. He was going to marry the woman they had chosen for him, a beautiful woman, who would make him look good. Agnese was sweet, and gentle. She would take care of the house, of him, give him children. He would have a good life with her. She would bring him peace, turn his house into a safe place away from the wickedness of his business.

Nina would’ve brought him the storm. With her, a life of confrontation, of compromise, maybe even conflict would’ve awaited him. He would’ve had to answer to her, to accept her sharp edges and the sides of her that weren’t easy to deal with.

No, he was lying to himself. Confrontation, compromise, conflict had been his daily bread since he was a kid. His restless nature had never cared for peace. His skin was thick enough not to get cut on her edges. And pain had never scared him anyway. But that didn’t matter. The wedding would be in two weeks, then he would leave that place behind. Leave Nina behind. He’d forget about her like he had forgotten about Grace. He had done it once, he could do it again. Even if he’d prefer to rip his heart out of his chest.

For the engagement party, Agnese’s family had chosen to celebrate in the garden that surrounded the two houses. Everything had been planned with the outmost care: there were tables, flowers, candles, waiters balancing trays of champagne, musicians playing mesmerising tunes. A whole team of chefs had been hired for the delicious dinner. Nina had been pleased to find out that she wouldn’t have to share the table with Stefano, this time, who had sat with his family and other guests far away from her. Nevertheless, she had barely touched her food. Her stomach was still twisted from the events of the day. Now she was standing aside, watching as some couples gathered to dance. Including Tommy and Agnese.

They were both beautiful. Exceptionally so. Agnese was radiant in her ivory dress, she glowed with the happiness of a girl who was about to see all her dreams come true. Tommy held her in his arms with great gentleness as they swayed to the rhythm, and despite the vicious bites of jealousy, Nina was unable to look away. He’d fall in love with Agnese, of that she was sure. Her cousin was stunning, and sweet, and caring, all things Nina was not. Tommy would fall in love with Agnese and realise how blind he had been for ever setting his eyes on someone like her.

A tall figure came to stand by her side, and she was engulfed by the smell of a strong cologne mixed with cigar smoke. The man exuded an aura of power, dominance, along with a calm that was nothing more than a cover for something far more dangerous, unpredictable. Vito Spinietta. Her body tensed, and she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. Sending him a sideways glance, she was met with his calculating gaze. He was inspecting her, assessing her, searching for any weak point as though he could read into her.

“Good evening,” he said, not taking his eyes off her.

“Good evening.”

A heavy silence followed. Nina wasn’t a fool, she was aware that if Stefano’s brother had taken the trouble to go speak to her it wasn’t to make small talk. The heir to the Spinietta empire was too practical a man to waste his time on pleasantries, and certainly wasn’t there for the pleasure of her company.

“I know there’s no point beating around the bush with you,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “So I’ll be direct. I’m here on behalf of my brother.”

Nina tilted her head in amusement. Had it really become a family matter? Had a no on her part caused such commotion?

“Stefano’s a good guy,” he announced solemnly. “It’s just that sometimes he acts the wrong way.”

Nina had to hold back a dismissive laugh at his statement. A good guy. It was almost as pathetic as the excuse he had made up for his behaviour.

“What am I supposed to do with this information?”

“He cares about you.”

“So you’ve taken it upon yourself to play Cupid,” she said bitterly, with a little edge of sarcasm, earning herself a stern look. “It doesn’t suit you,” she shook her head, mocking him behind an expression that was meant to feign innocent honesty.

Vito raised his chin, reacting with silence to her insolent replies. “It would be good to unite the families, considering the circumstances,” he said instead. “And a rejection could be seen as…” he paused, searching her face. “An offence.”

His words had Nina knitting her eyebrows in a frown. He had pronounced them in an ambiguous, vague way, but she hadn’t missed the gloomy undertone. “Is this a threat?”

“What do you take me for?” he asked, clearly just pretending to be offended. “I’d never threaten a woman.”

He was playing the card of the man of honour. As if he and his brother hadn’t done even worse to the girls of the town. She had to say something now. Too long had she let Stefano scare her, she wouldn’t make the same mistake with Vito. The Spiniettas weren’t the only ones who got power, she came from a tough family as well, and she would no longer forget who she was.

“Listen,” she started, turning to properly look at him. “I’m not scared of you, or your brother, or your threats.”

Vito clenched his jaw, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

Nina took a step towards him, further decreasing the already short distance between them. “You two think you can do as you please because I am a woman?” she narrowed her eyes. “Think again. Cause one word from me and you’ll see your whole organisation fall around your ears.”

“Is this a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

Nina wanted to see his mask slip. She wanted him to reveal himself, like Stefano had revealed himself not so long ago, when he had put his hands on her in her own house. She wanted him to give her a reason to draw her knife on him, there, in front of everyone. But Vito wasn’t Stefano. It would take a lot more to make him lose his composure.

Vito took a step back, observing her. He could see why his brother was so adamant on having her. Stefano had always loved a good challenge. He didn’t want someone obedient by nature, someone who would listen to his every command. He wanted someone difficult, someone he could take his time to bend. Or break. It would’ve taken way more than a few slaps to break that one.

Their conversation came to an end when Stefano walked up to Nina, holding out his hand to her. “Wanna dance?”

Nina took a look around. Her situation hadn’t gone unnoticed: most of the guests had been peering at her and Vito, trying to figure out what was going on, and now that Stefano had entered the picture, they were sending them subtle glances, waiting to see if Nina would’ve accepted his invitation. Her first instinct was to say no, but leaving him there in front of everyone would cause quite the stir, and surely take the attention away from the new couple. That was Agnese’s night, and she didn’t have the right to ruin it for her. Not after what she had already done. So she placed her hand in his, and unwillingly let him lead her to the dance floor.

His hand was light on her waist as he lead the dance, yet that contact felt heavy, violent. It made her skin crawl. She focused on the ground behind his shoulders, trying to ignore the weight of people’s stares on them. She was afraid to raise her head and find out Tommy was watching too.

It didn’t take her long to detach herself from her surroundings. She didn’t hear the music, she didn’t see the couples dancing around them, she was only uncomfortably aware of Stefano’s proximity, of the heat of his body, of the burning marks his hands seemed to leave into her flesh. He had the predatory eyes of a raptor as he scrutinised the uncovered parts of her body, taking on the appearance of a beast waiting for the right moment to bite.

