wonderjanga · 22 days ago
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League Money
So, like in this AU, every leaguer gets like this little allowance from Batman for stuff they need as superheroes. Now, Billy���s never used the fund, as Marvel doesn’t really need food, or water, or anything like that. He’s never thought to use it for himself because “that’d be wrong”. But one day:
Marvel: “Flash, how was your day?” Flash: “It was good. I got some groceries with the trust fund Spooky gave us.”
Marvel: “Wait what? You can do that?” *whispering like this is some dirty secret*
Flash: “Uh… Yeah? Hal used it last week to get hair gel. Bats never said anything, so I’m pretty sure it’s fine.”
Marvel: “Oh.” *remembers the many winters he nearly starved to death in* “Okay.”
Later…
*Marvel now back as Billy, is arm deep, rummaging through his pocket dimension*
Billy: *grabs onto something* “There you are!” *pulls out shiny credit card and looks at it in awe*
This single credit card held his league money.
Billy: *looks over to his little stash of food. Rats had eaten it all recently. Looks back to the card* “This is a bad idea.” *stands up and starts heading to his door, shoving the card in his pocket* “This a really bad idea.”
*Billy walks to the grocery store and enters, ignoring the concerned look from the cashier wondering why a little kid came into the store alone*
Billy: *grabs a cart and grabs a bunch of nonperishables, all with a guilty look cause he feels bad about spending the money on himself. Rolls up to the cashier*
Cashier: “Uh… Hey, little guy.” *little wave* “Is your dad nearby?” *looks around for literally any parental figure*
Billy: “Yeah, he’s outside.” *still looks guilty*
Cashier: “Oh, okay.” *still looks a little concerned but starts scanning items* “Is your school doing a canned food drive?” *eyes the various cans as they scan them*
Billy: “Uh… Yes.” *takes out the credit card and hands it to the cashier because he’s too short to reach the scanner without standing on his tip toes*
Cashier: *scans the card for him* “It declined.”
Billy: “What? Can you try again?” *does not want to inconvenience this poor cashier by making them put all the cans away*
Cashier: *Swipes the card again and it once again declines* (Marvel needs to be the one to swipe it, the average Joe, including Billy, can’t cause Batman did some freaky stuff and made it so that only the person the card belongs to can make it work. Billy didn’t know.) “It declined again. Why don’t you go get your dad or mom? I’ll hold your stuff.”
Other customers in line: *groans of annoyance*
Billy: “I’ll try!” *Runs out of store panicking. Runs to an alley and shazams into Marvel*
Marvel: *still panicking, whips out a spell that changes his suit into civvies. Runs back as fast as a normal human can. Enters store and speed walks as calmly as he can back to cashier* “Sorry. My- uh son told me the card wasn’t working?”
Cashier: *jaw drops when they see Captain Marvel walk through the door in normal clothes*
Other customers in line: *jaws also drop*
Marvel: “Uhm… My card?” *holds hand out for it*
Cashier: *uses one hand to close jaw back up and with the other hand, gives the card to Marvel* “Right. It declined a couple times.”
Marvel: “Really?” *swipes it and it accepts* (Billy was jumping in joy inside) “Would you look at that? Must’ve been a fluke.”
Cashier: *still a little speechless at Captain Marvel being in front of him in civilian clothes. Also that little kid was the Captain’s kid?* “Sorry.”
Marvel: “For what? I doubt it was your fault.” *walks over to grab the bags of cans* “Thanks for helping my kid.” *gives cashier signature sunny smile before walking out of the store, then promptly sprinting home*
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magniloquent-raven · 2 months ago
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this post has been haunting me. i'm weak for beefy men in pretty underwear and @theweewooshow left an open invitation in the tags that i could not resist 😭 i was gonna say i can't believe this is the first fic i'm posting about these two, but honestly it kind of tracks.
hope yall enjoy!!
**
One of the things Tommy's always liked about Evan is how emotional he is. Expressive, is the word, maybe. Vibrant. It was one of the first things he noticed when they met. Poor kid was radiating nerves. The way his hands fidgeted in his pockets, and he wouldn't stop pacing while Tommy was double-checking their gear.
It's kind of fascinating to Tommy, watching Evan light up when he's happy, wilt when he's tired, always seeming to feel every emotion with his entire body.
All that to say...Tommy notices right away that something's up. There's a tiny, reactive part of him that wants to say wrong, something's wrong, but Evan's not pulling away, he just. Froze up for a second. It could've been a twinge in his bad leg when he climbed into Tommy's lap, or any number of other blips that won't completely derail the nice evening they're having.
But on the off chance...
Tommy carefully rearranges his grip, settling his hands comfortably on the small of Evan's back instead. "Everything okay?" He keeps his tone as light as his touch, and watches Evan's expression closely. Their eyes meet only briefly.
"No, uh, yeah." Evan's gaze skitters down, roaming Tommy's face, then darting away. "I, um." He grimaces, and shifts in place. The warm weight of his thighs is distracting. He's still a solid presence in Tommy's lap, and making no move to change that, despite his sudden singular focus on toying with the drawstring of Tommy's sweater.
The corners of his mouth are pursed into a frown that Tommy thinks about kissing away. That thought gets gently pushed to the side. Talking first, he reminds himself. Especially because... "If you're not in the mood anymore, that's okay."
Those—pink, perfect, God—lips part around a huff, half-curved into a grin. "That's kind of the opposite of the problem," he laughs.
Tommy can't help but mirror the smile, even if it's only a tiny one. "So, what is the problem?" He trails his fingertips up the line of Evan's spine, and down again, retracing the path when he feels Evan lean into the touch.
"It's...well, not hard to explain, exactly, but. I kinda wasn't expecting to explain..." He sighs, loud and exaggerated, and falls forward to plant his face in the crook of Tommy's neck, where he continues, slightly muffled, "How do you feel about lace?"
It's not what he was expecting to hear. Though, he's not sure what he was expecting. "Can't say I've thought much about it, to be honest."
He dated a girl back in the day who liked lingerie. She was always asking him what he thought about various scraps of silk and velvet, and it was all...very awkward. He always told her he'd like her just as much in cheap cotton and a borrowed t-shirt, which. In retrospect, was ironically true. When she broke up with him she accused him of being cold. Withholding. He brushed it off as neediness on her part.
He suppresses a wince at the memory.
Evan wraps Tommy's drawstring around his index finger, slowly curling it around his knuckle. "My ex. Taylor. She liked it. She liked...me. In it."
...Oh?
He can't picture it. Not in a bad way, he's not put off by the idea—very much the opposite—but when he tries, the mental image just...blurs. His brain is trying to mesh Evan with his hazy memories of things he never paid much attention to, and it's coming up frustratingly empty.
Tommy is very proud of how calm and steady he sounds when he says, “And…this was something you liked too?”
Warm air tickles the underside of his jaw. “Yeah.”
“Okay. Why are you telling me this now?” He feels like there’s something he’s missing. Something obvious he should have realized, if only he wasn’t so preoccupied with the way Evan’s thighs are flexing, his hand sneaking under the hem of Tommy’s hoodie, skin-to-skin, palm skimming his side, and the hot, tingling press of mouth-on-neck.
“Wanna find out?”
The second he nods he almost wishes he hadn’t, because all at once Evan is gone, and Tommy’s left sitting on his couch in a horny daze, blinking up at his slyly grinning boyfriend. As nice as the view is, his lap is cold now.
Evan thumbs his waistband. There’s excitement sparkling in his eyes, bright and shining, but he hesitates a moment before taking a deep breath and dropping his shorts around his ankles.
Oh.
So…lace. Tommy’s having feelings about lace. Not much in the way of thoughts yet. But feelings, definitely. The sudden rush of heat that burns through him leaves him a little light-headed, all the blood in his veins fizzing like he’s a can of soda someone just popped the tab on. His fingers itch to reach out, he aches with want, desire pooling low in his gut.
Thing is, they’re not even anything too fancy, as far as Tommy can tell. He has vague memories of his ex—and good God does he suddenly feel like he owes her even more of an apology—in complicated woven ribbons and things that probably looked like a crate of bungee cords in whatever bag they came in. Evan is just wearing…panties. Simple, pale blue, lacy panties. There’s a little bow on the front, and it’s unreasonably cute.
Evan hikes up his t-shirt a little, so Tommy can get a better look, presumably. Which he appreciates. He’s losing his mind a little over the trail of light blond hair under his belly button disappearing into soft blue lace. He wants to follow it with his tongue.
The attention is making Evan hard. Tommy’s not sure what his face is doing exactly, but whatever it is, Evan seems to appreciate it. He’s filling out that pouch in the front so fucking well, it’s making Tommy’s mouth water.
“So, uh. Good?” Christ, he sounds breathless and Tommy hasn’t even touched him yet.
It takes all of Tommy’s willpower to drag his gaze up to Evan’s face, but it’s worth the effort. His cheeks are flushed a happy pink, creased by a grin he’s failing to restrain even with his bottom lip trapped by his teeth. The blue in his eyes is a nearly-invisible ring around his dilated pupils, and shadowed by his heavy-lidded expression.
“Evan,” he says, a little hoarse. It’s all he can say without laughing hysterically at the sheer understatement of good. Without telling Evan, in detail, exactly how badly he needs to suck him off through that fabric. How vividly he’s imagining what it would feel like against his own cock, wondering if he could cum just from rutting against Evan’s lace-clad ass while he squirms and begs to be fucked properly.
And more importantly, it’s all he needs to say.
The rest he can just show him.
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little-forest-goblin · 20 days ago
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Soft touches, silent roads
Warnings: Smut MDNI 18+
Contains: oral (f and m receiving), p in v, dirty talk, light choking (very brief) praise, mostly soft dom five (There is a little roughness), face fucking, cum eating, creampie (i hate the word too), car sex, bad writing, grammatical errors
Synopsis: You and five were at graces birthday party. You and him haven’t seen each other in a long time so there is a lot of unspoken things between you and him especially the unspoken love and desire between you and him that was never addressed properly. (The events of the fourth season never occurred)
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The birthday party was all out which was really sweet of Diego and Lila. The kids were having so much fun which was even sweeter. Lila’s family was very kind too. It was odd seeing the family after a long while. Especially poor Klaus who was a raging germaphobe and extremely sober. which the sober part isn’t a bad thing but the germaphobic tendencies is a little bit odd. No matter you’re just glad he is getting himself mostly together. Luther was what he called “A professional dancer” which obviously was not true but you know what…good for him. There was Allison worried and scared that everybody hated her. Viktor was kinda off to the side since he didn’t really want anything to do with any of us which you guess kinda makes sense after the shit we’ve been through. you cant blame him completely for not wanting anything to do with us but its nice to know he cares still to show up. Ben was sulking about just getting out of jail and about his “Business”. You really just hope he will get his shit together. Then lo and behold there was five. The one man you were nervous to talk to. The one that made your heart race and your face flush. You haven’t spoken to him in a long time. Life caught up to you, you were healing from trauma and getting your own shit together. That being said he was always on your mind no matter how hard you tried to push him or the thoughts away. It was always a haunting thought in the back of your mind. A space just for him that was rent free. You looked over to him and to your surprise you caught him looking at you. His own eyes went a little wide with nervousness and looked away sipping his beer and looked back into the ball-pit where luther tried to scare him and ben. You felt your face flush and you looked away.
After a ruined back and a piñata issue it was time for everyone to go home. Sadly your car was being the biggest asshole of the day cause it decided to break down the day before. You had to take a uber which was scary at this time of night. You walked out the doors and leaned against the wall of the building. You went onto your phone to look for an uber when five came out he saw you and came on over “Hey” you looked to him your face flushing as you saw those piercing green eyes “H-hey” he chuckled and leaned against the wall his arms crossed “What are you doing? Aren’t you gonna head home?” you sighed and shut pff your phone putting it in your pocket “My car broke down yesterday. The hunk of junk had to be a paid actor cause that was to perfectly timed.” he smiled “So what gives?” you sighed “Im getting an uber. It may not be the safest but i need to go home somehow.” he nodded. it was silent for a minute as he looked at you his eyes traveling down then up at your face again trying to stay calm but if you looked close you’d notice he swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. “You can ride with me” you look at him wide eyed “Wait what?” he looked at your eyes “Yeah you can ride with me. I don’t want you getting hurt or worse.” you bit your lip nervously “no no its okay i-“ five cut you off before you could say anything else “No i insist come on” he took your hand and gently led you to his car almost seeming eager. Your hand in his, skin against skin sent electricity through you and a shiver down your spine. You almost wanted to kick yourself cause it was such a simple touch. How the hell are you getting so worked up over such a simple god damn touch! is…is he getting worked up too? Is he feeling the same? You let him lead you to his car. He opens the passenger side for you “After you, princess” he smiled you chuckled and got into the car “My, what a gentleman!” he laughed and closed the door and got into the driver seat.
You and him have been driving for some time. At some point during the night drive home it began to rain. You looked to him his hands gripping the steering wheel. it was almost white knuckled how hard he was holding it. You swallowed as your eyes traveled over the veins in his hands. they were prominent and an indicator of what hid under his suit. you looked to his face his eyes slightly squinted to look out the glass windshield past the rain and slight fogging. his lips and nose those piercing green eyes and hair that made your insides flutter. You always were weak when it came to this man. he glanced to you and back to the road. “Whats with that look for?” you blushed lightly and looked back out the window “nothing.” the rain started to come down harder and tension built until the glass fogged up to much and the rain poured a little to hard. “Fuck it” he pulled into an empty lot and parked the car. you looked at him confused “woah hey wha-“ he unbuckled and turned to you “Don’t say it isn’t nothing. I don’t want it to be nothing. I know it isn’t nothing.” you looked him in his eyes. his eyes looked a little desperate almost pleading. You wanted to say it you knew it wasn’t nothing but something in you still wanted to deny from fear of scaring him away “Five i-its nothing i’m being honest” he shook his head “Don’t say that…it isn’t. Me and you have always beat around the bush. When i’m with you i cant help it but to beat around the bush cause i’m afraid to lose you. I don’t want to scare you away but god damn it y/n i cant do it any longer. Y/n i love you. You are in my mind no matter how much i try to push it away. I cant pretend that i don’t love you cause i do. Y/n i love you and i was too afraid to say it but now i’m not. i’ve gotten my shit together for the most part and me beating around the bush is not something i wanna do anymore.” you looked at him incredulously. He just professed his love to you. after so long of lingering stares and touches that lasted a little too long all coming to a sorta close. you swallowed “Five i have also loved you…i’ve loved you even as i kept distance for 6 years i was in love with you as we danced at the wedding at the end of the world i was in love with you as we saved the world in the 60’s and i have loved you before. I was also too afraid to say it.” he looked at you with eyes that held love and adoration. His face came closer to yours both of you so close his breath fanned across your face you swallowed and kept eye contact with him. he looked from your lips to your eyes “Y/n?” you kept your eyes locked with his “Yeah?” “can i kiss you?” you felt your breath hitch “God yes” he didn’t need to be told twice. His lips were on yours kissing desperately. his hands came to either side of your face holding you close. your hands came around his neck one along his back and one traveled into his hair giving a slight tug making him groan. He lightly bit at your bottom lip and tugged gently. you whimpered softly and he growled at that lovely sound you made. his hands went from either side of your face and at the top of your arms feeling the skin under your sleeves. his lips traveled from your lips to your jaw and to your neck. his kissed almost reverently until he started to nibble and suck to create a dark purple love bite. you let out shuddering breath and you licked your bottom lip wetting it a little “f-five…fuck” he detached his lips looking up at you with a hint of concern “You okay? does it feel okay?” you nodded “Feels good…so good…” his eyes darkened and growled softly “Such a good girl made just for me” he kissed and sucked your skin. after some time “I need you now baby please. Let me have you” he looked up at you with a hint of pleading but there was room for you to say no and back away but thats not happening “Yes”
you and him had got into the back seat. he swallowed as he gently pulled your shirt over your head. he let out a breath ans he was speechless for a minute. you got a little worried and self conscious thinking maybe he was changing his mind. your hands where going to go around your body to cover but his hands where quick but gentle to pull your hands away “no…no, don’t cover…you’re gorgeous i wanna see you, love” you felt relief flood through your body. you let him guide your hands away from your body. his hands pulled you closer and held you to him and kissed the side of your neck as he undid your bra letting your tits loose from the prison you call a bra. he growled a little “Fuck look at you. perfect pretty girl. can i touch them baby?” you nodded and he shook his head his hand traveled to the back of your neck pulling you closer “Ah ah baby i gotta hear you say it okay? use your words for me, hm?” you swallowed nervousness and excitement coursing through you “Y-yes…please touch me” he hummed in appreciation “Good girl” his hands came away the back of your neck and to your tits squeezing and kneading softly feeling there shape. he leaned down and kissed the top of one of your breasts and bit down and sucked pulling the skin in to make a love bite, marking you as his own. You moaned and blushed deeply. he soon pulled off and let go of your tits his hand traveling around your neck “Lie back in the seat for me baby. i gotta have a taste of you” you nodded. your cunt was soaked through your panties you could feel it the wet patch there was probably noticeable. He traveled down kissing down the valley of your breasts to your stomach all the way to the waistband. His fingers curled around the waistband looking up at you for permission. you nodded and he wasted no time pulling it down revealing the pretty black pair you on. his chuckle was mixed with a light growl “Oh baby did you wear these just for me?” you and him both knew that this was not planned before hand so no but god damn it were you gonna entertain it “Y-yeah…wore them just for you” he hummed in appreciation and kissed your clothed clit making you jump a little “Knew you would. You’re such a good girl. always so sweet” you blushed and let out a shuddered breath. his fingers curled around the bottom of your panties and pulled them down off your legs and let them join the pile on the floor. he wet his bottom lip as he stared “O-oh baby…this is what you’ve hidden from me for far to long?” he kissed you clit reverently sending a shock of pleasure before he started to really get to it. his tongue licking at your slit and up to your clit. his lips wrapped around your clit and focused his tongue and attention there. you moaned and shivered. your hand traveling into his hair looking down at him only causing you to get more worked up. “o-oh fuck five god damn it” your head fell back as you panted. he chuckled sending another shock of electricity “That good baby?” you nodded. your thighs shook and threatened to close around his head. before they could his hands wrapped around them. keeping them opened “Ah ah baby keep them nice and open for me, good girl” he devoured you like you where the most delicious meal and you felt that cord within you tighten and threaten to snap. your moans came out louder and he knew you where close. his thumb came to your clit and rubbed gentle circles while his tongue focused on your slit. you felt your orgasm crash down on you and he licked away your cum with eagerness “mmm sweet tasting girl. perfect for me” he came up for air panting. his chin had your slick down it. he wiped away at it and leaned down to kiss you. his tongue and your taste together was divine. you moaned softly. you felt his hard cock through his pants. you pulled back “let me help you…please?” your hand traveled to palm him and he let out a stuttering breath “Only if you really want to baby.” you looked him in his eyes “i want too…please let me” he smiled and kissed you one more time and sat up and let you move to in front of him in the backseat.
you and him had moved the front seat chairs up so you and him could have room. He let out a shuddering breath as you unbuckled him from his cloth prison. once his boxers were pulled down and away his cock was up against his stomach your eyes widened a little in surprise cause he was bigger then you expected. i guess what the world didn’t give him in height gave in length. he chuckled “surprised?” you nodded a little more eagerly then you wanted it to be “Yeah… i am actually. im not say i was expecting it to be small i just thought you’d be average or something” he chuckled and his hand came to your head pulling your hair back into a makeshift ponytail “Doll, im hurt! uou had no faith in me?” five feigned hurt with a mock pout. you chuckled “im sorry, baby. Let me make it up to you” your lips went to his head. he groaned “Fuuuck, doll.” your tongue flattened and you took more of him. his hand was in your hair helping you bob your head. he groaned and his head rolled back “just like that baby mhm so good your taking me so good” you whined and looked up at him. he looked down at you and his cock twitched “Fuck baby you cant look at me like that i’ll blow my load to fast” you giggled a little till he pushed your head down more and groaned. he face fucked you bobbing your head for you. “Fuck just like that doll flatten that pretty fucking tongue!” he growled his eyes dark and his pupils blown wide. “Thats it take it like the good sweet girl you are. Good girl” he moaned and his head fell back against the seat. his balls tightened he came down your throat. you went wide eyed swallowing it down. he pulled out panting. he looked down at you his hands untangling from your hair and tucked your hair behind your ear and away from your face “You okay baby?” you nodded wiping away tears “Yeah i’m okay.” he smiled and helped you onto his lap and kissed you softly. “I was a little rough baby i’m sorry” his thumbs gently swiped away any remaining tears.
After he let you calm down and get together holding you closely you laid on the backseat. you and him had let the backseats down. you looked up at him as he shrugged off his suit and vest undoing his tie and throwing it to the pile. he sat back a little looking at your naked splayed out body. his hand pumped his cock a few times “Fuck sweetheart your gorgeous.” he crawled over you lining his cock with your waiting entrance. you swallowed. “Five…can you hold me while we do this? i wanna be close to you” he looked up at you and smiled. his arms went around your body. one around your waist the other around your shoulders. he kissed your neck and slowly pushed in “f-fuck baby your tight” he pushed all the way in. your breath seemed to stop for a minute your lips parted in a silent moan. he stayed still letting you get used to him “Its okay baby just breathe” thats when you remember to breath breathing in then out letting your body relax. once fully relaxed he started to move in then out slow and sweet thrusts wanting to savor you and the feel of your walls squeezing his cock. soft moans and shudders of breath came from both of you. “God i love you y/n its been to long of us dragging this out. I should’ve told you before” you shook your head you arms around him and his back “Its not just your fault- ah -i..i should’ve said something too” you and him moaned as the pace picked up a little but stayed mostly slow and sweet. your hearts beat in sync with each other just as it is should. your pants filled the car and his groans filled your ears. the windows of the car fogged up and the soft patter of the rain against the car gave a soft atmosphere. “Fuck baby i wish i could stay buried inside you forever” he let you go a little but stayed close his pace not stopping. he lifted on of your legs to his shoulder to get a deeper angel. the head of his cock kissing your g-spot perfectly causing your moans to come out louder. he felt your walls start to tighten around him indicating how close you where his thrusts went faster “Its okay baby i got you i got you cum for me…cum with me, fuck your such a good girl cum with me” his moans came out louder with yours. his hands found yours and held them intertwining you and his fingers. the cord within your stomach snapped and as soon as he felt your walls tighten his cock twitched and he came with you his cum pouring inside you filling you up. He groaned and slowed his pace going slow to fuck you through it but not to overstimulate you. you and him panted, a thin layer of sweat glistening on your bodies. he looked down at you and smiled softly moving some of the hair from your face that stuck to you away “You okay baby?” you nodded “yeah…yeah I’m okay…are you?” he smiled and chuckled “More then okay.” you looked up at him admiring him for all he was. he noticed your look and leaned down and kissed you softly and you happily kissed back. he pulled out of you causing you both to whimper a little. he pulled off looking at you “Come on lets get redressed. If you wanna we can come to my place and we can get cleaned up and relax the rest of the night” you smiled “i like that idea”
So both of you got redressed after he found some wet wipes to clean you up a little. you helped each other get redressed and soon drove home where you and him took a proper shower (Might’ve had a little round two in there) and relaxed for the rest of night laid in bed in one of his sweaters and watched a cheesy rom-com while cuddling under the sheets till you fall asleep.
