#I’m scared for what I will do on holiday break

[bokutosbabe]

It Always Leads To You

( bllk boys as situationships )

a/n — girl whose never had a situationship writing about them? what could go wrong? (they progressively get longer lol)

content — some nsfw but not explicit, pining, GN! reader, some characters repeated, all characters are 18 or 18+

synopsis — what kind of situationship the bllk boys would be

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' and the heart i'm breaking is my own ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' but you're best friends! '

you'd rather spend money on a hotel than stay at home 24/7 for the next week. how could you walk into your house when you knew he'd be there, chatting with you family as if nothing had changed?

maybe you should've pretended you had to work.

that would have saved you the grief of having to see, who was supposed to be, your best friend. how could you face him when the last thing you two talked about was being a couple and that...not going as planned.

well, maybe that wasn't the last thing you two talked about with each other. however, does defiling your families bathroom really count as 'talking'? ( most awkward easter ever afterwards ) you didn't really think so.

whatever, he was a pro-soccer player now, he may not even be at home this christmas. you'd just have to put up with his family, who you'd always loved, and then you could go home and avoid the situation until the next big holiday.

but of course, when you stepped into your childhood home you realized that you'd never get that lucky. there he was, just as handsome as ever, sitting on your families couch.

in your eyes, he looked like he belonged with your family more than you, but you supposed he earned that. he came home every holiday, unlike you who continuously came up with different reasons to stay as far away as possible.

if you left now, maybe no one would know you'd even shown up-

" woah, y/n! it's you! " or...maybe not. " i haven't seen you in forever, what have you been up to? " the voice that plagued your every waking thought crashed its way into your ears.

your best friend ( could you even call him that anymore? were you still his best friend? ) got up from his spot on the couch to come wrap his arms around you in a hug that felt more like home than home did.

" i've missed you, ya know? " he whispered in your ear, hands caressing your back in what felt like much more than what a 'friends' hug would be.

just a week. you could survive and coexist with him for a week. your resolve to never sleep with him set in stone now.

you just wished your resolve wouldn't have crumbled only two days later while your family was downstairs watching christmas movies.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, AIKU OLIVER, rensuke kunigami, TOBITO KARASU

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the ' you cannot date them '

you’re a good person... or at least, you want to believe that. But how can you when your best friend sits in front of you now, talking about their ex?

she’s raving about how much she misses him, how everything fell apart at the worst time, how she’s still holding onto the hope that maybe they can fix things.

you try to smile and nod, pretending that you’re not dying inside. how can you even look her in the eye when he’s blowing up your phone right now? when you know exactly how he feels about you?

“it’s just so messed up, right?” she laughs nervously, like this is all just a bad breakup, nothing that can’t be smoothed over. “i’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

she doesn’t know that you already did something. You already did the one thing that could ruin everything. the one thing that she told you you could never do.

your phone continuously buzzing while she's talking, hoping she wouldn't notice you reach for it to silence it while she takes a sip of her drink.

your phone vibrates again, and you try not to look at it. you’re not sure if you’re worried that she’ll see, or that you’ll see what he’s saying. you’re scared of both.

him <3 ; are we still on for tonight? can’t wait to see you.

that familiar ache forms in your chest, and you can feel the betrayal to your friend, the confusion about your own feelings, but worse—there’s nothing you can do about it. you keep smiling, even though it feels like your heart’s sinking with every word your friend says.

" god, if you don't want to listen to me, just say so. " your friend says coldly. " i would have turned off my phone if it was you crying right now. "

" sorry, it's just my mom...talking about some new present she wants to get my brother. " you apologized. "oh, okay. is your brother a cutie?" you didn't even have a brother, showed how much she knew about you.

“whatever, what should i do?" your friend asks, her eyes bright with hope (or maybe delusion). "do you think I should text him? do you think we could still fix things?”

you want so badly to tell her the truth.

you want to be honest, to say what she needs to hear so that she doesn’t get her hopes up.

you want to tell her that he is already texting you, that maybe you are the reason he won’t talk to her.

but instead, you bite your lip and offer a shrug. "i don't know, honestly. maybe he needs time to figure out what he wants too."

