#Hang up your struggle shoes and dance in joy!

[daryldixonsdoormat]

Could I request ice skating or dancing in the rain with Murphy or Daryl? Please and thank you

frozen over

You and Daryl both decided to search for Rick after he ‘died’. You both had the same plans, bring back Rick and give him a proper burial. But things weren’t easy at the beginning you and Daryl both were temperamental for months before you got along. You both grown closer than ever though, hearing the sobs of one another and seeing the pain. But your relationship started in the dead of winter. Daryl offered you to stay in his tent Since it was cold outside you yours had a hole in it. One thing leads to another and you both kiss throughout the night making your relationship more than a fantasy. But it’s been a year since then and things are about to change. Daryl set out this morning to hunt for food, while you started the very little chores that needed to be done. Daryl said he would be back by sundown and he was. He flips the tent flaps open a calm expression on his face, a dog is trailing behind him every step he makes. You raise your eyes brows in confusion, Looking from Daryl to the dog sitting beside his foot now. “Got good and bad news”  eyes flicker to his face again waiting for the news he has to share. “Good news is I found an abandoned cabin, bad news is tha’ this damn dog keeps following me” you smile brightly at his words and start packing the majority of our clothes into the bag to be prepared for the morning. Daryl lays down on the sleeping bag with a grunt staring at your figure. After finishing packing everything we needed to leave, you straddled his waist peppering his face with quick kisses. His lips upturn in joy at the affection hands on your waist firmly. When morning comes everything including the tent is packed up and ready to go, the dog is still following behind us. The walk isn’t that long but still fairly lengthy, but the view is beautiful with the snow covering everything. When the cabin is in view dog runs ahead and starts wagging his tail waiting on the front porch. Daryl scoffs in amusement and walks towards the cabin as well. You all walk in and Daryl is immediately putting wood into the fireplace looking for matches to start the fire. You survey the area a fond smile not leaving your lips. Going through the closets finding a bunch of useless stuff but the ice skates catch your eye. You grab the skates carefully on the backs of the shoe and take them into the living room where Daryl is sitting on the couch petting dog. “Sooooo I was thinking, maybe we can go ice skating” you say showing him the two pairs of skates that were hidden behind your back to him. He grins at you shaking his head no and turning his head to dog. You groan loudly and put on your pleading voice. “But Babe there's a lake outside and everything is frozen over, even walkers” he lets out a puff of air looking at you again trying not to fold. Your skates fit perfectly but im sure Daryls are a little snug, probably for the best so he cant get out of them. You both get onto the ice steadily hands locked together trying to keep balance. But Dog goes full speed ahead on the ice slipping and sliding across it on his stomach. Its beautiful outside trees covered in snow surrounding the lake and the bright stars providing a perfect light. You and Daryl chuckle and start trying to move across the ice with better success. But of course Daryl gets the hang of it easy only falling on his ass once bringing you down with him. You on the other hand are not so good, you've fell a total of 6 times so Daryl now is holding you up right. He takes your hand and spins you around carefully but you still nearly fall. He laughs at you struggling helping you keep your balance non- the-less. Snow is falling harder then before coating Daryl's body along with yours. You both have a silent agreement to get off the ice soon so no one gets frostbite. But when he is twirling you around and dancing with you on the ice its like nothing matters. He dips you down into his arms to finish the dance and then leans in. His cold lips hit yours softly and leave when he pulls you back up into the standing position. You both skate off the ice until dog comes slamming into your legs sending you all flying into the snow with your heads thrown back in laughter 

[macnevercries]

All I need is You (Tsukishima x Plus F! Reader)

Warnings- plus sized reader, size kink, established relationship, breeding kink, creampie, mentions of pregnancy, praise

Word count: ~1.5k

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You unlock the door, pushing open the heavy wood and walking into the entryway. Your new favorite thing was coming home from work and being greeted by your new husband in your shared home. The honey moon had been amazing but it’s just so peaceful in everyday life with Tsukishima.

“Kei, I’m home!” you shout down the hall, taking off your coat and hanging it up. A tall blonde head peaked out of a door, a smirk taking over his face as he sauntered over to you. Wrapping his slim arms around your center, enveloping you completely with his frame.

The difference in your guys’s size was laughable. Tsukishima was extremely tall    with a lean and muscular build, you were quite a bit shorter than him and curvy. You were complete opposites but that didn’t make Tsukishima love you any less. He absolutely adored the way your body fit into his arms, so soft and comforting to hold. It was so easy to just be to be together, holding each other silently was the most calming thing. 

You giggle as you pull out of his embrace, the hesitation in his hands at leaving your side obvious. You turn around to slip your shoes off, Tsukishima taking his place behind you and hugging you from behind, placing his chin on top of your head.

“Did you really miss me that much?” you laugh, your eyes crinkling with a smile and your round cheeks raising up. He grins at your display of joy.

“Yes.” He murmurs. Your breath catches in your chest. Despite knowing him for years, he always surprised you, his never-ending affection becoming an addiction. He chuckles at your reaction, nuzzling his face into your neck and breathing in your scent.  

He encircles your wrist in his slim fingers, dragging you into the kitchen and sitting you on a stool. He takes his place back where he was in the kitchen, his practiced hands washing and cutting vegetables with precision. His long arms reaching across entire countertops to turn on the rice and retrieve tools he left in the wrong places. Settling in front of stove and sautéing, he managed to make everything so graceful. He was, in words, perfect. 

You silently slink out of your chair, walking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist. You bury your face in-between his shoulders, tracing up and down his sides. He shudders at your touch. He had always been sensitive to the way he could feel your emotions through your fingertips. Your hands travel downwards, hugging his hips and caressing his v-line that you loved so much.

“Don't start something that you can't finish” he growls, causing you to retract your fingers from the waistline of his pants. Your digits dance back up his torso, the light brushes tickling him. You stand on your tip toes, leaning into his neck.

“Oh, I can finish this.” you purr directly into his ear. Something inside Tsukishima snaps. He switches off the stove, whipping his body around and capturing you in his grasp at lightning speed. You squeal in excitement, amused by his obvious desperation to have his hands on your body. He digs his fingers into the fat of your hips, hoisting you onto his shoulder.

“Kei! Put me down” you shriek, laughing and squirming. You move enough for him to struggle carrying you but not enough for him drop you. He stalks into the bedroom, carefully tossing you on the bed. He cages you in place with his knees by each of your hips and his large palms firmly planted on either side of your head. He meets your eyes and your lust filled gaze seeps through him. He tears his eyes away, looking for shelter from your peering innocent eyes.

“Hey you stopped taking the pill last week right?” he asks, still avoiding eye contact. You laugh at his embarrassment, cupping his cheek and tilting his face to look at you. You smile gently, easing his nerves. 

“Yeah I did. Are you sure this is what you want?” you question. You were ready to take the next step but you needed to confirm that Tsukishima was on the same page as you. 

“I am so ready. I can't wait to pump you full.” he smirks.

His words send heat pooling between your legs, soaking through your thin panties. You pinch his flushed ears to distract yourself from your own embarrassment.

“Don't be a brat now, you started this.” he snaps, kissing harsh marks into the hollow of your neck, eliciting broken whines from you as his greedy hands grab whatever he can. He pulls you up, tearing off your shirt and skirt. You try to return the favor but apparently its to slow for him, he pushes your hands away, stripping himself. He unclasps your bra before laying you back down, flinging it across the room. He stays on his knees, gazing down at the way your are spread out so deliciously for him. Your cheeks are pink and flushed, chest heaving and tits bouncing slightly with your labored breathing. 

“You are so beautiful” he breathes. You would laugh or brush off his compliment but adoration floods his eyes. You are lost in awe with his appreciation for you. 

“You are so perfect, you're gonna look so good carrying my kids” he breathes his words into your neck, his cock painfully tight in his boxers. You mewl as he tugs your panties down. He plants kisses across your entire body, collar bones breasts, stomach, hips and ending his train with an open-mouthed kiss on your slit. Your hips jump up towards his face, need seeping out of every part of you.

Crawling back up to meet your face, he kisses you passionately, the taste of you mingling on his lips. You slide down his boxers, freeing his painful and weeping cock. The red tip is leaking a mouth-watering liquid, 3 prominent veins dancing along the underside of his length. You sit up, prepared to take it down your throat but he pushes you back down.

“Not today, all I need is you” he coos. He slides the head of his cock up and down your slit, mixing together your excitement. He makes sure to bump your clit just right with each slip, causing you to jolt. He likes himself up with your drooling entrance, pushing himself in inch by inch.

The lack of preparation makes the stretch burn, but it hurts deliciously. Tsukishima has never had a lot of girth, but his length is nothing short of jaw dropping. Still with a few inches to go, you push on his shoulders, whining at the feeling of being so full.

“ ‘S too much, you’re too big” you cry, the pretty head of his cock already pushing against your cervix.

“Shhh, you can take it, you’re doing so well for me” he hushes your cries, grabbing the underside of your thighs and pushing them up towards your chest. The mating press that he puts you into let’s him slip in the rest of the way, bottoming out inside of you.

He groans at the feeling of being fully enveloped by your velvety walls, twitching and compressing around his dick. He starts sliding in and out of you slowly, grinding his hips in with each thrust, grazing your clit.

“You like it when I breed your pretty pussy like that? Good girl” he moans his words when you clench around him, almost stopping his movement. He speeds up, desperate to see you crying his name, a mess below him.

Your heavy breasts bounce with every thrust, his slender fingers digging into your plush thighs, sure to leave bruises that will last for weeks. Your wails and sobs of pleasure spur him on, making him go quicker which you hadn’t thought was possible. His hips jackhammer to meet yours, bringing you towards a burning white bliss.

The coil inside of you snaps, leaving you uncontrollably shaking, broken sobs leaving your swollen lips. He chases your high, spilling himself inside of you and slowing down but not stopping. He fucks his cum inside of you, making sure it gets deep inside so it will stay. He slips his softening cock out of your twitching cunt, giving you a kiss before getting up to get a warm towel.

He comes back to the room, wiping the sweat off of your body and dressing you in one of his clean t-shirts that dwarfs your body and new underwear. He props your legs up on a pillow, kissing your forehead softly.

“You’re gonna look so good waddling around the house for me, such a good wife” He cuddles up beside you, his limbs wrap around you like a blanket. Nothing makes you happier than coming home to your husband in your new shared home, especially when it ends like this.

[winterscaptain]

balancing out.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: thank you all for your patience this week! i hope you enjoy this one - a few of you have been asking for mom’s route 66 moment. here it is! i’ve got some really fun graphics comin out this weekend, so keep an eye out!

words: 3k warnings: canon typical mentions of injury and death, language

summary: “accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.” ― marcus aurelius, meditations. au!january 2021

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

Haley’s sitting next to you when you snap to, sitting on a bench in a park. The same park, in fact, down the block from the apartment where you first lived with Aaron and Jack in 2012. 

This is the park where Jack learned to play soccer…

You have a feeling that something terrible has happened, that something isn’t right. 

“Don’t worry about that, right now,” Haley says, startling you a little. “You’re safe.” 

You look at her, finding her surprisingly aged in the time since you last saw her. “Haley? It really is you, isn’t it?”

She smiles at you. “Glad you can still recognize an angel when you see one.” There’s something behind her voice, the glints of her offbeat sense of humor you love so much. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you snort. “You’re not an angel.” 

She shrugs with a wry smile. “Maybe not, but then again, maybe none of us are.” 

You take a moment to look around, finding the park exactly the same as you left it. Except, you note, you’re the only people there. The playground rests empty of children, curious dogs are absent from the grounds, couples lounging in the grass are nowhere to be found.

Why here? Why now?

All at once, the memory rushes over you. 

“Aaron,” you say, struggling for breath. You cough, and something wet crawls up your throat, making you cough again. Something dark lands in spatters across Aaron’s face and the collar of his shirt. You feel the compulsion to brush it away, but one of your arms feels leaden, trapped. 

He’s crying. And talking. 

“Hang on, baby. Hang on. I’m here.”

All you can say is his name, over and over, as you reach for him with the arm . There’s blood on your hands and part of you realizes you’re dying, probably. 

“What happened?” You hear yourself sputter. 

Aaron shushes you, brushing a shaky hand over your forehead. “It’s okay. You’re fine. You’re going to be okay. I love you. I’m here. You’re gonna be just fine.”

It sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than you. You don’t mind. 

Everything goes dark. 

“Haley…” You look over at her again and she grabs your arm, stemming your panic. 

She shushes you once, short. “You’re fine.” 

Tears pool in your eyes before falling down your cheeks. “I don’t want to die. I’m not ready to go. Aaron, the kids, they - ” 

“You’re not going to die,” she assures you, standing and holding her hand out to you. “You’re just spending some time with me for a little while. Is that okay?” 

Her small, concerned frown warms you, and you know she’s actually asking. There’s a kind of understanding that she’ll just go away and you’ll be left in the darkness if that’s what you want. 

It’s not. 

“Yeah,” you reply. “That’s okay.” 

“Good.” Her face brightens and you stand. She tucks your hand into the crook of her arm and the two of you begin to walk, the landscape transforming around you. 

It doesn't make a lot of sense. You seem to walk through the park, then the apartment where you lived when Isaac was a baby, then the new house in Woodbridge with the twins, then the bullpen, all the way down the block to a house you recognize as Aaron and Haley’s - the big house they bought when they moved to D.C. in ‘98. 

The house where she died. 

“I have a couple people who really want to see you,” she says, by way of explanation. “I figured it would be easiest to meet here.” 

You step up to the porch and into the house, removing your shoes out of habit. There’s no trace of the blood or broken glass from the Foyet altercation. Everything seems in place, right down to Jack’s army men neatly arranged on the living room coffee table. 

It even smells the same - the light, floral smell of Haley’s perfume and something you can only describe as Aaron winds through the house, making it feel more lived-in than any time you’d been inside it after the divorce. 

“Momma!” A little girl with dark hair streaks across the room and throws herself into your arms. 

You catch her and bring her close. She’s probably six years old, maybe a little younger. When she leans back to look at you, you’re met with Aaron’s eyes. 

The recognition is immediate and you grin at her. “Hi, baby girl.” 

She smiles back at you, a mirror image. “Auntie Haley told me you’d come to visit.” 

“Did she?” You look over at Haley, whose fondness for your daughter is open and obvious. 

It’s only fair - my fondness for her son knows no bounds. 

“Yep. Gramma’s here, too.” 

You look around, your baby girl tucking into your chest as best she can given her size. Evelyn steps in from the back porch, closes the sliding door behind her, a glass of wine in her hand just like it would be in life, and smiles at you. 

“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” she says, crossing the room to embrace you and press a kiss to your cheek. She and Haley look about the same age, maybe forty or forty-five. Her resemblance to Sean is more obvious in her youth, but Aaron’s still her own personal carbon copy. 

You relax into her arms, your daughter squished between your bodies. “Hi, Mom.” On the first inhale, the smell of her detergent washes over you and tears spring into your eyes again. “I miss you.” 

She laughs, leaning back to place one hand on your cheek and the other on your daughter’s shoulder. “I miss you, too. How are those girls? And my sweet boys?”

The thought of your family makes you smile and you attempt to push away the fear of leaving them…

Of leaving Aaron a widower again…

Stop. 

“They’re perfect.” 

Haley huffs from beside you. “Ev, can you please tell someone stubborn that dying isn’t an option here? At least, not right now?”

Evelyn smiles at you. “You’re not going to die, sweetheart. This is just a stopover point so you’re not alone. Aaron had one too, when he was in surgery a few years ago.” 

“He told me,” you say, feeling a little more confident. “He told me he talked to Haley.”

“Yeah and I reminded him it’s a good idea to pull his head out of his ass every once in a while.” 

You look over at her. “Thanks for that.” 

She snorts. “I thought he’d never ask you. It was the least I could do.” 

+++

Eventually, you end up on the back porch, sitting in the lawn chairs with the other Hotchner women. Time seems to move differently here, the golden light of the evening hours stretches far beyond what you’re used to, but it's nice. It’s not cold, not too warm, just comfortable. 

You hear the gate open and a familiar voice calls, “I thought I might find you here.” 

Standing, still keeping your little girl on your hip, you embrace Jenny with your free arm. 

Her smile is just as bright and warm as the first day you met her. Your daughter wiggles out of your grip and latches onto Jenny’s slacks. 

“Auntie Jenny, did you bring Aunt Shannon with you?” 

She shakes her head. “Not today, sweetie. Today is for your momma.” 

You take a seat on the arm of Haley’s chair and she snags her finger into your belt loop and says, “It’s almost time to go back.” 

You look back at her, a kind of forlorn feeling creeping up in your chest. “Can you come with me?” 

With a rueful little smile, she shakes her head. “No. But, I can show you something.” 

A screen sort of comes from nowhere, propped like a drive-in movie on the other side of the yard. Foyet’s there, manning the projector. You squint at him and he shoots you a salute and blows Haley a kiss. She catches it with a smile and a fond shake of her head.

By way of explanation, Haley says, “Things are a little different here. If they weren’t different here, they’d be different there.” She points at the screen and you redirect your attention. 

Time moves a little differently, but you learn that you’re watching your life unfold as if Haley hadn’t died, as if the most pivotal moment in your life with Aaron hadn’t happened at all.

You see years pass by on the screen - Foyet is eventually caught and killed (by Derek - a surprise). Haley and Jack come home. 

Aaron and Haley come to an understanding, and you make up the tripod in their odd little fitful family unit. Aaron moves back into the big house on the river - he’s never there anyways and he sleeps in the room that used to be his office when he is home. 

Emily actually dies. That one is another, rather more unpleasant, surprise. 

When you look at Haley, she tells you, “Where there is death, there will always be death, eventually. It balances out, one way or another.”

With Haley in the picture, Aaron isn’t as fearless in love as he learned to be with you, doesn’t have as much perspective. He’s riddled with self-doubt and addled with fears of disappointing her, of disappointing you.

You and Aaron dance around each other for years and years and years - it’s almost 2015 before he kisses you for the first time, almost another two years before he finally asks you out, another one before you get married, another one before you have your first child. 

Upon seeing him, you can tell he’s not Isaac. He’s a different boy, one that looks more like Aaron than you, who’s remarkably neurotypical, loud, and much scrappier than Isaac. 

Jack doesn’t call you ‘Mom’ and you’re not as close. 

Things are...wrong. 

Well, maybe not wrong, but they aren’t the same. Even with the added joy of having Haley in your lives after the fear and uncertainty, you’re acutely aware that this is the timeline that was warped in some way or another. Everything feels delayed or just off. 

You never have the twins or move into the Woodbridge house. Aaron doesn’t close the gap with Sean, who overdoses after a tumultuous battle with his addictions and demons. 

There’s a kind of smallness to that life that you don’t have in yours.

The images fade, leaving the blank screen, after what seems like an eternity spent experiencing an alternate reality that you might have wished for if you didn’t know any better. 

Haley tugs on your belt loop. “See? Couldn’t stay, can’t go back. The life you have is the best one that exists. And,” she adds with another little wry smile, “the only one you’ve got.” 

Jenny places her hand on your shoulder, your daughter still stuck to her leg like glue. “You’re not done yet.” 

“And,” Haley adds, “you have another surprise coming next year - around August.” 

At your squint, she continues with a little smile. 

“I’m not going to tell you, so you’ll have to stick around and find out.” She winks. “Thank me later.” 

When she stands, you follow Haley to the front porch. The rest follow behind you like a little band of ducklings. Even Foyet, who could be an unwelcome interloper, seems like a member of the family. Evelyn passes him a glass of iced tea when she settles in the doorway. 

It’s kind of funny, if you’re honest. 

“Aaron and Jack will be there when you wake up. Jessica has the little ones at home.” Haley holds your hands as she speaks, swinging them back and forth a little. “You’re…” She sighs, “really hurt. Like, really really hurt. You’re gonna be out of work for a little while, and your lung capacity will be pretty fucked...forever. You’ll be able to do everything, but you’ll need to take more breaks than you’re used to.” 