“I love you, Nina,” he whispered in her ear, his tone pleading. “I want to make you happy. I want to give you everything.”

Nina could read it on his face. He did think he loved her, he was truly convinced that his sick obsession was love. It’s wasn’t merely a matter of wounded ego, he was sincerely hurt in his own, twisted way. And that was something that could potentially make him even more dangerous. A shiver ran down her spine, but she forced herself not to shy away, and she let him speak without interrupting him.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes with you, and I want to fix them. Let me make it right.” His arm tightened around her as he brought her even closer. “I can be good to you.” There was desperation now in his voice. Nina tried to put some distance between them, but he didn’t let her. “I can be good to you, and you can be good to me. I’ll teach you how to be good to me.” His fingers curled around her hand in a painful grip. “Think about what we could be together. Say yes.”

Nina squeezed her eyes, overwhelmed by his insistent touch, his urgent words; disgusted by the image of them living in the same house that had forced itself into her mind; repulsed by his eagerness to mould her.

The music ended, bringing them back to reality. Nina was relieved to be able to pull away from Stefano, whose grip had finally loosened. He was out of his mind if he thought she could ever forget what he had done to her. A wave of rage ran through her, but she was careful not to let it show. Straightening her back, she looked him dead in the eyes, and just one word left her mouth.

“No.”

Stefano’s face fell, disappointment and anger battling in his irises, and his fist clenched by his side. However, Nina didn’t stay there to wait for a reaction. She turned on her heels and walked away from him, from the dance floor, from the crowd of nosy guests. Her inner turmoil grew with every step, and her state of panic was such that she didn’t even realise she had entered her house. With an irritated huff, she hastily fumbled with her impractical shoes and left them at the entrance, then sought refuge in her bedroom.

She took some deep breaths, rubbing her face. It felt like the more she tried to fix things, the more she made them worse, and there was no way out of that endless cycle. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to act? Who was she supposed to beg to drag her out of that situation? Because it was becoming clearer and clearer that she wouldn’t be able to make it by herself. When had things taken that turn? Had there been a mistake, a single, fateful mistake she had made that had caused all of that? Or was it someone else’s fault? Or was it no one’s fault?

Too many questions, not enough answers. Racking her brains to find a pattern, to put order to the events was useless. They were too tangled, too intricate. It hadn’t started when she had made love with Tommy, nor when he had kissed her, nor when he had appeared in her life. It hadn’t even started when she had pointed a knife at Stefano’s throat, nor when she had let him get close to her all those years ago at school. Had it started, perhaps, when she had insisted on studying? Was it her punishment for wanting more than she could have? More questions, still no answers. The worst thing was, she couldn’t see a way out.

There was a soft knocking on the open door, and when Nina turned around Tommy was there. He looked exhausted, as if the evening had drained him of all his energy. It was unusual to see him like that, he wasn’t the kind of man who let his distress show. For the first time, she realised how much the whole marriage situation had taken a toll on him.

If the reasonable part of her wanted him to leave, the other - the one she seemingly had no control over - needed him close to her. It was absurd how reassuring his presence felt. Maybe that was what had drawn her to him in the first place. When everything around her was swirling, when there was nothing certain or reliable, Tommy was stable, solid. Something to hold on to.

Nina forced those thoughts away. She was losing her mind. Tommy was the least stable thing in her life. He wasn’t there to stay, he would leave in two weeks time and she would never see him again, except for a few occasions, like Christmas or maybe weddings. Indulging in that kind of fantasy would only make things harder.

“Is this your plan?” Tommy suddenly asked, a hint of accusation leaking out of his neutral tone. “Say yes to Spinietta?”

Nina felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her, and her musings disappeared to give way to pure surprise. “What?” she asked in disbelief, widening her eyes.

“You heard me.”

“That’s ridiculous, I’d never do that.”

“Is that why you were dancing with him?” he raised his eyebrows, pointing at the door with his finger, as if Stefano were outside the room.

Nina shook her head, still not believing they were actually having that conversation. “You shouldn’t mix whiskey with champagne,” she said dryly, her voice coming out harsher than she had intended. But Tommy didn’t seem fazed by it.

“You looked rather intimate,” he noted with a touch of contempt, too upset to realise how preposterous his assumptions sounded.

Nina’s mouth fell agape. She hadn’t missed the inflection in his voice. Was he… jealous? She squinted her eyes, taking a step towards him. “What’s this?” she inquired.

Her question seemed to catch him off guard. He wavered, and an emotion difficult to define flashed across his features. It was more than simply pain. It was like all the resentment Tommy had harboured since that fateful afternoon was flowing out, inexorable, making him unable to think with a clear mind. Biting back was the only way he had to protect the feelings he had foolishly let show. Guilt ate at her stomach at the sight, and she had to remind herself she had done what she had done for him, before anyone else.

As if finally coming back to himself, Tommy clenched his jaw, and took on his usual, impassive expression. “I can’t believe you,” he murmured. “After everything he’s done to you.”

Nina nervously fidgeted with her fingers, not knowing how to make him see that he couldn’t be more wrong. Did he think so little of her? “I’m not..” she trailed off, torn between her sense of guilt and her pride. The latter took the upper hand. She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “You have no right to lecture me.”

“True,” he nodded. “I have no right. Cause what happened between us was a mistake and you don’t care about me.”

That was the point. That had always been the point. Tommy thought she had cruelly played him, maybe even used him, just to discard him when she didn’t want him anymore. She exhaled deeply, not meeting his eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s not like that,” he let out a humourless chuckle. “You said it, you’re taking it back now?”

“Stop it.”

“Eh?” Tommy’s voice raised, overlapping hers. “Are you taking it back?”

“I said stop.”

“You said-”

“I lied!” she snapped.

A tense silence fell in the room. Tommy blinked, and all the bitterness faded from his features. “Wha… what?” he stuttered, a confused frown forming on his face.

Nina didn’t regret her admission. She was so tired of pretending, of lying, of hurting him, and saying it out loud lifted a weight off her shoulders.