"he doesn't need time. he needs me." she mused, staring at you like your answer was just the stupidest thing she'd heard all day. "no wonder you've never dated anyone, who'd like a ditz like you?"

The whole time, your phone is buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, like a constant reminder of your lie.

you; see you tonight :)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ OTOYA EITA, ikki niko, RANZE KURONA, reo mikage, RYUSEI SHIDO

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧the... ' you'll never be first '

he's leaving soon, and you feel like you're dying.

you’d known for a long time that ‘casually’ seeing a pro soccer player would only lead to being left alone, especially someone like him—someone whose work always came first, and whose heart was as unreachable as the trophies he collected.

he’d said it more times than you could count: “love doesn’t come before soccer. It never will.” and you’d laughed, maybe even agreed at some point, understanding it was just the way things were.

so why does it feel like you’re drowning now, with him leaving just around the corner.

it doesn’t make sense. you’d known the deal from the start.

still, here you are—sitting in his bed, in the quiet of his room, the familiar hum of the city outside reminding you of how little time you really have left with him.

his suitcase is by the door, already half-packed, his jersey draped over the chair where he’d left it, as if he couldn't get out of here fast enough.

you’re almost sick to your stomach at the thought of him walking out that door in just a few days, never looking back.

you’ve spent enough time with him to know that when he leaves, he doesn’t look back. he doesn't look back at stadiums once he walks out, and he wouldn't look back at you either.

"it’s only a few months," he’d said, trying to make you feel better when the topic of him leaving first got brought up. “i’ll be back before you know it.”

but that’s not the point.

it’s never been the point.

you know he’ll be busy with games, traveling, sponsors,...women, all the things that make him too far to reach.

and yet, here you are, sitting in his bed, heart pounding, overwhelmed with the thought of it all ending. you thought you could handle this.

you thought you could be just another notch in his belt. but the truth is, you’ve been fooling yourself. you care too much. you’ve fallen for him, hard, and the worst part is—he doesn’t even realize it.

or maybe he does. maybe he’s known all along, and you were too scared to admit it.

the sound of his voice pulls you from your thoughts.

"hey, you okay?"

you glance over at him, watching him fiddle with his phone, one hand propped up on the headboard. his eyes meet yours, something in them that almost makes you believe he could stay. maybe, you're enough of a reason for him to stay where he is now.

but he won’t. you know that. his life is bigger than you. bigger than this city, this bed, and every memory you’ve shared together.

you nod, forcing a smile, trying to keep the strange bitterness from slipping into your voice.

"yeah, just thinking."

"don’t think too much." his lips curl up into that calming grin that’s made you feel better on several occasions. how could something that used to calm you make you feel like your heart was in your throat? “you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

it’s easy for him to say that. he’s used to moving on. he’s used to leaving. you? you're used to him being here.

his fingers tap absently against the screen of his phone. you can see the notifications lighting up—his agent, a few teammates, probably his parents, all reminding you of the inevitable: he’s leaving soon.

you want to scream. you want to ask him why he doesn’t care. why it’s so easy for him to slip away from everyone who loves him.

but instead, you pull your knees to your chest and keep your eyes fixed on him, as if the longer you look, you could magically gain telepathy to make him want to stay with you.

"how’s your flight looking?" you ask, hoping his answer would be that he cancelled it.

"all set."

and you can't breathe.

the casualness in his voice is what stings the most. the way he talks about leaving as if it’s just another day at the office, another game to be played.

he doesn’t get how you feel. maybe he can’t. maybe he’s just too busy not feeling anything.

The silence is deafening.

"do you... do you ever wish you could just stay?"

It’s a question you didn’t mean to ask, but it escapes before you can stop it.

You wish you could take it back the second it leaves your lips.

he looks up at you, and for the briefest moment, his eyes soften. for one second, he looks like he is completely and utterly yours.

he sets his phone down, sliding it onto the bedside table, then turns his full attention to you.

"i told you, didn’t i? love doesn’t come before soccer."

The words hit you like a train, but it’s not the truth that hurts—it’s the way he says it, like it’s not up for debate. as if it’s always been this way, and it always will be.

why can't he just try? just try to come home every so often...to you.

you feel like a fool. as if you've put your heart on display for him just to not even glance your way.

you know where you stand, even if it’s tearing you apart.

he doesn’t lie to you, doesn’t promise you things he can’t give, and maybe that's why you fell for him in the first place—he was the first person who didn’t play games with you.