Your lower lip disappears into your mouth. “How’s Aaron?”

“Terrified.” 

+++

Aaron sits by your bedside holding your hand, watches the way your chest mechanically rises and falls with the ventilator. They intubated you right away to give your lung the space it needed to heal, but all he wanted was to hear your voice before they put you under, just one more time. 

It’s been a wretched three days. Your surgery seemed to stretch on forever, digging the bullet out of your chest, repairing the gunshot wound that shattered four ribs and perforated your left lung in six places. 

After surgery, you coded after your lung collapsed again due to a pulmonary embolism. That little incident sent you right back to surgery and Aaron’s blood pressure to the stratosphere. 

Since then, you’ve been stable, quiet, and, in the doctor’s words, “lucky to be alive.” 

He can still feel the blood you coughed up running over his fingers and landing on his face, the shallow heaving of your breath under his hands. 

Images of Haley and Kate and Emily flashed before his eyes as he tried to hold you together - horrible, horrible reminders. 

Would he lose you in the field, like Emily? 

Would he lose you in surgery, like Kate?

Would he be too late, like Haley? 

Selfishly, the thought of playing the part of a single parent to four young children scared the hell out of him. The twins were hardly two and a half, Isaac almost five. Jack…

He really hoped he wouldn’t have to hold Jack’s hand as he delivered another eulogy for another person he called ‘Mom.’

If he was a single parent again, he would be tasked with raising three more children who wouldn’t know their mother - wouldn’t remember you after some time. 

Just like Jack with Haley. 

He was terrified of becoming a shell of a man without you, leaving his children practically orphaned overnight. 

Sitting in the waiting room during your first surgery, he decided that he’d quit. He’d take whatever the bureau offered and quit for the sake of his children, for the sake of Jack and Isaac and Caroline and Sophia. He wouldn’t let them lose another parent to the field, to the relentless pursuit of evil. 

Now, beside you, he holds your hand and talks to you as much as he can, knowing all the while you can’t hear him. 

+++

“I love him, Haley.” 

She grins at you while Foyet rolls his eyes. “I know you do.” Pausing as if to think for a moment, she adds, “When you wake up, don’t panic. You’re intubated. It’s...” Her head wavers back and forth a little as she searches for words. “...Unnerving. And uncomfortable. But you’re tough.”  

She kisses your cheek, Evelyn and Jenny give you a hug, and Foyet kisses your hand. 

“Say hi to big man Aaron for me, will ya?” He asks. 

You snort and shake your head. “Gimme a break.”

He shrugs. “Worth a shot.” 

+++

Your eyes snap open and you see the ceiling before anything else. Remembering what Haley said, you try to ignore the deeply uncomfortable pressure in your throat, chest, and mouth as you squeeze Aaron’s hand. Jack’s asleep, his long legs curled up like a little spider in the little corner chair.

Aaron meets your eyes and immediately reaches for the call button, assuring you, “You’re alright. You’re intubated, honey. Don’t try to talk. Just a second, I promise.” 

The nurse arrives and takes care of your ventilator. You take it like a champ, mostly to avoid scaring Aaron any further. Your voice is raspy and worn when you speak. 

“Hey.” 

He takes a shaky breath. “You scared the hell out of me.” 

A little chuckle leaves you and you cough once. It hurts. “Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

“That easily,” he scoffs, reaching for a lidded cup of water with a straw. “Your left lung practically exploded. You think that’s easy?”

You take the cup of water, pulling small sips. It instantly soothes your throat and you latently realize you have a feeding tube winding its way up your nose and down your throat. 

That’s a problem for another time. 

“Easy enough. You were stabbed multiple times - I hardly think one-upmanship is useful here.” 

Your humor has the intended effect. His shoulders relax and he leans over, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Before you ask,” you tell him, “I feel like hell.”

“Yeah I bet.” There’s a little laugh in it. 

“I saw Haley, though. And our little girl. She’s almost six now.” 

Aaron perches on the edge of your bed, still holding your hand. “Tell me about her.” 

You do, as best you can remember. Things are disappearing from your memory, but you cling to the important bits. You tell him what you saw, how life would be different if Haley had lived, the way you two talked about him, the way his daughter fits seamlessly into the lives of those they’ve lost. 

“So she’s alright.” 

You nod. “She’s perfect. Haley’s taking excellent care of her, of course.” 

“Only fair,” he says. 

“My thoughts exactly.” 

+++

You’re in and out of sleep, but eventually, they remove the feeding tube and let you sit up to eat some bland pasta with some juice. It’s the best meal you’ve had in what feels like years. 

Jack sits on your good side, tucked under your arm and drinking all your cranberry juice and showing you the new games Dave got him on his Nintendo DS. The girls sit at your feet, playing with some blocks Aaron brought them. They’re attempting to stack them on your shins to no avail. 

Isaac’s sleeping against your chest. It hurts to breathe with him there, but you don’t want him anywhere else. 

It’s Aaron’s turn to sleep. He’s got untouched files on the little table beside the chair, just as he usually does. Maybe one day he’ll give up trying to pretend to do work with one of the team hospitalized. 

Haley’s right. This is the life you’re supposed to have. 

+++

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[stiltonbasket]

The babies. Anything about the babies. The babies getting lost in the rabbit field, the babies trying (and failing) to make breakfast for their parents, The babies and LQR. ANYTHING. as long as it involves the wangxian babies being cute and good babies

Lan Xiaohui's First Errand

by stiltonbasket

Summary:

“Do you have your hat, A-Yu?”

“Mm!”

“And your basket?”

Lan Yu holds up the meal basket dangling from his arm, full of delicious home-made snacks from his A-Niang’s kitchen. “Xiao-Yu has the basket!”

A week after his fourth birthday, Xiao-Yu sets off on his very first errand.

It goes (mostly) as expected.

魂兮歸来！何遠為些 室家遂宗，食多方些 稻粢穱麥，挐黄梁些 大苦醎酸，辛甘行些 粔籹蜜餌，有餦餭些 瑶漿蜜勺，實羽觴些 挫糟凍飲，酎清凉些 華酌既陳，有琼漿些

O soul, come back! Why should you go so far away? All your household have come to do you honor; all kinds of good food are ready: Rice, broom-corn, early wheat, mixed all with yellow millet; Bitter, salty, sour, hot and sweet: there are dishes of all flavors. Fried honey-cakes of rice flour and malt-sugar sweetmeats; Jade-like wine, honey-flavored, fills the winged cups Ice-cooled liquor, strained of impurities, clear wine, cool and refreshing; Here are laid out the patterned ladles, and here is sparkling wine.

—from Zhao hun (招魂), The Songs of the South

____

“Do you have your hat, A-Yu?”

“Mm!”

“And your basket?”

Lan Yu holds up the meal basket dangling from his arm, full of delicious home-made snacks from his A-Niang’s kitchen. “Xiao-Yu has the basket!”

“Shoes?”

Xiao-Yu kicks up the hem of his short white gown, showing the toes of two tiny cloth boots as his A-Die secures his hat strings. “I have my shoes, too!”

He stands still while Papa inspects the rest of his outfit, making sure that his hair is brushed smooth and that his mo’e is straight, and then he smiles from ear to ear when his parents swoop down to kiss his chubby cheeks.

“Xiao-Yu will be careful,” Lan Yu declares, peering into the precious basket and wriggling with delight at the sight of the wrapped-up snacks tucked neatly inside. “I’ll be good all the way, and bring Shugong his lunch.”

Today is the day of Xiao-Yu’s first errand: now that his fourth birthday has come and gone, he’s finally old enough to begin helping his A-Die and Papa with their duties around the Cloud Recesses, and the first important duty that A-Die decided to delegate to him was the task of delivering a lunch basket to the meishi where his Lan-shugong lives.

“Shufu has been tired lately, so he would rather not go to the senior refectory to dine with the rest of the elders,” Papa explained at breakfast. “He could have his lunch delivered out, but the food from the sect kitchens does not help to build strength. Wei Ying will cook luncheon for all of us and set aside a portion for your Shugong, and you must climb up the stairs to the meishi and deliver it to him.”

A-Yu has never even been allowed up the stone staircase to the meishi without Yuan-gege or his father holding his hands, so he spent the morning of his fateful adventure in the kitchen, almost quivering with excitement as he watched A-Niang prepare their lunch. Today’s lunch is sure to be delicious, since A-Niang made sanxian doupi filled with green onions and sweet succulent shrimp, and fried mustard greens cooked with a sprinkle of sesame seeds—and there is even a pot of hearty vegetable soup, which Xiao-Yu was permitted to stir with an enormous wooden spoon almost longer than he is. Papa packed up the doupi in a clean waxed cloth, and wrapped Shugong’s serving of mustard greens with hot rice and lotus leaves, and A-Niang put the soup in a covered dish and bundled everything into Xiao-Yu’s little reed basket with three steaming honeycakes for Great-uncle’s dessert.

“Maybe I should take it,” Yuan-gege frets now, as Xiao-Yu hefts the basket and trots past the scrubbed wooden table where he, Jingyi-ge, and Qing-jiejie were doing their homework. “Isn’t that too heavy for you, A-Bao?”

“I’m not a baby anymore,” Lan Yu declares. “I can pull A-Die’s vegetable wagon all by myself, and now I’m going to climb up the big stair to Shugong!”

Yuan-gege whips around towards Papa, probably to ask whether someone so small should be climbing up that long, winding staircase all alone, but Xiao-Yu hums his favorite lullaby and continues on his way unperturbed. When he looks back on the threshold, Yuan-gege, Jingyi-ge, and A-Qing-jie have all gone away to study somewhere else; but Papa and A-Die are still there, and A-Yu blows them a kiss before jumping down the porch steps and setting off up the path that leads away from the jingshi.

“I’m a great adventurer, climbing a mountain,” he giggles to himself, as he trundles along the grassy track and passes the smaller, straighter footpath that goes to Uncle Xichen’s hanshi. The main Lan family lives along the slope of a hill, with Shugong’s house at the very top and the jingshi close to the bottom, and Uncle’s house is right in the middle; but the hill only gets steep past the hanshi, which is why Xiao-Yu is never allowed to climb above it alone. Or at least he never was until today, because now Xiao-Yu is big enough to help Papa and A-Die with all the important things they have to do as Excellency and Xinhua-jun, so he’ll get to the top of the hill in no time at all.

During most of his walks through the Cloud Recesses, Xiao-Yu stops to look at wildflowers and peer into fish ponds along the way; but Shugong is counting on him, so he turns away from all the tempting zhuge cai blossoms and plants his chubby little foot on the bottom-most stair, staring dizzily at the steep steps as they climb up, up, up before vanishing from view. He doesn’t have A-Niang’s hand to hang on to, to keep his balance, and it wouldn’t do him any good if he did—because A-Yu has to carry the lunch basket and take care not to spill the hot soup inside, and it takes both of his dimpled hands to keep the basket steady.

“Don’t worry, Shugong! I can do it!” Lan Yu exclaims, climbing up a few more steps before squeaking in alarm as the basket lurches to the side. Xiao-Yu stops and takes off the lid right away, dreading the sight of A-Die’s delicious soup splashed all over the honey cakes—but the tiny soup pot is still tightly closed and shows no signs of leaking, so he marches up the stairs as calmly as he can before coming to a halt again when he hears quiet footsteps behind him.

The hill is completely empty aside from shrubs, a few trees, and Xiao-Yu himself, so he frowns and walks for another minute or two before he spots a pair of footprints in the grass right beside the staircase. A-Yu keeps going this time, blinking curiously when the footprints keep pace with him all the way up the mountain: one set on his left, one on his right, and one on the stairs just six or seven steps below him. They must be friendly ghosts, who saw him by himself and decided to keep him company, but they would have made their presence known if they wanted Lan Yu to see that they were there—so he pretends not to notice them while he climbs the last several chi, putting one foot in front of the other until he struggles up to the top.

“I did it!” he cries, clutching the precious basket to his chest as the meishi comes into view. “Shugong, shugong, Xiao-Yu is here!”

The doors to the meishi slide open as if by magic, and then Great-uncle is there, and Xiao-Yu toddles towards him as fast as he can before offering up the lunch basket.

“A-Yu,” Great-uncle smiles, lifting Xiao-Yu into his arms. “How did you come up all this way alone, ah? You’re too small to walk so far alone.”

“Xiao-Yu was too small,” Lan Yu announces, bubbling like an overexcited teapot when his Shugong peers into the lunchbox and makes appreciative noises at the tasty meal inside. “But now I’m big, so I can bring you food from A-Niang and Papa when you’re not feeling well! Shugong, do you like it?”

Shugong hums low in his throat. “I can see...hm, is that doupi? And Wangji’s favorite honey cakes?”

“It’s A-Niang’s best doupi!” Xiao-Yu nearly glows with joy as Shugong carries him into the house and brings out the food, transferring it to a set of serving dishes with plum blossoms painted on them. He tastes one of the doupi squares first, closing his eyes as the flavor of shrimp and scallions hits his tongue, and Xiao-Yu grabs a stray chopstick and pokes the lid off the soup pot so that Shugong can smell how wonderful it is: light and rich and savory-sweet, with pieces of soft eggplant and red tomatoes floating on top.

“It tastes divine,” Great-uncle praises, unwrapping the lotus-leaf package that holds the rice and mustard greens. “If I eat another meal like this tomorrow, I might be able to run all the way from Gusu to Lanling without even stopping for breath.”

Xiao-Yu dances back down the mountain after that, so quickly that the friendly ghosts who accompanied him on the way up keep falling behind, and collapses into Papa’s arms in the jingshi with all the satisfaction of a job well done.

“Shugong will get all better now,” he sighs, snuggling into his father’s sandalwood-scented robes. “A-Niang’s food is magic.”

“Aiyah, Xiao-Yu,” A-Die teases, as Papa chuckles under his breath and hugs A-Yu a little tighter. “It’s not magic, sweetheart. But Uncle will eat well if he likes his food, and eggplant soup and honey cakes and greens are some of his favorite dishes.”

“Honey cakes are Xiao-Yu’s favorite, too!”

A-Die throws his head back and laughs, and Papa reaches for a honey cake and feeds it to Xiao-Yu piece by piece while he regales them with the story of his perilous trip up the mountain.

“It was so high up, and I got tired,” A-Yu says importantly, licking honey off his fingers. “And there were three nice ghosts with me, but I couldn’t give them a taste of the doupi because it was for Shugong.”

“Such well-mannered ghosts! Did they ask you for some of Shufu’s food?”

“Well…”

____

“There were ghosts on the hill when Xiao-Yu was on his way to the meishi?” Lan Jingyi squawks, peering around the jingshi’s kitchen door. “Where?”

A-Qing reaches up and deactivates her invisibility talisman before pinching Jingyi’s ear.

“Silly melon!” she hisses. “He must have seen our footprints in the grass. We were the ghosts, remember?”

“...Oh. Right.”

“Hush, both of you,” Lan Sizhui whispers, his heart swelling to nearly twice its size as A-Yu yawns and falls asleep right in Xian-ge’s lap. “We can’t let Yu’er know we were there, so hush and go along with him when he asks you to help him look for his ghosts, all right?”

(And with that, the three of them tiptoe away, leaving little Xiao-Yu to his dreams in the warmth of his parents’ arms.)

[harlequinslament]

Ok so I may have made a Sensei x Tusk story...

I am so sorry for whatever you’re going to read ahead

(as a note, I gave them real names other than “Sensei” and “Tusk.” Sensei is Yamato and Tusk is Haruka. Ok back to the story once again i am so sorry)

“You don’t know how to dance?”

Haruka confessed to his embarrassing secret with a shake of his hanging head. Yamato did not seem to mind; in fact, a shimmer of excitement sparkled in his wide eyes. He rushed up to his friend and pulled him off of the small rock he was sitting on. The snow crinkled underneath their feet as the two boys skipped to the mountainside overlooking a forest of evergreen trees coated in layers of snow. The smell of pine and fresh snow reached their noses as they caught their breath.

“Yamato, what is this all about?” Haruka questioned before his eyes popped. “No… Yamato, please! I’m hopeless!”

“You’re not hopeless! It’s so easy! Just follow my lead!” Yamato beamed. If anyone else dared to grab onto his wrists and tug him forward, Haruka would have stricken them instantly with an icy blow, but he could never unleash such cold wrath onto Yamato. His smile could melt an entire blizzard, and the warmth of his hands expelled the shivering from Haruka’s body. Now that Yamato looked so overjoyed to teach him something new, how could he say no to him?

“Alright! You better not be lying!” Haruka huffed.

Yamato scoffed as he adjusted his position, “I’m not lying, I promise! Just take my hands.”

Haruka struggled to find a comfortable spot for his hands to fit within Yamato’s much smaller hands, so he resolved to grip his wrists and hope that his friend was strong enough to keep himself anchored to the ground and prevent himself from flying around from Haruka’s movements. Yamato’s fingers wrapped around Haruka’s wrists as far as they could reach before he began to list his instructions.

“Okay, it’s simple, really. All you have to do is move your feet around and try to stay balanced. We’ll start with some easy steps,” Yamato explained before he pulled Haruka along to a simple pattern of stepping back and forth. Despite the overwhelming howl of the wind, Haruka could feel the presence of a melody that they waltzed along to. Yamato seemed to hear the melody as well, for it was as if he was using its rhythm as guidance for his steps. He spared enough attention for Haruka to say, “You’re doing great! We’ll try something more intricate.”

Soon, their shuffling escaped their solitary spot and pranced through the area around them. The mountainside became their ballroom as Haruka gained more confidence in his balance and loosened his grip around Yamato’s wrists. Their circular patterns now peppered the snow on the ground in the shape of their shoes the longer they danced until those traces fused with one another into a messily formed circle. At this point, Haruka found himself laughing with joy alongside Yamato and even dared a stunt of twirling his friend in an unexpected pirouette.

Nevertheless, Yamato only reacted with a fit of giggles, “Where did that come from?” Haruka only shrugged and began leading the dance in his direction. In response to the usurp of his power, Yamato wrapped his arms around Haruka and tucked him into a low dip. “See? Now, I got y— WOAH!”

Both of the boys tumbled into the snow and burst into side-splitting chuckles and howls. The cold clumps of snow matted onto their training gis and soaked the fabric, yet no amount of freezing cold snow and ice could match the warmth of their moment of glee. They rolled onto their sides and locked their eyes for a second, their bodies still shaking from laughter. Haruka slid his hand into the snow between them, and Yamato’s hand layered over his with a gentle stroke of his thumb.

“It really is easy, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is.”

* * *

The blizzard painting the breathtaking scene with its lovely glistening snowflakes finally drifted back to the ground and settled into piles around the cave walls. Sensei watched as one of the fondest memories of his childhood—now weaponized against him to leech some form of guilt out of him—crumbled at the seams into nothing but a cruel trick. His former friend made his presence no secret, as a simple sigh of painful nostalgia alerted Sensei of his essence in the room. The thundering footsteps of the vessel with a hardened heart rattled the cave until a tall shadow loomed over him, yet Sensei could not find the courage and inner peace that he collected throughout the years to face the one he called a friend.

“You can’t even look at me anymore, is that so?” Tusk’s voice spoke, his whisper of agony poorly hidden behind a growl.

“I shall admit that, but only because I do not want to see what my mistake has done to you,” Sensei controlled his tone to speak words of wisdom, though it desperately wished to crack and shatter into sobs of remorse.

“Did you only realize it was a mistake once you found what I had become? After you found that my power surpasses yours?” Tusk countered, but Sensei’s skin crawled hearing Tusk utter such a lie.

“I knew it was a mistake the moment that avalanche took you. I should have looked for you longer,” he confessed.

Tusk flinched so hard that he nearly lost his footing and stumbled back.

“You… searched for me?”

“Of course I did. How could I simply leave you without looking for you first?”

“Then… Why did you leave?”

“Because I found this.”

Sensei inhaled a deep breath to gain composure before he turned to his friend towering over him. Even though he did not meet his piercing gaze, he picked up his walking stick with his two hands and held it up for Tusk to see. The Master of Snow hitched his breath for a moment as his eyes fell upon his lost horn fused into the walking stick that Sensei clutched to at nearly every moment. One of the horns of the helmet that Tusk bragged could never break now stood as a testament to his weakness.