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Hey there guys! i hope you like it! its my first time writing a smut. I was nervous writing this sorry for any grammatical errors or if it seemed rushed (i hope it doesn’t). I love you and stay safe y’all ❤️ 😘
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princessbrunette · 7 months ago
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calling toxicex!rafe when you’re home alone and scared and he takes it as an opportunity to play hero and try and win you back ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍨 ⋅ ˚👛
one thing about rafe, if you call him he’s gonna pick up instantly.
“yeah?” he tries not to sound too excited.
“okay i hate that i have to do this, and don’t get any ideas but — i’m really scared right now ‘cos i swear i heard a sound outside my window n’i’m home alone and i just need you to come over and check just incase. please rafe i don’t know who else to call.” your poor little voice is quivering, all panicked and concerned and he can’t help but feel a sense of overwhelming pride. you were still his, even if you denied it.
“alright, you know i got you. stay put, yeah? i’ll be over there as fast as i can. you gonna be okay for another ten minutes?” he drawls, swinging his keys round his finger as he happily swaggers out the front door to his truck.
“mm… i think so. just hurry, please?” you let your guard down for a second, none of the usual sass or brattiness that you’d give him post-breakup to show him how well you’re doing without him — just pure vulnerability and fear, and he fucking loved it.
he shows up as quickly as possible, casually arriving at your door— making you jump when he knocks. he hears you fearful whimper through the door and bites back a smirk. “its me, kid. let me in.”
you have a moment of weakness when you swing the door open. maybe it’s the relief, or the way he’s standing there in a hoodie and sweat-shorts looking so cozy and unlike himself— but your eyes fill with tears, and you throw your arms around him. “oh god, i was so scared.” you sniffle and he beams, rubbing at your back.
“you’re fine, c’mon baby.” he hums, lifting you below your ass and walking you inside.
“rafe.” you groan at the cross of boundary, knowing that was too much affection for an ex.
“yeah yeah.” he puts you down and shuts your door. “so where’s this intruder, huh? or did you make that up to get me over here.” he teases, his hand staying on your back as you walk through to the living room.
“i swear i heard twigs snapping outside the window, it sounded like a person.” you pout and he snickers, shaking his head.
“probably the wind. or— or a raccoon or some shit.” he stuffs his hands into his pockets, watching you sit down on the couch. he stays standing, not sure what to do with himself. you physically relax at his words, realising how silly you’d been.
“yeah… i guess you’re right actually.” you sigh, before your eyes glance up at him. he suspected you felt okay enough to kick him out, and he couldn’t have that — so he jumps back into action.
“i don’t know, actually — you - you know, there’s some maniacs out there, right? maybe someone was watching you.” his mouth turns downward as he shrugs casually, watching the way your brows furrow.
“what? really?” that vulnerable voice was back. right where he wanted you. he nods, a faux concerned frown on his face as he scratches at his cheek casually, slowly rounding to sit down next to you on the couch.
“mm, yeah… yeah i think it’s… probably best i stay the night, right? safety in numbers and shit.” he drawls, voice low and raspy now that he was so close. your eyes flutter, wanting so badly not to give in — but the thought of staying the night alone was spooking you out, so you indulged yourself.
“…okay.” you agree unsurely, mirroring his nod without realising.
“yeah? you know i’ll protect you.”
‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍨 ⋅ ˚👛
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specialagentlokitty · 7 months ago
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Hotch x reader - everybody’s favourite
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Sorry for requesting something so soon after my Wanda ask... But all I can think of is like Hotchkiss with reader who just absolutely spoils him and jack because their like a CEO or something and want them to have the best. And one day they send Hotch to work with a gift for Spencer after a hard case (maybe a book he's been looking for but can't find). So the team get a little jealous and want to meet her. - @azeal-peal 💜
Looking at your phone, you smiled at your lock screen and went back to looking at the people you were sat in a meeting with.
“How about we take a small break?” You asked.
“Your boyfriend calling?” Someone chuckled.
You laughed softly, standing up as you grabbed your phone.
“Actually my boyfriend is here, and we’re in no rush to finish this project, I trust you all. Go take a few hours, we’ll meet back just after lunch.”
Everybody seemed happy with this arrangement, and you quickly tidied a few of the papers away, setting them aside and picked up your papers.
Heading to your office, you set them on the desk, then walked back outside, making your way across the office.
You saw him before he saw you, and you grinned from ear to ear as you walked closer.
“Hello sweetheart.” You greeted.
Hotch turned around, a smile gracing his face as he saw you.
He opened his arms and you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him wrap his own around you and you pulled him down for a kiss.
Letting him go after a minute, you played with the hairs on the base of his neck.
“I just got back, Jack is at school so I thought I’d come see if you’re free.”
“I’m always free for you my darling.”
Hotch chuckled a little bit, letting go of you he held his hand out and you took it, letting him lead you back to his office.
He gathered your phone, your keys and your wallet for you, putting them into the pockets of his blazer, then held out his arm.
You looped your arm with his, making your way down to the parking lot.
“I was thinking about jacks trip, and I want to get him some new clothes for it, oh and a new suit for you, we have an appointment with the tailor.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I’m going to do it. So, suck it up and tell me about your case.”
Hotch nodded, opening the car door for you, and you got in.
When he was in the drivers side, he began to tell you about the case on the way to the tailors.
He explained how hard the case was for Reid, and what had happened, the fact that Reece had been hurt, and he’s really struggling with the fact he was hurt.
You listened carefully as he talked.
“The poor kid has it hard.” You sighed.
“I know, but honestly he’s one of the best agents we have, if not the best agent. I just wish there was some way to boost his confidence in himself.” Hotch sighed.
“Give it time, I imagine life has been hard for him because of how smart he is, and we know this world isn’t too kind to people who are different. Just keep supporting him Aaron and let him know you’re there for him.”
You guided your boyfriend into the tailors and over to the man who was waiting for him.
While they were measuring up a new suit, you were flicking through some others, looking at the colours and designs, then you made your way over to the accessories.
You found a nice, though expensive watch in the glass case.
“It’s nice isn’t it?��� Another man asked.
“Absolutely, though I was wondering if you have something a little less flashy and more work appropriate. My boyfriend wouldn’t be able to wear this to work.”
The man nodded his head, pulling out some watches.
“Some of these are more expensive due to their unique design, but they would be more appropriate for a working environment if you didn’t want it to be easily damaged.”
You looked through them, and you looked at a pure gold one, small intricate designs carved into the links of the watch.
“I like this, I’ll get this one. He’s currently getting a new suit fitted so I’d like to wait for that before paying, I’ll probably get him a few more ties as well. Something that says professional, but can be used for formal meals and such as well.”
He nodded.
“We have a few I think you’ll like them.”
You carried on picking some stuff up for Hotch, then waited by the counter for him, also getting yourself a new watch since you wanted a change.
When Hotch had his new suit fitted, it was brought over and he stood next to you.
“(Y/N) no, you can’t. This is all too much and it has to be expensive.”
You grinned a little bit, handing over your bank card.
“Oops, too late.”
He sighed, giving you a small smile as he shook his head and he leant forward, kissing your forehead.
“You’re too good for me…” he whispered.
“I’d say it’s the other way around sweetheart, oh, and before you go to work tomorrow I have something for you to take it.”
You never told Hotch what it was, but you did go pick it up later on that night before heading back home.
Jack was happily trying on all of his clothes, and you handed the box to Hotch with the instructions to give it to Reid first thing in the morning.
And he did, when he got to the office he waited for Reid and made his way over.
“(Y/N) wanted you to have this.”
He set the box on the desk and Reid furrowed his brows a little bit.
“Oh? The mysterious rich partner has a gift for the pretty boy?” Emily asked.
They all walked over to watch as Reid opened it.
He set the lid to the box aside, and he picked up the note that was neatly placed on the top.
“What’s it say?” Rossi asked.
“It says to always believe in myself.”
He set the note aside and picked up the very old book.
“It’s a first edition of a Russian novel I’ve been looking for…” he whispered.
“Oh my god that’s amazing!” Garcia gasped.
“Damn, that must’ve cost a lot.” Morgan whistled.
They all nodded in agreement and Hotch just chuckled a little bit, shaking his head.
“They don’t care about cost, to (Y/N) they just want everybody to have the best.”
“Seriously Hotch, we have to meet them this isn’t fair.” JJ laughed.
Everybody immediately started asking him and begging him to be able to meet you.
They’d all heard about you, they knew about you from being the CEO of a large company, they’d seen photos of you and seen interviews of you thanks to Garica.
But they hadn’t had the chance to meet you, and they wanted to meet you, finally get to see the person who keeps gifting them all expensive gifts
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nyoomerr · 3 months ago
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i think it’d be really funny if for a fic drabble it’s just hot food blogger luo binghe who’s dated every woman on the block scrambling cuz he thinks his boyfriend who hes totally gone for likes another man’s cooking more then his (jokes on him, shen yuan’s talking about HIS videos, he just doesn’t wanna admit it)
picky food critic sy and mean but brilliant chef lbh is one of my favorite pairings in the world, actually
---
Luo Binghe had always taken pride in both his cooking and his presentation. 
When he was younger, the meals he made served as a tribute to his mother. He ate well both because he knew she’d have wanted it for him and because the part of himself that would always be a hungry child of a poor single mother couldn’t stand the thought of being able to eat good food and choosing not to.
Then, when he was a bit older, cooking presented a new, more literal value: money. The daughter of a rich businessman had taken an interest in Luo Binghe from the meals he brought in to school, and Luo Binghe had by then already become wise to the fact that using empty-headed rich kids like her could pull a person out of the station they were born to. Luo Binghe used that girlfriend’s money to put himself through the first year of college; after that, he found someone with deeper pockets and won them over with his cooking as well. 
Well. Perhaps by that point Luo Binghe had learned how to win a woman over with more than just his cooking, but seduction was temporary. A woman would sleep with a pretty man that could promise to be a good lay; she’d only empty her wallet for a man who could measure up as something more permanent, and providing her with good food was the most surefire way to prove a man’s worth as a longterm boyfriend. 
So Luo Binghe cooked for his mother, and for his own hunger, and for the bills he had to pay by means of vapid girls who he cared little for but were easily swayed by good food.
After college, Luo Binghe became a chef, and then a sous chef, and then a head chef of a restaurant that he more or less controlled completely. He made a name for himself beyond being known as the pretty gold digger who’d dated half a dozen rich young ladies, and a wealth of his own that only multiplied when he began raking in advertiser’s money from blogging about his food on top of just selling it.
Luo Binghe’s food was good, and he knew exactly how to use it to position himself advantageously through life until he didn’t need advantages anymore. It had given Luo Binghe his life and his wealth and - most recently - his love, so Luo Binghe had no reason to feel anything but confidence in it.
“Binghe, can we have mapo tofu tonight? I’ve been craving some ever since I saw that video that’s been going around, ah, it looked so good…”
Luo Binghe feels his eye twitch. Nothing but confidence, he reminds himself.
“It’s rare for Shen-ge to want food he saw online,” Luo Binghe says sweetly, without answering Shen Yuan’s question at all.
“Is it?” Shen Yuan asks, not looking up from his phone. He’s currently sprawled inelegantly over Luo Binghe’s couch, giving Luo Binghe a perfect view of the way his shirt rides up, teasing him with a perfect sliver of Shen Yuan’s soft stomach. “I feel like I end up eating the food I see online way more frequently than the average guy, honestly.”
“Shen-ge frequently eats it; it’s rare for him to want to eat it,” Luo Binghe clarifies.
After all, this is how Luo Binghe had met Shen Yuan, the harshest food critic online. Luo Binghe had idly thought the small challenge of getting such a picky eater to endorse his food would have been good for his business, and invited him to try some. 
Shen Yuan had accepted. He’d then proceeded to eat Luo Binghe’s food with an enthusiasm, blissed out expression, and a symphony of erotic noises that had Luo Binghe, known playboy and talented sex-haver, feeling as if he’d just experienced the sexual awakening of a teen facing their first set of nudes.
That was fine, though, because Luo Binghe would simply seduce Shen Yuan the same as any other pretty face that could be swayed by good food, and - 
- and Luo Binghe could let Shen Yuan stay a bit longer, if only to hear the earnest way he praised Luo Binghe’s cooking and wished to hear about what it meant to Luo Binghe and asked if he could help Luo Binghe with the dishes -
- and inviting Shen Yuan back again and again would be strategic, because being the only chef who managed to not only wring a five star rating but a glowing review from such a notoriously harsh critic had been quite good for Luo Binghe’s business after all -
- and adjusting his menus to both suit Shen Yuan’s preferences and lean into heavier, fattier meals was good for Luo Binghe personally, because a lifetime of being a picky eater had let Shen Yuan grow up into skin and bones, which was bad for both Luo Binghe’s tiny remaining morality that was reserved for feeling bad for people who looked hungry and Luo Binghe’s sex life, since someone so skinny wasn’t very good for holding -
- and somehow, in the past year, Luo Binghe’s life has once more given cooking a new meaning: it’s what brought Shen Yuan to him, and got Shen Yuan to stay, in a way far more meaningfully than it ever got those rich young ladies to stay with Luo Binghe in the past.
It has also allowed Luo Binghe to grow into an ugly, wretchedly possessive thing, knowing that Shen Yuan likes his food best, that it’s his food that has filled in the little fat on Shen Yuan’s hips and thighs. A part of Luo Binghe becoming a part of Shen Yuan, and Shen Yuan enjoying it -!
“Well,” Shen Yuan says, “I want to eat this food. So - mapo tofu?”
Luo Binghe grinds his teeth. It makes the possessive parts of him howl that his picky eater boyfriend could be made hungry by another chef; if Shen Yuan had not specifically asked Luo Binghe to make the meal for him, and instead had genuinely sought out the online chef, Luo Binghe might have truly snapped.
…Perhaps this is a level of ownership that Luo Binghe should not feel over Shen Yuan’s eating, if their relationship is to be a healthy one. After all, if Shen Yuan were to ever be apart from Luo Binghe for longer than Luo Binghe could prepare meals for in advance…
Luo Binghe resolves to never be away from Shen Yuan for so long a period.
“Mapo tofu, then,” Luo Binghe agrees, smiling with sharp teeth at Shen Yuan. 
Shen Yuan finally glances up from his phone, beaming at Luo Binghe. 
“My Binghe’s the best after all, ah!” He says, clearly smug with himself, and some of Luo Binghe’s irritation slips away. 
For Shen Yuan, he really…
…He’ll really make mapo tofu better than anyone!!
Luo Binghe had made some just the other day actually, for a video for his blog, but he doesn’t bother to make it the same way this time. Food made specifically for his cooking blog is always slightly altered from how it truly tastes best - it must be designed to look good for the viewer, rather than tasting or feeling good. Besides that, Luo Binghe is not above altering recipes before giving them out so that his own cooking would always taste best, preventing copy cats from stealing the clientele of his restaurant. 
And, more importantly, this is the mapo tofu that Shen Yuan has specifically asked for, spurred on by a impotent online stranger who probably made a good-looking meal out of luck and nothing else. If Luo Binghe makes mapo tofu that is only good in a normal way, it won’t successfully prevent Shen Yuan from thinking of that stranger’s cooking ever again, ah!
So: a doubanjiang sauce that Luo Binghe has been fermenting personally, rather than store bought, and scallions instead of garlic greens to suit Shen Yuan’s preferences specifically. Tofu cut into chunks that Luo Binghe knows will be just the right size for Shen Yuan’s perfect pink lips and tongue, and the final dish plated in a way that is messier than is presentable for pictures but will have a better ratio of sauce to food, and -
Shen Yuan frowns. Luo Binghe, who has not seen Shen Yuan frown at a meal he has personally made in all the time he has known him, feels a spike of panic. 
Is his food not Shen Yuan’s ideal, anymore? Has Shen Yuan found another standard that he prefers, another chef to feed him? No one could feed Shen Yuan as well as Luo Binghe can, he’s sure of it, so why -!
“This doesn’t look like the mapo tofu you made the other day,” Shen Yuan says.
Luo Binghe blinks at him. “The mapo tofu that… I made?”
“Yeah? Didn’t I say I wanted it because I got hungry looking at your latest blog post?” Shen Yuan pauses to take a bite of the dish, his eyes fluttering shut and a low noise in the back of his throat escaping him in his bliss. “Ah, fuck it, this is way better than I thought it would be, forget the blog post!”
Saying so, Shen Yuan digs in to the meal in earnest, and Luo Binghe is left to watch him as he makes peace with the fact that he had, in fact, called himself an impotent fool when he thought it was someone else who had made mapo tofu that Shen Yuan liked the look of. 
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 9 months ago
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please do something with peter parker for vday. I miss you writing for him
I started writing this one last year for Valentine's Day...forgive me for the long wait
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‘’No, you don’t understand, Ned. It needs to be perfect,’’ Peter explained, turning to his best friend for help.
‘’My longest and only relationship lasted about sixty hours, so I’m not really the one to come to for Valentine’s Day gift ideas.’’ 
‘’Uncle Ben always gave May flowers and chocolate.’’ And Peter always tried to steal chocolate from the box. ‘’But Y/N is Mr. Stark’s daughter, I can’t just buy her flowers and chocolate. She’ll think I’m poor.’’ 
‘’Didn’t you tell me this morning that you only have five dollars in your pockets?’’ Ned recalled, taking one of the homemade cookies his lola had put into his lunch bag and taking a bite. There was one for Peter too, but he was too busy worrying and panicking.
Peter groaned and hid his face in his crossed arms, frustrated and desperate. Being broke was a second problem to his Valentine’s Day plan. ‘’What am I gonna do? Valentine’s Day is in two days. I can’t not get her anything.’’ 
‘’If you go back to the roots of Valentine’s Day, it’s about celebrating love. You don’t have to spend money to show someone you love them.’’ Peter opened his mouth, but Ned spoke first. ‘’Even if she’s a Stark and bathes in money,’’ he added. ‘’She didn’t fall in love with you because of your economic status, she fell in love because of who you are.’’
On the big day, Peter set everything up in his living room. May was on a date with Happy, so he had the apartment to himself — until 10pm. He didn’t have a projector, so he made one with a shoebox and a magnifying glass, and hung a sheet to one of the walls to turn into a screen. He made cheese pastas and brought over the single chocolate cupcake he was able to afford. 
He was nervous, constantly checking his phone waiting for your ‘I’m here’ text. When he finally got it, Peter rushed to the door, smoothing his button up and fixing his hair before opening. If he was this nervous for Valentine’s Day, he didn’t want to imagine the nervous wreck he would be at his wedding. 
Not that he was planning on getting married anytime soon. 
‘’Happy Valentine’s Day,’’ you said with a smile on your glossy lips. 
Peter said the words back and let you in, gulping when his eyes fell on the small gift bag you were holding. You set it down on the table to take off your coat and boots, revealing a pink sweater and a sparkly necklace that cost probably more than anything in May's apartment.
You followed Peter to the living room, excitement bubbling in your stomach when seeing the frozen image of your favorite rom-com projected on the wall.  ‘’You made this?’’ 
Peter gave you a small nod. Projectors were easy to make. He learned how in a science book for kids when he was nine. May was so impressed when he showed her his ‘magic box’. 
‘’It’s not much, but—’’ he started to say, but you shut him up with a kiss. 
‘’Stop it,’’ you said, guessing his train of  thoughts. ‘’This is the best Valentine’s Day gift ever.’’ 
You never had another valentine before him — beside the little boys in middle school who sent you cards and heart lollipops  —, but Peter’s gift came from the heart. It was thoughtful and personal, therefore meant a lot to you. 
After eating the pastas, you handed Peter the gift bag. He was nervous just from holding it. 
He slowly pulled out the festive tissue papers and groaned when seeing a red and blue plush toy. ‘’Spiderman? Really?’’ Peter made an annoyed face. He didn't want to come off as ungrateful, but he was getting tired of the jokes with the Spiderman merch he had no control over. 
‘’Press his chest,’’ you instructed, ignoring his complaints.
Peter gave you a confused look, but listened. ‘’I love you, my Spidey,’’ the toy said.
You watched his expressions shift from confusion to surprise, Peter’s eyes widening when he recognized the sound of your voice. A genuine smile spread across his face, the small plush taking a whole other meaning. ‘’That's your voice,’’ he whispered, still holding the talking Spiderman plush. 
You nodded, the sparks in Peter’s eyes telling you that no expensive gift could have matched this one. He was truly touched. ‘’I know you don’t like when I get you expensive things, so I didn’t get you a new watch,’’ you explained, thinking back at the Cartier watch you hesitated on last week. He would have hated it. 
Turning toward you, Peter enveloped you in a hug to properly thank you. 
Your arms wrapped around him in return. ‘’Even when I’m not with you, you’ll always have something to remind you that I love you.’’ 
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writers-hes · 1 year ago
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Toy Horses Outside the Brothel
You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps)
A/N: This is dedicated to @runnning-outof-time ! Thank you for giving me guidelines and for reading my work before anybody else did. You’re amazing and I wish I could write Tommy as good as you do. 
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BIRMINGHAM, 1900:
Tommy first met her when his father took him to the docks. Arthur Shelby Sr. told impressionable young Tommy that there were kids he could play with by the docks. Tommy agreed, wanting to impress his father. On the way there, right outside of what looked like a house with many rooms, was her.