“I lied,” she repeated, more softly. “I never meant to hurt you. I…” her voice cracked. “I did it to protect you. To protect both of us.” There was no going back now. Her walls had been breached, and the words she had fought hard to keep to herself were leaving her lips before she had the chance to measure them. “Do you have any idea how much we’re risking? I’m risking? We talked about it, I told you how these things work.”

Tentatively, Tommy broke the distance between them, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up. “Is this what you’re scared of?” he asked incredulous, searching her face frantically, his frown deepening. “I’d never let anything bad happen to you. I’d never let anyone lay a fucking finger on you. You hear me?”

Nina believed him. He would stand between her and harm’s way without a second thought. But that was the problem. She took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over it before pulling it away from her face. “And what about you?”

“What?”

“Do you really think you could’ve changed your mind? That they would let you, at that point? You made your decision when you started courting Agnese.”

“Maybe they would’ve understood-”

“No. Her father would’ve wanted your head for humiliating his daughter. The deal would’ve been off and you would’ve been six feet underground in a matter of hours.”

And I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because of me, she wanted to add.

Tommy didn’t reply, but the pain in his eyes spoke for him. He knew she was right.

Nina gently stroked his cheek. “We never had a chance,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m not worth starting a war over.”

Tommy squeezed his eyelids, shaking his head as if to chase that unbearable thought away. Then, impetuously, he kicked the door shut and crushed his lips against hers. The force of the kiss knocked Nina’s breath out of her lungs, but she was quick to wrap her arms around his neck, pressing their bodies together.

Tommy backed her towards the dresser behind her, then he hoisted her up in his strong arms and sat her on it. A groan left his lips when Nina hooked a leg around him, bringing him even closer. His hands roamed down to her hips, gripping, squeezing, his tongue exploring her sweet mouth. He relished her warmth, her scent, her soft hands caressing his face, trying to imprint every little feeling into his memory. He wanted her, in the most raw, primal way. Because it was the only way he had to have her. Or at least, to delude himself he did. She was like water in his hands, she slipped through his fingers again and again, never letting him hold her, never letting him keep her. But with his fingers digging in her skin, she almost seemed real.

Pulling away to catch his breath, Tommy dropped his forehead into her neck, grabbing her waist. “You’re killing me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You’re fucking killing me.”

Tears began to stream down Nina’s cheeks. She felt like the worst person alive. She was causing so much pain, to him, to herself. She gently stroked the back of his head, sniffling. “You should go,” she compelled herself to say, although in that moment she wanted nothing more than for him to stay. “They’ll notice your absence.”

“They’re all drunk, they won’t,” he contradicted her.

“Agnese will.”

“She’s with her sisters.”

“But-”

Tommy’s head shot up to look at her, silencing her with his icy glare. “Fuck them,” he husked, wiping away her tears.

Fuck them.

Their mouths collided again. Blood rushed through Nina’s veins as Tommy kissed her hungrily. She could feel him everywhere, she was completely enveloped by him, by his smell of soap, whiskey and cigarettes, by the feeling of his rough hands, and yet she wanted more. She wanted to crumble and be brought into a new existence, to melt in his arms and become one heart, one body, one soul.

They only parted so she could help Tommy get free of his jacket. He was back on her right away, leaving a trail of kisses from her neck down to her chest, his teeth grazing the soft skin from time to time, making goosebumps ripple down her skin. He impatiently lifted her dress, fingers brushing against her smooth legs. More free to move, Nina allowed him more space, and her insides clenched with desire when she felt the bulge in his trousers against her.

Tommy’s hand ghosted over her clothed sex, making her squirm in anticipation. “Tommy,” she moaned, urging him to touch her where she needed the most. Pushing her underwear to the side, he slid two digits into her wet entrance, coaxing a sinful, beautiful sound out of her lips. Nina held onto his shoulders as he started to move his fingers, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Look at me,” Tommy commanded, cupping her chin with his free hand. Her eyelids fluttered open, showing him her glossy eyes filled with pleasure, causing his cock to painfully twitch.

He pumped his fingers in and out of her, working her open, eliciting small gasps from her that threatened to make him lose his mind. His thumb went to stroke her clit, the unexpected motion making her yelp.

Fuck, she was so beautiful.

“Tommy, please…” she whispered, clutching the soft material of his shirt. “I need you.”

She didn’t need to say it twice. Wasting no time, Tommy slid his fingers out of her to get rid of her knickers, discarding them somewhere on the floor, then fumbled with his trousers, finally freeing himself from all restraints. He grabbed Nina’s thighs, pulling her closer to the edge of the dresser so he could position himself between her folds, then he entered her with one swift thrust, burying himself inside of her. Nina hid her face in his shoulder, one hand coming to cup the nape of his neck, the other clutching the fabric of his shirt. Tommy began to rock his hips, firmly yet slowly, giving her the time to adjust to the feeling of him stretching her walls.

Nina clung onto him as if he could shield her from the unknown, as if he were a shelter, a place where she could forget, even for a moment, the uncertain future that awaited her. A future she tried to escape from, but the more she ran, the more she found it on her heels, ready to catch her, to drag her into the darkness that had been threatening her for years.

Tommy’s pace quickened, becoming more desperate, almost brutal, arms wrapped around her waist, bringing every inch of their bodies together. Nina was surprised to find that was exactly what she needed in that moment. It kept her anchored to him and only him.

“You feel so good,” Tommy growled, digging his fingers in her flesh, and her cheeks burned at his words.

He set a merciless rhythm, pounding into her with sharp thrusts. Nina barely recognised the sounds that were coming out of her, but she was too lost in her pleasure to be worried about them. Breath hitched in her throat when he reached a particular spot that made her see stars, and he hit it again and again, drawing shaky whimpers out of her. With each minute that passed she felt closer and closer to her release, and Tommy must’ve been aware of that too. She let out a strangled noise when he brought a finger to her swollen clit, the fire in her abdomen too much to bear.

“C’mon, love,” he rasped. “Cum for me.”

He drew small circles on her sensitive bud, pushing her over the edge. Her walls fluttered around his cock, shockwaves gripping her body as she came undone. Tommy kept on thrusting into her, hips ruthlessly snapping as he chased his climax, until with a last, powerful thrust, he emptied himself inside of her, grunting in her ear.