How could he blame Sensei for leaving if he found that?

“You really kept it after all of this time…” he breathed, still in disbelief of Sensei’s dedication after all of these years… after all that he did to him and his ninjas.

“I could never let you go.”

The walking stick clattered into the hard snow once Sensei allowed it to slip from his hands. His hands slipped around Tusk’s wrists just like all of those years ago on the mountainside.

“It really is easy… Isn’t it, Yamato?” Tusk whispered.

“I guess it is, Haruka,” Sensei answered.

For the first time in many years of suffering and solitude, Haruka finally felt the joy of a low chuckle as his hands ill-fittingly wrapped around Yamato’s smaller wrists.

[lubdubsworld]

Bird Bones

Chapter 1  /  Chapter 2  / Chapter 3/ Chapter 4

Chapter 5

“So, did you guys think about it?” Seokjin asked casually, watching me struggle back into my shoes after getting down from the examination table. He looked a little nervous as he stared at me and I bit my lips.

“I haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. He’s gone to Seoul with Hoseok for their dance showcase.” I said hesitantly. The last few weeks had been hectic, with Hoseok preparing for the showcase and me having to tell the administration I was pregnant. Surprisingly, most of my professors were kind about it, agreeing to share notes with me personally on days when I had to miss classes. I would miss out on a few lab credits because they coincided pretty closely with my due date but that was a whole six months away and I didn’t want to worry about it right now. 

Seokjin hummed in response and waited till I was sitting down in front of him before leveling a look at me. 

“I see and ….he would have to agree too...because?” Seokjin asked pointedly, and I flinched. 

 It was a loaded question, one that made my throat dry. 

We weren’t married. There was zero reason to have his approval to put the baby up for adoption. 

With Jungkook out of town , his parents had contacted me again about the NDA. I’d told them to sort it out with their son first before approaching me again , but I knew they were getting nervous. Jungkook was making it clear that he was sticking around and it was making everyone nervous.

Including me. 

“Its not... I’m not going to say no if he says no or anything like that. It’s just ... he asked me to keep him in the loop that’s it.” I protested. 

“I’m not saying anything.” He held his hands up. “ Just ....remember who he is, yeah? He’s not.... He’s not for you.”

It was hard to forget , I thought miserably, what with everyone throwing it at my face every day. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I continued to stay at Hoseok’s place while he was at the showcase. It was better than the dorm for sure and I knew that it only made people resent me more. As a professor in my college, Hoseok had a lot of perks and most of my peers thought i was enjoying them in exchange for sleeping with him.

On the weekend before he was due to come back home, Hoseok called me from his hotel room.

“How are you holding up?” He asked casually and I could hear voices in the background. I wanted to ask him about Jungkook but I didn’t.

“I’m fine. I got my check up and Seokjin oppa told me we could fix a date to meet Yoongi and Namjoon.” I said softly, settling into the comfortable couch and tugging on the phone line. 

“Hmm.... fair enough. I’ll let Jungkook know. He’s out with Sana tonight so-”

“Sana?” I felt my breath catch in surprise. 

“Oh, yeah. she tagged along....you didn’t know?” Hoseok said casually and I gulped.

“Uh...no.. I mean ...whatever...they’re....she’s his girlfriend, right...” I laughed, sounding incredibly hollow to my own ears. Hoseok would see right through it.

“Fiancee.” He said curtly.

“What?”

“She isn’t just a girlfriend. She’s his fiancee...he proposed to her last year on the Han river with a hundred grand ring.....” His tone was dry and emotionless and yet each word cut to the bone. I couldn’t fucking breathe.

“You’re....you’re trying to hurt me.” I accused hoarsely.

He growled.

“No, I’m fucking pissed that this thing , this fact that Jungkook is engaged to Sana has been true for a whole damn year and yet all of a sudden it fucking hurts you because you’re letting your emotions get the better of you... Have I not taught you anything, Dasom?” 

I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down, my breathing ragged. He was right. He was absolutely right but it stung because Jungkook was.... Jungkook was so kind. So ridiculously endearing with his childlike amazement, his adorable possessiveness over me and yet somehow  so non judgmental and so eager to be a part of the baby’s life and how on earth could I not like someone who only seemed to want to care for me?? 

And he was wrong. 

I wasn’t an idiot. I had no intention of building castles in the air, dreaming of a happily ever after with someone like Jungkook. I would get through this and things would go back to the way they were. 

Just me and.... well Just me. Alone. By myself. The way it has always been.  

I took a deep shuddering breath. I wasn’t up to explaining all this to Hoseok. Not tonight when he was clearly angry. 

“I hope the showcase goes well, oppa.” I whispered, hanging up before he could respond. The phone rang a second later and I left it off the hook after disconnecting it.. 

I sat there for a long time, staring into the darkness. I had to talk to Jungkook as soon as he got back. We needed a game plan. A clear end to this thing between us. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hoseok oppa thinks we should meet Yoongi and Namjoon this weekend. “ I said casually, watching Jungkook closely as he sipped his iced tea. He stopped for a second, eyes widening before landing on mine.

It was a late Sunday afternoon and he had agreed to meet me for coffee so we could talk about the dinner. He looked just as good as ever, bright and cheerful. The showcase had gone really well according to Hoseok and Jungkook had gotten offers from a whole bunch of entertainment agencies. 

“So soon?” He asked evenly, grip tightening on the drink. 

I shrugged staring at the long smooth fingers. Somedays i tried to remember that night. I couldn’t imagine us being graceful, having sex while drunk out of our minds . Had he been gentle? Rough? What did he like in bed? I vaguely remembered the finger shaped bruises on my wrists, like someone had gripped them together. 

Staring at his hands now, I wondered how it must’ve felt, being held like that. 

I shook my head to clear it. Nothing good would come from going down that path. 

“I’m thirteen weeks along now...First trimester is over ….there's not a lot of chance to miscarry and-”

“What the fuck why would you say that?” He whisper shouted and I frowned.

“Jungkook....”

“That’s our child you’re talking about! Don’t even say that word!”

I could only stare at him. 

“It’s going to be very difficult for you if you don’t distance yourself from this baby “ I said quietly.  And me. 

Jungkook just stared at me , his eyes blazing. 

“Our baby....  Say it. It’s  our  fucking baby. It’s not just a baby or this baby. It’s ours. We made it. Its’ going to...fucking look like us, and it’s going to get our traits and ….I just don’t understand how you can be so callous about something so amazing and----it’s our baby, Dasom...” He was looking at me in disbelief and I couldn’t take it anymore. 

“No it fucking isn’t!!!” I hissed angrily, my heart beating fast, “  It’s not ours, Jungkook. It’s... it’s not something we should be celebrating..... You and I... we’re a fucking mistake. That night was a fucking mistake and this, this baby is nothing more than an unfortunate soul that’s going to have to share the consequences of our horrendous mistake that night!” I felt tears sting. 

I refused to let his words get to me. To make me feel guilty. Jungkook with his golden life, with his perfectly gorgeous fiancee and his filthy rich parents could afford to wax poetic about the joys of parenting but i couldn’t. 

I was a poor fucking orphan with a mother who had only cared about what was between her legs. I had to fight tooth and nail just to break out of the mould everyone had made for me,. 

“Dasom-”

“No, stop...Just...stop and for once get rid of those rose tinted glasses you have on, and listen to me okay?  We’re going to give the baby up for adoption....He or she is going to be raised by kind, loving parents who can provide a stable happy environment . We’re going to stop talking to each other after that. You’re going to go get married to your Fiancee ….I’m going to go and try and build a life for myself. That’s what’s in our future....Not some utopian universe where we raise this child , taking turns changing diapers and weekends at the fucking zoo!!” I finished bitterly.

“Why do we have to stop talking to each other?” He shot back defiantly and i felt my pulse pound. 

I glared at him and he just kept staring back at me.

“Don’t-” I began but he held his hand up. 

“I told you , I’m not going to do everything my parents ask me to. I’m... I’m trying to build a life for myself too alright? I’m not going to just... I’m not married yet. I’m not married yet.” He repeated and I felt a laugh of disbelief bubble up inside me.

“What the fuck does that even mean? You’re engaged-”

“I was engaged before I was fucking born. “ He snapped, running fingers through his hair in evident frustration. “ Sana and I grew up together. We just...we’ve been told that we'll be together all our lives and its all we have ever known. But that doesn’t mean its too late for us to think about other things...other options...”

“And you’re saying I’m another option? You don’t even like me JeonJungkook-” i laughed in disbelief.

“I think you’re beautiful.” He said softly and I felt my jaw come unhinged. 

What.

 What?

“ I saw you two years ago when you dropped by the practice room to meet Hobi hyung.. I thought you were beautiful then... So wildly uncaring about what others thought and I thought you looked amazing with your long hair and easy smile...I still do.” He was staring right at me and i felt heat creep up my neck. 

I shook my head. 

“I’m not listening to this nonsense.” i said sharply, reaching for my bag from the chair next to me.

“Hyung knows... Its why he’s always telling you not to trust me.... He knows how I feel about you and he doesn’t want the competition...” He sneered and I felt my hackles rise. Jungkook’s jealousy towards Hoseok was the most irrational thing in the whole world and it pissed me off so bad. 

“Now I know you really are full of shit-”

“He’s in love with you. He’s always been in love with you and you’re too caught up in your own self pity to notice that.” He grabbed my wrist when I tried to get up from the chair. “ Sit the fuck down and let me finish.”

“You’re spouting nonsense. I’m not interested in it...” I hissed back and he laughed.

“Nonsense? I’ve never hidden how I felt about you. Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed me watching you , because everyone else has. Why else do you think Sana is so threatened? She knows... She knows I’m attracted to you...Knows that I want-----” He stopped and I knew he was going to say ‘you’ 

‘ Sana knows that I want you’ . 

I stared at him in disbelief. 

But he just barreled on,  completely unbothered by how upset I was. 

“ I want to get to know you better. And fine, even if you don’t want to keep the baby, there is no fucking way I’m going to stop talking to you.... “ He finished. 

I tried to gather my sense which felt like they’d been scattered to the seven winds. 

“Really, you talk about your fiancee so flippantly....but I heard you had a cozy little honeymoon in Seoul during your showcase...what of that?” I hated myself as soon as I said it because it made sound so horribly jealous. 

Jungkook snorted.

“Let me guess, Hobi hyung told you that huh? I bet he conveniently failed to mention that she was attending a different showcase , a whole damn district away? That we only went out for dinner one night and I was back in like an hour?” 

I stared at him, thrown . I felt confused and disoriented, not sure what was happening and why.

This had gone on long enough. 

I could not let this man do this to me. I just couldn’t. 

“Your parents met me again.” i said softly, staring right at him. “ They wanted me to sign the NDA. Did you tell them this? Can you go tell them this? Go break up with your fiancee, tell your daddy you want to date the  girl you knocked up while you were drunk out of your mind. And then, once he disowns you and kicks you out of your house and you have nowhere else to go, come see me. We’ll go out on a date, yeah?” 

 I waited for him to respond but he didn’t. So I stood up. I slung my bag up on my shoulders and stared down at him. 

“I’m meeting them on Saturday. If you want to be there, you can. And regardless of whether you turn up or not...I’m going. I’m giving the baby up for adoption and I’m getting on with my life. ” I said quietly. 

I walked out of the cafe without looking back. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoongi sat across from me, hands twisting nervously in his lap while Namjoon poured us some water from the cut class decanter on the table. Next to me, Jungkook looked subdued and upset, eyes darting between the two men on occasion. I hadn’t talked to him after my outburst at the cafe

I peered around the house, an expensive three bedroom flat located in a good neighborhood. It was decorated tastefully and I could tell that even Jungkook was reluctantly impressed by how clean and neat everything looked. I played with the hem of my blouse while Hoseok finished his phone call, not sure what to say or how to start. 

“How are you feeling, Dasom?” Namjoon asked finally, flashing me a smile with deep dimples on either cheeks. 

“I’m doing good. I’m fourteen weeks along now and the nausea has gone down.” 

Yoongi hummed.

“My sister says the first three months are the worst.” He smiled a little and I smiled back, taking in the soft curves of his face and the nervous fingers on the lap. He looked just as terrified as I felt. 

“I’m glad you guys could meet with us. We just want to say that we’re so grateful that you guys even considered us.” Namjoon said in a rush, eyes flooding with warmth as he glanced between me and Jungkook. I felt him stiffen next to me and reached out, curling my fingers around his, pulling him closer. I linked our fingers and squeezed lightly. He squeezed back. 

“We only want what’s best for the baby, right Kook?” I said softly. He looked up at me then and I felt my heart crack at the light sheen I saw there. 

“Yeah...I...I love the baby.” He whispered and I felt a lump in my throat. 

The past few weeks, I had found myself hanging out with him way too much for my liking. For some reason, Sana stopped talking to me. She would throw occasional glares at me but she stayed away. Jungkook was conspicuously respectful. Never crossing a line enough for me to kick him away. He would throw that occasional remark that implied he was interested and shrug it off when I rejected him again. 

But he also told me that he had always wanted a family first. A wife, two kids, picket fence and all that. He loved kids,  had always been the designated babysitter to his umpteen cousins. He loved babies and he wanted as many as his fututre wife would give him. And then without warning he had just stared at me.

I hadn’t trusted myself to respond to that. 

The mind games left me exhausted. I didn’t ….not like him. He was funny , sweet and intelligent. He liked talking and he liked listening. It was just hard to enjoy when I knew what he was . A chaebol heir to a fortune. He spoke of his family with a casually dismissive attitude, about how they didn’t really give a damn about who he married and that it wouldn't be a big deal if he broke up with Sana.

But I had to remind myself that he hadn’t done it. He hadn’t broken up with her. And that meant that no matter how dismissive he was, he knew that something like that wouldn’t go by without repercussions. The fantasy of Jungkook leaving his gorgeous girlfriend because he couldn’t live without me was just that, a fantasy.  

Hoseok’s voice broke me out of my reverie.

“They’re both too young to go through with this.... Its going to be painful but like Dasom says, its the baby we need to think about.” Hoseok had hung up the phone and he stared at Jungkook, his gaze softening when he saw how miserable the younger looked. 

I pulled myself together and watched Namjoon pull out a file, containing all the formalities we would have to go through. /As i heard him explain everything, his eyes clear and intelligent, his tone gentle and kind, I felt myself making my choice. Yoongi and Namjoon loved each other deeply . They leaned on each other, evident in the way they held hands every few minutes, smiling and reassuring each other. They loved each other and they could love this baby. 

They would love this baby. 

My mind was made up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You need a ride home?” Hoseok asked casually, two hours later after we had bid goodbye to Yoongi and Namjoon. 

Next to me Jungkook stiffened. 

“I’ll drive her.” He said curtly and Hoseok ignored him, still holding a hand out.

“That’s fine Oppa, Jungkook and I need to talk.” I said tiredly. We did. There was a whole lot of formalities to be done with regards to the adoption and I wanted to talk to him about the possibility of an open adoption. Just in case he was interested. 

“You can talk tomorrow. Its already past ten-” Hoseok began but Jungkook laughed, loud and jarring. 

“What you think I’ll have my way with her and knock her up? Bit too late to worry about that right?” Jungkook drawled next to me and I felt my eyes widen in shock.

“What the- Jungkook are you crazy? Apologize!!” I hissed but he glared back at Hoseok defiantly.

Hobi chuckled a bit.

“You’re really asking to get your ass kicked Kook-ah... I’d tone down the blatant disrespect if I were you....” He said , eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“Maybe I will, if you stop lying to Dasom about how you really feel about her.”

I lost it entirely, turning around to shove him away.

“Jungkook what the fuck?!” I shouted but he gripped my wrists, stopping me from hitting him again. 

“Tell her hyung....tell her how you picked up a fucking engagement ring in Seoul....? How you told Seokjin hyung that you were going to propose when she graduates because, let me quote you, ‘ she’s docile and adjusting. She’ll make a nice companion’“

I froze. I turned around to stare at Hoseok and felt my heart drop at the sharp sharp look of guilt om his face.

I stopped struggling against Jungkook, sagging against him when ice cold disbelief flooded my veins. 

No. No , it couldn’t be.  

“You-what?”  I whispered. 

Hoseok stared at me. 

“ Don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming.” He said blankly. I felt bile rise up my throat. 

“Oppa-”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Hoseok snapped. 

I flinched when Jungkook’s grip tightened around me , a growl making his chest tremble. 

“Hyung , don’t-” He began angrily but Hoseok cut him off, staring at me with blazing eyes. 

“You’re always around me ..” Hoseok ground out, “ You’re literally the only person I’ve known and loved all my life.... So sue me for wanting to take responsibility for you and-”

“I’m not your responsibility.....I’m twenty years old...”

“And look how well you’re doing yeah? Knocked up with some guy’s bastard .....Just like your moth-”

I felt Jungkook move behind me and my instinct kicked in. I turned quickly gripping his arms and putting myself between them to stop him from lunging at Hoseok. 

Hoseok looked unapologetic as he stared at me. 

“If you marry me, you’ll at least be respectable.” He said softly and it was like a veil getting torn, showing him for who he really was. 

Someone who thought I was a charity case. A poor , flailing mess of a human that needed his charity to survive. 

I nodded quietly. 

“Okay. Thank you for lowering yourself enough to consider marriage with someone like me....” I said softly and he hissed.

“That’s not what I-”

“That’s exactly what you meant.” I said sharply, turning around. I couldn’t look at him anymore.

“Take me back to the dorms, yeah?” I looked at Jungkook and he nodded.

“Anything you want.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around me before throwing one last glare at Hoseok. 

Author’s note : Send me an ask about what you thought and I will love you forever <3

[auriel187]

Falcon and The Winter Soldier (and The Tigress)

Word Count: 1467

Warnings: Language

Ships: Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader(eventually), Sam Wilson x Black!Reader (platonic)

A/N: If anyone doesn’t like the fact that the reader is black, go away.

"This depression," said Wanda, "it is as if there is a force pressing down on me. So, this music that goes with that flow, that surrenders to the pressure, that's just assisting the depression, not me. I need the artists who struggle against depression and discover ways to win, how to step out from under this invisible anvil and rediscover the forces that uplift the soul." Y/n reminisced of the red headed telepath’s word from the last time they spoke.

She had always loved the flowers and the birds, loved the sunlight and the clouds that drift by. She had always loved the way the leaves move in a breeze and that soft whispering sound they make, like nature loves to chatter too. Yet the tiredness that began a while ago remains like a veil over her skin, grey and cold. And as she watches the petals and the twigs that sway outside the window, there is only a creeping sorrow where there should be joy. It sits like November rain on her skin, enough to chill what was once warm inside. At any other time she would have called a friend, asked for the warmth she needed to ward it off, just a little is enough.

No longer. Now she just lets it come, drop by drop and she feels like it is an ocean falling upon me instead of rain - that the grief of years she carefully suspended has all condensed right above her head into a cloud large enough to block the sun. They say it can't rain forever, that there will come a time when it must cease, that the last drop will have fallen. Thing is, she just doesn't care. She will still be true to myself, still help others, but she planned to just stay here in the cold, comfortably numb.

“Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered posing stoically.” The audience let out a small chuckle as Sam spoke fondly about the man whose shield he was holding.

Y/n felt her stomach twist as she saw the senator nod his head at Sam’s words. She watched as the smile faded before he continued. The sounds of cameras shuttering filled the silence.

“The world has been forever changed,” Sam continued “a few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes.” It made Y/n shudder. ‘New heroes’ like the old ones were replaceable. Heroes like Steve. Like Tony…

Like Nat.

Steve giving his shield to Sam was a message. ‘Sam, I trust you will do the right thing, ' was that statement. Sam giving his shield to the Steve Rogers exhibit is the right thing. At least in his eyes. He was right, the world needed new heroes.