You were lonely and something in Tommy told him to play with you instead. Besides, the boys were too big around the docks. Arthur Shelby left him right outside the establishment and threw a shilling to you. You picked it up, stuffed it in your pocket, and looked at him.
He smiled at you widely, a tooth missing from his mouth and extended his hand towards you.
“I’m Tommy,” he said. You reciprocate the gesture, telling him your name and shaking his hand. You were more reserved, Tommy noticed. He was so used to the ruckus in their house that he expected every child to be as energetic as them. “Why did my father give you money?”
“He wants me to play with you while he’s inside,” you said. “I don’t have many toys but…I do have this,” you said, showing him your wooden horse toy. They were your prized possession, one of the few gifts that your father sent when he promised the world to your mother.
“Oh! I love horses,” he said. “Do you? I like watching horses,”
“Yes,” you replied. “My mother said that my father owned many. I’ve never met him though. Where do you watch horses?”
“That’s alright. Fathers hit kids. See?” he said, showing you a bruise on his side quickly. “My mother puts ice on it and it tickles. We watch it in the races. My mum takes me for my birthdays. She usednto ride a white horse before. She told me. Do you go to school?”
“No,” you shook your head. “But my mum taught me how to read and how to write. Sometimes, Big Johnny teaches me arithmetic. One plus one equals two,”
“You’re smart. Who’s Big Johnny?”
You hummed, making the wooden horse gallop on the murky ground. People in the house all told you that you were. If only poor Mary Magdalene had the means to send you to school. If only. You stop your movements and move your toy towards Tommy.
“Here,” you said. “Big Johnny is the man who runs this place. He’s kind,”
“You won’t have a toy,” he replied.
“It’s okay. I have more but they’re in my mama’s room. My father sent them. Sorry if it’s dirty,”
“Thanks,” he said. It’s the first time anyone has ever given him something without asking for it. He keeps it with him; keeps the memory of a girl who watched him intently while he played with a toy horse. That’s why when his father exited the house, with less money in his pocket, Tommy asked if he could come again next time.
-
When the house closed, you ran to your mother’s room. You usually had to stay out until five in the morning, sleeping on the sacks right in front of the brothel until your mother woke you up. She’s been seeing less men these days…always cooped up in her room, asking for you. She didn’t mind if you stained her bed with sweat and grease. She’d ask how your day was and you told him about Tommy, the boy you met earlier.
“I’m glad you have a friend,” she coughed into her white handkerchief. The blood stain was normal now. You were worried at first, but your mother told you to never tell anyone. You just never knew how serious it all was when you slipped once. You were talking to Big Johnny; he was teaching you how to subtract.
“If I help you, are you going to pay me?” you asked, perched on his lap. He had been the only father figure in your life. He’d help your mum surprise you for your birthdays and give you some money every now and then.
“Pay you? You’re robbing me,” he kids. “What do you need the money for?”
“I’m planning to buy mum a present. A nice handkerchief,” you said. “The one she has has blood—“
“What is it, bug?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing.
“Nothing,” you shrugged, smiling sickly sweet.
“You have to tell me,” he replied. “It’s your—your safety,”
It was your turn to look confused.
“But mum told me to never tell anyone,” you whispered, heart racing. What did he mean by it? “Why would I not be safe? I’m safe. I have mum with me,”
Big Johnny ran his hand through his hair, then his chin. You knew that it was a sign of his agitation, so you relented.
“You can’t tell anyone,” you whispered. “But mum has been coughing up blood for a while. She said it’s fine. You won’t take her from me right, Johnny?”
“Fuck, kid,” he sighed, stressed at the sudden turn out of events. “No more arithmetic today, okay? I’ll go talk to your mum. Just go outside or play or whatever,”
“Is everything okay?” you asked, panic rising in your throat. It constricts while you keep yourself from crying.  “Mum will be so mad at me! Please don’t tell on me,”
“Do you know why she’s coughing up blood?” he asked, his voice serious. He knew that you had to be talked to in his “adult voice” for you to listen. You knew that he needed to be stern for you to listen.
“N-no…” your hair falls messily as you shake your head, picking on your nail beds.
“She’s sick, bug,” he said. “If we don’t do anything about it, you could get sick too. The two of you might die,” he explained. “Look, kid…you have a bright future ahead of you, alright?”
“What will you do?” you asked. “You can’t take her from me! Please, Johnny. My mum is all I have,” you cried, tears started flowing once the first one dropped.
Johnny couldn’t do anything else. He relented but locked your mother in her room. Whenever you went in, he made sure you had some face mask on to protect yourself. You only saw her for a few minutes every day. Parting her was painful and Johnny had to console you while you cried. He gave up his bunk and slept in his workspace so you won’t have to sleep with your mum.
A week later, your mum died of lung cancer.
It was too late, the doctor explained. Johnny let you stay in his bunk, never mind the fact that he had no space for himself now. He didn’t mind. You were his top priority. How is he going to raise a child in a brothel?
-
Your mother always told you that as long as you were with her, you would never be lonely. There was no burial, just her body being thrown and burned with the rest of Birmingham’s garbage. It made you wonder what your body would be like dead. You decided to never end up like her, one way or another you were getting out.
Tommy continued to visit you, but he knew that you were different now. It has only been a week and you’ve grown up so fast. When he arrived, a box of your toy horses was prepared for him.
“What’s this for?” he asked, eyes brightening up at the sight of the box. His father threw a shilling your way again.
“It’s for you. I don’t want to play anymore,” you said. “I kept one white horse for me but you can have them.”
“Why not?” he asked, galloping the toy you gave him last week. “Thank you. I don’t have my own. I always have to share with Arthur, John and Ada.”
“My mom died…you were my first friend and you never met her,” you said, tears falling on the ground. “I’ve been living in Big Johnny’s room,”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “My Aunt Pol says that friends are there for each other. I’m…I’m your friend,”
You smiled a teary smile, appreciating the underlying message behind his words. He’ll be there for you. But until when?
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1905
Fifteen, you were fifteen. You haven’t even turned fifteen for a week and you were working. The owner of the house told Big Johnny that if you wanted to keep living there, you would have to work too. Johnny had no place for himself, no house—his money all went to you. Your clothes, the books you’ve read, the food you ate. He'll get you a cake with a candle along with a pound for special occasions. If you were lucky, some of the girls would give you something. Tommy’s dad stopped coming and so was the shilling you got.
He stayed, though. He’d talk to you about school and how he wanted to leave.
“You’re lucky you’re in school,” you said, watching Tommy smoke a cigarette. You were never a fan if them, seeing as your mother died of fucking lung cancer. “You have to stay,”
“I’m not built for it though. They’re all so boring,” he said, blowing the smoke away. “If only I could work like you. Why are you dressed so nicely anyway?”
“The owner told me to work,” you shrugged, pulling the strap of your dress back on your shoulder. “Johnny asked the boss if I could help him with the girls and management, but he said no. Wanted me to work because it will bring more money in,” you bitterly replied. “I want to go to school but the fucking boss wanted me to present myself as a Cherry Girl. You wanna know what that is?”
“What?”
“A fucking virgin.” you shrugged. “Said many men will pay for someone like me. Today’s my first night and Johnny cried a little bit when he saw me. I’d kill and die to go to school, Tom.”
“Shit, love, I’m sorry. I was being insensitive,” he offered. “Hm, maybe you’ll bag one rich man you know? Some rich bloke from London and he’ll take you. Besides, at least you smell nice,”
“This shit is awful,” you countered, sighing. You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. “Fuck, I said I wasn’t going to cry tonight.”
“Hey,” he said, sitting closer to you. He wraps your arm around you and lets you stay there. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll stay in school and do well, okay? I’ll study so hard; I’ll take you out of here. Let you live in a mansion with lots of space to run in. Fuck, I’m sorry, love,”
“It’s not your fault, Tommy,” was your weak reply. “I’m just…I told myself that I would never be like my mother and now, I am,”
“You’re not her,” he whispered, tightening his arms around you.m, never mind if the grease and sweat of his clothes mixed with your perfume. “You’re not her.”
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1906
“Fuck, Tom. You can’t stay here while I’m working,” you scolded. You were lying, you appreciated the fact that Tommy was here. He’ll wait until you finish your shift, until you meet your quota. It was always quick, though. You had a rich patron that covered your every living expense.
“My patron’s coming,” you told him, and he tenses. He remembered the way you cried to him after your first ever shift last year. How some old fuck didn’t even bother. He finished and threw you some coins. He remembered his rage when you told him about this new guy. He’s quite scary but he pays the most, you said. “He doesn’t like seeing me with other men,”
“I’m a man now?” he quips, a smirk on his lips. “It’s not like I can afford it. I’m broke. Besides, I’ll act like a bodyguard, yeah? All I ask for payment is a day out with you. Aunt Poll is cooking something on Sunday. Want you to eat something that’s not whatever is being cooked here. We can go on a picnic. I met a girl who worked at this mansion, and they have lots of flowers in the garden. Shit you’ll like,”
You offered him a slight smile, nodding.
“Will your aunt be okay with…me eating your food?” you asked. Tommy took notice of how insecurity laced your voice. His suggestions of meeting his family have always been met with resistance. He understood. Although Polly has been insisting on meeting the girl he’s been spending his time with, he couldn’t risk his father recognising you and then, treating you like trash.
“Of course. She’s been more annoying. Told my mum about the girl I’m seeing,” he said. “I’ll be the first boy to take you out, hm?”
“Shut up,” was your only reply.
Sunday comes and you asked your boss for a day off.
That day, Tommy took you to the garden with Polly’s chicken stew and his mum’s fig cake. Tommy didn’t let you work, he set down the food and opened the containers.
“The best meal you’ll ever have,” he said while you sat. “I should’ve done this earlier. What have you been eating?”
“I’m lucky enough to be fed. Johnny gets me some food out of the brothel sometimes.” you said. “Thanks for taking me here. I love it.”
“I knew it,” he said, spooning out your portion and giving it to you.
“I want to have a house with lots of flowers. Different coloured blooms all year round.” you said.
“The caretaker of the garden says that we can pick some flowers. Do you want to take some home?” he asked. You nodded, a flush on your face. How could someone not love him?
BIRMINGHAM, 1908
“How have you been my angel?” he asked, twirling your hair in between your fingers. “Can’t believe I missed you last week,” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder. You giggled. “I was in London and all I could think of was you,”
“I’ve never been to London,” you told him. “Are you going to take me there?” you asked, wide-eyed. He’s been your patron since you reached 18. He was quite younger than your usual customers. He always came to visit when you were seventeen but never looked at you. As if that made it better.
“You haven’t?” he asked. “I’ll take you there, Angel. I’ll show you the whole world. Hm?”
“You will?” you asked, faux excitement in your voice. He loved this; you knew. He loved that you were a fragile little bird in need of saving. He loved that you’d listen to him talk about his father. He’s the sappy kind. He liked to hold hands, talk, and make love. He’s paid you more than anyone else and gave you a hefty allowance. Big Johnny didn’t have to think about your safety anymore. “I want to go to the city! Buy everything that I see and just…breathe a different air,” you said.
“Fuck, baby, I’ll take you there and buy you everything you ever lay your eyes on. I’m not fucking around. I’ll take you there,”
“You will?” you asked. “I don’t like the idea of you leaving me. Did you know that? Sometimes, when you leave, I have to lock myself in my room and refuse everyone,” you lied. You locked yourself in because your quota was already met. You were just saying these things to keep him coming back. A little bit of pretending never hurt you. It meant a bigger tip, more money.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Of course,” you said. “You’re my hero…”
Somehow, you didn’t find yourself lying when you told him. You felt dirty, you felt like your mother when she thought your father would give her the world. But Simon paid big money to have you alone for multiple nights a week.  No other customers were to ask for services.
“I’m your hero, alright…you’re my little bird. I’m dead set on taking you with me to London. Once I get my inheritance, I’ll show you the world and get you out of these slums.”
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1909
“You don’t have to do this anymore,” Tommy said. You were well enough to have your own place somewhere near the docks now. Johnny had given you some furniture that the house wasn’t using anymore, helping you fix the tables and the chairs that you would be using.  You didn’t have to live at the brothel anymore and it was all thanks to Simon.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Tommy,” you chuckled. “Do you like my place?” Tommy looked around, flowerpots littered your house.
“I’m serious.” he asked. “I’ll have you safe in Small Heath,”
“And my job? What will pay for this place? I finally have enough space for my flowers.” you asked. “I can’t just leave. Come on, you have to see the view on my balcony.”
You dragged Tommy’s hand to the balcony to show him the view. You were a little far from the docks now but from your balcony you can see it. The blue water, the usual chaos…you were smiling so freely, so beautifully. Tommy stills, unspoken words lingering in the air. You could realise it too…you’ve been realising it slowly. The world was in your hands. You could seize it if you wanted it. It fills Tommy with determination. It pumps through his veins, and it rings in his ears. Determination, consistency, and power. Three things to play with the world…three things that he’ll have. He could get you a bigger house. If he played right, he could have it all.
“This is why I got this place,” you said. “I mean, there were others but the view of the docks…I used to think everything about it was so ugly, you know? So grey, so evil…so grotesque but from the vantage point, everything is different,” a soft smile played on your lips when you let go of Tommy’s hand. He already missed your touch. “I can’t leave my job now because I wouldn’t have this,”
“I’ll work for it,” he says proudly.
“Tom, I know you’re not happy with how I earn money. Fuck, I’m not happy too. I hate that job. I know you hate it when I turn down your offer. But I have nothing else. You have to support your siblings. Don’t you get it? We’re all whores, Tom. We just sell different parts of ourselves. Mine just so happens to be my body.”
It enrages him and you could see it. See his face fall apart, how his jaw ticked.
“I’ll do it.” he said. “I’ll fucking do it. You think I’m fucking around when I tell you that I’ll protect you? I will. I’ll make a name for myself and protect you. I’ll fucking protect you; I swear on my life.”
“I know you will, Tom,” you said, inching closer. “But can’t you just be happy for me? This once?”
“We could add a little chair right here,” he relented. How could he ever tell you how much he hated himself for not being enough right now?  “I’ll bring some of Polly’s flowers. You’d let me stay here?”
“Only if you’re being nice,”
“What if I’m too tired to make the trip back to Small Heath? Can I stay here?” he asked.
“Sure,” you shrugged. “But only if you have food for me or something,”
“Or something? You’re not letting me stay for free? I’m your best mate,” he chuckled. “I mooch off you all the time,”
“You have more than I do. It’s time for me to mooch off on you,”
“Yeah? Well, I want yours,” he said. “I’m glad though…that you don’t have to live there anymore. You’re safer here,”
“Thank you, Tom,” you smiled, sitting by the railing of your balcony. “I’m glad too.”
“I’ll make sure you’re protected,” he promises.
“How?”
“I’ll protect you.”
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1910
Tommy gave you the number of his telephone years ago. You were shaking, something bad had happened and you didn’t know who else to turn to. Big Johnny was too busy breaking up fights in the bar beside the brothel. You walked home shakily. Tommy called the brothel earlier to tell you that he couldn’t make it tonight because of some gang business. It was fine, of course. So, you went to the market to buy some supplies. You just didn’t know that he would be there.  
You were waiting for someone to pick up the phone, biting your perfectly manicured nails.
“Who’s calling?” a woman asked from the other line. Her tone was snippy, and you knew she meant business.
“Hi,” you cleared your throat. “I’m looking for Tommy Shelby?”
“Who is this?” she asked, confused as to why a woman would suddenly call Tommy in such a manner. She was used to Tommy’s girls calling, an embarrassment usually hinted when they spoke. But this new girl had no shame.
“I’m a friend of Tommy’s,”
“Tommy has many girlfriends. You’re going to have to be specific,” she said, intrigued.
“Oh, of course,” you said. You told her your name. “Is he there?”
“Tommy!” you could hear her voice call. “Some girl is on the phone for you!”
“What, Poll?” he asked, scowling.
“Pick up the phone, Tom. Your friend is asking for you,” she said, passing the phone to him. She didn’t leave the room immediately, sitting on the nearby chair instead to listen in.
“Tommy Shelby,” he says, and you breathed a sigh of relief.
“Tommy,” you whispered. “He was there…he was there.”
“Who, love?” Tommy asked. Polly noticed how his voice softened, how his stance relaxed. “Do you need me there?”
“He was one of my customers before,” you forced out. “He was always…rude and rough,” you choked. “I hate this fucking job, Tommy. I fucking hate it and he treated me like an object today just because he paid for my services years ago,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry. I know you were busy but I fucking hate it,”
“Shh…it’s okay, love. It’s okay. I’m going over there, and you could tell me,” he said. “Will that be alright?”
“I—yes,” you nodded, wiping your tears hastily. “I got some of your favourite fruit from the market today. Didn’t know you have an expensive taste,”
He chuckled softly.
“I’ll see you, alright?” he asked. “Keep the doors locked. I have my copy,”
“Okay, Tommy. Stay safe for me?” you asked.
“Of course.” Tommy put down the phone until he heard you end the line. He sighed and went to go get his coat until he saw Polly with an eyebrow raised. “Fuck, I didn’t see you there,”
“Who would? You were too lovestruck to notice anything,” she teased. “That’s the girl you’ve been seeing?”
“We’re friends, Pol,” he clarified.
“She’s the girl from the docks, then?” she asked. Tommy nodded. “Fuck, that’s rough. She’s a whore,”
“Don’t,” he said, an edge to his voice. “Don’t call her that. I’m trying to build something for all of us, Pol. For her. She hates her job…she fucking hates it and I can’t do anything about it,”
“You don’t have to save her, Tom. You can’t save everyone,” she said but she knew that Tommy was stubborn. Everything that she’ll say will fall on deaf ears.
“It’s all her,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll get her out of there if it’s the last thing I do.”
The walk to your place was unnerving. Thoughts swarmed in his head. If he only had it in him to murder the man who dared to look at you. He’s never made peace with how you earned your money, but he still happily showed up after every shift. You never talk about your customers, and he didn’t like to ask.
“Tommy, you’re here,” you greeted. He could see how swollen your eyes were; how red they were.
“Of course, I am,” he replied. “Are you okay?” He hangs his coat on the coat rack and walks towards the couch where you were seated.
“I am now,” you sniffed. “I’m sorry for making you worry but this job…people reduce me to such an object. I didn’t even know his name, you know?”
“I know, love.” he said, his heart beating inside his chest. What was it? What was the beating?
“Tommy, I’m going to make a request. It’s absurd and we haven’t done it yet…”
“What?” he whispered, unsure.
“Can-can you hold me?” you asked. “You don’t have to but…I have no semblance of what it’s like to be loved anymore. I want to pretend. At least for tonight, somebody out there loves me.”
“You don’t have to pretend,” he said. “You’re my friend. Of course, I love you.”
You only smiled, snuggling closer to Tommy. You were his friend…only a friend. How else would he look at you differently? You still had to pretend because the love that he was willing to give was not the love that you were looking for.
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1911
Multiple knocks on your door woke you up. Someone was screaming your name outside and you felt yourself panic. You took the gun that Tommy gifted you last year and crept down the stairs. You opened the door slowly to reveal two men—one older and one younger. The younger one had a smirk playing on his lips while the other looked panicked.
“Who are you?” you asked, tightening the gun behind your back.
“Arthur Shelby,” the one with the beard replied. You nodded. “I’m Tommy’s older brother. This is John,”
“Where…where’s Tommy?”
“He asked us to come get you,” John replied. “We mean no harm.”
“What happened to him?” you asked. “Come in,”
The brothers entered your house and watched you lay your gun on the table. An unspoken threat.
“Tommy’s not in a good place,” Arthur replied. “Well, he’s asking for you. He’s having these…episodes. I don’t fucking know what thr fuck they’re called but sometimes, he calls for you when he shuts down,”
“It's even worse today,” John added. “Our mother died,”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” you said, offering a small smile. “Will you let me dress better? I’ll come with you,”
You met the brothers outside of your house, your gun secured on your skirt.
“Are you Tommy’s whore?” John asked as you walked.
“John!”
“I’m not his fucking whore,”
“So, why is he always at the brothel by the docks?” he pressed.
“We met when we were kids. Your dad used to visit the brothel with him,” you shrugged. “I never understood why your father took him there all the time. It’s a dangerous place,”
“Why were you there?”
“My mother worked there. I was born there. I grew up there,” you shrugged. “Tommy was my only friend growing up. Your father stopped coming but Tommy still managed to show up,”
“I see,” Arthur replied. “You’re the girl who gave him toy horses when we were kids, then. He never let us touch them. Even now, he has them lined up on his wall,”
“Yeah, I was. I gave it to him a week after my mother died,” you recalled.
“I’m sorry for calling you his whore,” John said. He realised now that your relationship with Tommy was deeper. It was more meaningful than he realised.
“It’s okay,” you let out a small smile. “It’s a fair assumption,”
Minutes of silence passed by, and your group stopped in Watery Lane. You’ve never been in his house before; you never had the time to do so. You were also quite ashamed to show yourself. How could you prove that you weren’t after Tommy’s money if that's exactly what you are after men?
The door of the house opens, and you assume it was Polly. The same woman who you talked to on the telephone before.
“He’s in his room upstairs. Last door to the left,” she said.
“Thank you,” you rushed to where Tommy was. You didn’t bother to stay and eavesdrop. You were there for Tommy. You knocked on his door slightly.
“Stay the fuck away from my door or I will kill you,” he shouted. You cracked the door open slightly.
“It’s me, Tom,” you said. He rose from his bed and rushed towards you, flinging his arms around you. He pulled you closer. “Hi,”
“She’s dead,” he murmurs against your hair. “My mum’s dead. My dad left. I didn’t even like him, you know? He always hit the three of us. I thought it would be better if he just fucking left but my mum died because he left. Now, I don’t have her.”
“I’m so sorry, Tommy,” you said. You knew he was still struggling after his father left many months ago. He was shaking in your arms, trying to grasp you tightly. Trying to be closer.  “I’m so sorry,”
“I…I don’t know what to do,” he said. “You never got to meet her. She’d love you; you know?”
“That makes us even,” you saw a small smile on his lips. “I’m here now, Tom. You could rest,”
“You’ll still be here when I wake up?” he asked meekly, like a child.
“I’ll be here,” you nod, caressing his cheek softly. He nods, yawning after he evened out his breathing.
“Shit, love. I’m so tired,” he yawned again. “Let’s both go to sleep. We deserve it. I’ll see you when I’m awake?” he asked, adjusting your position on his small bed.