For a while, neither of them moved. They stayed in each other’s embrace, panting, savouring that ephemeral semblance of peace. Nina nuzzled her cheek against his, the comforting scent of his aftershave filling her nostrils. Neither of them seemed to intend to let go first.

God, she didn’t want to let him go. Before she could control them, tears filled Nina’s eyes again, and she tried her best to prevent them from falling. Why did it have to be so hard? Why did she have to fall for the one man she could never have? Why did her happiness have to cause so much damage? The most irrational part of it was that despite all of that, being in his arms felt like the rightest thing in the world. They perfectly moulded together like they had been created just fit into each other’s arms, to fill each other’s voids. Nothing she had ever felt could compare to it.

Eventually, they moved apart. They fixed their clothes in silence, pulling themselves together as best they could. Not that Nina cared at all. There was no way she was going back to the party. No one would notice anyway.

“Go,” she whispered, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen on his forehead. “They must be looking for you.”

Tommy gently cradled the back of her head, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll come to you later,” he promised.

Nina nodded, forcing herself to smile. But tears started flowing as soon as she watched him walk out the door.

Heart, Body and Sould tag list

@zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark

@kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring @goblinjnr @outlanderuniverse

@citylights31 @neonpurplestars89-blog @outlanderuniverse @red-riding-wood @evita-shelby

@look-at-the-soul @gathania93 @wonderlanddreamer @thelastemzy @meadows5

@emotionalcadaver

General tag list:

@iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella

@caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24

@kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat @areyenotfondofmelobster

@red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator

Tommy Shelby tag list:

@50svibes @bellabarnes1378

[magoapple]

Telling the kids they're going to be a big sibling

Paring: maknae line x reader / hyung line

Genre: marriage au

Warnings: some suggestive but mostly heart clenching fluff

Summary: You two decide to tell your older kid(s) that they're going to be a big brother/sister

HAN:

You were having a mother daughter day with your little girl, Ara. The two of you were having a little tea party when you started feeling sick. It started as your head hurting with a slight fever, and then you just couldn't handle it anymore. You grabbed your six-year-old and headed to the doctors. After you signed in and were waiting for the doctor, you called Jisung and let him know what was going on.

Jisung rushed over to the doctors as fast as he could. Chan had offered to drive him, but he had it in his mind he could make it there faster by running and catching a taxi. Jisung came rushing into the room and saw you shocked. “What my wife is sick, so I'm gonna be here, doctor, please continue.”

You let out a laugh, but winced when your head hurt. Ara went into her fathers arms and squeezed him. “Ewww daddy is all sweaty!”

"Well I was racing to get to you and mama baby. Ara let out a little giggle and the doctor cleared his throat. “As I was saying, Mrs. Han you seem to have a bad sinus cold, and you're 7 weeks pregnant, congratulations” Both you and Jisung we're shocked but still overjoyed while Little Ara was confused. “What does pregnant mean?” You both looked at each other with a smile before you spoke up. "Well baby it means you're going to be a big sister!"

FELIX:

Felix and you finally had time off from work and decided to take your son to Australia for a family vacation. Felix had just gotten off the phone with Olivia as you put Jae to bed. “Liv said everything is set and ready for when we get there,” he wrapped his arms around your waist as he told you everything his sister talked about. Felix's family have all met Jae, but he was a lot younger than he was now. The boy was almost three and getting so tall, each day he grew you would miss when he was a baby.

While the thought of a baby was on your mind, you remembered about the pregnancy test you took and the surprise waiting in Australia. The next day you finished packing everything while Felix tended to Jae. Once everything was done you guys were on the way to the airport. The flight wasn't that bad, it was the anticipation of what your husband and son would do when they found out the special news you had. Olivia picked you all up and drove you to the family house, where Felix's parents were waiting.

Everyone helped you get settled in and time flew by. You were all sitting at the dinner table and talking away when Mrs. Lee spoke up. “So Felix dear, how does it feel being a father to two?” Felix smiled at his mother's words before they actually registered in his mind. “It's everything I dreamed it would, wait two? Mom we just have Jae...” A confused Felix looked around and saw everyone smiling, even you.

“Baby, what's going on?” You stood up and handed him the sonogram photos and tears welled up in his eyes. “We're having another baby? Jae you're going to be a big brother! I'm having a son or daughter, we're pregnant!” He stood up and spun you around while everyone congratulated you two. Jae was too young to understand, but he saw everyone happy and clapped his hands squealing.

SEUNGMIN:

You were out with your mom when you took the pregnancy test, but that was about a month ago. You didn't know how to tell Seungmin or your son. Su-jin was only 10 months old so it wouldn't make that much of a difference to him, but your fiancé was a different story. You knew Seungmin wouldn't be opposed to having more kids, however another so soon? You didn't know how he would react.

It was about 9pm and Su-jin would not lay down. You were rocking him back and forth and talking to him, not realizing Seungmin had come home. “Little man, what am I going to tell daddy? You're gonna be a big brother and I know you're so excited, but what if he isn't.” Seungmin took a step forward and the floorboards creaked causing you to jump. “I didn't know you were home…"

“Did you say Su-jin will be a big brother?” When he saw you nod the brightest smile you've ever seen popped on his face and he rushed to hug you. Su-jin saw his dad and he squealed while making grabby hands. “Little man, you're going to be a big brother, the best big brother too.” You couldn't wait to see the cute things Su-jin would do with his new brother/sister.

JEONGIN:

You two were considered the babies of the couples. You were both adults yes, however you both were the youngest. When the other guys started bringing their kids to the practice room your heart grew big. You and Jeongin have only really talked about kids a few times but never seriously sitting down and talking. Jeongin noticed how your eyes lit up each time you say the kids and how much you volunteered to watch them.

Little did you know he was having baby fever just like you possibly even more. It got where you couldn't take it anymore and one weekend when he had off, you sat him down for a talk. “I know we haven't really talked, but Jeongin I want a baby. I know we're still young, but I believe we can do this.” His smile grew as he shared the same feelings as you did. That night ended perfect for the both of you.

So good that a month later you found out you were expecting. Of course, Jeongin was the first person you told, and he was over the moon. The little surprise you had didn't make it because he ran into the practice room yelling to everyone. "I'm gonna be a dad! You kids are going to have a little friend soon!" They all looked towards you once you made it inside for reassurance. "Yes, we're pregnant!"