“Ones suited for the times we’re in. Symbols… are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning.” Y/n grimaced, fiddling with the bracelet that clung to her wrist. Her painted black fingers ran over the word ‘котенок’ as she walked with burning tears that she blinked them away. “And this thing…” Sam chuckled, staring at the shield. I don’t know if there’s ever been a greater symbol, but it’s more about the man who propped it up, and he’s gone. So, today we honor Steve’s legacy. But also, we look to the future. So, thank you, Captain America, but this belongs to you.” The room burst into applause as he placed the shield in a cube shaped display case.

When Sam spotted Y/n in the crowd, he hopped off the stage and walked up to her. He had a small smile on his face as he pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m glad you made it.” He whispered into her dark curls.

“Of course I came, Sam. You know what you and Steve are to me.” She kept her voice steady and cold, not that Sam seemed to mind. He of all people knew what would happen if she got emotional. The label angry black woman wouldn’t even cover it, being what she was, she would be shot on sight without question.

“Are you doing alright? It’s been a while.” He pushed her shoulder lovingly as a small grin broke across her face. She tried to play it off like she was fine, but Sam knew better.

“I just miss them. I’ll get over it.” Y/n replied with a shrug, the pressed silk top hanging loosely off her starving frame.

Grief made people do crazy things. In Y/n’s case the loss of three of the four most important people in her life made eating relatively hard. Especially when the three she lost would still be here if they hadn’t gone back to save the one she lost. Her loss stared her in the face every time she saw her one, and now only, closest friend. “Y/n, I think we both know that’s not true, otherwise you’d be over it. I know it’s hard. I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through but you can always talk to me.” To which she nodded. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.” He said quietly, backing away slowly, leaving Y/n alone. Y/n took a look around the room but found nothing left to keep her there, so she left, heading to the only place that felt like some semblance of home.

Standing in the building that reminded her of everyone she loved and lost, Tony Stark’s name, Steve’s punching bags, the room painted a deep scarlet with a mirrored wall. Y/n walked deeper into the room, peeling off her heels replacing them with ballet shoes before calling out, “Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y, Can you play my ‘Family Playlist’ please?” She asked, beaming at no one in particular when ‘Back In Black’ began playing over the speakers. Her thoughts were running a mile a minute as she danced on par as the music changed from song, after song, after song.

You pay for everything one way or another. If you are lazy you will pay with the pain of failure. If you love to eat and indulge you will pay with the price of your health and self esteem. Yet if you love ballet, if you wish to fly as if God had remembered to sew on your angel wings, you will pay in the pain of training, in daily dedication, sweat and struggle. If you love someone, you have to sit and watch them in pain, suffer in ungodly ways…die. Those who try to save the world are always the ones that die to save it. In this life, what are you paying for and how? The cost-benefit see-saw is always there. Y/n learned from an early age that her emotions were a thing to suppress, and so when the ballet teacher asked for them they came forwards as an untapped fountain and took all by surprise. They called this her gift. She called it her release. The only thing that kept her from lashing out.

“You just keep dancing,” her teacher said, watching as she spun with excellent pursition. “You don’t stop until the burning in your body is too much.” Y/n was at that point but she pushed through it. She didn’t stop until the playlist ended and just as she made her way to the ‘Red Room’, her Red Room, she found her way home. Clicking the TV on to fill the silence her heart dropped when she heard it.

“-Unrest, in the wake of recent events, has left us vulnerable. Everyday Americans feel it. While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America’s greatest values. We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero.”

She was physically quaking with unbottled rage. Her eyes were trained on the TV as a man, a white man, came into view on the screen waving it around like it was a fucking trophy to flaunt. She unconsciously walked up to her flatscreen and waited. She wanted to hear them say it. She wanted to see if they had the balls to say it.

“Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.” She punched the TV with the force that caused her knuckles to bleed. Right in the face of the man carrying Steve’s shield. Sam’s rightful shield!

[anonymous0writer]

you are in love | wonderland s.s

author: @anonymous0writer

wc: 2106

warnings: drinking (all characters are 18+)

a/n: this is the first of my wonderland series for s.s and i hope you like it

summary: for the last night of their senior year, the pack is determined to make senior night count and have no regrets. after a wave of bad news has delaney indulging in alcohol, prompting her to act on long held feelings for a dark-haired boy.

Sunken into the overstuffed fluff of a couch, Delaney Halstead threw her head back, swallowing the contents of the tiny bottle gripped in her lime-painted fingers in one determined swallow. The liquor burned down her throat, a rough but pleasant feeling; the girl always liked the hearty burn of vodka. Her chartreuse colored eyes fluttered closed, her mascara coated eyelashes resting against her pink flushed cheeks, relaxing into the feeling of the alcohol and the comfort of the couch enveloping her tall body. Her long, tan legs were tucked under her black, tight fitting dress clad body as her outrageously tall heels littered the hallway’s patterned carpet floor. Delaney nonchalantly wished for another small vial of vodka to be nestled in her tiny thrifted purse that she could finish off. There was not enough alcohol in her system for the girl’s liking; desperately wishing for the distraction of intoxication to forget the sting of Brett’s breakup speech. Delaney had known it would happen, the parting before she was off to DC and Brett stayed in Beacon Hills, but she didn’t anticipate the hurt when the cerulean eyed lacrosse player bid her goodbye. The girl also desperately wished for the bittersweet ache of having to say goodbye to Beacon Hill High School in the cavity of her chest to fade and let her graduate in peace, but it would not relent. The empire of honey-soaked memories and unforgettable experiences she built over the course of seven years flashed behind her closed green eyes. Graduation is a bitch, Delaney decided with a tipsy finger lift that in her half-drunk state, solidified her statement.

Scuffed, dirty white converse hit the patterned dark green carpet as they moved down the hallway, hesitant in their direction. Malia Tate stood in the darkened hallway leading away from the gymnasium where Senior Night was in full swing, her russet eyes searching for her tall, chartreuse eyed friend. Malia wandered down the long, barely lit hall, her thin fingers drumming against her side as she came across the beige, overstuffed couch and the girl hidden in its depths. She dropped next to her friend, her thin cobalt dress sliding up her tan legs as she settled next to a tipsy Delaney. At the feeling of the couch dipping under the weight of another person and the warmth radiating off them, Delaney cracked open her pale eyes in a suspicious glare. She groaned when she saw Malia’s familiar russet eyes and her soft smile that made her plump, pink glossed lips curve.

“Did you come with more vodka?” Delaney wonders, words low and dark brows raised in intoxicated expectation.

“Why are you hiding out on a couch?” Malia fired back, russet eyes calm and steady. Despite the comfort of Malia’s presence, Delaney could feel the rush of anguish over the fact she wouldn’t get to see the girl after the summer’s hot days ended.

“Answer my question.” Delaney demanded, brushing off Malia’s concern as she struggled to sit upright against the plush cushions.

“Answer mine first and you’ll get my vodka.”

“Fine.” Delaney heaved a sigh that rose her chest and brought Malia’s attention to her cleavage for the briefest second before latching back onto Delaney’s olive eyes. “Brett called it quits right before this stupid party.”

“Is that why you’re moping?”

Delaney gave her friend a glare and rolled her pale eyes, “No, I’m so very sad that I won’t get to spend every day of my sorry life with you.” Delaney’s heart gave a mournful tug at the truth in her sarcastic reply.

“Well, that too.” Malia mumbled before she stared hard at her dark-haired friend. “I’m sorry; about Brett.”

Delaney gave a rueful grin, her teeth shining in the dim light of the hallway as she reached forward and grabbed Malia’s hand and squeezed softly. “Thanks, Lia.”

“You can’t waste your Senior Night in the hallway, it’s our last night as a whole class.” A low and gravelly voice floated toward them, the owner stepping out of the pooled shadows of the hall and revealing himself.

“Leave it to Stiles to remind me of the horrible pain of graduation.” Delaney mumbled, her tone bitter as she checked out the boy for the first time that night. She’d arrived with Malia but as soon as she saw Brett and his pretty cerulean eyes, she shuffled away, claiming she needed the bathroom only to find the comfiest couch she’d ever laid in and drunk away the pain. Stiles was dressed casually, a tie loose around his neck and his hair slick with sweat and sticking straight up. A small, secretive smile tugged on Delaney’s lips before she could hide it. Stiles’s amber eyes met her own gaze and he gave her a small nod.

“There’s enough alcohol in the punch to knock you out,” He offered, his arms extended as his warm hands engulfed Delaney’s and helped lift her off the couch.

“Ah, my kind of party.” Delaney huffed, hands clutching Stiles’s upper arm for support as she teetered on her tall heels for a moment before righting herself, but she kept her arm linked with his.

“We still have the rest of the night to get through,” Malia wryly reminded her friend as the three moved back towards the gym’s entrance, ready to reenter the cavernous gym heavily decorated with streamers of maroon and silver and balloons lingering in the air like clouds. The lacquered gym floor was packed with dancing kids and the few idling near the tainted punch table. Delaney’s chartreuse eyes skipped over the crowd, spotting a tall, dark-haired Scott accompanied by an incredibly glamorous Lydia, her red curls pinned up and her fluttering dress spinning as she danced to the pulsing beat of the high-temp music blasting through the speakers.

Delaney grinned a wide, bright smile, and released Stiles to float away, walking backwards toward the mass of seniors dancing. Her laugh was silvery and melodic, making Stiles grin as the girl motioned for her friends to join her with a twitch of her lime-colored fingertips. Malia laughed and moved toward the dark-haired beauty before her, as if pulled by a magnetic force. Stiles supposed Delaney was the most magnetic person he’d met, and he was completely useless to stop her pull. Stiles’s shoes hit the ground as he joins Delaney and the rest of his friends, savoring the way Delaney’s freckled nose scrunches and her plump lips quirk into a sly grin as he joins her. Delaney tips her head back, eyes fluttering closed and the long column of her neck exposed as she releases a howl of excitement. She straightens and meets Stiles’s intense copper gaze, her eyes glazed with subtle intoxication and the freedom of losing yourself to a beat. At this moment, Delaney Halstead is the most invigorating and lovely person Stiles Stilinski has ever come across.

“Let’s party, shall we?”

Hours bled by, Delaney only familiar with the ground-shaking beat of the bass and the reedy tone of the singer’s voice and the mass of bodies moving with her in a strange unison like the beat of a heart. Her tall heels bounce against the lacquered gym floor as she moves with the music, her hips swaying and her expression one of uninterrupted joy. Delaney’s veins are alight with new alcohol and the high of knowing this is the last night with the people she’s grown up with. But exhaustion tugs at her hands, her feet barking as the sore ache creeps in and her body is slick with sweat.

Delaney pulls away from the heart of the dancing teens, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she regains her breath. Her throat begs for a drop of cold water, her feet throbbing in pain from hours of dancing on precarious heels. Despite the pain, Delaney supports a small smile and wanders lazily through the back doors of the gym, seeking the cool rush of night air. The night air soothes her skin, providing an instant rush of relief. Delaney gives a satisfied sigh, relaxing under the illuminated light of the moon hanging high in the waxen, deep black sky.

Other figures haunt the back of the gym, seeking solitude with the presence of another person or the cool air fluttering through the formerly boiling air. Delaney moves away from the exit, savoring the calm and stillness of the night and the peace from the strobing red and purple lights and the thrum of the music’s bass. A figure is shrouded in the pools of shadow from the towering school building behind them. Delaney moves closer, tentatively trying to pick out features and recognize the taller frame. Stiles’s sharp features blink back at her, his coffee colored eyes, sharp jaw and smooth complexion peppered with freckles.

“What are you doing out here, Stiles?”

The boy lifts a shoulder nonchalantly, dark eyes watching closely as Delaney moves closer, her shoulder brushing his as she settles next to him. Stiles observes his best friend as the moon light spills onto her skin, giving her an unearthly glow. Again, the dark-haired boy is struck by her beauty, finding himself admiring the silhouette of her delicately fierce features. A wry smirk fixates itself on Stiles’s thin lips, a soft huff of laughter falling from his mouth.

“I can’t hear my own thoughts in there.”

“Wow, have you ever gotten drunk?” Delaney teases, her tone light and breathless. “I bet you fucking hate that.”

Stiles gives a huff of laughter in response, allowing the night to blanket them. A beat of silence floats over the pair, both of the teens falling in comfortable silence as they search the night sky and savor the feeling of the cool breeze sliding over their sweaty skin. Delaney tilts her head up, tall, but not tall enough to reach Stiles’s gaze as she peers secretly up at him. The boy stares ahead, unaffected by the weight of her stare. Delaney, intoxication roiling in her gut, allows herself to finally appreciate the mahogany eyed boy standing next to her. The curve of his nose and the gentle plump of his lips enhanced by the pale glow of the waning moon. Delaney clears her throat softly, shaking the touch-starved thoughts creeping into her mind.

“I’m afraid,” Stiles says, voice hoarse but soft enough it doesn’t carry on the wind. Delaney waits for him to continue on, her pale eyes softly closing as she listens. “I don’t want to leave Beacon Hills. I don’t know anything else beyond California and that scares me. But I think missing this- all of it- scares me the most. You know? Like I’ve been waiting for graduation all my life and it couldn't come fast enough but now I’m just screaming for it to slow down.”

The words sink in, voicing the apprehensive thoughts Delaney’s been battling all night with the small bottles of vodka hidden in her purse. She gives a grand, reluctant sigh.

“I shouldn’t even be thinking about anything other than getting shit faced and being in the heat of the party. But I literally can’t stop thinking about how it’s gonna be when we’re gone. What gets me is that life will move on. And I’ll still be wishing I could go back.”

“Yeah. I’m scared of leaving this place and everyone. We fucking grew up together, all of us. And we're just leaving that?”

Delaney’s eyes flutter open and she watches Stiles talk, observing and admiring. Her lips part and she swallows the rising need to act on the feelings turning in her stomach.

“I’ll miss it. I don’t want to pack to break up. But I think-“

“Stiles.”

Delaney’s voice is a breathless whisper as she pulls the dark haired boy's attention to her and her wide, jade colored eyes that hypnotized him from the day they met. Stiles swallows thickly, eyes roaming over Delaney’s face as she moves closer. And then she’s tilting her face up toward him and Stiles is kissing her. Her taste fills his mouth, saccharine and tainted with alcohol. Delaney’s hands flattened against the plains of his dress shirt clad chest and his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her smaller frame flush against his. Delaney’s warm hands slide up his chest lazily, circling around his neck and threading through his short hair. They pull away, breathless and mouths agape. Stiles stares, transfixed by her taste still lining his lips and her raw, genuine smile and the gleam of her chartreuse eyes.

“Stiles,” Delaney breathes again, chest aching for breath and lips still inches above his. “I’ll miss you.”

[emilia3546]

Home - Nessian

Nesta is rudely awoken in the morning, but Cassian takes her somewhere she's never seen before, somewhere he hasn't shown anyone.

*****

Nesta blinked the sleep from her eyes and frowned at the almost-darkness that met her gaze,

"What are you doing? It's not even dawn yet." Cassian chuckled at her annoyance, and pulled the covers away, just managing to duck the pillow that she hurled at his head,

"I want to show you something, we've got to go now though." Nesta groaned as she rolled out of bed, glaring at him again before locking herself in the bathing room to wash up.

"What in hell requires us to be up before dawn anyway?" She shouted through the door, slipping her leathers on,

"You'll see."

 Half an hour later they were soaring through the sky, with Nesta burying her face in Cassian's chest, refusing to look, even when he announced the sunrise over the mountains. She squealed when he dived towards the ground, holding on tight,

"Cassian!" She screamed, "Slow down!"

"Sorry, sweetheart, I've got to pick up enough speed for this bit," he said, squeezing her a little tighter, relief washing over him as she seemed to relax slightly, and actually looked out when he leveled off, soaring through the belly of a mountain.

"Where are we?" She asked, finally pulling her face out of his chest enough to look at his face, his cheeks and nose red from the cold wind whipping her hair around her face, his own hair mottled with snow, a few loose strands dancing in the wind as he flew,

"North of the camp, hold on." He muttered as he banked around a corner, the daylight hitting them the moment he turned, emerging into a clearing that Nesta had never seen before, pine trees surrounding it from all sides, a frozen lake glittering in the center, the light glistening off its surface. Nesta squeezed her eyes shut as Cassian dove for the ground, only opening them again when he set her down on the frozen ground. "I used to come here as a kid, it was my little escape, where no-one could hurt me, or even find me. I haven't shown anyone yet, but I wanted you to see it." She gaped at the beauty surrounding her and squeezed his hand gently,

"It's beautiful." She could think of no other way to describe it, it was truly stunning, and she was left staring at the light flickering across the lake's surface when Cassian slipped away, returning moments later, something in hand,

"I made these, I borrowed a few of your shoes to get the size correct, 

"You made these," she breathed, reaching out to run a finger along the edge of a boot, the stitching impeccable, "Who taught you?"

"No-one, I figured it out myself, with many failed attempts. Along time ago, I had to make new ones most years until I was about sixteen, seventeen maybe."

"What are they?" The pristine boots had what appeared to be blades running along the soles,

"Ice shoes, they allow you to walk, or glide, along the ice." He gestured to lake in front of them, "Want to try?" She nodded, and sat down onto a boulder to change her shoes, watching him for a moment before stumbling towards the ice, trying to pinpoint how he moved, how she could copy his movements, but fell straight on her ass the moment she stepped on the ice. A rich chuckled made her cheeks flame red, and she struggled back to her feet, flailing her arms to keep her balance, but unable to move her feet, still watching his smooth, effortless movements, and tried once more to replicate them but slipped again, only surviving by grabbing onto him as he glided next to her.

"How?" She gasped,

"Try longer strokes, you have to move smoothly, not walk like normal." She held onto him as she tried again, losing her balance almost immediately yet again, and frowning with disgust at her own failure, "Hang on a sec," he spun around her so that he was stood in front and held out his hands, "Hold on to me." She did, and he started to move backwards slowly, pulling her with him, "Just get used to the feel of the ice, how the blades dig in, how they move." She squeezed his hands tighter as he picked up the pace a little, but kept her balance as he pulled her around the lake, grinning as she seemed to relax a little, loosening her muscles, allowing herself to glide across the ice better, until he let go. Then she immediately lost her balance, and slipped over again.

"You let go!"

"I thought you had it. Try again." She forced herself to her feet, and reached for his hands again, but she couldn't reach,

"You're too far, I can't reach."

"C'mere then." He grinned as she pushed on the ice and glided forwards a little, retreating as she neared him, keeping just out of reach, moving faster and faster until she grabbed a hold of him, squealing as he pulled her into a tight spin around him, maintaining her balance, albeit just barely until he stopped and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and chuckling at her frown,

"You prick." 

"Aww, am I better at something?"

"No, of course not, you've had 500 years of practice, that's all."

"So, I'm better, then."

"No." He chuckled, and pulled her into his side, kissing her temple as she scowled, 

"Thank you."

"What?"

"For coming, for not laughing at me."

"Why would I laugh at you?"

"Because I used to run away here to escape my problems,"

"We all run away from our problems, I could never laugh at you for finding a way to cope." She looked up to meet his eyes, "You are not pathetic, Cass, not for this, not for anything else, you could never be." She lifted her face at the same moment he dipped his, meeting his lips quickly, "And I love you." She added after he pulled away, "Now, teach me how to do this properly."

 Nesta spent the rest of the day gliding around the lake, falling more times than she cared to count, and chasing Cassian when he let go. She only stopped when the darkness began to gather and she could hardly see the lake, almost falling when she stepped back onto the frozen earth, laughing as Cassian caught her again, the sound rich and melodic, and Cassian grinned, exactly as he did every time she laughed, every time she smiled, every time he saw her truly happy. He swept her into his arms, making her laugh even harder,

"I can walk, you know."

"I know, but I want to carry you, it reminds me that you're really mine, that you chose me."

"I'll always choose you." She whispered, brushing a ghost of a kiss against his collarbone, wrapping her arms around his neck, sighing in contentment as he settled down against a boulder, setting her onto his lap, and pulling his wings around her, the sunset sending flashes of red, and orange, and pink shooting across the sky. 