“I’ll see you,” you confirmed, snuggling closer to him.
-
“Tommy’s playing a dangerous game,” Polly commented from downstairs. It has been met with no resistance.
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1914
“Good afternoon, Pol,” you smiled. You were invited for Sunday dinner, and you decided to bring cake from the bakery that Tommy liked. You’ve only met them last year, but you’ve become such an integral part of their family that people knew you were closely associated with them. Even Simon.
“Oh, you didn’t have to bring cake,” she said. “We’d rather you spend it somewhere,”
“It’s alright,” you said. “I wanted to do something nice,”
“Keeping Tommy levelheaded is nice enough. Seriously, what did you do?” Ada asked, chopping the vegetables. She was reluctant at first but now, she couldn’t go a week without ranting to you. Girls’ night is what she called them.
“I don’t know,” you chuckled. “May I help?”
“If you could kindly chop the carrots, please,” Polly said. You set yourself and rolled your sleeves, peeling the carrots first. “Tommy and the boys went out for a while. They said it was some business with the Blinders. While they’re out, how are you?”
“Oh,” you nodded. “Me?”
“Of course. Ada has been talking my ear off about some guy she’s so secretive about,” she scoffed.
“I’ve been working less,” you confessed. “I’m helping out on the counter. Helping Big Johnny with the money and the accounts. I work a few times a week now. Simon’s been frequenting the brothel and well, you know what Simon does. It helps that he doesn’t stay long. The brothel pays me for my assistance. I can buy you cake every week now,”
“Don’t do that. Finn will be spoiled rotten,” Ada says. “Besides, you deserve nice things for yourself, you know,”
“I know but I can’t help it,” you said with a soft smile. “I like doing nice things for you,”
The boys soon come through the door, spilling with laughter. Tommy makes a beeline towards you as soon as he spots you.
“How was the afternoon?” you asked, bumping your hips with him.
“It was good,” he said. “Finn got into a fight with some kids, and we had to deal with it.”
“Is Finn okay? I brought cake.”
“Just a bruised ego,” he chuckled. My favourite?”
“Of course,” you said. “But let’s pretend that it’s for Finn, alright?”
“It’s always for Finn,” he groans. “He has you wrapped around his finger,”
“He does. He’s such a charming kid,” you praised. “Where is he, anyway?”
“Taking a bath before dinner. You have me for now,” Tommy said. “Can I sleep at your house later?” he asks in a softer tone. He’s been sleeping at your place ever since last year. He said you make him sleep better.
“You know it’s never a problem,” you said. His presence made you feel safe. He made you feel secure. “Will we leave together?”
“Yes. I’d like to sleep as soon as possible,” he says, dropping his forhead on your shoulder. You only chuckled. “I’m so tired. So, so tired,”
“Who are they fooling?” Ada asked in whispers. “Are we sure they’re best mates?”
“They’ve insisted on it for years,” Arthur shrugged. “I don’t think they’re aware,”
“I don’t think so either,” John says. “But Tommy throws a fit whenever she has to meet that Simon prick. Calls him a rich bastard.”
“He is a rich bastard,” Ada nodded. “She says he just came into his inheritance. Ammunitions,”
“Shit. She hit the jackpot, then,” John commented. “Wonder how that’s gonna go?”
“There’s nothing to wonder, John,” Arthur says. John could only nod his head.
-
You stumbled inside your house around half past midnight. You were both quite tipsy, having drank Pol’s stocks of wine. The Shelby Company Ltd. has been gaining more popularity now, along with the Blinders. Hell, Tommy even posted two Blinders to guard you. “For when I’m not around,” he said.
“Pol’s going to kill me for giving Finn too much cake,” you giggled, leaning on him.
“I reckon you’re banned from Sunday dinners,” Tommy jokes, taking his shoes off. He takes note of how you’re dressed today. “You know you can remove all the fucking things on your body right? Rouge…the jewels. Where’d you get them? Is the rich bastard buttering you up?”
“I like it. Dressing up makes me happy,” you frowned. “I’m allowed to like nice things, right?”
“Right,” his jaw ticked. It should be him who's giving you these gifts…showing you a lavish life. He hated it. “Later?”
“Later,” you nodded. “When I’m banned from Sunday dinners, you wouldn’t let me be left out, right?”
“‘Course not,” he shrugged, pulling you to your bedroom like he owned the place. You didn’t mind. You were happy to see that he was comfortable in your home. “You’re my best girl.”
“That’s what you say to your horses,”
“You’ve got really good horse sense and you’re always on your high horse,” he says, peeling his coat away. He was rummaging in your chest now, looking for clothes he might have left until he settled on a simple white shirt and pyjama pants.
“Yeah, yeah. You and your horse wordplay.” You entered the bathroom to dress down. Just like Tommy, you settled in his shirt and pants. They were more comfortable than singlets and you certainly didn’t want to make Tommy uncomfortable.
He was already waiting for you on the bed when you came back. He pats the space beside him. You obliged. You were looking into each other’s eyes with small smiles, Tommy’s finger trailing down your arm absentmindedly.
“I…” words died in his throat before he could get them out. “I…”
“What is it, Tom? Are you okay?”
“I’ll get you out of here,” he rasps. “I’ll get you out of there and I won’t let you work a day in your life anymore.”
“Tommy,” you sighed. “I can’t—can’t leave this job. It’s all I have,” He tightens his arms around you, afraid that you’ll ask him to let go.
“I know but once I come back from the war—“
“The war?” you asked, removing his arms around you. “War?”
“We enlisted,” he clarifies, trying to gauge your reaction. “Once I come back, I’ll be so fucking rich. I’ll have you. I’ll keep you and you won’t have to lift a finger. We’ll live in a mansion and have servants. Just like what we used to talk about,”
“Tommy, you’re going to war?” you asked, standing from the bed. His eyes watched you settle down shakily on the single chair by the bed. “Fuck. You’re going to war. You’re going to leave me,”
“No, love. Come on, I—“ he grunts, sitting up from his relaxed position.
“It’s war, Tommy! They change people…I don’t want to lose you; do you not get that? Are you not happy here? Is that why you're throwing your life away?”
“I’m not throwing my life away,” he says, a frown. “We’ll be drafted one way or another because we’re poor. Might as well do it now than be forced. Some of my men will still watch over you every now and then. They’ll still make sure that you’re safe. We’ll send letters. Alright?”
“Letters,” you scoffed. “And what if the letters stopped coming?”
“Don’t say that, please,” he begs. “I’m doing this for all of us. The business will be handled by Polly and when I’m back, I’ll make it even bigger. Alright? You have to trust me,” You didn’t even want to ask about the business. You didn’t want to ask why more men wore peaky caps. You didn’t want to ask what the Shelby Company Ltd. really was. Not now.
“I know you will, Tom,” you said. “But I’m scared. For the first time since I’ve known you, you won’t be here. I’m scared,”
Tommy lays his hand on your shoulder. Words he couldn’t say lingered in the air. I’ll marry you once I step foot in England. He didn’t know what else to say; didn’t know if there was still something to say. So, he kneels before you and makes you look at him. You were crying. So afraid, so alone.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“When will you be leaving?”
“I have two more days,” he says. “Will I still see you?”
“Yes, of course,” you said. “You’ll come back for me?”
“Of course. I have a picture of you already in my pocket. I have to make sure to come back to you,” he said. “and everyone else, of course.”
He fishes a necklace from his pocket, his mother’s locket.
“Here,” he said, showing it to you. It was one of the last pieces of jewellery she owned. “Mum gave it to me. You know I’ve always worn it. I want you to wear it now. Think of it as a loan, yeah? You’ll give it back once we see each other again,”
“Tommy, I—“
“I want you to accept it. I want you to see you wear it now. I want to see you wear it before I leave. But most of all I want for us to stay the same,” he says, holding you and kissing your hair softly. You couldn’t push him away. You’ve longed for this your whole life. To be held, to feel loved. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.
“I’m sorry. So, so, so fucking sorry.”
“I don’t think you’re wasting your life away,” you cleared your throat. “I’m so—I’m so proud of you and your bravery. I’m so proud of you but I can’t be fucking happy for you. I don’t want to wake up every day knowing that you’re not here. I don’t want to have to guess if you were alive or not.”
“I am,” he promises. “I’ll be alive. I’ll come back as your Tommy. Just…wait for me, alright?”
You clung onto Tommy two days later by the train. He whispered that he would come back. He said that he will make sure of it. He breathes in the smell of your hair—roses. He envelopes you in his arms once more and turns to leave, never looking back. You knew, in your hysterics, that if he comes back from the war, the same old Tommy you used to know would never be.
PART 2 PART 3
TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​
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restinslices · 9 months ago
Text
Everything
PJO Show Ares x Child!Reader (no gender specified)
Word count: 2459
Summary: Ares supposedly hates kids, so it’s really strange that he comes when you call. (Do not let the summary fool you, this is not fluff. Based on a dream I had a couple days ago. Warning for possible ooc Ares and brief mentions of abuse. Blink and you’ll miss it type shit)
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“I don't wanna say”, Grover fingers fidgeted with each other as he purposefully avoided eye contact with you. 
“We're friends, right?”
“Of course!”
“Then you have to tell me! You spoke to my father, I gotta know what he said! What was he like? I bet he was really cool! Man, I wish I could've been there and talked to him”, you looked down at your shoes and added more misery to your face than was necessary. It was extremely childish and petty but Grover kept refusing to tell you what your father Ares was like. You had to know though. You doubted he brought you up, but you still wanted to know what he said and what he was like when he was just out and about. Grover had the opportunity to have a long talk with him and that was something you'd kill and suffer for. 
“I doubt you'd wanna do that” he mumbled, but you heard him. 
“Why'd you say that?” You asked. 
Grover refused to expound on what he meant… at first. 
Everyone knew Grover couldn't hold water so it didn't take too much prodding before he spilled his guts. 
The memory replayed in your head more than you'd like to admit, and if it were up to you, you'd no longer be a half blood. 
It made you feel pathetic. Tons of gods- no. All the gods were shitty parents. After all, they had children with mortals and left the children on Earth, knowing they'd be hunted down. Plenty of half bloods died in a gruesome painful way and at a young age. Plenty of gods never claimed their children, even if they made it to Camp Half Blood. But Ares did claim you, so you assumed that that meant he cared for you in some way. He even gifted you with a double sided sword. Surely, he must've loved you. 
You were foolish and you hated how foolish you were. You should've known he didn't care. He left you here with mortals and watched as your home life got worse and worse which was due to multiple factors including a piss poor mother and step family, the aura children of Ares give off that makes people around them experience rage and of course the random monster attacks that your family blamed you for. It was as if they thought you begged Ares to be his child. As if you'd ever do something as stupid as that. 
The rain soaked through your hood, making your hair all wet and gross. You were an idiot. You tried coming home for the school year, thinking maybe your family changed. They said they did. They tended to lie a lot though. You got into a huge fight and stormed out and you were in such a hurry that you completely forgot to grab your pouch full of drachmas and you didn't wanna step another foot in that house. So now here you were, outside with freezing cold hands that couldn't be warmed because your hoodie was soaking and you couldn't call Chiron. Perfect.
You checked your pockets once again, hoping to find something other than the lighter and fruit roll up that was there but alas, nothing magically appeared. You held the two objects in your hand and an idea formed in your mind. 
You could always set the fruit roll up on fire as an offering. You could pray to your father and hope he hears you and sends you something to help. 
No. That's incredibly stupid. Could you even light a fruit roll up on fire? It didn't matter. Not only was that the stupidest offering ever but you refused to pray to him. You'd rather sleep out in the rain then sneak inside when your family was gone to get your shit. 
You put the two objects in your pocket and let your head rest on your knees, exhaustion hitting. It wasn't even physical exhaustion. It was all mental and emotional. Like a leech was sucking on you constantly. Or a vampire. You'd prefer that. At least you'd die quicker. 
The hum of a motorcycle filled your ears, getting closer and closer. Best case scenario, it was a neighbor. Worst case scenario, it was a murderer. Honestly, you'd welcome both. 
The hum stopped and a familiar voice made you look up, “rough night”. 
It was him. Ares. God of war. Father to who knew how many. It was someone you definitely did not want to see… or so you thought. Part of you absolutely despised him now and everything to do with him and wanted to rip him apart. The other part of you though still felt an immense amount of joy when you saw him and you wanted to cling to him like a child clings to its favorite toy. If you were alone, you would've screamed. 
Then a thought crossed your mind. You didn't burn anything. You didn't make an offering. 
“You were going to” he said, seeming to read your mind. 
“Why are you here?” you managed to get out after some time of just staring at him. 
“Why do you think I'm here?” he asked and you could tell by his tone he meant it sarcastically. Like “the reason is so obvious. Stop being stupid”. 
Something about that sarcastic and irritated tone made you think back to what Grover told you. 
“Why don't you like me?” You asked and you hadn't meant to. It was supposed to stay in your head. 
He squinted his eyes at you and looked you up and down, “what?”. 
You could've let it go. You could've said nevermind, thanked him and let him help. You couldn't though. You didn't know when you'd have this chance again (the camp visited them but damn, there was a lot of you) and if you did something to make him not like you, you wanted to fix it. But that wasn't your job, right? Parents are supposed to care for their kids. 
You did that a lot. Your mind juggled opposite thoughts and it drove you insane. This was just the latest bit of juggling you'd been doing. 
“Grover said he spoke to you-”
“Who is Grover?”
“Percy's friend. The satyr”. A look of anger flashed in his eyes. You knew he remembered Percy. You didn't give him time to start yelling about the 12 year old that beat him in a fight. “Grover said that he spoke to you. I asked what it was like and he said that you said that you hate kids. Even your own. And when we visit, it's the worst day of the year. So, I was just wondering why you don't like me. Is it something I've done?”. 
Ares just rolled his eyes and sighed, “you're taking that personal?”. 
“It's kinda hard not to”. 
“I came to take you back to camp, not talk about whatever crisis you're having right now”. 
You didn't know if you were angry because of what he said, or because of his effect on others. Either way, blood started rushing to your head. “I'm not asking for a lot. I'm asking for an answer. A simple answer. Why don't you like me?”
“I don't like any of my kids”
“And that makes it better?” You asked in disbelief. Ares just stared at you, emotion void on his face. 
“Why do you do this? You keep having kids even though you hate them. Why?”. 
“It's not that simple and I don't have to explain anything to you”. You wished he'd show emotion. Any sliver of it. He was too calm, too numb. You'd prefer him yelling at you but nothing seemed to phase him. He was talking to you the same way you'd talk to a toddler. 
“It is incredibly simple. Just stop having sex with mortals. You already have Aphrodite -who is a married woman but whatever-” you rushed the last part. You didn't particularly care for the affairs between the gods. “How could your eyes possibly wander?”. 
Seeing him show a sliver of anger when you mentioned Aphrodite only filled you with more rage. That’s what angered him? That’s what got emotion out of him? “Really? That's what gets you? What about me being drenched?”
“You chose to come out here” he said through gritted teeth. If you knew Aphrodite was the key to him showing any piece of human emotion, you would've brought her up earlier. 
“I didn't choose this!” Your voice rose, “I didn't choose to be abandoned by my father and be stuck with a dysfunctional family for the rest of my life. You should be angry at that, not me mentioning Aphrodite. You should be enraged at the thought of anyone putting their hands on me and your hands should be covered in their blood! That is how it should be”. 
“Believe it or not the gods aren't too keen on the idea of killing mortals”
“But turning them into various objects and ruining their lives when it's a boring Tuesday is ok?”. His face went back to being blank and emotionless and your plan to stop talking was scrapped. You weren't even sure what you wanted. You wanted him to show something besides anger. Sadness? Regret maybe? Just something to show that maybe, just maybe, he cared deep down and regretted leaving you. 
“None of us asked for this. You all just decide to create and leave us. And you hating the people you created is… I don't know. And it's so stupid that I've spent years of my life trying to get you to be proud of me, only for it to be impossible!”. 
“I claimed you didn't I?” he defended himself, but you scoffed. 
“That's the bare minimum dad! That's like saying your kids should be grateful because you feed them!” You were full on screaming by now and you wouldn't have been surprised if a neighbor came out to see what the fuss was about. “I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you. You probably hate being called 'dad’ and you don't care. You're never gonna get it”
“I try everyday to make you see me and you do everything in your power to not see me. To not see any of us. I would work myself to death for you. I would betray anyone close to me for you. If you asked me to burn down the world for you, I would. If you asked me to extinguish the sun, I'd find a way to because to me… to me you were everything. You are everything”. 
You couldn't tell if your face was wet from the rain, or from tears of sorrow and anger. It could've been both. Your eyes certainly stung and you hated it. You knew you had every right to be frustrated, but you hated how weak it made you feel. The children of Ares weren't supposed to cry. They were supposed to be headstrong and fight their enemies. They were supposed to be fierce warriors capable of bringing armies down to their knees. They were meant to shed blood, not tears. 
You thought for a second you saw an emotion cross his face. You couldn't pinpoint it though. It happened too fast and there was a good chance you were imagining things. 
“You can go. I'd rather sleep in the rain. I wouldn't wanna be even more of a burden” you spat with such venom you didn't know it was possible. Sure, you could have a bit of a temper but this felt different. It wasn't just anger or annoyance. There was a mix of grieving. 
It went silent for awhile, and the adrenaline you felt slowly went down. Reality started to sink in. You just yelled at a god. People who were known to cause destruction for something as small as “I think my shoes are better than yours”. 
“Are you gonna curse me? Or, I don't know, strangle me with my own shoe laces?”. Ares reached into his pocket and you looked away and closed your eyes. You expected to feel a burning sensation. That's what you assumed being cursed was like. A burning sensation and then you'd lose a limb or something. 
All you felt was something land on your lap. You looked down and saw a red pouch with gold string keeping it closed. You looked up at him, but he didn't say anything. You untied the string and opened the pouch and inside laid a pile of drachmas. 
Now he spoke, “call Chiron or whoever else works at that camp. Don't die out here”. 
“You're leaving?” You asked. You didn't know why you were disappointed. You should've been happy. After all, you just went off on him about how shit he was. 
“I have a busy schedule”. You wanted to ask if he'd be seeing the married woman he slept with or another unfortunate mortal, but you figured you pushed your luck enough today. 
“Thanks uhh…” you debated on calling him dad but instead you called him by his name. “Ares”. Then you remembered some gods could be particularly upset when you used their name. “God of war and all those other honorifics”. 
“Yeah” was all he said before he sped off, leaving you alone once again. You didn't know what he was saying “yeah” to but you didn't have enough time to ask and he probably wouldn't even answer. 
You called Chiron and asked to be brought back to camp but you didn't tell him about the conversation you had with Ares. 
You couldn't get the conversation out of your head, even after you showered and laid down to finally get some rest. 
Of course you kept thinking about the conversation and how lucky you were Ares didn't throw you into the street and run you over. 
Another thing stayed on your mind though. 
You didn't give an offering. You were told the gods would listen if you burned something that mattered, like the thickest piece of meat on your plate. You weren't sure they were actually listening and honestly you thought it was a real asshole condition. 
All you had was some stupid candy and you didn't even burn that and the minute you thought about it, he appeared like he was already watching. 
But you doubted he was watching. You doubted he listened to your prayers at all. 
You were one of his children which was something he hated. He'd claim you, possibly send a gift then be done with you. He didn't listen to you anymore. He didn't watch over you anymore. 
It was a coincidence. That's all it was. 
You were sure of it. 
At least, you tried to be. 
This is definitely ooc Ares but YA’LL KNOW I’M A LITTLE FUCKING SLOW! BE PATIENT WITH ME GOTDAMMIT😭 If you saw any errors, no you did not. I already proofread it once and I don’t feel like doing it again like I typically do. It’s 1am. I should be asleep.
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ma1dita · 9 months ago
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I think I’d be sort of interesting if, for like an alternate ending where Luke is alive and doesn’t betray camp, Luke when he’s older decides to visit his mother but with diyonius reader
the house on a hill
a ‘partners in crime’ alternate universe installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
alternate universe masterpost
words: 663
summary: alternate universe - driving up to mom’s for the weekend & some sweet domesticity - luke castellan x dionysus!reader 
a/n: this was a cute lil way to clear my head! send more luke x trouble asks??
(posted 1/28/23 unbetad)
written in reference to this blurb
Your head bumps against the car window as you jolt awake.
“About time that you woke up, babe,” Luke grins, his eyes still on the road. Blinking slowly, you look around at the trees blurring together as you stare out the window, recognizing where you are. The two of you were driving up from your apartment in Brooklyn, finally going to see his mom for the weekend. With graduation steadily approaching in the next few months, there was a lot to think about.
“How long was I out?” you groan, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. The sun is setting now, and a blue “Welcome to Connecticut! We’re Full of Surprises!” sign whizzes past the passenger window.
“Just an hour, but I got a little lonely,” Luke hums, rubbing circles on your thigh while his other hand is on the wheel. You lace your fingers with his own, watching him yawn. You can tell he needs this, and with all the time your dad drags you back to Montauk for ‘consults’, it’d be nice to get a dose of normal for once.
“Poor baby.”
Laughter spills out of you like a melody as you crack open the still-cold redbull in the cupholder, and he can’t help but admire your side profile as you take big sips. He’s so in love with you, and this weekend will be perfect. It has to be.
“Mmm, want some?”
Your boyfriend takes a sip, smiling when he hears you singing along to a Taylor Swift song. As you hold up an imaginary microphone for him to warble into, the distance to his childhood home gets smaller and smaller, until you spot the white picket fence of the property and squeal in excitement.
“Hurry up, I wanna see your mom!” you giggle, stomping your feet onto the car floor as he drives up the grassy path and honks loudly.
“Hey, I thought I was your favorite Castellan, trouble…” Luke says and his voice trails off when he sees his mom peeking through the kitchen window, waving at you.
“Whatever you say, angelface.”
You almost hop out of the car and run up the steps to hug her, gentle hands pulling you into a feeling of comfort only mothers can give.
“Hi Ms. Castellan!”
“Oh honey, I told you May is fine, or Mom. You’re already my favorite kid!” she grins, her smile exactly like her son’s, and the both of you turn to hear Luke grumbling as he pops the trunk to get your bags.
“Hi mommy,” Luke chuckles, bumping your hip to push you into the house as he kisses May’s cheek, “Stop being so obvious, you’re gonna spoil my surprise!” His hands fumble with the bags as he props a knee up to readjust his hold on your backpack and May’s hands reach out to help him.