"i’m gonna miss you," you say quietly, knowing that admitting it aloud makes it even worse.

his eyes flicker with something, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. he shifts, pulling his knees up to match yours, as if to say he’s close, but still so far. he rests his head back against the headboard.

and for a moment, you almost forget he’s leaving. you forget about the suitcase by the door. you forget about the plane ticket he has. you forget that in just a few days he wont be yours anymore.

"i’ll miss you too," he says softly.

but that’s it. that’s all he says. it’s not a promise, not a declaration. just another passing remark to fill the silence.

he doesn't mean it. it's more of a kindness thing for him to say it back.

you can feel the weight of everything unsaid.

you realize—he doesn’t know how much you care. He can’t understand you.

he’s never been asked to stay.

you’re not even sure you’d want him to. you can’t ask him to change his life for you. and you couldn't keep up with the lifestyle he lives.

the idea of him walking away—of losing him to something bigger, to something you’ll never be able to keep—feels like it will break you.

so you just lie down on his bed, for the last time, you tell yourself.

'after tonight, he'll be free of me'

after tonight, you'd walk out that door and not look back.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ITOSHI RIN, nagi seishiro, SAE ITOSHI, isagi yoichi, RENSUKE KUNIGAMI

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' to leave the warmest bed i've ever known ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[ + your faves ! ]

again, i've never experienced this, so i hope the research i've done (looking up different types of situationships) has done it justice!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

[watarfallar]

*gay braincell tossing*

Scar: Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Grian: Why start now?

Grian: I love you. Scar: I love me too.

Grian: I literally cannot believe I let you talk me into this. Scar: I literally said “I have an idea,” and you just went along with it without question.

Scar: Snow got me feeling some type of way. Grian: That's hypothermia.  Scar: Damn, the paramedics told me it was the magic of Christmas.

Grian: Surgery is basically just stabbing someone to life. Scar: Please never become a surgeon.

Scar: *gets set on fire and screams in agony* Scar: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me.

Scar: Damn, the power went out. Grian: Don’t worry, I got this. Grian: *stomps foot* Scar: What-? Grian: *Sketchers light up*

Grian: We either die free, or die trying! Scar: Are those the only choices?

Scar: I’m totally useless. Grian: You’re not totally useless. Grian: You can be used as a bad example.

Scar: Fellas, I gotta know for science. Is the opposite of red green or blue? Grian: Technically a mix of green and blue? Scar: So blurple. Grian: That's implying you're mixing blue and purple. Scar: Would you rather have fucking bleen? MOTHERFUCKING GRUE? Grian: You were confusing before but now I'm scared.

Scar: Why is it so hard for you to believe me?! Grian: ... Scar: Oh, right. The lying.

Grian: You’re not jealous, are you? Scar: No! Grian: Good, ‘cause I consider my fake relationship with you a lot more meaningful.

Scar: And what did we learn, Grian? Grian: Tackling someone isn’t the correct response to being asked a simple question.

Scar: You know, it’s fine to admit you were wrong. Grian: *Sipping their drink after accidentally adding salt* I just like the way it tastes.

Scar: You are a solid 11/10. Grian: Aw, thank- Scar: Which is 1.1 because you look like shit.

Scar: And have you learnt anything this Christmas, Grian? Grian: …Not really. Scar: Nothing? Grian: Tell you one thing I have learnt—Christmas; ultimately, commercial holiday. Who's the real winner at Christmas? Amazon. they have drones now! Tiny little dystopian slaves delivering iPads and headphones. I ordered a toaster; It was on the doorstep five hours later! Do we need that? It was 4.99! For a toaster! I mean, someone's being exploited there.

Grian: Kill him. Scar: This is the kind of quality advice I look for.

Scar: There are no friends when playing board games. I am here to win.