She sighed again as he echoed her, kissing all along her collarbone, and working his way up her neck, holding her tight against his chest, using a wing to lift her chin, giving him access. She gripped his arm around her waist, and leaned back into him, her eyes still on the fading light as he lightly tugged on her earlobe with his teeth, before releasing her and allowing her to spin around to face him, both hands cupping the sides of his face, fingers tangling in his hair, now loose from the bun it had been in earlier, and she grinned, a sense of contentment filling her entirely.

 "I love you." He whispered, the only sound in the whole clearing, and tears formed in the corners of her eyes,

"I love you more," She whispered as he brushed them away, snuggling into his chest as the cold night air nipped at her skin, and he pulled his wings in tighter around her, shielding her from the cold, from everything. She was here, she was his, and she really, truly loved him, the way he had thought that no-one ever would, that no-one ever could, but she did, she loved him, and his heart ached with love for her. There was no-one else, there never had been, not like this, no-one else who made him whole, no other half of his soul, no-one who could make him laugh with one look, no-one who made him worry so much when they were away, no-one who made his heart sing with joy the first time he saw them every day, no-one he would rather have watching his back, beside him every day, forever.

"Marry me." He breathed, "Marry me, Nes." She stilled in his arms, and when she looked up, her eyes were brimmed with tears,

"Yes." She said, whispered, "Yes." He could have laughed with joy, but he took her face in his hands and kissed her, properly, her mouth opening to him almost instantly, and she grasped his jacked tight in her hands, pressing herself as close as possible.

 She laughed as she pulled away for a breath, "We're mates anyway. D'you want to mate or marry first, I don't know what the done thing is?"

"There's not really a 'done thing', but I want to marry you properly first, if that's ok?" She nodded and kissed him again, nesting into his chest as he held her tight against him again, his wings blocking out the cold of the night, the red undertones practically shining beneath the black, home. She was home.

Part 2

[minteagalaxea]

nebulochaotic | j.w.w

wonwoo and haseo

genre: fluff, some angst, tension

word count: 1.9k

inspiration: the “home run” music video, cable girls, the roaring twenties.

note: i haven’t posted a story in a while...and this is very crazy. 

"operator seventeen, how can i help you?" the voice inquired, tone neutral and apathetic as she spoke through the phone.

"yes, could you connect me to choi seungcheol, number 808, please?" the other responded, the masculine timbre mimicking the expression from the operator.

"of course, one moment, please," came the natural response, and there came the click of a connecting wire, following by a few cranks of the dial, "hello, you have a call from 717, would you like to accept it?"

"yes, please," she heard the voice on the other end call, and she connected the two speakers, letting the conversation commence between the two men, surreptitiously scrawling down written notes until the discussion ended.

after a few moments, the woman plugged a new cable into the board, turning on the switch as she stated, "detective lee, i have some information for you."

"mr. jeon, a pleasure to meet you here," the man spoke casually, taking a seat across him on the elegant couch of the club.

"detective lee, what a coincidence," the other returned with the same perfunctory manner, though considerably terser than the former, "how can i satisfy you tonight?"

"you wouldn't happen to know any information about the diamond heist, would you, mr. jeon?" he inquired with his amiable, easygoing grin, with the underlying tones of animosity.

"i do not, detective lee, though i am surprised that you've heard of that—i had thought it was a private subject."

"then, you are privy to the details," the latter remarked triumphantly, "are you aware of its whereabouts, or anyone that would know?"

"even if i were privy to them, the majority of what i do know is from the grapevine, although i'm curious as to how you acquired this information."

"it's like you said, mr. jeon: i heard it through the grapevine," he answered briskly before his eyes wandered to see a woman, her hair curled hair and lips painted, peering at them before averting her eyes, "either way, have a nice evening."

"to you, as well," the man bid farewell, before rising to his feet to approach the young woman, extending a hand as he inquired, "care to dance with me, miss?"

the woman took his hand and looped her arms around his neck; they swayed in small harmony, the jazz-tango trumpets and double bass permeating the void caused by silence. he took note of the way that her eyes flickered towards the clock in the corner as the sultry tones began to fade; "did you have somewhere to be?" he inquired, receiving a small nod.

"i hope i'll be able to see you again," he speaks, earning a small nod from her as she loosened his grasp, shoes clicking on the floor as she left the building.

"operator seventeen, i was wondering about something," the voice on the other end reported, "your name."

"you're venturing into dangerous waters, sir," she retorted evenly, "although, there must be a reason as to why you're curious about it now, considering i've answered your calls ever since the beginning of my job."

"well, i thought since you'd be my operator unless drastic circumstances arise, i should get to know the lady that's handling my conversations."

a faux sigh escaped her lips before she lilted, "i suppose it would be fair, considering that the chances of us intentionally crossing paths is improbable—kwon haseo."

"thank you for telling me, miss kwon; now, could you please connect me to kim mingyu, number 416?" he requested.

"of course; one moment, please," haseo's tone reverted to her proper, business tone, pleasantries aside as she plugged in the other cable to the required number, cranking to ring. "hello, you have a call from 717; would you like to accept it, sir?"

"yes, please," the other voice remarked, and as she connected the line, she attempted to funnel their dialogue to its most important, though she found herself listening more anyway, fond of the man's baritone voice.

17 carat teemed with people, dancing to the big band jazz and drinking the bootleg alcohol to forget their sorrows and menial struggles of the day. wonwoo wove his way through the myriad of touchy hands and inebriated lips, landing his dark eyes on the girl from the night prior, swirling a glass of wine between the space of her fingers. her head leaned down, almost worn as he watched her exhale shakily; "is the alcohol not sufficient for you tonight, miss?" he questioned.

"just had long workday, sir, though i appreciate the concern, nonetheless," she reassured, tone sincere and laced with the exhaustion of her day, turning her head to peer at him with a nebulochaotic smile, "i danced with you last night, didn't i?"

noting the tilt in his head, the woman attempted to repeat her statement, sighing after repeating it innumerably, though she leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek, standing up and stepping out the bar sluggishly.

"so, let me get something straight—you have an infatuation for the switchboard operator you speak to daily, but you also have an infatuation with the woman you dance with whenever she is present here?" seungcheol inquired.

"that would summarize it," wonwoo affirmed, sighing, "both of them are charming in their ways, but i don't think it's the best idea to have a crush on a woman i've never seen and another i've never heard."

"you've never seen the switchboard operator, and you haven't heard the looker you've been giving heart-eyes to speak?" mingyu elaborated, eyes bulging widely, "wonwoo, i know you pay us and are our superior, but how exactly did you manage to find yourself enraptured with somebody knowing that that puts either woman in danger?"

"i know, mingyu, you don't need to remind me," the elder grumbled to himself, taking a sip of his scotch, "and i'm probably going to regret it if i drag her into this business."

"have you ever considered, wonwoo, that they might be the same person that you've just encountered at two vastly different points of the day?" soonyoung theorized.

"there's something offputting imagining her to be a lethargic, unamused operator with her smirking," wonwoo shook his head; his mind felt perplexed at the thought of combining the two people to create a single entity.

"soonyoung possibly is right," seungcheol affirmed, "yes, you find yourself enamored with her, but what if it isn't two different people—"

"what is our status report regarding the package, seungcheol?" he cut off sharply, "we don't have much time between acquisition and transfer."

releasing a sigh, the man responded, "minghao has the package, which he received from hansol, who will have it transferred and exchanged at the telephone company."

"what time is optimal?"

"9 am sharp, and not a second later," he reported firmly, "chan will take the package and have it safely transported."

"what about other bypassers—we can't afford to have witnesses derailing the entire operation, boss," mingyu indicated in the plan.

"well, we just don't have to be there by the time the authorities arrive," the leader remarked, smirking devilishly at the group of men, "but, anyway, enjoy the evening. after all, the night is still young."

as the group of men dispersed, another pair of steps made their way over to him, her hand extending to his shoulder, eyes glowing in concern. "i'm alright, just stressed from my workday, doll," wonwoo reassured.

a huff of sympathy blew past her lips, and she reached for his hand, rising to her feet as she tugged his body towards the dance floor, wrapping her arms around him as they sway to the big band jazz. eventually, he began to twirl her, his figure loosening with her movements, finding joy in her figure contorting and bending as he placed his hand against the small of her back.

wonwoo's period of relaxation ended abruptly, however, when the woman departed, though she leaned upwards to leave a kiss to his cheek. yet, he turned to have it land on his lips, coiling over her close before she departed, a wistful expression on his face as he spectated, a hand brushing his lips.

"haseo, please go home, doll," she heard the man on the line forebode, "i don't want you to get hurt."

"what do you mean by that?" haseo lilted, her tone slightly nervous, although she had to do her best to stifle the smirk on her lips.

"your workplace will be in danger in the next hour," he growled, "go home. if you value even a minute semblance of your life, then please evacuate the premises now, doll, for my sanity."

"i...okay," she acquiesced, "and, umm...stay safe, too, wonwoo, for my sanity," hanging up quickly before garnering suspicion from the man in question, her fingers rapidly rearranging her cable to connect to a different line.

"detective lee," haseo warned frantically, her fingernails tapping at her workstation, "i believe the exchange is occurring in an hour at the telephone company."

"how exactly did you find out this information?" the man inquired rapidly, "who told you."

"jeon wonwoo told me," she answered, "he told me to leave work to prevent inserting myself into the crossfires and becoming potential collateral."

"we'll be there promptly, but, haseo, he is aware how you acquired the information, right?"

a brief moment of silence permeated the two of them before the girl raised her voice to answer the question, "if he didn't before, then he finds out today."

his footsteps entered the building, and the others extended their guns as they circled the premises, seungcheol releasing a gunshot and eliciting screams from the men in the building.

throughout the commotion, wonwoo skirted his way through the droves of panicked people, before settling his eyes onto minghao and chan, who exchanged the parcel. before he could engage in further chaos, he felt a cock of the trigger directly by his ear—"jeon wonwoo, you're under arrest for robbery, money laundering, and for direct defiance of the volstead act."

"you have no proof of that, detective, and even if you did, they wouldn't be substantial enough to warrant a sentence."

"perhaps so, but i believe that all our evidence would be your word against your own in court, wouldn't it, haseo?" he teased, and wonwoo noted a figure in a black pantsuit, a coat over her arms as she spectated all the chaos.

feline-like eyes met large, doe-like ones, though both were unreadable as they stared at each other in the middle of their nebulochaotic surroundings.

[welcome-to-green-hills]

I need some sweet father and son headcanons of Tom and Sonic again! Your first round of headcanons were so adorable, I need more of Tom and Sonic.

Awww, thank you, friend! Tom and Sonic headcanons always seem to be the popular ones for me to do. Those two are partners in crime!

Sonic and Tom both have a fond love for quality old-school music. Both will rock out to Aerosmith, LED Zeppelin, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Van Hallen, Nirvana, Green Day, old rock and roll music lovers. They talk for hours about their favorite albums and the meaning of songs. They even love to sing their favorite songs in harmony.

Tom loves to share corny Dad Jokes with his son every opportunity that he gets. Tom struggles to get to the punch line sometimes due to cracking himself up over how cheesy they sound. Even though Sonic will act annoyed with them, he secretly loves it and grows happy each time he hears them. He figures that terrible joke telling me what friends and family do with one another and loves to be apart of that engagement.

On top of the Dad Jokes, Tom loves to do magic tricks in front of Sonic. One of Tom’s favorite tricks to do with Sonic is “pull” a quarter from his ear, then putting it “back” in. Awestruck, Sonic as tried several times to see if he can magically pull a quarter from his ear by hitting the side of his head. Every time Tom sees Sonic hit himself on the side of the head in hopes of finding a quarter, Tom can’t help but laugh and pull a quarter out for him to use.

Due to Sonic’s immense power, he produced a small electric aura that cloaks his mantle. Tom discovered that he can place his cellphone in his son’s head for a few minutes and his phone’s battery will charge. Sonic gets a kick out of it, but not when it’s allergy season. He sneezed once and his phone went up in flames in Sonic’s head.

Tom has tried a couple of times to take Sonic fishing with him. Growing up, Tom remembers fishing with his father the great memories that the two had on the lake. He had hoped that it would be the same with him and Sonic... which is never the case. It’s the same events: just a few minutes in, Sonic gets bored and wants to sword fight with the oars. They get lost in the lake, then the two argue about losing them. Tom forget to bring them lunch, Sonic eats the bait and get sick. Once when Tom thinks that he catches a fish, Sonic gets excited and jumps in the boat and causes it to flip over. And there that one time Sonic accidentally drove the Tacoma into the lake... he’s not allowed to drive the truck when Tom drags him out to the lake.

Tom and Sonic bond over playing baseball and catch in the backyard. Sonic states that he’s always wanted to join a team, as well as play in the playoff with the kids on the Greenhills team when he was growing up. Tom, always growing up with playing baseball, took it upon himself to enroll Sonic into the team and coach him and the other players each season. They’re undefeated!

Going to the Speed Trap is one of Sonic’s favorite things to do with Tom at work. When days are slow—which is ever day—Sonic and Tom will reinact their favorite scenes from various cop movies and TV Shows, clock in Sonic’s time when he runs across the country, and eat three boxes of Jellee’s Donuts from the ship next door. If there’s one donut left, the two duke it out and pretend to duel over it like cowboys in a Western film.

Wednesdays are a favorite for both Tom and Sonic. On Wednesdays, the two dress up as their favorite comic book heroes—Tom is “Cyclops” and Sonic is “The Flash”—and buy their comics on a discount. It’s a weekly ritual that the two love to partake in. One day visiting, Sonic found a Greenhills citizen dressed up as him in order to get a discount on her comic. He nearly cried tears of joy seeing that the young girl dressed up as her hero that day. There’s a picture of the two, and Cyclops, hanging on the wall in the shop.

Due to growing up in an agricultural town, Tom likes to do a bit of gardening in the backyard. Together, Tom and Maddie like to grow basics produce, such as carrots and tomatoes and peppers. Occasionally, Sonic will reference Tom as “Old McThomas” and sing “Old McDonald had a farm” to him when Tom goes out to garden. It didn’t bother Tom at first until Sonic sang it every time he went near the garden.

Sonic likes to try and make a nice cup of coffee for Tom everyday. He tries to do the tricks and the dance moves that some baristas at coffee shops and the only Starbucks does in town. Sonic will practice in the kitchen, often making a mess, and asks for Tom to try his... unique tasting cups of coffee. Tom doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they taste awful, but tries to drink a sip of it before throwing it out and making a new pot.

Sonic struggles with calling Tom his “father.” As much as he loves and cares for Tom as a friend, he sees him becoming more and more like a father figure to him. He would feel completely honored to be called “son” and prideful in calling Tom his “father,” but he’s worried on giving him that label. He feels that any time he gives the people that he loves a grand title, something bad happens. He would love to call him “father” one day when he feels comfortable.

Tom loves to take photos of his son and his dog, Ozzie. Besides the countless photos of him and Maddie, Tom made sure to fill his phone with pictures of him and his son out on adventures, as well as some quality bonding time. His favorite is of Sonic curled up next to Ozzie and Maddie on the couch asleep. It’s his wallpaper on his phone.

Secretly, Tom loves to rub Sonic’s ears when the space hog falls asleep between him and Maddie. When he rubs Sonic’s ears, the hedgehog purrs and chirps happily in his sleep.

Sonic does a snort-like laughs when he gets a surprised ticket attack from Tom and Maddie.

No matter where they are, whether it’s in a different town or just taking a nap on the couch, Tom has to tuck Sonic in with a blanket or his jacket in order for Sonic to sleep soundly.

Tom often spoils Sonic with new shoes every week and makes sure that he is in top-notch health. He feels guilty for not catching the little hints that Sonic would give him about his his feet would hurt him due to the stats that they were in when he first found the Space Hog in his garage. He feels guilty about not acting on it sooner and tried to make it up to him by buying him many shoes that would support Sonic’s feet when he runs.

These two are so cute! They’re just a couple of loose canons living by their own rules. One of them includes expressing deep, heart-felt emotions to one another in creative ways. Sonic and Tom are both creative in expressing their appreciation to one another, such as Sonic always thanking him for saving his life, as well as get a second chance in life. Tom likes to give him head pats and remind him that he’s well cared for and that he filled a Sonic-shapes hole in his heart. They usually high five in the end.

When no one is looking, the two are quick to give a tight hug and laugh.

I’d like to thank @movie-robotnik-positivity , @the-brucest-fan , and @writersonicfan91 for helping me come up and bounce some ideas off for these lovely headcanons. Thank you for your help, you’re all wonderful. Also, thank you for the suggestion! I am always up for making more Tom and Sonic headcanons, I love these guys!

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 30

Fandom: Marvel 

Summary:  Based on “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​

There are moments in life that stay with you, engraved in your memories for reasons beyond your understanding. Time stretched when you reminisced over them later, as if your mind had chosen to catch all of the tiniest details of what unrolled before your eyes. This was one of those moments. 

The air felt solid as you gasped, trying to heave it into your lungs. Something shifted deep in the fabric of reality, bending shapes and playing tricks with perspective. The floor under your knees shook, as if something had struck it with unparalleled force. There was a creak somewhere to your right, as if the walls wailed. The music blasting only seconds ago, ended abruptly with a series of sharp notes.

Loki’s power surged back into him, his skin felt alive with it, and he was finally free of the reins forced on him. Blood sang in his veins and magic swirled in dark curls, weaving between his fingers. It wasn't bad, living like a mortal for the past weeks. 

But there was nothing better than being a god. 

Power blasted into the last two men standing by the bar, too shaken and surprised to raise their guns again. They might have presented a pitiful sight, were it not for the bullet that was meant for you, shot without hesitation mere seconds ago. 

Loki's hand clasped your shoulder when a sudden wave hit him and muted all of his other senses. You were fine. He could feel you under his touch, still breathing, still fine�� 

But you had been so close to—... 

Loki didn't hold back his power as it rushed toward the men, sending them through the air. They landed hard into the scattered tables. The wind tore at whatever was loose, hurtling it in any and all directions. The few people that were still in the club scattered off into the entrance, almost blocked by the writhing mass of bodies pressing into one another in primal fear of the unknown and the chaos and… him. 

And Loki knew that they were right. He could feel their feverish, half-mad eyes burning through him and the mess surrounding the area. Chairs had been thrown and broken, lights ripped from the ceiling, tatteres of colorful clothing abandoned where the wind left them along the broken glass. And as the unnatural wind died out, so did that wild, untamed part of him, as if only now it noticed what was raised in its wake. 

It was his doing. 

The fingers curled over your arm twitched as he realized the two men were in no shape to stand up and do any more harm. The body he felt was too warm for him, too real, and too quiet. 

A breath was shaken out of his throat as Loki forced himself to pry his fingers off you. You were fine, he made sure of that, even though he only finished what you started. You didn't need him so close. In fact, he wasn't sure if you needed him at all, and certainly not after what he'd just wreaked upon the place. 

The magic calmed and withered, backing off to rest over his struggling, suddenly heavy heart. The silence was unbearable. He didn't dare look at you yet, and he didn't want to admit the reasons for that. Didn't want to see the fear or disgust or maybe even betrayal on the face he came to—

Spilled drinks soaked into his trousers as Loki kneeled on the shattered glass, the music a distant, wounded screeching of dying electronics. Some of the lights had already given out by the time the club was emptied of all the people reasonable enough to run away. 

"Loki…?" 

He didn't raise his head, the dark curls painting his face in shadows. There was nothing now preventing him from leaving the planet, as he had intended to all those weeks ago, but—

Fingertips brushed over his clenched fist, brushing off a piece of glass stuck to his skin. There was a heartbreaking gentleness to the gesture and the swollen void in his chest tightened watching it. 

"Are you okay?" 

His lips twitched. That was the very last thing you should be worrying about at the moment. 

He let the all too familiar hands close over his cheeks, raising his eyes to meet yours at last, already resigned to watch as whatever had grown between you withered and faded away. 