“No, it’s okay, I got it, I got it…”
May catches the ring box that falls out of Luke’s back pocket, holding it to her chest with a knowing smile.
“You’re always gonna need some help, whether you admit it or not, my love.” She tucks the box into the pocket of his flannel shirt, patting it before she pinches his cheek.
“Luckily, you have a woman like her. Bless her heart for what you’ll put her through,” May says laughing at his scrunched-up expression.
“Guess I’m just scared she’ll say no.”
Luke sighs, looking at her like she holds the answers to the world.
“She’ll be crazy if she says no,” she reasons, and they both listen to you setting the table in the dining room.
“No, she’ll be crazy if she says yes. That’s why I want to marry her,” he snorts, bringing the bags in through the doorway.
“Um, mom? I think the cookies are burning!” you call out, sounding panicked.
The weight of the box in his pocket feels heavy, but his heart has never felt so light and sure of what’s to come. 
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(pictures are not representative of reader's appearance and gender, simply added visuals for funsies)
luke taglist (struck out won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @targaryenluvs @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @b0ok-lover
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the-duchess-of-domination · 11 months ago
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Thanksgiving
here is a Thanksgiving fantasy to put you all in the mood.
your boyfriend is a people pleaser who has a hard time saying no. he fears disappointing people, and because of that you’ve got quite the line-up of Thanksgiving dinner invites: Friendsgiving with your mutual friends, Thanksgiving with his folks, Thanksgiving at your parent’s, a Thanksgiving dinner at his work. it’s a week long affair, and you’ve even got multiple dinners in one day with little time to recover. you slave away in the kitchen, making a new dish to bring to each dinner. your boyfriend, of course, is your taste tester.
the first dinner at your parent’s house is uneventful. this is his first holiday with your family, so he wants to make a good impression. he fervently eats anything that is put in front of him, and even though he doesn’t have room left for your mother’s sweet potato pie, he eats two slices.
the next day his work is having a Thanksgiving dinner. he brings you to meet his coworkers, and he wants to schmooze and charm them so much he takes a helping of Tanya’s mash potatoes, Carl’s filling, Genevieve’s green bean casserole. Not wanting to offend anyone, he fills a flimsy paper plate with so much food that it begins to bend. against all odds, every bite ends up in his rapidly tightening belly.
now it’s Thanksgiving Day, and you’ve got his family’s Thanksgiving in the early afternoon and your mutual Friendsgiving in the evening. your boyfriend’s mother gives him hearty scoops. that’s her little boy, after all. your boyfriend is noticeably petering out, but he doesn’t want to make his mother worry. he finishes his plate with an achingly full stomach, trained from the days of when he was a kid and wasn’t allowed to leave the dinner table without finishing his supper.
when it’s time for you to head to your Friendsgiving, you drive, and he sits in the passenger seat with his head against the headrest, wincing and cringing at every pothole you hit.
“you okay?” you ask him. “you’ve been awfully quiet.”
“yeah. just tired.” he lies.
at Friendsgiving, he listlessly plays with his turkey, pushing it around his plate with a fork, an elbow on the table and a hand supporting his head. while he doesn’t empty the plate, he hardly has anything to scrape into the trash.
when everyone retires to the living room, your boyfriend disappears. you search your friend’s house and see the bathroom door is closed. you knock.
“honey?” you say.
“hm?” your boyfriend replies.
“can i come in?”
“one sec.”
when you enter your boyfriend is sitting on the edge of the tub. he stands up quickly.
“what are you doing in here?” you ask.
“i just needed a minute.”
you look down to see a sliver of his white underwear. he zips up his fly, and sucks in his distended stomach to button his pants.
“are you okay?”
“yeah. it’s nothing. i just have a stomachache.”
you find this adorable. in an effort to get on everyone’s good side, to flatter them by eating their food, your boyfriend has given himself a terrible bellyache.
while your friends laugh over a card game at the coffee table, your boyfriend is distracted on the sofa, rubbing his stomach through the pocket of his hoodie. you put your hand in the pocket and start rubbing his belly, touching his cold hand with your warm one. his poor belly is hard and tight from everything he’s eaten in the past four days.
“does it hurt bad?” you whisper, and when he nods you say “do you want to leave early?”
he shakes his head. “we’re supposed to be having fun with our friends. i don’t want us to leave on my account.”
a mutual friend brings over a slice of pumpkin pie topped with whip cream. she offers it to your boyfriend. in horror you watch your boyfriend beam a fake smile and then graciously take the plate from her. the fork goes in his mouth. you feel his body shudder and his stomach growl angrily against your hand
what will Christmas bring?
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acewritesfics · 10 months ago
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Hopelessly In Love | Tommy Shelby
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⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.
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Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Request: No
Fic Type: Imagine
Warnings: Sarcasm, teasing, two idiots in love.
Word Count: 1,821
TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
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“I need you," Y/N hears from behind her and turns around to see her best friend standing there, looking exasperated. 
“Good afternoon, Y/N. I sincerely hope your day is going well,” she begins sarcastically as she finishes hanging her mother's latest shipment of dresses on the racks.
Y/N works in her mother's boutique. A boutique in Small Heath sounded ridiculous considering the surroundings but her mother had opened the store, claiming that women needed a nice place to shop among the smoke and grime. “Well Thomas, it’s going so well that I’m sure nothing will bother me for the rest of the day, even when my best friend storms in like some neanderthal claiming he needs me like it’s a matter of life or death.” 
Tommy stood there, his hands in his pocket, looking at her unimpressed, his brows creased into a frown. A smug smirk stretches across her face. 
“What can I do you for, Tommy?” She asks, moving back behind the counter. 
“I need you to go to the races with me,” he tells her removing his hands from his pockets and stepping closer to the counter.  
“What? Has Hell frozen over or is it finally the day women have stopped throwing themselves at Thomas Shelby’s feet?” She teases her childhood friend. “Oh, Tommy, it must be hard,” she says pouting, giving her him a look of false sympathy.  
“Shut it, you,” he glares at her, elbows resting on the counter as he leans forward. “I’m being serious.” 
“Why do you want to take me to the races?” She questions him. They hadn’t been to the races together since before the war. It was sort of their tradition, one that was so easily forgotten when the war was over, and Tommy had thrown himself into making a better name for the Shelby’s. Instead of making the name better, he also made it fearful. “Why don’t you take that pretty barmaid you seem so smitten with. Or Lizzy, who’s more than eager to have a proper date with you.” 
“Why should I take them when I can take you, eh?” he asks, watching her as she busies herself with the clutter on the counter. She looks unsure but Tommy can tell that she’s thinking hard about it. “What are you afraid of?” 
“That you’ll forget all about the barmaid and fall hopelessly in love with me again,” she quips with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just like when we were kids. You could never resist my charm and we don't want to break the barmaid's poor treacherous heart.” 
Y/N couldn't deny that she did like Grace, the barmaid Harry had hired, at first. She seemed lovely and got along quite well with her until she realized Grace was asking her a lot of questions about Tommy. At first, she thought the blonde woman fancied her best friend and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Grace wasn't the first woman to end up with a crush on the blue-eyed devil. Tommy wasn't hard to fall in love with. But when she started asking her about the Shelby family business and the Peaky Blinders, she became suspicious that Grace's interest in Tommy wasn't as genuine as she made it out to be. And then there was the time she caught Grace eavesdropping and snooping around. She began to put two and two together. 
An Irish inspector and a pretty Irish woman, step foot in Small Heath at the same time. The barmaid, who's never actually worked in a pub before now, conveniently gets herself a job at the Garrison, the pub the Shelby Brothers frequent often and just so happens to set her eyes on the leader of the Peaky Blinders.  
She'd tried to talk to Tommy about it, but the stubborn man wouldn't hear any of it so she went to Polly who had also done the math. For a man who claimed to be smart, he became the stupidest idiot she's ever met when it comes to a pretty face. 
“I knew that love tea would have consequences,” he smiles thinking of the times they sat with his mother while she did what she called magic. He purposefully ignores her comment about Grace. He didn't want to talk or think about her right now. His sole focus is on convincing Y/N to go to the races with him, like old times and how he'd promised her all those years ago. “Maybe it’s why I never stopped being hopelessly in love with you.” 
"Don't tell Grace that," she says looking back at him before moving on to inspect the next dress, a pretty deep forest green with black beading and a black lace hem. 
"Fuck Grace," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "This is about us." 
"There is no us, Tommy," she sighs and moves on to the red dress that's not as pretty as the green.  
"Just come to the races with me," he begins. "I haven't taken you in a while. Let me take you again." 
"Do I have a choice?"  
He shakes his head, "No." 
She looks at him, her brows creased into a frown showing her frustration.  
"Wear the green one," he adds, dropping £7 onto the counter.  
"It's only worth £5," she informs him, knowing there is no point in arguing with him. Once Tommy was set on something, there was no stopping him. 
"Buy something to go with it," he suggests. "Maybe some new shoes," he adds as he takes the dress off the mannequin and hands it to her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek before he starts making his way out of the store. "I'll pick you up at 8:30 tomorrow morning." 
"I despise you, Thomas Shelby," she calls after him. 
"And I love you, Y/N L/N" he says when he reaches the door and turns to look at her once more. "Hopelessly love you." 
Her smile goes from ear to ear this time as she watches him leave, with a slight shake of her head. She turns to go back to the counter to wrap the dress up and startles when she sees her mother standing there, a knowing smirk on her lips.  
"It's about time that boy made his move," her mother says, taking the dress from her and folds it neatly on the paper they use to wrap the clothing in. "Better late than never, I guess." 
"It's not like that, Mum," she says picking up the £7 Tommy left and placing it inside the till.  
"Of course, it is," her mum argues, walking towards where the shoes are and picks out a pair of black t-strap heels, to match the beading on the dress and brings them over to the counter. "Thomas Shelby has been in love with you since you were both five years old and you've been in love with him for just as long," she adds placing the shoebox on the counter next to the dress. "Don't waste any more time, Darling." 
"I do love him," she admits. "Some days I wonder why." 
"And you'll have plenty more of those days," her mum chuckles. "Now get out of here and go rest up for tomorrow."  
"I love you, mum," she says hugging the woman who gave her life.  
"I love you too, sweetheart." 
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"I must admit, I did miss this," Y/N says, sitting across the table from Tommy as they sat in the VIP area of the racecourse, in the forest green with black beading dress he paid for and heels her mother picked out. 
After a successful day at the races, they made their way up to the VIP lounge where they got a drink, a meal and did some dancing. Tommy was unable to keep his eyes off her from the moment he saw her standing on the curb waiting for him to pick her up. It made driving a little difficult since he tried his hardest to concentrate on the road and not the beautiful woman sitting next him. And then when they got to the races, he glared down, silently threatening the men who dared to let their eyes linger on her.  
"Do you remember the first time we snuck in here?" he asks her, a soft smile on his lips. Leaning back, he watches her as she thinks back to it.  
They were 16 at the time and she had come along with him, his brothers and his father. He'd been to the races plenty of times before, but she'd never been until that day. They both got dressed in their finest clothes back then, which were nowhere near the standard of clothing they were in today. Tommy had tried to talk his way into the VIP section, using that silver tongue of his that he had been born with. Unfortunately, it didn't work, and they had found a space in the back that they could use to sneak into the elegant area reserved for the wealthy.  
They'd spent 10 minutes in the area before they were escorted out and off the grounds of the racecourse and were made to wait there until his dad returned from being inside. That night Tommy had made her a promise. 
"I promise that one day, I will buy you the prettiest dress and we'll go back there, and they'll let us in. When they do, we'll spend the night dancing and when I take you home afterwards, I'll kiss you goodnight." 
She feels her heart skip a beat as she remembers word for word what he had promised her. As she got older, she had always played it off as a silly childish promise that held no real meaning.  
Tommy stood up from his chair and moved round the table, standing beside her as he held his hand out towards her. "Let's go home, Love." 
Y/N takes his hand and stands up, grabbing her clutch off the table and lets him lead her back to his vehicle.  
Once they arrive at the passenger's side, Tommy decides he can't wait until he drops her off home. Stopping her from getting into the car, he pulls her close, a hand on her waist and the other caresses her cheek. 
"Tommy," her voice comes out as a whisper as her heart jumps into her throat at the little space left between them.  
"I can't wait," he breathes, his voice soft as he plants his lips to hers in a soft and sweet kiss. Both their eyes flutter closed as a rush of warmth envelopes them as they pull each other as close as they can, deepening the kiss. 
Tommy is the one to end it when they start to become breathless. "I am hopelessly in love with you." 
"I know," she says, unable to hide her grin as she kisses him again. "I am hopelessly in love with you too, Thomas Shelby." 
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devoutekuna · 4 months ago
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Meeting their new siblings
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Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto
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Sukuna-
"Why does he look like that daddy?" Pointing to the baby, her brother was currently fighting back a sneeze, so of course they made an ugly face. "Cause he takes after your mother" your husband always made sly remarks about you despite being one of the prettiest women he's ever seen. "Leave mummy alone!" Trying to hit the man. Only for her hand to be caught by him. "You take after her too, with that bratty attitude" now dangling in the air by her hand. "Shut up ugly!" Kicking him in the chest.
Nanami-
He had just picked his daughter up from a relative's house, strolling into the house with his daughter running Infront of him to try and race him for whoever gets to see the baby first, unbeknownst to her, he was at the hospital as you gave birth so he already met his daughter. "Daddy look!" Pointing at the baby, she was asleep in your lap. "Quieten down sweetheart" he seemed more tired than you, despite you being the one who actually gave birth. Then again, he always seemed tired and stressed so it wasn't anything new. Placing himself right next to you. "Isn't she cute?" Your newborn daughter was currently asleep on your lap, so she couldn't get the best look at her face.
Geto-
His daughter hates the fact that she'd shave to share her father, though she loved her new siblings. Poking at her newborn sibling as he laid sleeping in their crib. "Daddy, he won't get up" dragging him over to look at the baby. "Cause they're sleeping" stopping her hand from waking up his newborn. "Wake him up, I want to play with him" looking up at her father as she tried to sneak her hand back into the crib. "No, leave them" trying to drag her away only to be met with restraints from her as she held onto the side.
Gojo-
"The number after twelve" that's all you could hear, normally your son would never talk to himself, your daughter was asleep in your shared bedroom, your husband downstairs with you. And your son being left upstairs in the room closest to your bedroom..
"Baby, are you in my bedroom?" Walking up the stairs, leaving Satoru downstairs to fend for himself. Walking into your bedroom to find your eldest child sat in the crib putting stickers all over her new swaddle. Gasps erupted from your mouth as you saw her, fortunately she was fast asleep. Having no words to come out as you saw them, quickly picking up the toddler and putting him on the bed.
Toji-
"Eat baby" this is why he never left his daughter alone with younger children, she was so out of pocket. Trying to stuff a bottle of milk into the little boy's mouth. "Eat" the poor kid was crying his eyes out. Though from her perspective, he was just crying because he was hungry not in pain or anything like that. "Leave him alone." Sighing in response, out of the two of his children, his newborn son was one of the hardest to soothe. He could cry for hours on end before falling asleep from exhaustion. Grabbing the poor baby. "But he needs to eat" unwrapping the swaddle. "He's not a toy".
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joyfulfxckery · 2 years ago
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Okay so I saved a worm earlier, and I'm just like OMG IDEA!
Ghost & König reaction to s/o saving a worm 🪱
cause they my husbands
😌✨️ Anywhore
You guys were walking back from the store that was down the street from your house, and it was slightly raining. He was carrying the heaviest bag, and you were carrying the lightest one because you wanted to help.
Getting on the same block as your place, you stop and hold out the bag for him to hold with urgency, " Quick, take it."
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Simon 👻 Riley
"What?"
The poor man is so confused as he takes the bag
Watching you randomly bend down towards the wet pavement just increases it
It doesn't entirely click until he sees the wiggling worm that's working it's way to the road
Even then, he's still relatively confused watching you
Trying to pick up the small slimy thing on the concrete
What makes it worse is that it's a baby
So it's so friggin' small
Si smiles underneath his black surgical mask when you start cussing out the worm cause you can't pick it up
When you finally do get it in your hand you hold it up so he can see
"Wormy wormy wormy" you say with a bigger smile of your own
He stands closer to the grass when you move onto it to put the worm farther away from the sidewalk
Like your own personal bodyguard
Who are we kidding he's always your bodyguard
He stands with a loving smile watching while you put the worm on the grass
Telling it to stay safe away from the sidewalk or the road
"They'll get you squooshed." You say
Walking back over to him with a proud smile
He moves the bags in his hands so he has one free to pull you in by your waist
Using the hand with the bags to pull down his mask so he can quickly peck you on the lips before pulling it back up
"My sweet girl/boy."
Making you smile at the praise before reaching for the bag you were holding
With your free hand, you grab onto his and pull him along
"Lessgoooo!"
It gives him a sense of pride watching you care and protect something, no matter how small it is
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König 👑
This man would also be confused
Unlike Simon, he takes the bag quickly from your hand while looking around for anything you may find important
When he sees you bend down to reach for the worm, he visibly relaxes
Watches with a smile as you struggle to pick it up
He chuckles, taking the gloves - that I can see him keep in a pocket just in case - out of a pocket
They have the grip on the fingers
Easy pick up of wiggly smiley creatures
He bends down himself while putting one on and within a couple tries, picks up the worm
You clap, smiling up at him. While he tells you to hold out your hand, you do, and he plops the worm in the middle of your palm
Both of you stand up, and you take a step over to the plants and grass to put the worm down in the middle
Taking a couple of steps back over to König who's eyes are crinkled up in a huge smile
Which makes you smile just as wide
He's already taken off the glove, the bare hand being held out for you
"The bag?"
"I've got it, Liebe." His voice gentle as he intertwines his fingers with yours
"Good eye, meine Königin"
"Thank you, my King." You lean against his arm as you continue your journey home.
It makes him love you even more, though he never thought that possible.
And in both accounts, when you get to your homes, the bags get put down, and they push you in front of the skin to get you to wash your hands 🩵✨️
Thanks for reading ♡
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xzaddyzanakinx · 6 months ago
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Ten: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, oral, dick piercing, spit, back shots, GEN. SMUT[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Anakin is so annoyed with his mother. He discovers something and Ghost has plans for it. [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+
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Diary Entry: August 16th
I thought for sure you’d kick me to the curb. But just like always, you never fail to amaze me. You like the side of me that no one else does, you like both of me, that’s a miracle if I’ve ever seen one.
I don’t even like both of me.
You chose me, for whatever reasons you might have, pure curiosity or genuine care and interest… I don’t really care. All I care about is that you chose me. You want me. Me. All of me.
You’re choosing both of me. Separately. But soon you’ll love both sides of me, you’ll love me as a whole. That’s something no one has ever given to me. No one has ever wholly loved me, partially because I’ve never shown anyone all of me, partially because I used to fail miserably at balancing the black and white of my being.
Anakin the perfect boyfriend and future husband deserves your daylight love. Ghost the purposely imperfect and probably less than sane guy deserves your midnight curiosities.
I like this. Separating myself this way, it’s more manageable. I’ve tried for years and years to just be Anakin who is always pretending to be the man of the year, but is still just a tad too… off putting.
To everyone back home, I’ll always be the strange guy who only had two friends, himself and the neighbor kid who was only such good friends with him because they grew up in close proximity.
Anakin, the weird kid who didn’t know how to smile properly.
Anakin, the creep who stared too much, not at anything inappropriate. I wasn’t leering at women or anything, it’s just creepy for people to be looked at by someone who has ‘dead eyes’ and ‘doesn’t blink enough’.
Anakin, the ‘well he’s trying’ boy. The poor little guy who brought Brianna a handful of nettles on the playground, tied together with worms. ‘He meant well! He’s trying to be nice sweetie.’
Anakin, the ‘turn out your pockets before you come inside’ kid. You come home with a dead squirrel in your hoodie pocket once and your mother will never trust you not to have another stashed somewhere.
‘hey, it’s not that I don’t think you’re great! I do! You’re just not… great for me.’
‘please don’t look at me like that, it makes me uncomfortable’
‘Get away from my yard, I know what you’re doing!’
‘Who’s cat is that? Anakin! Where did you get this?’
‘Ani, you can’t keep doing this. I can’t protect you forever!’
‘Don’t you want to have friends? A girlfriend? To grow up and have a family? Don’t you want that?’
I was always Anakin-weird as hell, psycho, town freak-Skywalker.
In your daylight love I can be Anakin-nice guy, perfect smile, warm hugs-Skywalker.
I can shove everything else into The Pit until I’m ready to put on that Ghostface mask and take off my mask of normalcy. Weird isn’t it? Putting on a mask just to take off another one?
I like it though. I really like it.
I can be normal for you. I can. I can be normal. As long as Ghost can be let out of The Pit sometimes. No more balancing on the edge for Anakin. No more hiding and pretending and suffocating myself with the act of being a person.
If I can flood Anakin with all the things I’ve learned over the years, all the knowledge I’ve stored away in my mind’s filing cabinets… then you can have the man you deserve.
You’ll just have to come to terms with the fact that once Ghost makes his appearance, your Anakin is gone until further notice.
I think you’ll do well with that. You’re already handling it swimmingly.
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Diary Entry: August 17th
You left me a note of your own this morning, a question I wasn’t expecting in the slightest. When I walked into the kitchen and finally cracked open the diary you’d left laying there for me I was shocked. Absolutely and completely shocked.
‘When are you coming home?’
You’re asking Ghost to visit you? For real? I don’t even know how to react, I never thought you’d be the one requesting the company of my masked presence. I guess giving you an option, proving your feelings and your well-being mattered most to me was the right move.
Now I just have to figure out what I’m going to do. I’ll have to plan. I need to think.
I have to be so much more careful now.
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Date
August 18th
This is the first time Ghost hasn’t responded when you’ve contacted him. It’s been three days of nothing. He’s not been inside your house at all, no gifts, nothing has been moved, your cat’s bowl is empty when you get home.
His absence is more unsettling that his presence.
You’re beginning to wonder if you’ve angered him by asking about his next visit, was that the wrong thing to do? Did it freak him out? Asking about his plans… did it make him uncomfortable? Or is he tired of the chase now? Now that you’re interested… is it possible he’s lost the adrenaline rush of it all and he won’t be back at all?