◄Tumblrs system works on reblogs so if you'd like to support my content please reblog but do NOT feel obligated to►

[bilbao-song]

okay at long last (i wanted to do this at least a little sooner but by the end of last night i was so sleep deprived my brain was not functional): jeffrey in boston on the 23rd!!! (really in-depth PARAGRAPHS of rambling below the cut so you only have to look at it if u want to, otherwise just enjoy the photos lmao)

so. hmmmm what to say about this lmao (the first two paragraphs are probably least important here if u don't want to read All Of That)

all of this was like.....................a dream. like i know talking about this makes me sound like Insane Person Whose Life Revolves Around Concertgoing (although that's kind of just the truth tbh) but being THIS close was like...THE dream to me. or at least the most realistically attainable dream we got there a liiiittle after the opening band had started (they are pretty great btw? i approve. like i'm genuinely excited to see them lol) and i'm not sure what the problem was tbh!! we arrived at a perfectly reasonable time but then everyone got corralled into a giant line that like, looped around itself and wrapped around the block. so that took like ~25 minutes to get through. anywayyy i got one of the ???people who work there (there's a word for this that is escaping me atm) to help me find my seat bc things were of course a bit chaotic by that point and well...........that was a positively magical little jaunt as we got closer and closer and i just kind of lost my mind. my seat was in the third row riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight in the middle. like, perfectly in the middle. it could hardly have been any better :'))))

so! i sat there by myself which felt a little strange bc although i do like doing things on my own i have just never done this before. the only other concert i have been to where i sat basically by myself was like, a thing i got to go to bc someone gave me their extra ticket (air supply! which was fun but like, i only went bc it just came up. no disrespect to air supply lmao) and even then the person next to me was like, super nice and also clearly entertained by my dedication to older music (always exquisite to encounter someone who genuinely wants to hear about ur interests. like once you manage to convince me you're asking out of genuine interest the floodgates are OPEN) but anyway!!! the strangers in the elo mosh pit did not talk to me. this was fine but i was a tiny bit surprised bc everyone has been pretty chatty at the other ones i have been to...as an aside i was repeatedly given the impression that the people directly behind me were kind of mean (consistently not shutting up during the opening act, loudly making rude comments about them, just kind......whining a lot lmao) so i'm 100000% good with not talking to them lol

ANYWAY...onto the important part. sitting through the little intermission was excruciating and kind of went by too quickly bc i kind of did not want the concert to start bc the sooner it started the sooner it was over </3 but it was fun to be sooo close bc i enjoyed watching the crew set everything up and adjusting things and putting jeffrey's little table directly in front of me and whatnot 🥺 but then it started and it was like..............surreal. it quickly became clear that i really had chosen like the absolute perfect seat bc a) the two people in front of me were really short. thank god (the jackasses behind me were also at least a little taller than me so i'm happy for them and was not sorry for standing in front of them in my huge shoes) b) jeffrey directly in front of me. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) again this was like. SURREAL to me in a way bc it's just!!! the best yet and also 💕🥹💕🥹💕🥹 of course. i have been at least slightly pleasantly surprised by my seats at each one i've been to on this tour but even here i experienced that bc i did think i would be off to the side at least a tiiiiny bit...but no it was actually perfect. exquisite. like, i'm really truly not one of those overly-idolizing/Lose Your Mind Over Proximity To Famous Person types but well. i mean if you have read this far i'm sure you are already well aware of how i feel about him lmao

moving forward......bringing this up makes me feel weird bc it sounds so......well. you know. but ummmmm eye contact was definitely established repeatedly 🥺👉👈 looking at me and smiling adorably...........like, this is no exceptional credit to me or anything bc like...what else is he supposed to look at. i was very directly in his field of vision and significantly taller than the two people in front of me lol so he would have had to go to great lengths not to look at me at all. but ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my god???????? it was also kind of hilarious bc it did very muchly keep triggering my insane reflex to look AWAY from people when they make eye contact with me so i had to keep consciously correcting that bc like ????? HELLO lmao. but it was just!!!!!!!! very sweet!!!!!!!!! he was very smiley and adorable. typical...........i could opine on this further but i shan't at the risk of sounding insane. but like this alone was worth it to me sdjkhsjkhsd. felt Nice!!!!!!!!

anyway hmmm what else. well it was just spectacular but u already knew that. his voice has sounded remarkably perfect at each of these shows and that really stands out to me bc i just love that :') i also just love that he's repeatedly absolutely killing it, most importantly just because like, of course!! yay!! but also bc for awhile there was like, a cluster of very weird naysayers within the general community (which involved some kind of disgusting behavior imo but i won't go into detail about that bc like, why rehash it when it's both negative and profoundly ridiculous) and every single concert is just a really beautiful little I Told You So to those people which is SO satisfying to me bc i love to see that sort of thing getting thoroughly shut down and also slightly in part bc i love when i'm right and rude people who i don't like are wrong but that's as snarky as i will allow myself to be in an otherwise very happy post. <3 but i like. idk i just knew. and everyone else who isnt absolutely bonkers did too but well. etc etc etc

as a final note!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! idk i loved it. and i'm so glad that i get to go to the phoenix one as well bc although i'm already getting a little emo about this (........i was already a slight mess after the one in indianapolis tbh) i do think that's like, the only thing that's keeping me from losing it entirely lmao. i feel super lucky to have done all of this and i am having a very very very very very good time

[accio-sriracha]

"Will you read to me?"

A Wolfstar oneshot using 5 randomly generated words as prompts: Vehicle, Adoption, Ideology, Light, and Harp.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Remus sat on the sofa in the common room, content with the book in his hands and his tea sitting in front of him.

The boys were at quidditch practice, so he knew he would have a while to unwind and relax before-

"Honey! I'm home!" James' voice called as the portrait door swung open.

Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose,

"You ended practice early?" He asked, his attempt at lightheartedness failing miserably.

"Yup! More time to spend with you, Moony dearest." Sirius climbed through after him, plopping down on the sofa beside Remus.

"Hello, Moony." Peter smiled as the portrait closed behind them, "Whatcha reading?"

Remus placed his bookmark back within the pages, "I was reading Veronica Goth."