He did not expect to see awe glowing in your eyes. Or the pure warmth and tenderness curving the corners of your mouth as you looked over him. You tucked his hair behind his ear, not letting go of him. 

"That was absolutely amazing!" you said, exhaling as tension seemed to lift off your shoulders and genuine, unfiltered joy took its place. 

That was not what he expected. He searched for a lie, for an uncertainty hidden in the shadows or a facade. But he couldn't find any. 

Relief washed over him, and all of the exhaustion that had been building up in him hit at once, sagging him further into the floor. He felt limp and boneless in ways unexplainable by words. Worry clouded your features at the sudden change and you shuffled closer, looking for any wound. 

"If you got stabbed and didn't even tell me…" 

"I'm fine. Really," Loki added when you didn't stop. "Just tired." He took your hand in his, stopping it in the tracks roaming over his chest as you searched for any blood or injury. His heart beat heavily under your touch, but not in an unpleasant way. There was a certain glint in your eyes that indicated you felt it too and you finally noticed how close you were, huddled in the middle of what used to be the dance floor. Space yawned around you, but you pressed closer as if constricted by tight walls. 

There were a lot of things noticed in those silent moments between you. Unfortunately, one of them was a certain individual sneaking his way behind your backs. 

Loki tore his eyes off you with visible effort. He knew that individual. 

"What would you say, love," he said. "To the prospect of finishing what we started?" 

"I'd say I like your ideas more with each passing day." You watched Marco fumble through the clothes of an unconscious guard, knocked down in the whirlwind next to the door he used to guard. 

Marco noticed the attention he received. His skin was ghostly pale already, bare from the colors that used to flash through the air. He had a pass in his hands and he ran to the only door left on that side of the club. The other one was behind your backs. 

Your legs were shaky as you finally got up, watching as the door opened and then closed behind Marco's back. 

"We need to find another pass," you said, looking to other guards. 

"We don't." 

Loki's stride was far from light, but he didn't hesitate as he neared the control panel that operated the door. You trailed behind him, the sprinkling of glass crunching under the soles of your shoes. 

Something shifted in Loki. He grasped the metal. 

It bent with the awful shriek of things bending the way they absolutely should not under normal circumstances. But the circumstances had very  recently changed, and now, with the power of a god, magic, and pure spite aiding you, some of your problems faded away. 

Loki bent in a deep, regał bow, presenting you the now open entrance. "After you, love." 

This? This you could get used to. 

You took his outstretched hand and dove into the unlit space crowded with dusty shelves and a foul smell hanging in the air. Loki snapped his fingers, and a light appeared over your heads, illuminating the full spectre of unquestionably illegal articles of a very questionable origin. 

"I really want to burn this place to the ground," you said.

"That can be arranged," Loki purred into your ear as more light flashed in the corners of the stock. "But I'm afraid some of the rats might decide to scatter off," he added as he watched Marco leap from between the shelves and into the narrow, steep stairs leading to the roof. Loki flickered his hand, casting sparks onto the nearest fabric.

"Good." 

He pursued, fingers entwined with yours. The flames engulfed the months of hoarded hideousness, burned with a hunger that could never be sated. 

The air was cold as the night's chill bit into your exposed, flushed skin. You almost sighed with relief. It felt like a blessing after the stifling club's interior. Snow started to fall again, silent as it brushed over the velvety night. 

"Let me go!" Marco screamed, perched on the distant corner of the roof, covered in a thick blanket of white. "Just get away!" 

"And why would we do that?" Loki mused, standing tall by your side. "You wanted to get to know us better, didn't you?" 

The sirens echoed through the streets as police neared the now obvious chaos beneath you. Shouts and calling could be heard already. 

Marco noticed that too, standing on the very edge of the roof. He glanced at the red and blue lights flashing over the nearby buildings. And then he looked at the old, rusty ladder leading all the way down to it. 

"Wow. We're officially worse than the cops," you laughed as the man disappeared over the edge. The urge to follow him vanished along with the sweaty mop of his hair. 

"That's an achievement worthy of such a night," Loki said, relishing the feeling of having you so close under a sky full of stars. His thumb circled your knuckles gently. 

"We should get business cards. I can already see it: 'Professional mischief, for an affordable price'. We could ruin people's days AND get paid for it." 

Loki laughed. He felt light and full of life and the night was still young as he led you into the middle of the roof. The sirens were close now, and it would take only minutes before officers crowded the building again, but for now, for those precious moments, you had it all to yourselves. 

"I like the sound of it," Loki said, gazing from the sky to you. There was a soft smile playing on his face, under the dust, sweat, and unexplainable flecks of glitter. "When will we get them?"

"We could place the order tomorrow. If, of course, you plan to stay for as long…?" 

The unfinished question reminded Loki of a certain detail. He looked at his now bare wrist, where the bracelet had shattered. The skin wasn't broken, but he still felt the memory of the impact in his flesh.

"Everything would be easier if you hated me," he said. 

"Easier doesn't always mean better." 

"I know you want to be nice, but—" 

"Loki, I can give you a 7-page long essay on why you deserve good things in life."

He chuckled. "Only 7?"

"I promise to use a small font. And if you insist, I can use some fancy words too, like ‘self-worth issues' or 'leniency'." 

"I'd be delighted to read that," he said and it was the truth. 

The night grew darker and his heart grew warmer every time he looked at you. 

And if it were possible, he'd let the night devour him whole if only he could marvel at you for the rest of eternity. 

Loki's thumb rested over your knuckles as he leaned closer, perfectly aware of how tight his throat was… 

And then, something very vital broke inside the building. 

You both froze with wide eyes as the whole construction quaked. Something cracked deep under your feet. And again. 

"Time to go," Loki said, his face inches from yours. You couldn't agree more - or maybe you would, if only you weren't suddenly lifted off the ground and thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

But, in all of its unexpectancy, that was not the bad part. 

That part came when Loki sprinted straight to the edge of the roof, with absolutely no intention of slowing down. 

Your nails dug deep into his back, and a curse, a prayer, and a promise simultaneously left your mouth, joined by an ear-shattering screech as Loki jumped off the roof. 

There was a strange moment when your mind refused to acknowledge the fact of what happened. After all, who wanted to watch themself splat into the ground from the top of a building? You wouldn't, that much was certain. And you didn't, which was surprising. 

The ground was a distant view that had no intention of getting closer. You twisted your head enough to see Loki effortlessly jump step by step through the thin air, casting some flickering lights beneath his feet with his free hand. He climbed higher, which was another great idea - there was no way people would miss such a sight. 

"You good?" he asked, a little breathless. 

"Perfect.” You focused on his wonderful backside. 

In the distance, the club building cracked open on one side. Flames cast a red aura over the place. There were more sirens now, and people rushing in all directions, tiny as ants. 

"I think we destroyed private property tonight." 

"I might've went a little too far, I think…?" Loki mused, his pace slowing down at last. In the gloom of the night, no one from the ground should be able to spot you so high up. 

"I hate you, and I love you, and your shoulder is doing things to my bladder that neither of us are going to appreciate in a moment, so how about we focus on that right now…?" 

Before you stopped rambling, he stopped in the middle of the sky, and shifted your weight so he could hold you to his chest. 

"Better?" he flashed a wicked smile, fully aware of every inch of your bodies touching. 

"My bladder sends thanks." 

"The pleasure is mine." 

For a few quiet seconds you watched as the flames rose high over the building. Loki wasn't happy with how far they reached already. With a silent command, he extinguished them, cutting off the magic sustaining the inferno. 

The night grew darker without their aura.

The snow drifted away on lazy gusts of wind. He felt you shiver and curl closer into him. And as much as he enjoyed the sensation, he needed to take you somewhere warm. 

"Let's go home, shall we?" 

"As long as you go with me." 

"Always, love."

*

A/N: Please tell me what do you think of the series so far!

[ask-anti-cosmo]

Anti-Cosmo X reader: my dear little pet

I inhaled deeply in joy as I sat in my comfortable chair in the castle I called home. It flouted firmly in the clouds above the magical world of the anti-fairies, as I was their king. If anyone even thought to defy me, I would be at their throats in an instant and let them know the misery that would bring them with a swing of my black starred wand.

I crossed my legs and sighed contently as I watched the fireplace in front of me spout dancing blue flames. I suddenly flinched when hearing my stomach growl, making me grin. “Oh…I guess I’m hungry…” I mused. “_______! Come here!” I called strongly.

I heard a slight whimper and footsteps run towards me before a young girl, about 17 years of age, came into the room, panting. Her clothing was plain and her hair a little messy.

“Y-yes…?” She asked catching her breath.

“Come sit on my lap.” I commanded. She lowered her head and obeyed slowly, making me grin. She sat down and I began to stroke and play with her hair happily.

She tried to get off and rush away but I held her still. “Ah ah ah~ Don’t forget you owe me. You’re MINE.” I hissed.

You lowered your head and began to remember it. Why you were here in this evil creature’s clutches. Every time you thought about it, it made you cry, partially since you wished it never happened, but also because it seemed so stupid…

~~~~~~

It was in the winter, when the sun was down before 6:00 PM. You were at your high school, rehearsing a play with the rest of the drama students. You weren’t a drama major, but you thought it’d be fun to be in at least one play.

And you were enjoying it, the drama kids were actually some of the coolest kids of the school, some even more loved than the jocks! The teachers certainly favored them more than the snooty cheerleaders and bullies on football teams.

Anyways, rehearsal was over and everyone was leaving out to the dark parking lot where their cars were. The teachers were mostly gone, same with the students as you packed up your stuff. Before heading off to your car however, you decided to use the bathroom since it was a half hour trip home.

When you were done, you walked out of the stall and was washing your hands when you heard the door open. Curious to who else would be there at that time of night, you looked over and felt your heart flutter slightly. It was Bryan, the star of the play you were in. Good looking, excellent actor, and…he was in the girl’s bathroom with you?

“Bryan…?” You blinked confusedly. “Um, this is the girls bathroom…”

“Is it?” He blinked and looked around. “Oh whoops, it’s so dark out there I got lost, they turned off most of the hallway lights.”

“Oh…well uh, I’d better get home.” You blushed lightly.

“Let me give you a ride home, it’s dangerous out there.” He offered.

“No, I have my own car, thank you though.” You nodded and tried to pass him, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back.

“What’s the rush?” He cocked his head to the side.

“It’s late and I have homework!” You frowned. “Let go!”

“I wanna hang out with you right now though! Come on, everyone will think you’re cool if you’re with me.” He grinned and he grabbed your other arm and pulled you closer to him.

“I don’t care about that sort of thing! Help!” You screamed as you struggled. Your foot stepped back and knocked something over that made a ‘Clink!’ sound, making both of you stop and look in confusion. To both of your great surprise, it was a glass salt shaker, filled to the brim and was now spilling it’s white contents onto the linoleum floor.

While Bryan was distracted, you kicked him where it hurts and escaped his grasp, running from the bathroom. The heavy door had slowed you down however, so he had quickly caught up with you in the dark halls, next to the glass door. Just outside the door was a light, making it a little easier to see the teenage boy’s angry face as he slapped you hard before reaching for your skirt.

You screamed for help again, praying someone, anyone would hear. That’s when you saw a pair of glowing green eyes appear in the dark, two glistening evil fangs accompanying them. Before Bryan could go any farther, blue hands shot from the dark, grabbing him tightly and yanking him into the shadows with them.

You could only stare in the dark in horror as you caught your breath and soon heard Bryan’s screams. Blood splattered at your feet, making you jump back as you sat on the cold floor.

Then it was silent.

You sat there, panting and pulling your skirt back up when you heard a sigh in the darkness.

“My my my…what a bind you were in just now, hmm?” an unrecognizable voice said in an elegant British accent. The glowing green eyes once again appeared. You heard the clicking of shoes against the school floor, and the thing that spoke walked into the light of the lamp outside.

He was about your height with blue skin and dark blue hair. The eyes were his, as were the white fangs, the former sporting a monocle on his right side. The monocle had a chain that lead to a piercing in one pointy blue elf ear, and the other ear sported a small dangly chain that had a black star at the end. He wore a somewhat old fashion blue garb, like a fancy coat and Victorian tie with silver chains reaching here and there. At the end of the coat was other little dangling jewelry, including black star cufflinks, but nothing as long as either earing. Black pants, and a blue bowler hat that sat atop his head like an ornament that was too small for any human head.

He grinned at you wickedly. “I seemed to have just saved you from that bind you were in, didn’t I? Doesn’t that at least merit a “thank you”?” He asked.

You tried to thank him but your voice hurt from screaming so you could only let out a whimper. At this, he frowned.

“My…not very grateful are we…?” He stepped close. You noticed a small twinkle in the darkness behind him, but you couldn’t make out what it was. “Well, nevertheless, I now own you, and I SERIOUSLY doubt you could ever repay me, so…I think I’ll just take you home with me~ Pay me back with company and… other services~” He grinned and licked his lips.

You shuddered and tried to scoot away from him. “H-how are you any better than Bryan then?!” You squeaked.

“Hmm? Oh no, I don’t mean that! Absolutely not, I am a gentleman!” He declared. “No no dear, I was something much more dignified than anything sexual.”

“Wh…what DO you want then…?” You asked softly.

He chuckled softly as black bat wings unfurled from behind him, the left one had a shiny silver ring close to the tip. “I thought it’d be obvious…”

~~~~~~~

I grinned as I licked your ear before biting into your neck, drinking your blood passionately, making you shiver. I had overheard her cries that night and decided to test her fate by placing the salt shaker nearby. If she tipped it, then she was fated to be with me, if not….well then, I wouldn’t have stepped in and we would be here! It would have been such a shame if it hadn’t happened, but oh what joy fate had such promise in store for me that glorious night!

I licked up the rest of her blood and sealed the wound with scar tissue, adding to the rest of the damaged skin on her neck. I grinned and felt all the scars I caused her.

“You’ve been locking yourself up in that room since you got here…how about I treat you to a tour?” I asked.

“Tour of what? Your messed up little world? What even are you anyways?” You scoffed at him.

“I’ve told you love, an Anti-Fairy!” I chimed.

“That doesn’t make any sense! I’ve never heard of such a thing!”

“How could it NOT make sense though? Everything has an opposite, else it wouldn’t be in existence, especially something as powerful as a fairy! We’re simply their opposites, the yang to their yin. Especially with them being immortal it would be hard to find an opposing power, now wouldn’t it? So for every fairy born, an Anti-fairy is born as well! To keep the balance of nature intact.”

You looked away with a sigh.

“So how about it? Want to go for a walk?”

“Not really…”

“Shame.” I chuckled and waved my wand at you. My wand became a leash attached to the newly appeared collar around her neck. “There you go~ Now come along!”

“But I don’t-ugh!” You huffed as I gave the leash a tug. You followed after me with a pout.

“Come now dear, this is for your own good.” I smiled. “Exercise releases endorphins that make you happier.”

“You WANT me to be happy?” You said in disbelief.

“I don’t want you to get fat from moping about the house like a sad puppy.” I snickered.

We walked around the dark anti-fairy world. Being out of the castle did make you feel a little better, even if you did have a collar around your neck. You passed a shop and looked through the window at a beautiful black gown.

“Do you like it?” I asked you.

You blushed lightly and looked away shyly. I stepped closer to you and brought your face closer to mine. “Well?” I grinned.

“Anti-Cosmo!”

I frowned and turned around to see one of the most annoying Anti-Fairies out there. Oddly enough, it’s just like his Fairy counterpart. Anti-Binky. Also known as one of the most fortunate of Anti-fairies, but also the most snippy and mean. He’s always competing against me, and it irritates me to no end since he really is my number two.

“What is it you want you festering boil?” I snarled.

“You have a human.” He sneered. “The *BEEP*’s the deal?!”

“It’s none of your business how I live my life!”

“You brought a wretched girl to our glorious gloomy world! Why would you do that?!”

You looked at us expectantly. I looked back at you and tapped you with my wand, sending you back to the castle. “It’s none of your business now is it?” I turned back to Anti-Binky.

“I’ve been watching you Anti-cosmo…Year after year you bring in these young girls…you keep them a bit then drink them dry. But this one…you’ve kept her two and a half years now! It’s ridiculous and meaningless!!”

“Shut up Anti-Binky! I can do whatever pleases me, and if I choose to keep this child then I will!”

“Listen here, I’ve been watching you long enough to know that whenever a human girl enters your castle, the only time they leave is when they’re a corpse. But look! You let that girl out for a walk! A WALK!!”

“She was on a leash.” I scoffed uncaringly, looking at my nails in uninterested.

“And just then you offered to buy her a dress!” He snarled

“Did not! I simply asked if she liked it…”

“But I bet you’ll get her it! Or have one made for her privately!”

I narrowed my eyes at him with a hint of anger. “What are you saying you pathetic sprite?”

“I think you’ve gone soft for this girl!” He accused. By this point Anti-Fairies had gather to watch our dispute, and when Anti-Binky said this, the crowd began to murmur, making me frown.

“Not true.” I stated boldly.

“Really?” He folded his arms.

“Her blood lost it’s flavor too fast, and I’m bringing her a little fortune so that I can make her even more miserable than she was before I collected her.” I lied. The crowd began to whisper again, but this time I hear praises of my genius, making me grin triumphantly at Anti-Binky.

Said Anti-Fairy scowled at me. “No, I still think you’ve gone soft. And I say your turn with the Anti-Fairy throne is over, and that I should now rule over!!”

My face drooped from the smile to a look of great disgust and disapproval. “You think you can beat me…?”

“I do and I can!”

I sighed with a slight chuckled. “Oh Anti-Binky, I do believe you’re the only one to dare share a personality attribute with your Fairy self~”

At my words, he looked more offended than I’ve ever seen him, and even the crowd gasped at me.

“You’re rebellious and annoying, and if you think you can defeat me, then you’re just as stupid as your fairy self as well!”

The Little Anti-Fairy flew into a rage and shot magic at me that I easily ricochet back at him, turning him to a block of ice. I swung my wand around with a grin. “You know dear Anti-Binky, if it wasn’t for your constant overflowing rage, I don’t think I’d notice if your fairy self and you switched for a day.” I snickered and looked to the crowd. “Let this be a lesson to all for you! Any who defines me or speaks ill towards me will receive the same fate, but worst with each offense. Now go about your business and remember who your king is!”

They all rushed away making me snicker. I then glanced back at the dress you were looking at and thought for a minute.

[din-djarin-lover]

Old Flame

din djarin x reader

warnings: just a ton of angst, language i think

word count: 924

*not my gif

side note or something: hi! ok so i literally just made this acct on a whim after spewing out 900 words worth of my sadness on my phone at midnight. i’m like 100% sure there are grammar mistakes and it’s definitely not formatted right, but i just really felt like posting this so. anyways, i’m probably not going to be very active here but it’s not like i plan on gaining very much traction from this tiny lil sad fic. there are a few things that don’t really make sense because i didn’t give background and tbh, i just didn’t know what said ‘background’ could be so i just left it that way. omfg i cant figure out how to add a cut in the text on mobile for the life of me so i’m so sorry to the people who just don’t wanna read this and it’s clogging up their feed. SORRY! um i honestly do not think this is very good but fuck it besides all that, ENJOY!

it's days like this where you thought of him most . days where almost everything reminded you of him. today it was exceptionally bad.