There’s no time to ponder or worry right now, yet here you are staring into the foggy mirror in your bathroom post-shower.
“Hey sweetheart?” Anakin’s cheery voice floated to you from under the door.
“In here!” You called out, opening the door up and wiping off the mirror, grateful to have been pulled out of your mind.
“Want help picking something out?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your middle, pressing his nose to the crown of your head to smell your freshly washed hair.
“Mmm yeah if you want.” You nodded, smiling at him in the mirror.
“You excited?” He grinned, poking your sides to hear you giggle.
“Yeah… a little bit nervous though to be honest.” You confessed.
“What? Why? They’ll like you, I have no doubts.” He said with a reassuring squeeze to your shoulders.
“I know, it’s just… what if they don’t?” You asked nervously, looking away from his intense gaze in the mirror.
“They will.” He whispered kissing your temple.
“But what if they don’t?”
“They will, but, if for some reason they don’t then they’re stupid.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But I know they will okay?”
“But Ani I’m worr-“
“Hey.” He said sharply, catching the words before they could leave your lips. “That’s enough.” He said in a softer tone.
He sighed, grabbing the hair brush from the sink countertop. He started brushing through your wet tangles, starting at the ends and working his way up.
“You’re important to me. They know that.” Anakin whispered, kissing your shoulder. “They know you’re something special, trust me. I’ve never brought anyone to meet them before.”
“Seriously?” You whipped your head around with a horrified expression on your face.
“Yeah seriously.” He nodded. “I’ve never felt like this for anyone else.” He gently directed your head back to face the mirror so he could continue brushing your hair.
“That makes it even worse!” You squeaked, slumping over against the sink, your arms crossed on the cold Formica top with your forehead rested on them.
“Why?” He asked as he sat the brush aside and placed his hand on your back, rubbing up and down the soft fabric of the towel around you.
“I’m the first girl you’re bringing home!” You said exasperatedly, “they’re gonna be expecting someone like… like super great and amazing.”
“You are super great and amazing.” He laughed, squeezing your hip and patting it gently.
“But-“
“Baby stop.” He said softly. “You’re gonna work yourself up all over nothin’. Please, just trust me okay? They’re gonna think you’re perfect.”
“Okay.” You sighed, standing back up and turning around to hug him tightly. “Alright. Let’s get ready then.”
“I’m ready.” He said gesturing to his tight grey crewneck and ripped black jeans. “All fancy and shit.”
“I wouldn’t say fancy, but I would say hot.” You grinned.
“Stop.” He chuckled, “should I go change? I can’t have you drooling over me at the dinner table with my parents.”
“No, no don’t change.” You shook your head with a giggle. “I can wait.”
“You can wait?” He gave you a devilishly toothy smile. “Wait for what darlin’? Does baby need some attention?”
He picked you up and sat you on the sink counter, giving your ass a firm squeeze. Immediately bringing one hand to your cheek, his thumb on your chin, he tilted your head to the side and hovered his lips just over your skin. Barely grazing the softness of his lips up the length of your neck to the dip beneath your ear. His free hand rubbing up and down your side, as he finally pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to your sensitive flesh.
“My girl only waits when I say so.” He whispered, nipping your earlobe.
He nuzzled into your neck, bringing your ass to the edge of the sink with one arm, using the same hand to slip beneath your towel and travel up your abdomen. The towel fell from where it was tightly tucked at your chest, Anakin’s hand cupping your breast gently as he thumbed at your nipple.
His lips soldered to yours in a passionate caress of lips and tongues, you could taste the minty flavor of the gum he constantly chewed, the forever lingering ghost of cigarettes and the delicious savory flavor that was uniquely him.
He was so good at distracting you with his mouth on yours that he could get away with just about anything and you’d never know until it was too late. Just like now, when you heard his belt buckle clank against the bathroom tiles. You couldn’t help but smile, it was something so simple, but it was one of your favorite things.
The sound will forever be associated with every kiss, every touch, every gasp and breath he’d given you and every intimate moment to come. The jangle of his belt buckle coming loose meant falling apart in his arms, it meant love without saying it aloud.
Anakin snickered as he teased your opening with one finger, swirling it around the outside, never fully dipping inside.
“Greedy little pussy.” His deep bedroom voice never failed to conjure up a gush of slick to your already drenched cunt. “So fucking wet already.”
“Mhm.” You nodded, wiggling your hips closer to his hand or at least you tried to, Anakin held you firmly in place, tsking at your attempt.
“See? Greedy.” He chuckled but gave in anyway, finally pushing in one digit to twirl around your gummy walls while he pumped in and out slowly.
“Can’t help it.” You panted, breathing heavily despite the relief of getting what you wanted, you needed more. “Missed you Ani.”
“Oh poor thing, I missed you too.” He cooed, adding a second finger while he rolled his wrist as he thrusted his fingers deeper.
Just as you were about to speak again, the shrill sound of your phone alarm blared next to you on the counter top, making you both jump.
“Jesus! what the fuck.” He snorted, “pause baby.” He said as he reached over to turn it off and check the time.
“I’m so glad you set shit like that or else we’d never get anywhere on time.” He said with a smile. “Now, hop down and let me bend you over.”
“What we’re doing a quickie?” You teased as you did as requested, sliding off the sink and obediently bending at the waist for him.
“As much as I hate it, yes.” He sighed. “You know I like to take my time.”
He said as he rubbed his rough palm over the swell of your ass, tugging his boxers down with his other hand. He shoved his palm under your chin and tapped your cheek.
“Spit.” His voice was rough and gritty, like he he was straining, fighting not to ram himself into you right that very second.
You spit into his hand, earning a mumbled: “Atta girl.”
He slicked his cock with your saliva, stroking himself quickly with the head of his cock pressed to your entrance, pleasuring himself but just torturing you with the heat of his length.
“Ani!” You whined, pushing your hips back against him.
You’d done exactly what he wanted. The second you pushed back he rammed his cock deep inside your pulsing heat. He set a brutal pace, wrapping one arm around your chest. Your hands instinctively flew up to hold onto his muscled forearm, his grip tightened and you gasped in surprise.
“Christ Anakin.” You breathed out, your eyes wide with shock at this sudden change of pace.
He was a slow and sensual lover, he liked to take his sweet time and caress every curve and kiss every centimeter of flesh that he could reach. But this was completely different, this was pure hunger, hips snapping against your ass at a punishing pace.
His other arm came down your stomach and spread your pussy lips apart to press and pinch the little hard nub that would have you shaking beneath him.
The way he was breathing so heavily in your ear, the hot air fanning over your cheek, it only heightened the feeling. Sending goosebumps down your skin and perking up your nipples again. The sound of your wetness was loud enough to hear with each and every plunge of his cock.
“You like it like this baby?” He chuckled, “sounds like you like it.”
“Uh huh.” You nodded rapidly, gripping his arm tightly as a particularly sharp streak of lightning shot through you.
Your pussy clenched down around his cock and you closed your eyes to concentrate on the feeling the metal jewelry at the tip of his cock gave you as it stroked your insides roughly.
“Making such pretty noises,” he moaned, tilting your head back and to the side using your hair, to properly reach your mouth so he could ravage you with his tongue just as he was with his dick.
“C’mon baby, let me hear it.” He panted, sucking your lip between his teeth.
“That’s it, yeah there’s my girl.” He laughed, watching your eyes roll back until just the whites were visible. Your eyes fluttered shut as your cunt pulsed around him.
“Fuck… Fuck that’s- right there… please?” You whined, trapping his hand right where it was with your fingers digging into his wrist.
“Good manners.” He praised, licking along the length of your jaw. “Good manners baby, so proud.”
“Just like this huh?” He questioned teasingly, a smirk on his lips caught your attention in the foggy mirror. “You like the piercing don’t you baby? Feels good doesn’t it?”
“Fuck yeah.” You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut tight while you waited for him to push you over the edge. “L-love it. Don’t ever fucking take it out again.”
“Sure thing baby.” He snickered. “You ready sweetheart? Getting close aren’t you?”
“You can cum.” He said as you nodded, his forehead now resting on your shoulder as he drilled into you, rolling your clit between his finger and thumb.
The coil that had been wound tightly in your core snapped with his permission, a high pitched groan eeked out from between your gritted teeth, your cunt leaking down his shaft as he fucked you through the high.
“Lean down.” He said as he pulled out abruptly, leaving you gaping and gasping for breath.
“Perfect.” He groaned, one hand on your waist as you pressed your torso against the sink counter.
He stroked his cock wildly, his fingers digging into the plush of your waist, squeezing soothingly when his chin dropped to his chest and he stiffened up, holding his breath. All you could hear was the sound of his slick hand pumping his swollen length over your ass.
Until finally you felt the warm spurts of cum splatter on your skin, the viscous fluid dribbling down your lower spine until it slid over your ass hole.
“Fuck, that looks so damn pretty.” He breathed heavily, standing back to take in his art work.
“I should take a picture.” He whispered, kneeling behind you with a hand under each ass cheek, he licked up his own cum with a satisfied hum.
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Approximately an hour after Anakin defiled you in the steamy confines of your bathroom, you were walking hand in hand into one of the nicer restaurants on the outer circle of the city. Meeting his mother terrified you, his stepfather not so much. Anakin didn’t grow up with him, he wasn’t a staple of his childhood.
But his mother was. She was a single parent, worked so incredibly hard to provide for herself and her son. She made sure he had everything he needed and then some, she was truly a saint.
“Chill out.” Anakin whispered, squeezing your hand gently. “You’re okay.”
You nodded and silently let Anakin pull you along behind the host who was leading you to the table where his mother and stepdad waited for you both.
You laid eyes on his mother first and the smile that spread across your lips was genuine. As soon as you saw her your worries started to slip into the backseat of your mind. She exuded a calming atmosphere, she seemed so serene and unbothered. What you’d give to live life like that.
You could see where Anakin got his comforting nature from, especially as she stood up and extended her hand to you. The gentle smile and warmth in the crinkle of her eyes was enough to melt your heart.
“I’m Shmi.” She introduced herself in a soft tone, looking to her side where her husband sat. “This is Cliegg, Anakin’s stepfather.” He gave you a nod and warm smile after clapping Anakin on the back in an awkward side hug.
“It’s great to meet you guys!” You chirped, introducing yourself quickly.
“You too sweetie.” Shmi smiled, moving to envelope her son in a hug.
“Hey momma.” Anakin chuckled, squishing her shorter frame in a big bear hug. “Miss ya.”
“Missed you too hon.” She said quietly, patting his chest before returning to her seat.
She gave Anakin a little smile of approval when he pulled your chair out for you to slide into, you wanted to gush about how grateful you were that she’d raised him to be such a gentleman but you got the feeling that she already knew.
The four of you engaged in a bit of small talk while looking over the menu options, you refrained from even picking up the menu, getting an odd look from Cliegg who just chuckled and shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘suit yourself’. The waiter returned with ice water for everyone and a bottle of wine for the table, getting ready to take orders with their pad and pen at the ready.
After Anakin’s mother and her husband ordered, Shmi looked at you expectantly but you just gave her a small smile as Anakin ordered for the both of you.
“Anakin.” She chided him after the waiter left. “She’s perfectly capable of speaking for herself.”
“I know she is.” He said firmly. “But she shouldn’t have to when I’m perfectly capable of doing it for her.”
“Shmi it’s okay really.” You laughed light, knocking Anakin’s foot with your own as a warning. “I prefer it honestly. I think it’s sweet.”
She gave you an odd look, her face was soft just as it had been the whole night so far, but her eyes conveyed something that you couldn’t quite place.
“Alright sweetie.” She conceded and nodded, the look passing over her eyes just as quickly as it appeared.
Anakin’s arm slid around your waist momentarily to offer some comfort, gently squeezing your hip and tapping his thumb rhythmically while he jumped straight back into the conversation he was having with his stepdad.
“So, Anakin’s told me quite a bit about you.” Shmi said warmly. “He said you’re a waitress and you’re taking classes at the college?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” You nodded happily. “The Bluebird Diner, it’s a real great place. Anakin’s a big fan of the butterscotch pie.” You smiled.
“The college… yes I’m taking classes. They’re all going well but I’m not set on a major yet and it’s getting to be the time that I decide.” You sucked in an anxious breath, giving her a nervous look.
“Well that’s perfectly fine.” She said, surprising you with her acceptance of your unplanned career. “I dropped out after my freshman year and didn’t complete my degree until Anakin was in highschool.” She explained.
“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow, glancing at Anakin’s side profile while he spoke to his stepfather. “Do you mind if I ask why?”
“Why I dropped out?” She asked, leaning back in her chair. “Well it was for a few reasons. Mostly because it’s difficult to work, educate yourself and raise a child alone.”
“I can imagine it would be.” You agreed with a humored smile, expecting to be met with a similar expression by Shmi.
Though you weren’t, instead she had a strange sort of reminiscent look about her. Not the fuzzy feeling of nostalgic reminiscing, more of a moment of remembering something unpleasant.
“Yes.” She nodded, “Anakin didn’t make it any easier.”
“Oh…” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at her sudden shift in demeanor.
It seems she noticed your body language change and she quickly corrected herself by breaking out into a smile, sitting back up straighter in her seat.
“But what kid doesn’t?” She laughed lightly, reaching out to pat your hand affectionately.
“Right,” you nodded, chalking up her strange switch up as a mother remembering her rowdy son. It must be hard, seeing him grown up and finally bringing a girl to meet her.
“So how did you two meet?” Shmi asked, turning in her seat to face you fully, giving you her full attention. “Anakin said you’re neighbors?”
“Yeah! Yeah that’s how we met officially.” You nodded.
“Officially?”
“Well we found out after we’d talked a few times that we actually met at the bar he works at.” You explained, “he made a drink for me. I thought he looked like… semi-familiar, you know it’s hard to miss the tattoos.” You smiled.
“Oh that’s very true.” Shmi laughed. “Definitely stands out.”
“Yeah, so we officially met the day he was moving in across the hall from me.”
“Oh you’re telling her about move in day?” Anakin cut in with a big grin on his face.
“Mhm.” You nodded happily, gazing at him with a hint of adoration in your eyes. “Anakin had his stuff strewn out in the hallway and I knocked over a stack of his books.” You laughed and he squeezed your shoulder lightly.
“Yeah, then we chatted for a bit and she noticed a book of mine that she’d lost her copy of, so I gave it to her. That’s how I snatched her up.” He said proudly, gesturing to you with both hands like he was presenting a trophy.
“Huh, who knew you had a little romantic streak?” Cliegg laughed.
“Oh he definitely does!” You agreed eagerly.
“Well Anakin I have to say: I’m extremely impressed you’ve found such a lovely girl.” Shmi said softly, glancing at you with those warm eyes.
“Took you long enough.” His stepdad smacked his upper arm with the back of his hand with a deep laugh.
“Hey, I was holding out for the right one.” Anakin said with a satisfied smile. “I wanted my forever girl and I found her.”
——————————————————————————
The rest of the night went smoothly, no hiccups, no awkward moments, nothing you’d worried about came to fruition. His mother was as sweet as could be and her husband definitely suited her well. All in all, you were happy to have had the opportunity to get to know them. You were proud to be the first girl worthy of meeting them and you were thrilled that they seemed to like you as much as you liked them.
“See? Told you.” Anakin whispered, walking beside you out of the restaurant.
“You were right.” You sighed. “Nothing to worry about.”
“I was what?” He fake gasped, one hand coming up to cover his mouth dramatically.
“You heard me and I’m not repeating it.” You giggled, bumping him with your shoulder.
“Good enough for me princess, I’ll take it.” He smiled, pulling you close and pressing a chaste kiss to your hair.
You said your goodbyes to Anakin’s parents just outside the entrance, a full, loving hug from Shmi and a ‘you’re great but we’re not there yet’ double hand squeeze on one of yours from his stepdad.
You’d just started walk to the car when Shmi called out to Anakin, causing you both to swivel around.
“Ani, sweetheart can you come talk for just a second?” She asked sweetly.
“Oh… yeah okay.” He nodded, handing you the car keys.
“I’ll go see what’s up baby.” He said with a soft tone, “go ahead to the car.”
You followed instructions and did exactly as he asked, climbing into the passenger seat of his car and starting it so you could listen to the radio while Anakin was gone. You didn’t think much of it, it was probably just a bit of an after dinner debrief.
Anakin jogged over to his mom and leaned against Cliegg’s truck while he climbed in, leaving just Shmi and Anakin to speak alone.
“Ani she’s a wonderful girl.” Shmi said, squeezing his arm gently.
“Yeah she is, she’s perfect isn’t she?” He gushed, his pupils widened at just the thought of you.
“Yes-“
“She’s just… everything. She’s everything to me.” He continued, picking up his mothers hand.
“Just w-“
“I mean I really believe she’s the one mom.” He squeezed her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles in an affectionate way. “Really I do, she’s perfect. I- I’m so glad you guys like her, I knew you would of course but she was just so nervous and-“
“Anakin!” Shmi said sternly, her voice quickly going back to a calm tone after getting his attention.
“Anakin, sweetie, I’m so glad you’ve found your person.” She started slowy, holding eye contact with her son’s intense gaze. “I’m proud of you, you know that don’t you?”
“Yeah of course-“
“I’m proud of you. You’re a good boy honey.” She said quietly, “she’s a sweet girl, she deserves the best.”
“Well yeah she does, of course she does and-“
“Are you being your best?” Shmi asked him, her voice turning hard, alittle sharp. “Swear to me, Anakin. Swear you are?”
“Yes mom.” He sighed as though he were expecting this conversation.
“Are you still taking your medicine? Seeing your doctor?” She asked worriedly.
“Really?” He scoffed. “Please, let’s just drop it. This was a good day, please don’t ruin it by worrying over nothing.”
“Are you though?”
“Yes!” He hissed, clenching his teeth tightly. “Yes I’m still seeing the doctor and taking the stupid pills, yes.”
“Good. Very good.” She breathed a sigh of relief at his compliance.
“Don’t ask me if she knows.” Anakin said sternly. “She doesn’t.”
“You can’t just keep that from her, she has a right to know Anakin!”
“It’s not the right time for that.” He raised his voice slightly. “She doesn’t need to know yet. I’ll tell her on my own terms.”
“But you can’t-“
“I said: I’ll tell her on my own terms.” He breathed deeply, keeping his temper in check. “Please mom, just… just be happy for me okay? I’m doing really good, I’m happy. Please just let me be happy.”
“Alright.” She sighed, nodding slowly. “You’re right. I’m sorry sweetie, I shouldn’t have questioned you like that.”
“It’s okay. I know you worry.” He mumbled, pulling her into a hug, his hand rubbing between her shoulder blades.
“I- I just so badly want you to be happy.” She said quietly. “I want you to be safe, happy, and loved. You deserve to be loved.”
“I am loved.” Anakin whispered, his voice rough, “You love me. Cliegg loves me. Owen probably loves me. I think she might love me too.”
“You think so?” She asked in a brighter tone.
“Yeah, I do.” He nodded, pulling back with a soft smile.
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Diary Entry: August 18th
I love my mother, but she worries too much. Talking to me like I’m some child to be coddled and babysat. I don’t need her or anyone else to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, especially when it comes to you, my little doe.
I know what’s best for you, for our relationship, and it’s my opinion that you don’t need to burden yourself with my past transgressions. I’m a changed man, what I did as a teenager, as a kid, has no reflection on who I am today.
Telling you about it is out of the question. At least for now… but, it’d probably be for the best to never, ever speak of it. I just don’t see the point in sharing something like that with you when it would cause your pretty little head to worry over something so irrelevant to the present.
Not to mention the stupid fucking doctor. It was ridiculous, asking me such a personal question when she knows very well that it upsets me when she interrogates me like that. It’s none of her business anymore, I’m not a child, I can take care of myself.
If anything, her questioning and distrust makes me want to do it even less just to prove that I can live without it.
I don’t need to see a fucking shrink if I’m taking the pills right? It’s overkill to do both. I don’t need to talk about my feelings, I don’t need to tell a stranger all about my past and the questionable things I’ve done. That’s why I have a journal and I think it suits me just fine.
Just another reason why I love you so much. You’ve helped me by getting me into writing stuff down instead of keeping it bottled up. You’re responsible for the thing that helps keep me from spiraling, you should be so proud of yourself, showing me this A+ coping skill.
It’s way better than: ‘Breathe in… breathe out… focus on your surroundings and count the things you can see and feel.’
Like what the hell is that? What’s that supposed to do? Distract me? Yeah right.
It can’t distract me from what’s going on in my head. Not when it’s so much all at once, all the time. It was exhausting to pretend that something like that was working for me. Journaling is so much better. So much easier.
It’s real and it’s tangible. I can flip through the pages and return to the good things, or I can skip over the bad stuff but take comfort in knowing that I was able to write it down.
So fuck the shrink, I’m not going back. I haven’t been in months and I’m doing perfectly fine.
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Diary Entry: August 20th
I cannot for the life of me figure out what the hell I’m going to do. I’m grasping at straws here, trying to figure out how to handle the Ghost situation.
I can tell you’re getting annoyed.
How am I supposed to respond? I know it’s been days but I can’t bring myself to answer the texts, the notes, the questions shouted into your otherwise empty home.
Hopefully you’ll understand, though I acknowledge that you have every reason to be upset with me. I’m assuming you’re feeling some sort of betrayal after the letter… I hate that. I really hate it. But it’s unavoidable.
You responded extremely well to my offer and the opportunity for a choice. So I’ll just do that again. That sounds reasonable, I’ll give a bit of an explanation, little apology and then I’ll let you choose what happens next.
This is what happens when I don’t fully plan ahead. I fuck things up and then it’s just a gommed up mess.
Then the whole situation with my mother really threw me off. It just added another layer of ‘what the hell’ to my already high stack of self imposed problems.
I want to do something. I need to do something. I have shit to get off my chest.
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Date
August 22nd
Finally, finally Ghost has gotten back in contact with you.
Now that the little grey envelope is sitting on your nightstand… you almost don’t want to open it. After all the silence on his end it’s impossible to guess what he has to say. Though as you’re convincing yourself not to open it, it’s found it’s way into your hand.
LETTER
Little Doe,
My absence was unexpected for you as well as myself, for that I apologize. I would go into detail if I could but unfortunately we both know that I can’t do that.
Let’s just say that my life got a bit complicated and I had to take a moment to iron things out. Now that everything is starched and pressed it’ll be back to business as usual.