"Isn't that the Difference series?" James asked, sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of him and peering over his lap at the book.

"That would be the one, yes." Remus tried not to let his irritation show.

Sirius noticed, always overly perceptive,

"Hey guys? Can I talk to Moons alone for a second?" He asked.

James shrugged, standing up and slinging his arm around Peter's shoulders,

"Sure thing, Pete and I have an exploding snaps rematch due any minute now." He smirked, dragging Peter up the stairs.

The silence that followed made Remus let out a quiet breath of relief.

"Was it the noise or just our presence?" Sirius asked after a long moment, he didn't look offended, only concerned.

Remus leaned his head back against the sofa, "Am I a terrible person if I say both?"

Sirius shook his head, "You have way too much to stress about in your life, you deserve a break to relax every now and then. You know we won't hold it against you."

"I do love you guys, I swear-" He started, the familiar guilt already weighing him down. Sirius placed a hand on his arm, stopping him,

"Remus, don't. We love you too, and we know how much you care about us. This isn't about that, it's about you getting rest."

His voice was stern, his gaze could have rivaled even McGonagall's.

"I'm sorry, I know." Remus whispered, "Thank you."

Sirius nodded and pulled his hand away, "Anytime, Moony. Really, I mean it."

Remus took a sip of his tea, which was starting to get cold. Sirius didn't have to ask, casting a warmth charm over it as Remus set it back down on the table.

"How do you always know what I'm thinking?" Remus asked, "It's like you can read my mind."

"You have very expressive eyes." Sirius answered, shrugging, "So I guess, in a way, I kind of can."

Remus smiled at him, nudging their shoulders together, "Thank you." He said again.

Sirius gestured towards the book,

"What part are you on?" He asked. Remus looked down,

"They're taking the vehicles back to Chicago." He replied, opening the book and turning it for him to see.

"Is a broomstick technically a vehicle?" Sirius asked, frowning in thought.

Remus gave a surprised laugh, "Um... well, yes. Any method of transportation is. But that only applies to our kind of broomsticks."

"So... with magic, isn't everything a vehicle?" Sirius asked, cocking his head to the side.

Remus always found it amusing when he looked like this, he truly was his animagious in every form.

"It would only be considered such after it as been given the ability to transport something, but yeah." Remus nodded, "I suppose you could say the same for adding wheels to things."

Sirius nodded, satisfied, "Will you read to me?" He asked quietly.

This surprised Remus, Sirius had never asked him that before. He nodded anyways, relaxing into the couch again and watching Sirius curl up into a ball, staring at him expectantly.

He read the first few paragraphs, glancing every other sentence at Sirius to see if he was still listening. He was.

After he'd gotten through two pages, he had to admit he was decently impressed.

"You never sit through lessons like this." Remus commented. Sirius shrugged,

"I like the way you talk." He yawned, stretching his arms over his head, "It's very relaxing."

Sirius' slow blinks and unguarded expression seemed out of place on him, he was usually so tense and ready for action.

Remus found he liked him like this, it was... sweet.

"Did you want me to continue reading?" Remus asked. Sirius nodded, adjusting himself so he leaned against Remus' shoulder, reading the page along with him,

"Yes, please." He mumbled sleepily.

Remus continued, no longer pausing to check if Sirius was paying attention.

After he'd gotten through the next few pages he was positive Sirius had fallen asleep. But then he spoke,

"Do you ever think about adoption?" He whispered. Remus looked down at him,

"Adoption?" He repeated.

Sirius nodded, "Yeah, I think it would be nice to adopt a kid."

"Why don't you want to have one yourself?" Remus asked, keeping his voice gentle so he wouldn't disturb this peace.

Sirius hummed and nuzzled closer to him, pressing his face to Remus' chest.

Remus didn't dare to breath, he waited without moving as Sirius' muffled reply came,

"I want to give someone another chance. I want to give them a better life."

Remus nodded. Carefully, slowly, he placed a hand on Sirius' back.

Sirius didn't shake him off, he only turned and wiggled closer until his head was resting in Remus' lap, curled up on his side.

Hesitantly, Remus ran a hand through Sirius' hair. He knew he shouldn't have, Sirius never let anyone touch his hair, but something in his mind told him it was the right thing to do.

And it was, Sirius let out a content sigh and closed his eyes again.

"It might be something to consider." Remus whispered, referring to their conversation. He gently combed through Sirius' hair with his fingers, amazed by how soft it was, even after they'd just gotten back from practice.

"Yeah, I mean-" He paused to yawn again, "What's the harm in it, right?"

Remus chuckled, "Well I think that phrase may have been spoiled for us now. There's usually some damage that follows it."

Sirius sighed, "Maybe. But a little more risk won't kill anyone."

Remus smiled, watching the way his expression softened and how his shoulders relaxed entirely,

"It's that kind of ideology that got us stuck in those problems in the first place." He reminded him, "But in this scenerio..."

He thought about a young child who'd been brought into the world and abandoned one way or another. He thought about giving that child a home, a new life as Sirius had put it.

"I think it's worth a little risk." He agreed.

And something about this, something about the way Sirius trusted him completely, let him touch where no would else was allowed, let him watch over him and dropped his guard when he never had before.

It made Remus feel something strange.

Sirius was... well, he was beautiful. There was never any question to that.

The way the light draped across him from the fireplace was an art of itself. Remus was- and he never thought he would describe himself as such- totally enamored.

"I think its worth it." Sirius mumbled, "I want to play songs for them and read them stories."

"You'll sing for them?" Remus asked, smiling fondly down at Sirius. He nodded,

"Yeah. When I was young my mother made me take piano lessons, and sometimes I would be taught to play the harp. So I think it would be nice if I could play for my kid someday."

"That's really nice, Sirius." Remus continued petting his hair. Eventually, Sirius turned again so he stared up at him, long black strands laid in a halo around his head,

"Can you keep reading to me?" Sirius asked quietly. Remus nodded,

"Yeah, of course." He picked up the book again, keeping his voice as soft as he could manage and starting where he left off.

Sirius fell asleep to the sound of Remus' voice and the feeling of his fingers in his hair.

Remus kept reading even after he'd fallen asleep. He was just so happy and content he didn't want it all to end.