The festival of light was always one of your favorite celebrations, but this year you sit alone with a drink reminiscing about how you felt years ago. here in his arms. looking at that god forbidden helmet. maybe you were over romanticizing the moment, but stars, were you happy back then. he brought you back to your home planet just in time for the festival and maker you should’ve of known. you should’ve just said it. maybe you did, quietly under your breath just as the final fireworks went off. 3 words, 3 syllables it would’ve been so easy to just speak up.

forget it, that was a long time ago. it’s not like it matters any more it’s all in the past now. you should be happy now. on your home planet surrounded by people who love you on a day meant to be filled with joy. not being stupid and missing something you didn’t even deserve.

you stand up and look around searching for the gaze of a stranger who might be able to drown your sorrows for the night when the reflection of something undeniably shiny catches your eye.

and it’s like all the oxygen in your lungs is just gone. in that blink of an eye, a painfully familiar beskar helmet turns towards you. the reflection of fire is dancing over his armor. you stare into the black abyss of the t-shaped visor and suddenly it doesn’t feel so long ago that you were so fully in love with that mandalorian looking at you. the same one who shattered and broke your heart into a million pieces here on this very planet.

there he was, that man in the same set of armor that destroyed your fragile relationship. that stupid armor that separated you from the man you were so utterly in love with inside of it. the armor you tried to despise for so long but could never.

you would recognize the slight tilt of his helmet anywhere. and it all comes flooding back. all the memories you tried so hard to forget and leave in the past. every word he said to you that you told yourself you would forget. all of it.

and before your brain even registers the soft calling out of your name, your feet are whisking you out towards the nearest exit. but he’s always a step ahead. He was always like that, he always knew what your own next move was before you did.

you’re so carried away staring at your shoes trying to calm the tides and waves of emotions threatening to destroy you all over again, all the anger and hate you felt towards him, and all the sadness and regret you felt about how you were, that you didn’t realize he was standing right in front of the doorway into your apartment. for years you tried to tell yourself you were just young and stupid. you ignored the fact that you were barely hanging on anymore, but it’d been so long and you hadn’t truly gotten over it. you were just pushing and hoping one day all the painful emotions and memories would just disappear.

he stands broad as ever, towering over you. dammit, somewhere along the way you told yourself you wouldn’t get emotional but you’re already struggling to stop tears from springing to your eyes before he’s even said anything.

he softly says your name again and it brings you back. back to a time when you really thought you had finally found your home. a place you belonged, but you shoot your head up at him defiantly.

“don’t” and you hesitate before saying this because you know it will hurt him, “mandalorian”

not din, not mando, mandalorian.

he doesn’t visibly flinch, but you could feel it.

you hear a quiet intake of breath before he slowly drawls a quiet, “i’m sorry, maker i’m so sorry”

“for what? for making a decision about my own life for me? you didn’t even give me a choice, din” it wasn’t on purpose, the small addition of his name at the end of your phrase, but it felt natural. it slid off your tongue with ease just as it did all those years ago when he first told it to you.

“it was for the best”

you weren’t one to break down in front of other people, but here you stood in the middle of Theed holding back an outlash of all the unsaid words and feelings you still had for him.

“you shouldn’t have decided what was best for me”

“it never would’ve worked cyar’ika, and you know it”

you couldn’t stop the tears at this point because you knew, he was telling the truth.

“don’t you dare call me that. we didn’t even try din, you didn’t give us a chance. i lost everything when you left me here”

“you make it sound like i wanted to”

“we could have tried, we could’ve kept going. we could’ve done it”

“you were stretched so thin. it was killing you”

“leaving me here was what killed me”

he steps closer and his gloved hand reaches out to cup your cheek. everything in you tells you to flinch or resist, but all you do is melt into his touch.

you missed him so much.

[peteywillproceed]

Falling

Author’s Note: Hi guys! Whew, this was a journey! Over 6k words and I am exhausted! It’s been through like ten name changes and five rewrites and I still think it sucks ass but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! x

Summary: You made the mistake of falling for a guy. He broke your heart. Moving on was the easiest thing in the world - until it wasn’t.

Word Count: 6.2k

Your breathing was heavy, ragged as lips trailed across your skin and sucked bruises on your ribs. You gasped as his fingers trailed across your chest, gathering you in his arms when he crawled back up to your lips and crashed into you like a wave breaking against a shore.

You were happy.

So happy.

Your heart swelling with joy as he laced his hands in yours and whispered quiet promises against your lips.

You didn’t know if it was light or dark. Morning or night. All you knew was the fire flooding your veins and the electricity setting your nerves alight.

The ‘I love yous’ and the promises of forever.

And then it all came crashing down.

*three months later*

Lights blared bright in your eyes, music so loud it stung your ears. Your hands were sweaty, wrapped around a beer bottle you’d held for so long it was warm and frothy. But it was the only thing keeping you grounded as you tossed your hair on the dancefloor and moved through the crowd of writhing bodies.

“You know how much trouble we’re in, right?”

You swung around, arms in the air and sight tainted by the haze of vodka. “Stop being such a buzzkill Houdini! Twat isn’t back till Tuesday.”

“Houdini? That’s a new one,” Harry raised an eyebrow and ignored your swipe at his brother, eyeing you warily as you stumbled over his foot. “Maybe cool it with the shots now?”

You cackled, pink and blue strobe lights slicing through your best friend’s body as you twisted and curved in time to the music. “Maybe cool it with the mothering, Harriet.”

“I’m only mothering you because you threw an illegal party in my brother’s house.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, finally stopping dancing when he gave you the ‘I’m serious, you’re an idiot’ look he’d perfected the first time you’d thrown a party. Except that time, it had been in your own house, and not your secret ex…whatever’s.

“Come on, like goodie-two-shoes-Tommy is ever gonna know.”

“He might, Y/n,” Harry shrugged, widening his arms “how are you planning on hiding the fact that three hundred people trashed his house?”

“By not telling him. Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this,” you grinned, moving your hips and dragging him back onto the dance floor “for one night your brother isn’t breathing down your neck, enjoy it and live a little! We can figure the rest out in the morning.”

He started to protest, pushing against your hands, but you strengthened your grip and pulled him into the crowd, ignoring the grunts from the people nearby. You loved Harry, you really did, you’d grown up with his annoying-as-fuck tendency to be a tattle tale, put up with the refusal to go out on a school night for years, and until you’d gotten involved with Tom you’d never questioned it.

But one night was all it took for everything you thought you’d known about your best friend’s brother to be completely shattered. And since then? Well, you didn’t exactly give a shit someone had smashed his Rolex tonight.

“You realise you could just admit the break-up upset you, right?” Harry laughed as you forced him to move “you don’t need to go full on Wild Child instead of talking about your emotions.”

“It was one night, there wasn’t a break-up, and your brother can get fucked,” you replied a little too quickly, wishing you were talking about anything else.

“I’m just saying, there are healthier ways to deal with getting your heart broken than destroying his house.”

You snorted and took a sip of your beer, almost gagging at the staleness. “The bloke already hates me, what’s a little property damage between enemies?”

“About £50,000 worth of legal fees.”

“Wow, you’re really bringing the heat tonight, aren’t you Holland?” you smirked, widening your eyes “almost like you learned from the best.”

“Yeah, Sam’s really good at one-liners,” he grinned in reply, and you punched his shoulder playfully.

Suddenly, you felt eyes on you, the unmistakable sensation of someone looking you over. You spun in a circle, zeroing in on every distracted party goer until you found the bright blue eyes burrowing under your skin and making you burn all over.

Nudging Harry, you pointed over his shoulder and forced him to turn around. “Hey, who’s that?”

“Err…I think his name’s Josh?” he gave you a funny look, like he couldn’t quite figure out the sudden change of topic. “He’s one of Sam’s mates from catering.”

“Is he single?”

Harry sighed at your smirk, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Jesus, Y/n, why would I know? If you’re so determined to get over Tom, go snog him or something.”

“For your information,” you grinned, starting to back away through the crowd “I’m completely over the heathen, but if it takes me snogging a cute guy to prove that to you, I guess I won’t complain.”

Harry had all but disappeared by the time you finished your sentence, but you knew he’d heard you when his middle finger shot up from somewhere in the middle of the heaving mass of partygoers, and you chuckled to yourself. You needed a distraction tonight, anything to not have to think about Tom and the trail of broken hearts he’d left in his wake three months ago.

Turning around, you were fully prepared to go and find Josh and put this whole mess behind you, when you slammed into a chest so hard you would’ve fallen over if it wasn’t for strong arms pulling you back up.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean…” you trailed off, spotting the sandy blond hair and cocky smirk “actually, you know what? I totally did mean to do that.”

“Just like you totally meant to loudly shout your intentions to make out with me?” Josh raised an eyebrow, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks. Thank God for foundation.

“Obviously, how else would you have known?”

Before he could answer, you’d pulled him down to your height and slammed your lips against his, surprise jolting through your body when you realised he was actually a good kisser. You were just getting into it, letting your hands slide into his hair, when a loud shout brought the room to a standstill and silenced the music.

“What the FUCK is going on?”

You jerked away from Josh, you’d recognise that voice anywhere, and spun towards the kitchen table. Tom was on top of it, his face livid and full of thunder, his eyes searching the room for an explanation. “Well?”

You gulped, goosebumps erupting across your body as the realisation of what you’d done set in. But then you remembered, Tom wasn’t even meant to be back from filming for another three days - why the hell was he here?

“It’s just a party, man,” someone shouted from the crowd.

“Yes, I’m aware of what it is,” Tom replied drily, his eyes finally landing on you “and I know exactly who’s responsible for it.”

His words sent a chill down your spine, the eye contact more than you’d had in three months from him. It felt funny finally seeing him after all this time, like you’d found a missing piece to a puzzle you couldn’t finish, but the cold look he was giving you was barely any different to how you’d left him.

He was looking between you and Josh, his tongue pressed against his cheek, and for some inexplicable reason you felt guilty. Like you’d been caught doing something illegal instead of just exercising your right to kiss as many damn people you fancied.

Finally, Tom set his jaw and tore his eyes away from you, the loss leaving you empty.

His voice dropped dangerously. “All of you – get the fuck out of my house.”

***

A few days later, you were hanging your clothes out to dry when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pushed a peg into your mouth and dragged it out cack-handed, juggling the pile of washing and the box of clean clothes as you struggled to read the caller ID.

“Have you heard from him?” you asked earnestly into the phone, barely breathing as you waited for a response.

“Nice to talk to you too, cheery,” Harry grumbled, the sound of sleep clogging his voice.

“Are you seriously just waking up? It’s eleven o’clock!”

“Did you forget I was twenty-one yesterday?” he replied “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t in bed until six am.”

“Oh, right, yeah I saw those pictures.”

“Yeah so you’ll forgive me if I’m not completely awake yet.”

You ran a thumb over your lip, your eyes dropping to the pile of crinkled washing on the grass. You’d only meant to put it there for a second, but you’d forgotten how much it had rained last night and now the edges were stained with mud and your once clean bedsheets were stained green.

“Typical,” you muttered, trying to dust some of it off. Why did it always feel like this? Like when you were finally taking a step forward, something else was dragging you back two. It was only a minor thing, you could always just rewash them - but it wasn’t just the sheets, was it? Ever since…that night, you’d felt like you were walking through treacle, balancing on a knife’s edge you hadn’t seen before stepping into the unknown.

“What was that?” Harry asked, the sound of pots clanging in the background jerking you back to your conversation.

“Oh nothing, I just um, I just dropped some washing. Are you cooking?”

“Um…yeah, sure that sounds good – oh, Tom, hey.” Your best friend’s tone suddenly flipped like a switch, the audible gulp ringing through the handset. You barely had time to wonder why he was acting so cagey about cooking when a rugged voice began muttering in the background. You froze, your grip on your basket loosening as you stepped through the door.

You could barely hear what they were saying, but then Harry’s voice reappeared on the other end of the receiver, a slight nervous wobble creeping in. “Hey, err Y/n?”

“Yeah?” you replied, shaking off your shock and beginning to throw the ruined sheets back into the wash.

“Tom wants to talk to you.”

“Well tell him that-”

“He’s not an owl, Y/n,” Tom cut you off. “He doesn’t have to pass messages back and forth.”

Heat rose in your cheeks, frustration flowing through your veins as you balled your hands into fists and raked them through your hair. Somehow his voice was even more annoying than before. “Don’t quote Harry Potter at me, Thomas, especially when you’re just as guilty of doing it.”

“Doing what, exactly? You’re the one that trashed my house.”

“Passing messages through Harry! You didn’t exactly have the balls to tell me yourself you were running off to Colorado for three months.”

“Because you blocked my number!”

You sighed, eyes flicking towards the timer on the washing machine. It was true you’d blocked Tom’s number, but three months ago you’d been lying in his bed talking about how you felt and finally, finally admitting everything you’d kept bottled up since you were fourteen.

And then the next day he’d told you it was a mistake.

Went running off to America like a coward.

Leaving Harry to pick up the pieces and you to realise that everything you thought you could’ve had was pure fantasy.

So yes, you’d blocked his number. But it wasn’t like you hadn’t had a reason, and he had to know that. There was no way he could be that thick.

“What do you want, Tom?” you said at last, leaning against the machines. Maybe if you just let him say what he had to say this would all be over and you could go back to not giving a fuck.

Suddenly, the line clicked and the monotonous hum of the phone shutting down rang in your ear.

“What the…?” you trailed off, pulling the phone away from your ear to stare at it in shock. Had he…just called you…to argue with you…and then hung up on you?

Beside you, the door began to creak open and you jumped into the air, your phone flying across the room and landing face up on the tiles. You swore under your breath, bending down to retrieve it just as you felt someone else step into the room behind you.

“Sorry, I’ll just be a- Tom? Your mouth fell open at the sight of the boy stood in front of you, the brown curls you’d run your hands through only months ago gone, the light you’d known in his eyes dead and scattered amongst the ashes.

“I think we need to talk,” he said slowly, holding his hands up as if you were going to shoot him “about everything.”

Your mouth began to move, words flying around in your brain, but no sound came out as you struggled to piece together any semblance of thought. “What are you doing here?”

“I just…after the other night I figured we needed to talk. Properly talk.” He reached for your hand but you snatched it away, your heart beating loudly in your ears.

“Y/n, I know…I know what I did was shitty. But I just need you to hear me out.”

You scoffed, backing away from him until you were pressed against the garden door. “You think now’s a good time for this?”

“I think the best time was three months ago when you were next to me in bed,” he bit his lip, and this time you looked at him. Like, really looked at him.

His jeans were stained in all manner of dodgy areas, his shirt the old Tesco one you’d got him as a joke for his birthday. He had huge, purple bags beneath his eyes, and his socks were two different colours, like he’d been in such a rush he’d forgotten to check; you didn’t even bother to ask about the crocs.

“Well,” you whispered, letting out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “At least you finally realised that.”

He nodded earnestly, moving towards you and freezing when you threw up your hand to stop him. “I did. Oh God, I did. I spent three months feeling like the shittest person in the world and I didn’t know how to call you to explain.”

“So you thought you’d accost me in my laundry room?”

“It…wasn’t my best plan. But you didn’t exactly make it easy for me to contact you.”

Your mouth fell open, your hand flying to your chest. “Watch it, Holland, or I might think you just tried to blame me for this whole mess.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, it sure as hell sounded like that was what you meant!” He flinched as you raised your voice and your arms, but you didn’t feel sorry for it. You’d spent months feeling like a complete idiot, wishing you’d never even told him how you felt. And here he was, trying you blame you for the mess he caused. “So tell me, Tom, just what exactly you think you’re doing here.

“I came to apologise-”

“That’s a good start.”

“And to say that I meant what I said…y’know, before I left.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the door frame with your arms crossed. Tom was halfway across the room now, his hands curled in front of him as he swiped them on his jeans. He was biting his lip, the glasses he didn’t need halfway down the bridge of his nose and it took every inch of you not to break and run to him, fall into the arms you knew so well and forget it had all happened.

You knew what it was like, the vanilla and the cinnamon that would waft up your nose and remind you that you were home. The strength of the arms that would ground you and hold you to Earth. It was so tempting, so inviting to just go back - but where would that get you?

No, going back wasn’t an option anymore. There was only forwards, where the path behind you was well trodden and full of tears.

“That’s nice,” you said at last, shaking your head. “But you can’t really expect me to believe you.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping when he realised you weren’t giving in. You wondered if he knew how deep he’d cut you, what those words had meant to you and how you’d felt when he’d snatched them away. You wondered if Harry had told him everything that happened over the next few months, how you’d almost broken and yet from the outside you looked happier than ever. You almost hoped he knew how you’d bounced back. How you were fine now.

Or at least, how you pretended to be fine.

“Maybe this isn’t the best place to do this,” he cast an eye round the room warily, and your skin bristled when his gaze finally landed on you. “Can we go up to your place?”

“Absolutely not.”

The words were out of your mouth before you could think, shocking yourself more than you shocked Tom.

“Well…will you come to mine?”

“Sure, if I need to see Harry,” you responded as the washing machine pinged “is there anything else? My laundry’s done.”

“Y/n, we need to talk about this,” he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper “you can’t just ignore me.”

You fixed him with a look, throwing the clean sheets into your basket with more force than necessary and walking towards him. You were so close you could smell his aftershave, different from his normal, more minty than you would have liked. You could see every hair, every line on his face, but it was the look in his eyes that broke you, the sadness that you’d felt for so many months hovering just within him too.

“No, Tom, we don’t,” your voice broke and fresh hot tears began to stream down your face. “The time for talking about it was before you left for Colorado. Now…now’s the time for me to move on, because you broke my heart Tom, you broke it.”

You were full on sobbing now, choking on your words as you spluttered through them. “You smashed it into so many pieces that I couldn’t find them all. And now you’re trying to smash it again, but I won’t allow it. I won’t allow you to take anymore of my heart than you already have.”

“I didn’t-”

“I don’t care Tom!” you screamed, but he barely flinched. You threw the basket down so hard it bounced on the floor and spilt the sheets again. “You had all that time to find out, all that time to do something about it, and you didn’t! So you’ll have to forgive me when I say I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“So that’s it then? Everything you said all those nights ago means nothing any more?” his voice was filled with a pain that cut you to the core, the wobble in his throat making your heart ache more than you expected.

“It means everything, and that’s the problem,” you sniffed, dropping your head to the floor.

You felt Tom draw closer, his body so close to yours that you could feel his heat. He lifted his fingers to your chin, catching your jaw and raising your head so your eyes met his.

“Why does it have to be a problem?”

You paused, almost not saying it. “Because I can’t let you break me again.”

He nodded, backing away, his fingers leaving your chin and you felt empty from the loss. “I’m sorry.”

It was barely a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear but not quite deep enough for it to mean anything. He turned and started walking away, pausing at the door to look back at you. He opened his mouth to say something, his bottom lip wobbling, but he shut it again before any words came out.

Then he disappeared and let the door bang shut behind him.

Relief flooded your body, seeping through every crack in your bones and every fragment of your heart. You were done with the excuses, the comments, the desperate pleas from Harry that his brother was an idiot and too caught up with work to realise what he’d done wrong. You were busy too, but that hadn’t ever made you spew a bunch of crap about loving someone since you’d seen them in the lunch room. It had never made you fill somebody’s heart with hope only to crush it in the morning with just a few simple words and excuses blamed on alcohol.

The final click of the lock was enough to make you slide against the door. Sink down to the floor. Bury your head in your hands.

It was relief, that was what it was. That was what you had to tell yourself. So you could get back up again and walk back to your flat and make everything okay again.

It wasn’t sadness.

It couldn’t ever feel like sadness.

So why did it feel like it was?

***

“Are you sure you want to go tonight?” Harry asked as he watched you smudge your lips with red. “Nobody will notice if you’re not there.”

You rolled your eyes at the dramatics, capping the lipstick tube with a satisfying click and spinning on your heel. “Oh please, it’s a party – we’re not storming off to war.”

“Yeah but it’s…Tom’s party.”

“And last I checked we weren’t exactly on speaking terms,” you shrugged, grabbing your bag from your bed. “He’s not likely to come anywhere near me, there’s going to be hundreds of people there.”

Harry shook his head and pushed himself off the door frame, fixing you with the look you were tired of getting. It had been two weeks since Tom had come to your flat and you were still nowhere near over it; not that you’d ever admit it, but you’d never been over it in the first place.

When Harry had mentioned that Tom was throwing a party to celebrate the release of his new movie, your immediate reaction had been words you couldn’t repeat in front of a three year old. But then he’d turned on the puppy dog eyes and you were suddenly feeling bad about making him go it alone.

“You could make friends with a plant pot, what do you need me there for?” you’d asked.

“Yeaaahhhh, but who’s going to stop me falling face first into that plant pot when I’m pissed?” Harry had replied, grinning at your annoyed face.