While I was gone I took some time to consider your question as well. So I’ll match you with a question of my own.
I’ve been… stressed to say the very least. I don’t like to be destructive, I’m not that kind of guy. So I was wondering if you’d help me out, give me a bit of an alternative rage release?
Don’t lie, I know you’re curious. I know you want me just as badly as I want you. I bet you’re wet just reading this, aren’t you? I think it’s high time for you to be conscious enough to really enjoy everything I’m giving you. Don’t you agree?
I heard you like it rough. Is that true princess? I’ll give you rough, just say the word and I’ll make sure you’ve got marks that’ll last for weeks.
Next half of the question: here or elsewhere?
You sure do love to show off that little body of yours. I wonder if that would translate over into your sex life if you’d let it.
Your choice little doe.
——————————————————————————
‘He did not just ask me that… did he?’
You stared at the letter in your hands, your mind going well over the speed limit on the road to rational thinking. It was tempting, oh so very tempting. He’s right of course, he always is, you are curious. You do want him, maybe even need him.
It’s obvious he’s more than capable of giving you what you needed, what you wanted. The man had you feigning for him for weeks with no relief, all from teasing you, all while you were unaware.
It would be… interesting to see for yourself in the waking world what he’s done to you in dreamland. It’s alright if it’s for research purposes isn’t it? Is it really cheating if you don’t know the person at all, his identity is a complete mystery; that should count for something right?
Just a smidgen of a mitigating factor would be enough to sway you to say yes.
“Hey.” You called out, waving your hand as if he were there with you and you were trying to get his attention. “You listening?”
*Ping* a text came through almost immediately: ‘Always.’
“You’re serious about this?” You asked, holding the stationary in one hand, gesturing to it with your other.
‘I’m always serious.’
“Right.” You sighed, pulling your legs up to sit cross-legged. “I don’t think this would be very kind of me to do. I just met Anakin’s mother, our relationship is getting serious.”
‘Congrats. What does that have to do with my need to fuck you?’
“Uh everything.” You scoffed. “That’s cheating. I don’t want to cheat on him!”
‘Defensive are we?’
“Yes,” you hissed, scrubbing your forehead with the palm of your hand, “very defensive for good reason.”
‘I admire your loyalty, but be honest with yourself little doe.’
“I am being honest! I don’t want to cheat on him!” You shouted back.
‘You didn’t say that you didn’t want me to fuck your though.’
“Christ.” You mumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“I didn’t say that. You’re right.” You conceded.
‘Then it’s a yes?’
“Not necessarily.” You snapped, the true answer was right there, clawing away in the cage of your teeth.
‘So no then.’
“That’s not what I said.” You said hastily, alittle too eager to correct him.
‘I see.’
“What?” You scoffed, staring at the message that’d popped up.
Another followed, this time a voice message. You hesitated before pressing play, holding your phon up to your ear to hear it clearly. His gravely distorted voice washed over you in all its unholy temptation.
“Don’t worry little doe. I know just what you need.” He paused for a moment as if considering something, “It’s been a while since you’ve had a night out. Go have some fun, I’ll catch up with you.”
“Oh no. Absolutely not. You’re not knocking me out cold again.” You said angrily.
‘Of course not. I want you to be awake for this.’
“Then… then why do you want me to go to the bar?” You asked suspiciously.
‘Surprise :)’
“Fuck.” You muttered, rubbing your temples before picking up your phone to message Luke and Han, as well as your good friend from book club.
“Just to be perfectly clear: I’m not saying yes!” You said, looking around the room with a red tint to your cheeks.
‘Not a no either.’
You could practically hear his voice, that teasing tone you knew all too well. What an ass, a stupid sexy ass.
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DATE
August 24th
“Oh look at you princess.” Anakin whistled wrapping his arms around your waist when you walked out of your bedroom in a sweet little pink dress.
“Pretty, pretty girl.” He mumbled and he nuzzled into your hair, taking a deep breath to smell the scent of your shampoo.
“Oh hush,” you giggled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “can’t be saying stuff like that, you’re gonna get me all flustered.”
“What if I want you to be all flustered?” He chuckled, tipping your head back to capture your lips and invade your mouth with a gentle caress of his tongue.
“Mmm taste as good as you look baby.” He whispered, his words fanning over your bottom lip and straight down to your core.
“Anakin…” you whined, looking up at him and wishing for mercy.
“Shhh don’t whine.” He laughed, pinching your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “I’ll quit teasin’… for now.”
“But you do look gorgeous you know?” He said sincerely, very lightly touching your cheek so as not to mess up your makeup.
“Thank you Ani.” You said shyly, leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his nose.
“So what’s the plan again? Dinner at that one Thai place you like? Then you’re going to the bar?” He asked, leaning back against the kitchen counter, his hands resting on the countertop at his sides.
“Yep that’s the plan.” You nodded, checking your bag to ensure you had everything you needed.
“Call me when you get there? You’re walking aren’t you?” He asked, looking at you with a gaze of concern that warmed your heart.
“Yes I’m walking and yes I will call when I get to the restaurant and I’ll text when I’m leaving.” You promised, tossing your mini backpack over your shoulder and giving him a hug and soft kiss.
“Alright sweetheart, I’ll see you at the bar.” He said in a low tone, smoothing out your hair as he held you close for a moment longer.
You left your home and Anakin behind, trotting down the steps to the city streets below. A walk would be good for you, plenty of time to think and plenty of time to clear your head of those thoughts before you reach your destination.
——————————————————————————
Diary Entry: August 24th
I’m so excited. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to do something for you.
I know it’s a bit presumptuous, but I think I know you fairly well and if you’re reading those nasty, raunchy books on your bookshelf… well I think it’s safe to say you might be interested in some of it for yourself right? You already think a man in a Ghostface mask with a knife is sexy.
I’m gonna give you what I think you like. I know I will love it. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time but I was always alittle too chicken to do it. Even before we started dating, before you knew about Ghost. It’s been a fantasy of mine that I’ve thought of way more often than I’ll ever admit.
But now I have your unspoken permission, well at least your non-denial of it. Which isn’t technically consent but who cares; it’s been so blurred between us already.
Honestly its super comforting the way that you so vehemently defend our relationship. I’ve never had someone go to bat for me like that before, it’s endearing. It makes me feel cared for, loved, needed.
I know it’s hypocritical, trust me I know that; but it does kind of get on my nerves as well. I want you to say yes and say it enthusiastically to Ghost. At the same time I want you to scream and kick and tell him to fuck off.
Being jealous of both sides of myself is frankly quite exhausting. I don’t know what I want other than you. I just want you. I want you to want both of me and you do, but that’s also a problem.
You think I’m two separate people and that makes me a tad worried.
The only comfort it brings me is that you aren’t enthusiastically saying yes. You’re denying the truth of course, we both know that. But you’re also keeping some loyalty to our relationship and for that I am so eternally grateful.
I love the way you love me even if you haven’t said it aloud just yet. You will soon.
——————————————————————————
Your group of friends were gathered outside the restaurant, as the last one to arrive, you of course received a light dose of good natured insults and chiding.
“There she is!” Your best girl friend Sam yelled, pointing you out to Luke and Han as you walked up the sidewalk.
“Finally! I’m starving!” Luke sighed liked he’d been waiting hours, according to your phone you were still two minutes early.
“Shut up and let’s get some food.” You snorted, pushing him through the door and into the yummy little Thai place.
After getting settled into your cozy corner booth you placed your orders and slipping into the familiar routine of gossiping and story swapping.
“How did meeting the parents go?” Luke asked, propping his chin up on the heel of his hand, his fingers drumming along his cheek.
“It went so smooth and oh my god his mom is so sweet.” You said, leaning forward in your seat.
“I was so worried they wouldn’t like me, but I think they did. Anakin said they did, I mean they really seemed to at least.” You nodded.
“Oh I’m sure they loved you. You’re the perfect girl to bring home to the parents. You’re the whole package.” Sam smiled warmly.
“You’re too sweet, giving me way too much credit.” You sighed, your smile faltering slightly.
“Anyway… yeah his mom was great. I think she was just alittle worried you know? I’m the first girl he’s brought to meet them so I feel like there was a bit of worry there at the beginning.” You explained, talking with your hands.
“She was talking about him as a kid and she just looked so… sad I guess?” You sighed, trying to find a better word to describe it but came up short. “So I think maybe she was just sad about him growing up, finally finding someone he wants to be serious with.”
“That’s so sweet.” Sam said, squeezing your hand. “I didn’t realize you were the first girl he’d brought them.”
“Yeah,” you nodded proudly. “He said he was waiting for the right one.”
“Ew that’s so gross.” Luke gagged.
“Fuck off.” You tossed a good natured insult at him, rolling your eyes despite feeling an immense sense of accomplishment… maybe a hint of guilt there too.
After the meal was finished, you all walked together out of the restaurant and set out on foot toward The Cerulean. A leisurely pace was set by Han and Luke who were happily at the head of the group while you and Sam hung back just a few steps behind.
“So he’s gonna be here tonight?” Sam asked curiously.
“Oh, yeah but he’s working though.” You said.
“Wait really?” She asked in surprise. “That doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would that bother me? If anything it’s comforting.” You scoffed.
“Well he’s like… he’s just there you know? Not participating he’s just gonna be watching.” She made a displeased face.
“Trust me, I have no qualms with being… looked out for.” You smirked.
“So you don’t mind that he’s going to be watching you the whole night?”
“No, I don’t.” You shrugged, walking the through the door as Luke held it open for the two of you to enter.
You broke off from your friends in search of Anakin, you spotted him behind the bar, animatedly speaking with a coworker that you vaguely remember Anakin referring to as ‘Trev’.
It was like you had some sort of homing beacon, Anakin immediately whipped his head toward you and beckoned you over with two fingers. He trotted around the bar to meet you halfway, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you flush against his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
“How was dinner, pretty girl?” He asked, his voice low and smooth.
“It was good!” You chirped, squeezing him tightly again before he let you go. “Told them allllll about meeting your parents.”
“Good things only I hope?” He laughed.
“Of course. Good things only, always.” You nodded with a big smile.
“It’s not nearly as busy in here as usual.” You observed, scanning the large space and noticing a much lower head count than the times you’ve been here before.
“Oh I know,” Anakin nodded, “there’s some kind of opening anniversary for a pub downtown. Free beer or something like that.” He shrugged.
“Huh, well I’ll have to tell Han.” You said.
“Mhm yeah I’m sure he’d enjoy it.” He agreed, “you going too?”
“No, I’m going home when I leave here.” You shook your head.
“Alright baby, listen, I gotta go back.” He nodded toward the bar. “You know where to find me.”
With that he gave you a chaste kiss to the forehead and quickly walked back behind the counter, stealing a drink order right from under Trevor’s nose as he slid in front of him, you heard him snicker and the *thwap* of a towel snapping against his leg in retaliation as you walked back to your friends.
You spotted them off to the corner, Sam speaking with a shorter man you’d never seen before. You snuck behind her with a cheeky grin and tugged a lock of her hair gently as you passed by, she was unfazed, simply giving you a pink cheeked smile.
“Hey Han,” you called out to get his attention as you drew closer, his head following the sound until he saw you. “You know there’s a bar even going on downtown tonight?” You asked, coming to a stop just in front of him.
“Yeah, it’s at The Drunken Horseman.” He nodded, “I think a few of the guys were headed out there actually. Free beer.”
“W-well why didn’t you go?” You asked in confusion, knowing he wouldn’t have just passed it up for no reason.
“Cause a little lady I know likes it better here.” He grinned, tapping your forehead with his pointer finger.
“Aw, you didn’t have to do that Han.” You said, feeling a bit guilty. “You should’ve said something!”
“Whoa, don’t get all riled up. I don’t mind it at all.” He reassured you. “I can still do plenty of people watching from right here.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the table top he leaned against.
He waved his hand over to the left, your eyes following the gesture until your gaze was met with a younger guy, unapologetically and unsuccessfully trying to speak to a group of girls despite being seemingly incredibly wasted.
“I guess that’s true.” You laughed lightly, the pull of guilt still tugging at your guts.
“Listen, after we’re done here you should go!” You encouraged, “I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get to do something that you wanna do.”
“Babes it’s no big deal.” Luke said, popping out from his seat behind Han’s massive frame. “I think we planned on skipping out a bit early to do exactly that.”
“Really?” You sighed in relief. “Good, I’m glad.”
“We did?” Han asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Uh yes, we had a whole conversation about this yesterday you oaf.” Luke scoffed.
“Oaf?” Han let out a loud, bellowing laugh at Luke’s poor attempt at an insult, making a little smile creep up the corner of your lips as well.
——————————————————————————
You decided collectively to call it a night just a little before 11:00pm so that Luke and Han could still catch Han’s group of friends at The Drunken Horseman. You said your goodbyes to them at the door and turned to face Sam after watching them leave.
“Are you positive you’re okay with walking home alone?” She asked you worriedly, “like absolutely positive?”
“Yes, I’m absolutely positive.” You said with an appreciative smile. “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I get home.”
“Okay.” She nodded, satisfied with your answer.
“You better do the same.” You said, catching her arm as she started to leave with the man she’d been chatting with all night.
“I will,” she signaled for him to wait while she got up close to whisper to you, “I looked him up when I went to the bathroom earlier. Arrest records and everything.”
“Good.” You grinned. “Have fun then.”
You spun on your heel to find Anakin and tell him goodbye, heading straight to the bar and catching him in another conversation. This time with a female patron that you’d seen before.
“I don’t understand.” She scoffed.
“What don’t you understand?” He scowled.
“I just don’t get why you’re mean to me!” She huffed. “I come in here all the time and I’m always nice to you, yet you’re an ass every time I speak to you!”
“Then stop speaking to me.” He said flatly, pretending to inspect a glass that he was drying.
“I should report you to management.”
“Please do.” Anakin shot back.
“They’ll fire you, for being rude to customers.” She threatened, crossing her arms.
“They’ll ban you, for harassing employees.” He snorted.
“God. You’re ridiculous, I asked you out one time-“
“Yeah and it was one time too many.” He snapped at her.
“I have a beautiful, wonderful, amazing girlfriend.” He said sternly. “She is my everything and you, are nothing.”
“Like she’s-“
“Listen. Even if I didn’t have a girlfriend I wouldn’t go after a whore with loud ass mouth like you.” He snarled. “Leave. I’m banning you myself.”
“You can’t do that!” She yelled
“He can’t do what?” His coworker Trevor came over quickly after hearing her shout at Anakin.
“He- he’s trying to ban me.” She said angrily.
“What did you do?” Trevor asked the girl and looked over at Anakin.
“Nothing! I was just trying to order a drink and he called me a whore!”
“I did call her a whore.” Anakin willingly admitted with zero remorse.
“Wait is this the one?” Trevor asked.
“Yeah, she’s been bugging me, Jason and Stevie for the last few weeks. Comes in every now and again and won’t take a fucking hint from any of us.” Anakin grunted as he glanced over at her.
“That’s not true I w-“
“Nope. That’s enough.” Trevor said, obviously irritated, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of her.
“Hey you can’t do that!” She shouted trying to grab his phone.
“You’re going on the wall honey.” He said, thumbing over his shoulder at a cork board of banned patrons.
“You’re serious?” She scoffed, “you can’t be serious.”
“Deadly. Now get out.” Trevor barked, following her angry path across the bar to ensure that she did in fact leave.
“Baby?” Anakin’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you realized you’d been standing there with your mouth open as he tapped the underside of your chin.
“Anakin you didn’t tell me it was that bad.” You said, eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him, now standing in front of you.
“Ah.” He grumbled.
“I didn’t want to worry you sweetheart.” He said softly, taking both your hands in his. “She’s not coming back now so nothin’ to worry yourself over.” He said with a reassuring smile.
“That’s just awful though. She was doing that to three of you?” You asked in disgust.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Doesn’t happen often. Usually it’s April and Jess who get the creeps but every now and again there’s a girl who does it.”
“How much did you hear baby?” He asked, pushing hair from your face and holding your cheek.
“Just the tail end of it.” You lied.
“You know I’d never even entertain something like that don’t you, princess?” He asked, lines of worry etching into his forehead, “Never, I’d never even breathe in the direction of another woman.”
“I know.” You said with a small smile, you were being truthful. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind about his faithfulness, especially now after witnessing him tear into a girl over it.
“I know I have nothing to worry about.” You said, giving his hands a squeeze.
You might not, but Anakin does. Anakin does have to worry about your faithfulness whether he knows it or not; there’s a Ghost haunting every corner of your life that has no plans on leaving anytime soon.
“Good.” He said with a warm smile, pulling you into a hug. “Are you leaving?” He asked, pulling g back slightly.
“Yeah I’m headed home now.” You nodded.
“Alright pretty girl.” He said, kissing your forehead. “Be good. I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me when you get home?”
“Of course.” You nodded with a big smile that faded as soon as you turned around to leave.
——————————————————————————
“I saw your girl leaving, you headed out now?” Trevor asked Anakin as he was untying his apron.
“Yep, I’m leaving too.” Anakin nodded, folding the apron and tucking it under the counter. “Unless you need me to stay?”
“Thanks for coming in to help out man.” Trevor said, clapping him on the back. “We got it from here.”
“No problem, you know I don’t mind.” Anakin said, grabbing his wallet and keys. “See ya.”
Anakin left hastily stopping at his car in the back parking lot to grab his essentials. He checked his phone and saw that you’d made an unexpected stop at the little corner store for what he assumed was a snack.
“Perfect.” He grinned, tossing his hoodie over his head and switching out his shoes.
He tucked his mask under his arm and hopped into his car, parking it up the road a bit closer to where you were, just to get it out of his work parking lot. He jumped out, locked it and slipped into the nearest alley. He grumbled but hopped the fence at the end and continued down until he hit the opposite street, running parallel to the one you’d be taking.
“One… two… three… four… there.” He mumbled to himself as he passed by alleys between buildings until he found the one he was looking for.
This particular place was perfect for his purposes, no cameras, no foot traffic, no dumpster, a brick wall on one end and a recessed entrance to the building on the left. A building that was currently up for lease, leaving it tenant free. He scaled the short brick wall on his side of the alley, using the dumpster there as a boost.
Anakin’s sneakers hit the pavement with a satisfying noise when he dropped down from above. He tugged on his gloves and mask, hitting the side button on the voice box while he walked up the alleyway, his phone in his hand.
Your little blue dot was quickly approaching and his adrenaline was running high. His body practically vibrating in anticipation of what he was about to do, with your footsteps in audible range he tucked his phone away and bunched up a black handkerchief in the palm of his leather glove.
Your long shadow came into view, the lamppost casting it down on the side walk below. It shortened with each step you took. Seeing no shadow behind you, no other footsteps, Anakin knew it was safe to enact his plan.
The very second you came into view he lunged forward, clapping his hand with the bandanna in it over your mouth. Instinctively you parted your lips to scream, allowing him to shove the fabric in your mouth as he dragged you by waist and under your arms as you kicked and thrashed.
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Part Eleven
Tag-List:
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enmi-land · 7 days ago
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#OO3. THE TEA IN TEAMWORK
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𝓘. ──── . . . MiLA BECOMES THE TOKEN COMMUNiST—ER, COMMUNiCATOR OF i-LAND.
🥚 𝓲-LAND EPiSODE 3 𓈀 5.4k ꗃ ❛ KOR, ENG, JP, CHi ❜ ✖ NO WARNiNGS! `⎚⩊⎚´ NEXT::PREV ꒰ NOTE ✦ This one is for the Miseung fans, I fear.
shall we go 𝓲NTO THE NEW WORLD ?
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Mila has a lot of days where she thinks to herself, ‘Man, I should really mind my own business.’ Today is not that day.
It starts when she finds Ni-ki on her way to the shower.
…Well, “find” is putting it lightly. The more accurate description would be, she almost felt her soul leave her body when she saw him standing in the middle of the empty hallways, with his black hoodie pulled right over his head like some hooligan ready to mug her on the street.
“You scared me!” Mila exclaims as Ni-ki turns to her. “Are you okay? Why are you just standing there? Is something wrong?”
Ni-ki denies her a little too quickly. It almost reminds Mila of her when she would lie about doing something when her mother asked her about it.
Huh. Inch-rest-ing.
Mila could walk away right now. But they’re teammates now, and he’s her dongsaeng. A very strange one—but still! She feels like she would be ignoring a kicked puppy if she walks away now without doing anything.
“If you say so…” Mila puckers her lips and slowly walks away backwards, not once looking away from Ni-ki. “But are you sure?”
Ni-ki nods. “Yes.”
Mila takes a step back. “Really, really sure?”
Ni-ki pauses. He nods.
Mila takes another step back. “Really, really, really sure?”
Ni-kia opens his mouth, then closes it. He looks away for a second, and Mila can practically see all the thoughts that are filling his head. She doesn’t move away any further, and stands there with her eyes awkwardly darting around as this prepubescent teenager goes to war with himself in his own head.
Mila can definitely relate. She’s always been an overthinker. But she was even more of an overthinker when she was fourteen years old and had to worry about making friends in a foreign country, when the next trainee evaluation is, and not falling behind in school—all while dealing with hormones, periods and breakouts.
Not exactly the best years of her life.
Ni-ki turns to her and shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”
Mila frowns, watching as Ni-ki turns on his heel to walk away. They’re not exactly close so she knows it wouldn’t be that easy to get him to open up to her. But it still makes her feel uncomfortable, not being able to help.
Maybe she really is too nosy for her own good.
“Hey,” she calls out, getting his attention. “If you change your mind and you want to talk to someone, it’s okay to. We’re all teammates here. We’re supposed to have each other's backs.”
Ni-ki pauses for a second, before nodding. “Thanks, Noona.”
Mila musters up a smile and watches as he slinks down the hall and into the shadows, his hands in his pockets like some cool anime protagonist.
Had she been that gloomy when she was his age? She may have burst into tears every now and then, yeah, but she’s sure she didn’t have the same dark clouds looming over her head like that.
“Yeah, you definitely didn’t,” Kiara agrees, when Mila asks her about it. “If anything, you looked like you farted rainbows and sunshine or something. You were way too happy for a kid who was a hundred miles away from home and all alone.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought, too.” Mila hugs her panda plushie that she brought from home, resting her chin on the top of its head. “Poor kid.”
But still, Mila has to give him credit: Nishimura Riki is one hell of a dancer.