When James and Peter came down to check on them some time later they walked out to this scene, to Remus' eyes filled with newfound love and adoration. To Sirius' smile in his sleep as he curled up in Remus' lap. The fireplace had long since died out, leaving the gentle cadence of Remus' voice to be the only sound in the room.

James and Peter took the hint, sneaking quietly back up the stairs to give them privacy, happy their friends had finally found each other.

Because they deserved it. They deserved the peace and lifetime of love they knew this relationship would bring.

On their way up the stairs, quick enough that you would miss it in a blink, James and Peter's hands exchanged a few sickles.

And never again did Sirius fall asleep to anything but the sound of Remus' voice, or the feeling of his hands combing through his hair. And that was perfectly fine by him.

[voxofthevoid]

i know that this may be a bit rude to ask, but i was wondering if you had any rough outlines for the various abo fic concepts that you had? omega gojo and alpha yuji is a really rare treat but i enjoy that a lot...

thank you for reading, and sorry if this is impolite

It's not rude at all, hon 💗

Honestly, I'm always happy to yap about my fics, ideas, outlines, etc., and I'm glad you're interested in the omegaverse ones!

(Also, heads up: a/b/o without the slashes is a slur for Aboriginal Australians. The slash version and "omegaverse" are more acceptable versions.)

A lot of my omegaverse ideas are alpha/alpha. These are the alpha/omega ones:

Omegaverse-canonverse alpha/omega with old man porn. Gojou’s going through the omega version of menopause, starts lactating due to hormone fluctuations, and Yuuji turns out to like that way too much.

Canonverse omegaverse with alpha!Yuuji and omega!Gojou, where Yuuji’s hormones and pheromones go a bit out of control during class, culminating in him eating Gojou out and then fucking him over the desk.

Omegaverse-canonverse alpha/omega where Gojou goes into heat during the basement days, and instead of doing something sane, he deliberately triggers Yuuji’s first rut.

My current outline for #1 is very short, while the others are longer. The short one is below; the other two are under the cut.

CWs: Along with standard goyuu warnings, we have lactation (#1), semi-public sex (#2), and noncon (#3)

1. biology will mix the cocktail of a lifetime

Omega!Gojou reaches the omega version of menopause. Hormonal imbalance makes him start lactating. Yuuji's into it. It's a problem how much Yuuji's into it. Lots of sucking on Gojou's tits through his shirt and t-shirt till he's sore and whining and dripping wet. Throw in sex. Maybe a premature heat. Discussions of Gojou no longer being able to keep up with Yuuji's ruts, and Yuuji going, "You don't need a heat to take me."

2. black lace on sweat

Established alpha/omega goyuu in a canonverse no-Shibuya setting. Gojou taking a class with the first and second years because Kusakabe is on vacation or something. Yuuji getting increasingly flushed and pheromonal throughout the class, to the point everyone else is kind of squirming. Gojou giving him a verbal prod and Yuuji snapping out of it to slap a suppressant patch on himself. Class continues, Gojou running on autopilot while he's more and more fixated on Yuuji—breathing in deeply to try and snag his scent, getting wet to the point he's sure it's soaking into his pants. He'd need a patch too except using Limitless to suppress his scent was one of the first things he learned.

After the class ends, he dismisses them, and Nobara asks Yuuji why he's not coming, and Yuuji just sinks deeper into the seat and says he'll be out in a bit. Nobara just goes "gross", looks at Gojou and says "both of you." Realization dawning on even the second years' faces. Everyone exiting posthaste, maybe Megumi dawdling and Gojou finally letting his scent out in a territorial display. Yuuji groans, distinctly sexual, and Megumi books it.

Gojou asking Yuuji "need it already huh," and Yuuji basically sinking his fingers into the wood and begging in the way of someone who's only doing it to be polite—like he'll take what he wants anyway. Gojou predictably gets wetter at that.

Sex with him calling Yuuji over and Yuuji practically tearing Gojou's pants off to get to his ass. Gojou makes him kneel and kind of rubs himself ass over Yuuji's face and mouth, until Yuuji grabs his hips to hold him in place and eat him out. Goes on till Gojou comes and then after, till his legs are trembling and it feels like it's Yuuji's face holding him up. 

Gojou getting bent over the table and fucked and knotted. Possible breeding kink. Yuuji getting some clarity after the knot pops, apologizing, and Gojou saying he should've known mating a teenage alpha would be trouble.

3. sacrifice your consent for me

Brief sparring scene where Gojou pins Yuuji down for a little too long, stares a little too intently, breathes a little too deeply.

Post-dinner washing up. G crowds Y from behind, very calmly asks Y's an alpha isn't he, and Y says yeah he will be—what in the world is G doing? G burying his nose behind Yuuji's ear and dragging it down to his inactive scent glands—still a sensitive erogenous spot. Sucks on it. Yuuji's having a Time, especially with how he can feel all of Gojou pressed up behind him. Gropey Gojou Galore: hands under Yuuji's shirt, face all over his hair and neck. Yuuji's realization he's scent marking. Stuttered question of what Gojou's designation is, Gojou only saying Yuuji knows the answer. Turns Yuuji around to kiss him—not Yuuji's first kiss but it is his first time someone's trying to crawl into him through his mouth. Gojou dropping to his knees, panting into Yuuji's stomach while working his pants off. Sloppy blowjob. Yuuji's hand trying to push Gojou away becoming a hand keeping him there. It's all fun and nice until Yuuji comes and Gojou just doesn't stop (Gojou's aim: get Yuuji to release enough pheromones to sate his preheat and kickstart the actual heat, which is harder than it'd be with a grown alpha because Yuuji hasn't presented yet). Overstimulation to the point of Yuuji clawing up Gojou's shoulders. After, Gojou jerking off with his nose buried in the scent glands at Yuuji's thigh. Y passing out and waking in Gojou's bed. 

Yuuji will wake up to Gojou cuddling him in a whole nest of blankets and kinda go "it's too hot" where hot is a stand-in for all the ways in which this is fucked up, and Gojou shushes him and does that thing in Ep 2 where he knocks Yuuji out. Next time Yuuji wakes up, Gojou's already going to town on him. Considering making Sukuna also an omega in this for shits and giggles—namely, Sukuna–Gojou parallel with Sukuna saying he wouldn't have been as gentle as Gojou is currently being 

Yuuji practically begging Gojou to give his overworked dick a break and Gojou putting his whole hole on Yuuji's face, and Yuuji's hormones going haywire again at the slick+scent+come combo.