“Fine, but I’m drinking the first thing in sight and you’re keeping Tom away from me.”

“What is it with you two? You spend half your time acting like you hate each other. Wouldn’t it just be easier to, I don’t know, suck it up and get together already?” Harry interrupted your thoughts, jerking you back to reality with a flick of his wrist.

You snorted. “We tried that, didn’t exactly work that well.”

“Well it might work a lot better if you actually talked to the guy.”

“Damn it Harry,” you slammed your palm against the door. “I don’t want to talk to someone who told me he loved me and then ran three thousand miles away the next day!”

You could feel the sob building up in your chest, the one you’d buried so deep you’d forgotten it was even there. The walls seemed to tilt towards you as you stumbled into the hall, barely noticing as you slid against the kitchen door frame and forced air into your lungs. God you didn’t want to talk about this, not now when everything you’d done to bury this had worked so well.

“But you do want to talk to Tom! Maybe not the guy that broke your heart, but the guy you’ve been in love with since we were fourteen,” Harry said, exasperated. “You’re going around pretending like you’re over him, like you haven’t thought about him in months. But you threw that party for the same reason you kissed that bloke for, and you know it!”

“Are we seriously fighting over your brother right now? Are you back to being the damn messenger, because I can’t…I can’t keep…” tears were spilling over your cheeks, searing your eyes and stinging the familiar patches of skin that had been stained with the same tears only a few months ago. You tried to breathe, tried to refocus your mind but the world was swimming and you could hardly see anymore through the blurry glass of your tears.

Before you could think, Harry had pulled you into his arms and smothered you against his chest, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. “Sod the party, let’s just watch a movie and get some pizza.”

“No, no, I want to go,” you mumbled against his chest “I need this…I think. Just to see him and know that it’s all done, so I can move on and forget it ever happened.”

“Fuck that, Y/n, let’s just stay here.”

“Please? I really need this.”

Harry pushed you back gently, running a finger under your mascara stained eyes as he took a deep breath. You could see the indecision, the uncertainty at letting you step into the unknown written across his face. In this moment, it was you or his brother, and you hoped to God it was the latter. “This is the last time?”

“The last time,” you promised.

“Well,” he sighed, checking his watch, the long moment fading and passing into the night “I guess we have a party to get to.”

***

When you pulled up to Tom’s house, the lights were out and the curtains were drawn. You threw Harry a look, surprised that there was nobody spilling out of the doors and no music shaking the walls, but he didn’t seem to notice it.

“Err, where is everybody?” you asked, peering out of the window for signs of life.

“Haven’t the faintest,” Harry replied, pulling the handbrake on and reaching over you to open the door. “Do you wanna go in and I’ll catch up? I need to sort something quickly.”

You rolled your eyes and gathered your things from the backseat, feeling uneasy about the lack of people. “I can’t believe you’re sending me in there alone.”

“It’s just for five minutes, you’ll survive.”

“Or maybe I won’t and you’ll be reading my eulogy.”

“I look forward to it,” Harry smirked “I can finally tell people how nasty you are.”

You punched him in the shoulder and stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath before starting towards the house. You felt stupid in the heels, the red lipstick suddenly feeling to garish and over the top.

You rolled your shoulders and set your jaw, running a hand nervously through your hair whilst the other clung tightly to your bag. The clack of your shoes against Tom’s gravel set your teeth on edge, and on impulse you reached down and pulled them off, enjoying the bite of the winter air against your hot feet.

By the time you reached the door, your confusion had only grown, because the house was completely silent and there were certainly no signs of a party. You spun around to find Harry and demand that he take you home, because it was nine o’clock, there was obviously no party, and you weren’t facing Tom alone.

Except his car was gone.

You bit your lip in surprise, looking up and down the street in case he’d just moved the car to park it somewhere safer. But he was nowhere to be seen - the road was empty save for a man running to his van at the bottom. You rolled your eyes and reached for your phone, realising the guy was taking the piss and figuring that if you called him before you saw him again you might not actually murder him.

But your phone was gone and come to think of it Harry hadn’t even been dressed for a party. What the hell was going on?

You debated knocking on another house’s door and asking to borrow the phone, call for a cab and just go home. But it was late and you felt bad about disturbing people that were probably sleeping, all because your best friend was an arsehole and you were too much of a coward to knock on Tom’s door. At last, you gave in and walked back up the drive, pausing at the front door and bracing yourself to see him.

How the hell were you going to explain it? “Oh sorry Tom, no I didn’t actually mean to come here, Harry just thought it would be funny to play a prank and don’t worry I’ll kill him myself the next time I see him.”

At least you looked nice, you thought, raising your hand to knock. At least he wouldn’t think you were ugly and a bitch.

As you moved your hand towards the door, it suddenly swung inwards, the hallway dark and unlit. You gasped, stumbling backwards, peering fearfully into the house in case some burglar was about to come running straight past you. But as your eyes began adjusting to the light, you noticed something strange about the floor.

It was covered in rose petals.

“Tom?” you called out nervously, stepping into the house. “Tom? It’s Y/n. Your front door is open…?”

You moved deeper into the house, quietly closing the door behind you so you didn’t wake him if he was sleeping. Keeping your hands against the wall in case you slipped, you made your way down the hall, noticing a soft glow coming from the kitchen. You paused when you reached the doorway, wondering if you should’ve grabbed your keys or a weapon in case there really was a burglar in here.

But at the last second, you lost your footing and stumbled through the doorway, falling into the kitchen with a soft thud and gasp.

It took a second for you to process it all, but when you finally did you almost felt your heart stop. Fairy lights glittered over every inch of the wall, the floor here too covered with rose petals and flowers. The kitchen table, bowing in the middle just like everything else Tom had made on that bloody wood work course, was covered in a cloth, two plates and a single candle decorating the surface. You stared transfixed at the setup, your mouth falling open in shock.

And then Tom appeared.

Clutching the biggest bouquet of daisies you’d ever seen in your life.

“You like it?” he whispered “I know daisies are your favourite.”

“What…what is all this?” you breathed, still gobsmacked by the softly glowing room.

Tom smiled, moving closer to you and setting the flowers on the table. “A really over the top apology.”

“This is for me?”

“Obviously, dummy,” he laughed, flinching when you smacked his arm. “Hey! I spent money on these flowers, I’ll have you know!”

“And what a dreadful waste, Holland, don’t you care about our environment?” You were joking but your breath was still caught, your brain trying to play catch up as the scene played in front of you, like you were watching this all happen to someone else. Someone luckier.

“I care more about you,” he replied, and somehow he was even closer than before. “I care more about you than anything else in my life. And I couldn’t quite figure out how to explain that three months ago.”

“And you know now?”

He nodded, pulling you towards him. “I think I do, yes.”

“Then say it.”

His lips parted, his eyes caught on yours as he reached to cup your cheek. A waft of his aftershave made its way towards you, the mintiness of before replaced with the warm vanilla you remembered so well. The glasses were gone and he was wearing the burgundy suit you’d had too many dreams about to remember. 

But in that moment, none of that mattered. 

All you could think about in that moment was the way he was staring at you.

Like you were the most precious thing on Earth.

“Three months ago I told you how I wanted to spend forever with you, how you’re all I’ve thought about for years. How you consume every part of me, spend your days dancing in my mind and reminding me of everything we could have. But what I didn’t tell you was why.

“Because I didn’t know. I didn’t know why it is that I love you so much, and that’s what scared me – the fact that I could feel something so deeply for you and have no rational explanation for it. So I thought the logical thing was that the feelings weren’t real and they weren’t that powerful, that if I tried to move on then we’d eventually forget and nothing would be lost.

“Those months away from you were torture, not knowing how badly you were hurting and why you’d blocked my number. I didn’t realise how much of an ass I was until Harry flew out to America and practically beat down my door.”

“Harry went to America?” you interrupted him “when?”

Tom smiled, his thumb rubbing your cheek in slow circles. “That weekend you thought he had that photography competition. He flew out to kick my ass and ask what the hell happened.”

“I wondered how he knew so much,” you chuckled quietly “it was like he came back from that weekend and he knew exactly what to say.”

“Because that’s Harry, he always knows exactly what to do,” Tom shrugged.

“Tonight was his idea, wasn’t it?” you grinned, watching as he blushed fuchsia.

“Well, the idea was. But I take full credit for putting it together!”

You laughed at his face, the crinkles in his smile and the dimples in his cheeks so familiar you could have drawn them blindfolded. You reached up to trace them, still not quite believing this was real, when just two weeks ago you thought he’d left that laundry room and walked out of your life forever.

“Hey Tom?” you murmured, wrapping your fingers around his. “Two weeks ago when you came to see me…how did you get there?”

He frowned and looked at you like you’d gone insane. “Harry dropped me.”

“So he wasn’t cooking?”

“If Harry was cooking the fire brigade would’ve been called.”

You giggled, knowing it was true. He’d tried to cook pancakes for you last year and you’d had to throw out the pan because you couldn’t scrape it off.

“Why would you think he was?” Tom asked, smiling softly in the dim light.

“Well, it sounded like there were pans clanging in the background,” you said “I just figured he was making breakfast.”

“I told him to say that,” Tom admitted, his cheeks still red “I actually bought you a present back from Colorado but I broke it in the car.”

“You never were very careful, were you Tommy?” you smiled, reaching up instinctively to brush his curls behind his ears. When all your fingers found was stubble, your hand settled in the curve of his neck, cupping his cheek as you tried to find the words to explain what would happen next.

“All I know is that you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time,” he replied, not taking his eyes off you “and if getting you back took Harry lying about making breakfast? Then I’m not going to complain. I don’t want to waste another second that I could be spending on you.”

You laughed, nestling your head into the crook of his neck as he drew you closer. Vanilla overwhelmed your senses as you sank into his familiarity, overcome by the sweetness and homeliness. You’d had so many questions, and so little time to ask them, but after it all there was still just one that remained answered.

“Why me?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes “why me when you could have literally anyone else?”

“I-” he stopped himself, stumbling over the knee-jerk reaction as he took a deep breath. “Because there’s never been anyone but you.”

“And this is real?” you whispered, feeling the unknown stretch in front of you as your heart skipped a beat. “Because if you say it is, that you want this, I can’t go back again. I’ll be jumping without a parachute.”

Tom smiled, tilting his head to the side. He caught your gaze, his hands wandering to your waist and pulling you closer whilst your heart beat faster than it ever had before. You held your breath as he leant forward, catching your lips with his.

The moment they touched was like he’d lit a bonfire inside you; your skin burned and your lungs filled with the smoke. You could hardly breathe, feeling your nerves spark alight and race with electricity, every touch bringing you closer to how you’d been three months ago. Memories of that night danced across your vision, playing like a record you’d longed to open – every kiss, every touch, every whisper on replay in front of you.

At last, he pulled away, taking the fire with him while electricity crackled in your veins.

“Then I guess, darling,” he whispered, hushed under his breath “I’ll simply have to catch you.”

 taglist:

@zabdisamor @jinxfanfics @jillanaholland @enjoymyloves @ihopethatwemeetinanotherlife @averyfosterthoughts @ziggyspurplehaze

[yayeetsonny]

Stuck with you~Lindsey Horan x Reader

Prompt: Lindsey and Fem reader are quarantined together. Lots of cuteness and fluff ensue. Enjoy!

Requested by: @kweens14​

Lindsey PRO//

These last 3 months in quarantine have been pretty hard, not being able to play soccer or hang out with my friends is killing me. But there is one person that is making everything better, and that’s my girlfriend Y/N L/N. She is the sweetest, most understanding person I have ever met. And what’s even better is that she also has a crazy, goofy personality to match mine, we have all these little inside jokes and nicknames for each other and she is the only person who can make me laugh 24/7. We also have a mutual understanding and deep respect for each other’s careers and everything we work hard to achieve. 

Sure the first few weeks quarantined together in our apartment in Portland were challenging but now we have an understanding of when the other needs space or alone time. More often than not however we find ourselves doing almost everything together. We wake up at the same time and we eat breakfast together every morning before going on a walk with Ferguson. We also work out and train together at least twice a week but when we’re not doing that we can be found snuggling on the couch binge watching the latest Netflix shoe or movies that we both love. 

Y/N had gone to take a nap but asked me to wake her up when I had returned with lunch. I did my best to not make too much noise as I entered our room. Seeing her laying in bed with a content look on her face and more relaxed then I’ve ever seen I just had to take a picture before I woke her. That’s gonna be my new lock screen. I approached the bed softly and then leaned down and gently shook her awake.

“Wake up sunshine, lunch is here.”

“Hi” She said sleepily 

“Hi lovely, I got your favorite from that bistro around the corner.”

She sat up, stretched and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes before pulling my head down to give me a gentle kiss on the lips. 

“Thank you for going to get food, my hero.” She said, giggling softly

“Always at your service m’lady.” 

I tipped the imaginary hat on my head and took her hand, kissing it before busting into giggles myself. Y/N got up and followed me to the kitchen table where our food sat and after opening everything we sat down to eat. 

We ate and talked about our days and how we were feeling, we always made sure to check in with on another on a daily basis to make sure we were still in a good place. On the days we struggled we did our best to be there for each other or give each other space depending on what was wanted. 

We started to goof around at the table, putting chopsticks in our noses or taking noodles and turning them into a mustache. We were laughing so hard that it made the water I tried to drink come right back out, through my nose. It hurt a lot but seeing the look of pure joy on Y/N’s face and hearing her wonderful laugh was enough to make me want to do it again.

“Babe, be careful! You know that’s what happens when you laugh and try to drink water.” She giggled.

“I know, I did that on purpose to make you laugh.”

“Mhm, sure you did.”

“It’s true!”

We started laughing all over again and even though I had more water come out my nose it was totally worth it. After we finished eating we decided to take a walk with Ferguson to get out of the house. After putting his little harness on and racing him to the elevator we made our way down to the lobby of the apartment complex and made our way outside. We walked hand in hand for over an hour, just taking in the fresh air and admiring  all the little birds, squirrels and bunnies we saw along the way. 

Y/N PRO//

Lindsey and I were taking our daily walk with Ferguson and I couldn’t help but spend my time admiring Lindsey instead of paying attention to everything else around us. She was captivating to me, the way her eyes sparkled when she Ferguson did something silly or when she saw a really beautiful bush of flowers. Or the way her eyes crinkled when she was smiling super big, or that, that same smile always reached her eyes when she looked at me. Her laugh is something I want to hear all the time, it makes my heart swell with joy whenever I hear it, and being the one to make her laugh is one of my favorite things in the world. 

While we walked she intertwined our fingers and held my hand firmly in hers. I love when she rubs her thumb gently over my knuckles or squeezed my hand three times as a way to say “I love you.” I was so lost in thought about her that I didn’t realize she was trying to get my attention.

“Y/N? Hey.”

She squeezed my hand and I finally made eye contact with her as she smiled softly at me.

“Hi.”

“Hi love, what’re you thinking about?”

“You.” I answered without a second thought.

“Oh, really? You are?”

“Yeah I am.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m madly in love with you.”

“Oh really? Well you should know I’m in love with someone too.”

“Oh? And who might this mystery person be?” I asked, playing along.

“You might know her actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah she’s got this amazing Y/C/H hair these beautiful Y/C/E eyes that I could get lost in forever, the brightest smile I’ve ever seen, and she also has a kick ass personality. I’m madly in love with her because when I’m with her she makes me feel alive, and like I can do anything. She was my first kiss, she was my date to the senior prom, she taught me how to dance. I’m my best self when I’m with her.”

When she finished talking she was looking at me with so much love in her eyes, that I teared up. Remembering how far we’ve come since we met when we were sophomore’s in high school and how much we’ve grown together in that time made me certain now more than ever that she was the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. 

“I love you more than I will ever be able to comprehend. You are the love of my life.” I said, letting go of her hand and turning to kiss her while placing my hands on her cheeks. She kissed me back with just as much love as I had and we kissed for what felt like an eternity but was really just a couple of minutes. 

“I love you to the moon and back, always.” She said when I finally let us come up for air. 

After that we started walking back the way we came in comfortable silence and when we returned to the apartment and let Ferguson in to get some water we decided to head to our room to change and lay down together.

“You tired, babe?” I asked

“Yeah, but that was a good walk. You are good company.”

I giggled and agreed with her statement and then we both agreed that we should nap for a little bit to renew some of our energy. She wanted to be the big spoon so we shifted so that my back was to her front and she wrapped her arms around me protectively and I took to intertwining my fingers with hers and blowing on them just to mess with her. 

“Y/N… Sleep now, mess around later.” She mumbled as she was already drifting off. 

I felt her breath even out and knew that she had fallen asleep and I followed not soon after.

Several Hours Later…

I woke up to find that the bed was empty and Lindsey was nowhere to be found. I looked at the clock and saw that it was already… 5 pm. I really took a 4 hour nap?! I got up in search of my girlfriend and found her playing with Ferguson in the living room. She was attempting to teach him how to dribbling a soccer ball. I smiled softly as I watched them play, wondering if we may one day have a little human running around learning how to dribble.

“Come on Fergs! You can do it! Mommy believes in you!” She cheered him on

When he finally made it back to her with the ball she cheered wildly and praised him for what he had done.

“Good job buddy!”

“You’re the best teacher.” I said, deciding to make my presence known

“Hi sunshine! I didn’t know you were up. How long have you been there?”

“Oh, just long enough to see you teaching our son how to kick a soccer ball.”

She got up of the floor, making her way over to me she wrapped me up in her arms and kissed me on the forehead before hugging my head to her chest and rocking us back and forth.

“You ready to start making dinner, love?” 

“Yeah, what do you want to make?”

“How about that dish you love, umm… what’s it called again?”

“Y/F/D.”

“Oh yeah that! What do you say?”

“Let’s do it.”

We set out to get all the ingredients from the fridge and pantry and when we had it all gathered we started on the dish. Half way though it was time to feed Ferguson so I fed him and left Lindsey to continue cooking. When I came back she was ready to put it in the oven. Once it was in we just had to sit and wait for it to be done, which to us felt like an extremely long time but wasn’t at all. I got restless sitting and waiting for it to be done so I told Lindsey I was going to shower and excused myself to do that.

Little did I know however, that as soon as I left Lindsey started working on something she had been planning for us.

When I returned to the living room, freshly showered I was shocked to find that the couch and table had been moved and in their place stood a beautifully made fort, that had been made out of blankets, pillows and other objects to make it stand tall. hung above it was some white Christmas tree lights and the lights in the kitchen and surrounding area had been turned off so you could see them better. 

“Hi, sunshine.”

“Lindsey… this is beautiful. How did you?… When did you?… Did you do this for me?”

“Well when you went to take a shower I saw the perfect opportunity to pull this off and luckily with your music turned up you weren’t able to hear me moving around. I thought I’d treat you to a romantic.. fort dinner.” She stumbled, looking slightly worried that I didn’t like it.

“It’s perfect, I love it. Thank you.”

“Oh! And don’t worry I didn’t let the food burn.” She said, reminding me of what I had been impatiently waiting for.

“Oh, good! I’m starving.” I said giggling.

“I know, me too.”

She went to serve us both and handed me my plate, I followed her to the fort and was trying to find a way to get settled without spilling food everywhere. I was so busy trying to figure it out that Lindsey had to catch my plate when it slipped out of my hand. I sat down on one of the pillows and looked at her sheepishly.

“Wow, my hero.”

“Always at your service m’lady.” 

“What would I do without you?” I said dramatically.

“I’m sure you would be just fine, but I am always happy to be of service.” She giggled while kissing my hand.

“Hey babe?” I asked part way through the meal.

“Yeah, Y/N?”

“You know how these last few months have been hard, and how being in the house all day drives us crazy?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, as hard as it is, I’m glad I’m with you.”

“You know you’re stuck with me, right? There’s no take-backzees.”

“There’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with.”

// 

THE END

Hey ya’ll! This was not based off of Ariana’s Grande’s new song with Justin Bieber, I just thought of the title and well this was born lol. Sorry for any mistakes.

- N