Mila has heard of him before the show, but I-Land is really the only chance she’s had to really see him in action. It took him five minutes to memorise the entire choreography for Into the I-Land. Five minutes!
He really is a dance prodigy—and he’s only fourteen. Mila knows she didn't have half that kind of talent when she got the audacity to fly her rebellious and overly emotional pubescent self here from China, and she’s been told she’s a pretty good dancer herself. So, yeah, he’s an absolute monster in the making.
(A very cute one, though, considering the resemblance between the Japanese boy and a round dumpling.)
Mila has to wonder if this is what other trainees thought when they saw her for the first time. Because the longer she looks at Ni-ki and the other younger trainees in I-Land, the more she thinks about how they look like babies—which, well, they technically are.
Now Mila is really curious about BigHit’s plans for the future of Kpop: Are they going to be debuting toddlers in ten years from now? If Mila had known, she would have asked her mother to wait a few years until giving birth to her so she could get in on the ‘babies in business’ boom.
…Damn, she’s getting old.
She’s starting to feel like it, too. Her knee pops while standing up from the floor.
“Oppa, I’ll be back,” she announces to Heeseung.
He hums and nods his head in reply, but doesn’t say much in return because he's right back to talking to K about some of the choreography.
She pouts.
He’s been a bit non-verbal with her in general lately, but Mila knows that it’s because he’s been busy with his duties as the leader of this whole operation, so she isn't worried about that in particular—even if she did sulk a bit before she got over it.
No, Mila is more worried about him. It’s a good thing he’s taking his position seriously, but he turned down an offer Mila made to cook ramyeon for him! Heeseung refusing ramyeon? Pigs might as well be flying, right now; it’s that inconceivable.
Mila frowns at the memory. It's clear that this leadership role is taking a toll on Mila, and she just wishes she could do something to help him.
“Have a good break, Noona,” Daniel—the absolute sweetheart—says as she walks towards the door.
Mila is immediately back to smiling, and she bids him a cutesy, “Thank you.” But it doesn’t last long since Mila is soon lost in her thoughts. 
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Mila barely registers where her feet are taking her. She walks into one of the lounge rooms, where she sees Jaeyun doing an impressive impression of a corpse on the couch.
Mila can’t say she is surprised.
She’s had two years training, so she’s a bit more used to the Spartan lifestyle that is idol traineeship. Jaeyun’s been training for a few months, at least, and this Signal Song Test is no walk in the park.
This whole situation is like a teacher handing out a test on the very first day of school and expecting them to get a perfect score. So, yeah, Mila can say that she would undergo a spontaneous system shut down, too.
“Hwayoungie, can you massage my shoulders for a second?”
Mila blinks. Ah—he must think she’s Hwayoung. She opens her mouth to correct him, only for him to beat her to it.
“I think I’m going to die, seriously…”
He all but whines like a puppy, kicking his legs in frustration while his head remains buried in his cushion. Mila can’t help the grin that spreads across her face. She didn't expect the hot heartthrob from the entrance test to have such a cute side. But she’s not complaining.
It makes the idea of being under the same roof as him to be a lot less intimidating.
Mila decides to take pity on the poor guy and walks over to sit next to him on the couch, where he still hasn’t moved from his ‘play dead’ position. She brings her hands to his shoulders and imitates the same motions that Jay uses when he massages her own shoulders. She has to hold back a giggle when he melts into the couch like butter on a hot pan.
“That feels nice...” His voice is muffled by the cushion, but clearly content.
“Good,” she says with a teasing tone.
It takes a few seconds for Mila to get a response. She swears there’s a loading sign above Jaeyun’s head and the sound of an overheating computer drive, as if he’s still comprehending that she isn’t the one he thought she was.
Jaeyun jumps up from his position on the couch like he was shocked by a defibrillator. He faces Mila with wide eyes. “Hi,” he says breathlessly.
Mila giggles. She almost feels bad for tricking him.
Almost.
“Hi.”
They continue to stare at each other, Mila with a smile and Jaeyun with a gape—and, wow, they’re pretty close. Mila’s eyes widen a bit at the realisation.
Jaeyun sat up so suddenly in his surprise that they ended up almost face to face. She can practically count his eyelashes from here. If this were a scene in a Kdrama, there would be romantic music playing in the background. In fact, Mila feels like this is a scenario her thirteen-year-old self would have made up about her nonexistent future boyfriend.
Erm, what? No. Definitely not.
(But anyone else would definitely be thinking the same in her place, to be fair.)
How does a normal person respond to this situation?
Mila opens her mouth, but fortunately doesn’t have to resort to saying something extremely bizarre to redirect the situation to something less… awkward. She can almost hear a broken record when Hwayoung takes that opportune moment to walk into the room, carrying a tablet.
Mila is the first to gather her wits and leans away from Jaeyun to face Hwayoung as if nothing happened. “Hi, Unnie!”
Hwayoung’s expression shows that she’s surprised by Mila’s presence, but still manages to look warm and inviting. “Oh, you’re here? How’s it going?” 
Mila shrugs. “Okay, I guess. How about you?”
“I’ve been better,” Hwayoung replies.
At this point, Jaeyun is still staring at Mila while she converses with Hwayoung—probably still in shock. It’s quite endearing, actually… even if she only catches it from the corner of her eye because she can’t really look at him right now.
Hwayoung takes a seat next to Mila, giving her an excuse to turn her head away from Jaeyun’s direction. “I just think I’m falling behind.”
Mila nods understandably. She doesn’t even have to pretend to sympathise. “Is there any specific part that you’re struggling with?”
Hwayoung sighs as she takes a seat on the couch, slouching against the backrest in a defeated manner. “Well…”
Hwayoung picks the tablet up to show Mila which sections that she’s struggling with, while Milea listens intently to what she’s saying. It isn’t until she feels another presence against her back that she remembers that Jaeyun is still in the room.
“Oh, yeah, I was having a hard time with that, too,” he says over Mila’s shoulder. She can feel his hair tickling her cheek. To her surprise, he rests his chin on her shoulder, and she resists the urge to freeze up.
Mila’s not used to people initiating skinship with her so quickly—much less the opposite sex. Sunghoon had an aversion to touch (actually, maybe it was just an aversion to Mila) when they first met; Jay was too much of a gentleman to initiate any contact, unless she did so first; and Heeseung had a girlfriend at the time, so it wouldn’t have been appropriate to be too cosy with him.
Mila thinks she enjoys this change, though. Jaeyun has a warm and friendly presence, and she likes people like that. (Platonically, of course.)
“I’m just scared that I’ll end up bringing down the performance,” Hwayoung says.
Mila’s head whips towards her at breakneck speed.
“Don’t say that! We still have another six days left to catch up, it’s way too soon to start with the negative self-talk.” Mila takes the tablet from Hwayoung. “You know what? I was going over this not long ago with Ni-ki, and I think I’m pretty okay with it. Why don’t I give you a rundown?”
Jaeyun lifts his chin from her shoulder. “Really?”
Hwayoung looks hopeful, though a little hesitant. “I don’t want to bother you…”
“I wouldn’t have offered it if it bothered me,” Mila assures.
“Still…”
This is a team performance, isn’t it? If you ask Mila, it’s more productive to help everyone do better than going off on her own. So why shouldn’t they practise together? 
She turns to Jaeyun for the first time since their little moment together, looking for backup. “Is that okay with you?”
Jaeyun doesn’t hesitate to accept. Hwayoung is more confident as a result to hop on the offer for a Mila-masterclass.
Mila feels like one of those zumba instructors on YouTube with the amount of absurd sound effects and analogies she uses to explain every motion. But they apparently work like magic, since the atmosphere is much lighter than before and she sees a significant improvement in both Jaeyun and Hwayoung.
It’s just in time, too, because Heeseung decides to jumpscare everyone by suggesting individual evaluations.
Needless to say, they all become the surprised Pikachu personified.
The trainees gather in one of the practice rooms. Kiara instantly notices when Mila walks in and looks at her like she killed her cat or something. (She would never; Viva is far too cute.)
“We were looking for you,” Kiara says
Mila blinks, not sure what a correct response would be for this particular scenario. “Who’s ‘we’?”
Kiara rolls her eyes. “Heeseung was asking about you. You said you would be back but didn’t.”
“Ah—right!” Mila scratches her cheek bashfully. She really does feel bad, but unlike the others, Hwayoung and Jaeyun didn’t have anyone helping them out already. “Sorry, I was helping Hwayoungie-unnie and Jaeyun–...ssi?”
Kiara gives Mila a funny look at the honorific that she assigns Jaeyun (she doesn’t know why she did it either, okay?) and shakes her head with a sigh. “It’s fine. Let’s just sit down and get this over with.”
Mila obediently follows Kiara and takes a seat next to Yumeko, who greets her with a smile. Hwayoung joins them not long after, but this time without Jaeyun by her side. No surprise that all four of the girls would end up flocked together like a herd of sheep.
Kiara is first to perform. It honestly isn't a surprise, though, and neither are the looks of awe and amazement from the trainees as she effortlessly performs the signal song choreography. Mila is practically vibrating with excitement by the end.
“Unnie, you’re so cool!” she yells, causing Kiara’s lips to twitch up into a smile, before she hastily straightens it again to receive her feedback.
“That was basically perfect.”  Riki has nothing but good things to say, and Heeseung nods in agreement as well as he adds his own feedback.
“This is the standard I want to be able to see from everyone,” Heeseung says.
Mila isn’t surprised that he says that. Kiara has always been the gold standard for trainees, and it’s not changing anytime soon.
Kiara smiles in satisfaction as she walks back to her spot, where the other girls all welcome her back with well-deserved praise.
“I’d hate to go after that,” Yumeko says with a sigh.
Kiara scoffs. “Please. Everyone knows you’re one of the best dancers here.”
Hwayoung and Mila nod like a couple of Hawaiian bobblehead figures on a taxi dashboard. “That’s right!”
Yumeko laughs, clearly pleased by their praise. Then as if by fate’s design, Heeseung looks at the eldest female. “Yumeko-noona, you’re up next.”
Mila lets her inner cheerleader everytime someone steps up for their evaluation. But when it’s her turn, she’s hyping herself up like one of those fitness coaches whose idea of motivation is constantly yelling.
It works pretty well! The extra practice with Jaeyun and Hwayoung pays off for her as much as it did for them, and she ends up being complimented with a, “You did good,” from Ni-ki (yay!) and a curt nod from Heeseung (yay?), who immediately calls out for the next person. 
Mila can’t complain, since she didn’t get insulted, and that’s the worst case scenario—even if she knows it realistically would never happen. So she shrugs it off (but not really) and walks towards the other girls to take a seat.. 
Or tries to, anyway.
Her shoelace suddenly becomes untied for some reason and she almost falls flat on her face in front of everyone. There’s a dramatic gasp from somewhere, but fortunately no dramatic fall. Mila’s incredible balance stops her before gravity can pull her down, and while she still ends up feeling embarrassed, it’s not as bad as if she just went splat like an egg right there and then.
“Oops,” Mila whispers as she looks down at the solace that she could have sworn she double-knotted.
Mila starts to bend down to tie her shoelace. But before she can, another person sweeps in for the rescue, kneeling in front of her to grab the untied laces in their hands.
Mila blinks down at the back of Heeseung’s head.
He stays silent as his long, slender fingers twist the laces into a tight knot, ensuring it won’t come undone for a second time. He doesn’t say anything until after he’s done. “Be careful.”
He looks up at her, and for a second she’s taken aback at how gentle his eyes are. Her mind goes blank like it usually does every time she sits a maths exam.
“Thanks,” Mila blurts out, before she’s shuffling away at light speed, ignoring the eyes that follow her. She takes a seat next to Kiara, then suddenly covers her cheeks with her hands—which, of course, are warm.
Yumeko nudges Mila, and when she looks up, both she and Hwayoung are looking at her with a dangerous glint in their eye.
“What was that about?” Yumeko asks with a teasing smirk.
“What?” Mila asks, playing dumb. All she has to do is blink her wide eyes at them, and they’re shaking their heads as if they know something she doesn’t.
Kiara snorts next to her. “Favouritism.”
Mila doesn’t really get it, so she turns her attention back to the evaluations. Everyone’s so weird today…
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When evaluations are over and trainees swarm to the kitchen, Mila is possessed by a relative of the Cookie Monster. A few I-Landers watch in awe as she single-handedly gobbles down two entire bowls of tteok-bokki, mixed with cheese, sausage, and hot spicy chicken ramyeon—with a corn cob on the side.
Yumeko is baffled, absolutely befuddled. “Where does all of that food even go?” 
“That’s awesome!” Nicholas exclaims, as if he just witnessed a Guiness World Record being broken. (Who knows? He probably did.)
“I don’t know if ‘awesome’ is the word for it,” Geonu says. He blinks at the empty bowls in front of Mila, who is now drinking a glass of orange juice. “That’s just scary.”
Sunghoon walks past, unfazed. “You get used to it.”
Is it attractive? No. But Mila can hardly be expected to eat dainty, bite-sized pieces of food while sitting with a neatly placed napkin on her lap when she spent the whole day doing the equivalent of several Arnold Schwarznegger workouts.
A girl’s gotta eat!
Mila leaves her spectators behind with a flip of her hair and tosses her dishes in the sink after Mama Bear Kiara offers to wash them for her. She decides her next agenda will be to find Heeseung, so she can bother—ahem, respectfully request his attention.
Mila doesn’t, however, because ends up zooming to the bathroom when the overload of spice and cheese from her lunch decides to have a wrestling match in her stomach.
By the time Mila’s left the bathroom, I-Land feels… different. It suddenly feels a bit chilly, and the halls are a little more dim than before. She can’t have spent that long in the toilet, so she doubts it’s close to evening already. So what is it then?
Mila starts to wonder if this might be the work of a ghost from the nearby cemetery and almost starts to freak out—but then Kiara is stomping towards her, looking absolutely livid, and she thinks she would prefer a ghost as company, actually.
To be honest, nothing is scarier than Cranky Kiara. Especially when you’re the reason she’s cranky.
Fudgesicles.
Mila tries thinking back on everything that happened today and see if there was anything she did to piss Kiara off. She has nothing. She doesn’t even have a chance to ask.
“Some people—“ (Mila can tell Kiara is trying not to curse like a sailor when she says this.) “—were talking about Heeseung behind his back and now they want to make Ni-ki take his place, so we have to go to the lobby for a meeting.”
Mila gapes like a fish out of water. Then the confusion fades, and she feels a rush of anger through her at the thought of someone having the audacity to talk badly about Heeseung—and now they want to replace him, after everything he’s done for the team?
“Who did?!”
Son of a biscuit! She doesn’t care who it is. When she gets her hands on them—
“Oh don’t worry, I already chewed them out for it.” Mila feels herself calm down a little, because Kiara is able to make grown men cry with her glare alone.
But still! How dare they? 
She doesn’t care if people find her about as threatening as an angry Pomeranian, no one gets to bully her friends and get away with it!
…Except, they end up kind of getting away with it?
It’s a long story, but Mila doesn’t really care for the details. All she needs to know is that Ni-ki is now the centre, and Heeseung is somewhere alone because a group of trainees decided they don’t like his leadership—which is crazy to Mila, because she didn’t see any of them step up to the task when they were trying to find someone for the spot.
It’s a little too soon to be having this much trouble in paradise, if anyone asks Mila. But obviously that doesn’t matter on a survival show.
She might not have been that far off with her egg analogy on the first day.
Mila thinks back to when she bumped into Ni-ki earlier on and he seemed to be troubled. Is this the reason? That can’t be the reason, right? He doesn’t seem like the type to go behind someone else’s back…
Then again, it’s not like she knows many of the trainees here in general. Not Hwayoung, not Yumeko, not Jaeyun—and not even Sunoo. Kiara, Jay, Sunghoon and Heeseung have been her only real friends for so long, and even they’re competing against each other for a chance to debut.
Well, screw that! She doesn’t care if this is a competition, they’re still supposed to be a team!
Mila sighs as she hugs her panda plush to her chest, staring at the ceiling of her shared room with the other girls. She feels a little restless thinking about how Heeseung walked off earlier, asking for some alone time.
“I hope Oppa’s okay,” she mumbles to no one in particular.
Who is she kidding? She would be bawling her eyes out if she was in Heeseung’s position.
Kiara is just as worried as Mila is. She can tell because the older girl has been checking the clock every five minutes before busying herself with cleaning their already spotless sleeping quarters. It’s an anxious habit of the older female that Mila has picked up after befriending her.
“Unnie, can’t you go check on him?” Mila asks, leaning on her side to face Kiara as she fluffs a pillow. “You’ve known him the longest. I think you’d be able to talk to him.”
Kiara pauses for a second, before sighing. “Even I can't usually get through to him when he wants to be alone…” Kiara looks at her, and it’s like a lightbulb goes off inside her head. “But why don’t you give it a try?”
“Me?” Mila asks. She really wants to, of course—but she’s not confident that she will be able to provide the comfort that he needs. 
“Or you can leave him alone.” Kiara shrugs. “It’s your choice. But if you ask me—I think you would have the best luck at cheering him up.”
Mila doesn’t really know how she can, but Kiara seems confident, and if there’s one thing Mila’s learnt, it’s that Kiara knows best. So, she ends up walking through the halls of the dorms, mentally preparing a speech for when she sees Heeseung, all while clutching her panda plushie to her chest because the place somehow seems really creepy now that it’s empty and nighttime.
She once again remembers the cemetery that’s supposedly close by, and feels a shiver up her spine. It’s horrible timing to be thinking of it now—especially because the lights suddenly turn off.
Mila instantly turns on her heels to look at the direction of the light switch.
“H-hello?” she calls out shakily.
Her voice is answered by the sound of something falling from the pantry.
Mila shrieks like the frightened teenage girl she is. She instantly turns around and takes off in the opposite direction. It’s a bit difficult to do in her slippers, though, so it’s more accurate to say that she’s shuffling instead of running—which isn’t going to help much if she’s racing against a ghost.
She can hear the sound of her own heart pumping in her ears now. It’s loud enough that she doesn’t register the footsteps heading towards her—in the direction that she’s escaping—until she bumps into a solid, human chest. “Ack!”
A pair of hands grasp her shoulders to stop her from falling back from the recoil.
“Are you okay?”
Mila holds her nose as she looks up at Heeseung. She suddenly forgets about the ghost from earlier after seeing his face as she remembers her mission. “Oppa! Just in time—I was looking for you.”
“Did something happen?” Heeseung asks, straightening his shoulders. He looks worried, which is supposed to be Mila’s job right now. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m supposed to be asking you that,” Mila says. “I came to check on you. Are you okay? Do you need anything? I didn’t want to bother you since you asked to be alone, but I didn’t want you to be alone…”
“You didn’t have to worry about me,” Heeseung says.
“But I do!” Mila protests. “You were doing your best to make sure our performance goes well. It made me really mad when I found out people were talking about you behind your back after everything you did. What did you do so wrong?”
Heeseung blinks down at Mila. “You got angry?”
Why on earth does he sound so surprised? Mila is almost offended.
“Of course I did! You’re my friend. I’m sad when you’re sad, and I feel hurt when you get hurt. But I don’t know how to make you feel better.”
Mila realises she’s starting to get fired up all over again and sighs. Heeseung is visibly taken aback by her sudden outburst and she starts to feel embarrassed at having gotten so emotional when she’s not even the one who was wronged.
Mila looks down at her feet. “Sorry. I’ll leave if you want me to—but there’s a ghost in the kitchen, so I might need you to give me a few seconds to prepare myself—”
Mila doesn’t get to finish her sentence when Heeseung laughs. His eyes are bright, and not at all like they looked earlier before, so something good must have happened. She tilts her head in curiosity, when he pulls her to his chest, before wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She stands there for a few seconds to comprehend the action. Then she’s shifting her panda plush under her arm so she can hug him as closely as possible.
She’s pretty tall herself, standing at around 173 centimetres, but Heeseung is still a lot taller than she is, to the point he can rest his chin on the top of her head. It’s kind of comforting–even though she’s not the one who’s supposed to be comforted right now.
“I’m feeling better now,” he whispers. “Thank you, Mimi-yah.”
Mila feels herself relax in his arms at the certainty in his voice, albeit hesitantly. “I didn’t really do anything, though…”
Heeseung hums. “No. You being here is enough. For some reason, hearing about how you got angry on my behalf really makes me happy.”
It’s not something Mila expected him to say. But she understands his words as being spoken from gratitude of someone justifying any negative feelings he must have about today. Not that Mila is a psychologist or anything—but she thinks she would feel the same way.
Mila doesn’t trust herself to say something without embarrassing herself, so she just allows herself to enjoy his embrace. She  doesn’t know how long they stand there, but Heeseung eventually lets go first.
He pulls away to face her with a sweet smile, eyes twinkling down at her with mirth. “Let’s go back now.”
“Do you want some ramyeon first?” Mila asks. She pouts up at him. “You rejected me when I asked you before.”
Heeseung chuckles. “Sorry. But it’s getting a bit late for that, don’t you think?”
Mila shrugs. “There’s still time before lights out. We just have to eat super fast—oh, and keep an eye out for the ghost.”
Heeseung shakes his head, before letting Mila tug his arm towards the kitchen without a fight, where she cooks up for the two of them to enjoy before curfew.
“You know, you still haven’t told me if I did good today!” Mila points out suddenly, glaring up at the older male with round cheeks. “You were all like—” (Mila nods in imitation of Heeseung after her evaluation.) “—and didn't say anything else.”
Heeseung chuckles. “Sorry. But you did good,” he says indulgently, pinching her cheek slightly. “Don’t sulk.”
“Hmph, you could have said so,” she mutters under her breath.
“What’s that?” Heeseung leans down so that their faces are only a few centimetres apart. “Besides, you’re the one who ditched me for other trainees.”
Mila blushes at their proximity and almost chokes on her ramyeon. “That’s—! They needed help, and you seemed to be doing fine on your own.” 
Heeseung simply laughs at her, and his eyes light up ever so prettily. Mila wants to be annoyed, but seeing him smile so carefreely causes her to warm up on the inside. She can’t help the reciprocal smile that grows on her own face, because she’s just glad she can see him being happy.
Maybe Kiara was on to something when she said that Mila would be able to cheer Heeseung up and she has some superpower that lets her turn frowns upside down.
(…Or maybe, Kiara has finally figured out Mila’s little puppy crush on him, and knows that Mila would never let him be sad for a moment as long as she has anything to do with it.)
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