Yuuji can't knot Gojou. Gojou's solution once he's far enough into the heat is to force Yuuji's whole fist into him and also hold Yuuji down there on his dick. Gojou essentially using to get off like that three to four times, and Yuuji flushed and teary and numb by the time he’s allowed to pull away.

Gojou bites Yuuji during his heat because he's insane, and he doesn't register Yuuji's rut setting in until Yuuji bites back. The mating bite is what finally pushes Yuuji over. Too late for Gojou to back out.

[digitalbeachrave]

I don’t like to complain* but every convention/event/fair I’ve been to this year had people packed in like sardines, couldn’t walk without knocking into someone, almost makes me miss the lockdown days where you’d go somewhere (train carriages empty so you’d feel like royalty being privately chauffeured) and there’d just be like three other people timidly walking around

(*I’m lying, I fucking love to complain)

[nyxpheros]

Soon...

[tired-spider]

I'm realizing why it might have been a bad idea to write my first long campaign using a game system I've never written a oneshot for.

[train-heartnet-xiii]

my dad had an appointment with his urologist today and they checked his bladder. it looks like the cancer is gone.

yay!

now, he’s got another bladder checkup in 4 months to make sure it isn’t coming back plus he’s going to get once a month bladder treatments for the next 1-2 years to help make sure it stays away, but this is good. he’s apparently cancer free and his health is improving which means I can rest up soon.

[nochepsicodelica]

"All those drinks are gonna do you dirty, ma. You're gonna throw up if you don't get some food in your system, so eat," Toji says, pushing the box closer to you.

You giggle at his serious face, before standing up from your chair for the fourth time, trying to go around him. Toji's used to this by now and stands up, bringing you back down to your chair.

"Stop getting up and eat your food. You literally begged for this. Why aren't you eating it?"

"Why aren't you eating it?" You return, raising your brows at him, seductively. It doesn't come off too sexy when raising your eyebrows makes you immediately squint because of the light going into your sensitive eyes, but it does lure a chuckle out of Toji.

"I'm ignoring that. Just eat. I don't wanna hear you upchucking in a couple hours."

"You won't hold my hair back?" You pout. Your feigned little flash of sadness produces real tears in this state, so it's a little confusing for Toji when you start giggling while wiping at your reddened cheeks.

"Your food's getting cold. I know how you are about reheating fast food, so eat it before it goes to waste."

You smile at him, your eyelids almost completely shut in your drunken daze. Toji can't even lie, it's cute. It's the only reason he's not up the wall about this little situation. Then you decide to drop a bomb on him.

"I'm not hungry anymore. Too tired to eat." You rest your chin on your palm, shutting your eyes. It feels nice. It would take less than thirty seconds for you to fall asleep.

Fuck. Think, think, think...

"Hey." Toji pokes your forehead, lightly, earning a hum and a furrow of your brows. "What if I feed you?"

You laugh, giddily. "Ooo, you trying to romance me?"

"Sure, if you eat."

You laugh again. "Toji, you dog, you. I'm not putting out." You shake your head, eyes closed with a dumb grin on your face. "No, sir. It's food and then goodnight for me."

"You already put out for me, earlier, doll." He smirks at the way you blush, clearly having an 'oh, yeah...' moment. "Eat some more so we can go to sleep."

"Hm?" You hum, rolling your eyes open after your blink of sleep. You crack a grin as soon as you look at Toji. "You wanna kiss me sooo bad. Look at you."

"I'm not gonna kiss you. You're not listening. You think you deserve kisses for that?"

"Uh... yes? I mean no. Pshhh, nooo. Of course, not."

"That's right. So eat, or you'll go to sleep without kisses, tonight."

"Noooo," you whine, dramatically. "Wait! Fine, fine. Look." You take a huge bite of your sandwich, your cheeks puffing up as you chew. "Oh, this is really good," you say, muffled by your mouthful of food.

"Don't choke, doll. Small bites are fine," he says, picking up a napkin and wiping the excess condiments off your face.

You push through it and gulp down the bite. "That was a lot. Got bread stuck on the roof of my mouth." You take a sip of your drink to wash it all down. "Did I look so pretty for the party, today?" You ask, your lips curling as you put the cup back down.

"You did, mama. Stunning. Swept everyone there, off their feet."

You smile, the gesture transitioning into a giggle. "Even Shiu?"

"Yup. Even Shiu said he wanted a piece of you."

You gasp. "No... Did you fight him?"

"Nah, I wanted to, but I kept my cool. If he had put his hands on you, then I might have, but I had my eye on you all night, to make sure nobody did more than look at you."

"I wouldn't have followed him anywhere, anyway." You roll your eyes, suddenly so hostile against the host of the party. "Probably would've kicked him in the nuts and gone to find you."

"Yeah, that's a smart idea, doll."

Toji's elaborate answers to your questions kept you awake long enough for you to mindlessly eat while he talked. You were at the end of the sandwich when you realized how much you had eaten and how full you were.

"Can't... do it..." You groan, lying on the arm you have extended on the table. "Too full." You sigh, heavily, setting the rest of the sandwich down on the scattered fries in its box.

"That's good, ma. You don't have to eat it, anymore. We can go to bed, now."

You let out another heavy sigh, sluggishness washing over you before you force yourself to stand up from your chair, this time with Toji's 'okay'. He looks at your little belly as it protrudes from your dress, proof of how full you actually are, and pokes at it. Your usually soft tummy is temporarily stiff and it's adorable.

You grab Toji's hand so that you don't stumble as you walk. Before leaving the table, he finished the remainder of your sandwich in one bite and threw out the container with the remaining cold fries.

"Damn, you were right, baby. That was good."

"Mhm," you mumble, waiting for him to lead you to the room.

Toji helped you brush your teeth and wash your face, and when you finally made it to the room, he helped you dress down into comfier clothes. Now, you're in bed together and you're in his arms trying to doze off, but you can't with the way he's smothering your face with kisses. It's just kiss after kiss with him and you can't focus, but It is what you wanted. After all, you stuffed your face for this.