Grian, texting: Scar, will you please go to sleep? Scar, texting back: What makes you think you didn’t just wake me up? Grian, yelling: I CAN HEAR YOU CLAPPING TO THE FRIENDS THEME EVERY TWENTY MINUTES SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP! Grian, texting: Just a hunch :) You goin’ to sleep soon? Scar, texting: I’m trying Grian, yelling again: TRY HARDER I HAVE A 5:45 AM MEETING TOMORROW BITCH Grian, texting: Okay, don’t stay up too late or you’ll be cranky :)

Scar: I’m a masochist, not a loser.

Scar: Wow, that was quick thinking on that phony sacrifice stuff. Grian: Oh, that was all real. Scar: Wait, you were trying to help them kill us?! Grian: If I’m gonna be sacrificed, I’m gonna do it right.

Grian: *spins around in chair ominously* I’ve been expecting y- *chair continues to spin* shit *tries to stop spinning* shit *tries to grab a table to stop spinning* sHIT *falls out of chair*

Grian: I’m not stupid, you know. Scar: Well, you’re doing a really good impression of it!

Scar: Why do you think I don’t like you? I do. I would kill for you. Scar: Ask me to kill for you. Grian: ...First of all, calm down-

Scar: Grian, you’ve tried 37 times and you’ve failed every time. Give it a break. Grian: DO I HEAR “FIRST TRY PART 38?”

Grian: I know how this must look but I can assure you we have a perfectly logical explanation. Scar: Yeah! We’re cowards!

Scar: *holds a gun out to Grian* Grian: I-I don't believe in guns. Scar: Well, trust me, they're very real. Now take it.

Scar: I owe you one. Grian: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

Grian: I hate you with every inch of my body! Scar: That’s not a lot of inches.

Scar, to Grian: You drink too much, swear too much, and your morals are highly questionable. Grian: … Scar: You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a best friend.

Scar: I need a long word. Grian: T-rex but the long one.

Grian: I see the red flags, I acknowledge that they're there, and then I completely ignore them.

Grian: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go. Scar: Those are wanted posters!

[crtstormie]

this is what happens when I get bored on weekends.

This y’all’s man????

[textmel8r]

[ DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( fourth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; smut (?) , dub-con , alcohol consumption , profanity

( flashback; ) Wreaths and holly plants decked the usually barren, white walls of the seventh floor office level, and soft Christmas music looped on the overhead speaker in attempts to induce a jolly spirit. Colleagues conversed, discussing plans for December break over plastic cups of spiked cider. Everyone seemed in high morale; even Gakuganji, who donned a cheaply made Santa suit, still wrinkled from its time being folded in a package. Your first ever office party was about as much as you expected–not the worst time, but certainly not the best time, either. It didn’t help that you were still technically the “newbie” despite having been a member of the company for a few months at that point. Man, it was hard to make friends in an office full of stoic suits.

You remain near a far wall, slumped against the oversized copy machine with a drink in hand. Nobody had even appreciated your dress; a modest crimson thing with white, cottony trims to mimic Old Saint Nick. Figures. You pout into your cup, knocking back a heavy swig.

“Woah-ho, you sure went all out.”

The dialogue was unexpected and you sputter on a swallow of liquor, startled. A preemptive hand pats your back, something like a mother trying to burp a newborn. You swallow your spit at last, recollect yourself, and whip your head up to follow the source of the voice that nearly killed you. There stood a man tall and spindly in his stature with the most beautifully long, goldish hair drawn back into a ponytail. He is dressed down, wearing a simple pair of dark jeans and a sweater in favor of the suits nearly everyone else sported. 

“You shouldn’t sneak up on ladies,” comes your meager reply. Your free hand smooths down the skirt of your dress, and you clear your throat. “You scared the shit out of me.”

The man smiles apologetically. “Ah, I noticed. My bad.”

“It’s okay. Just… just don’t do it again.”

“Roger that.” He has his own drink, and you manage to catch a glimpse of it over the rim of the solo cup. It’s a dark, murky color, much more amberish than the cider that was being served. “I haven’t seen your face around before, it made me curious.”

“I secured a position here during spring.” Now that you think about it, he was unfamiliar to you as well. You would have definitely remembered that ponytail. “Are you–I mean, do you work in this building?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, they got me holed up in the Shibuya location,” he winks, leaning in. “I make it a habit to come to all the office parties, though. I can’t resist a little holiday cheer.” Two bony knuckles move to brush delicately against the trim of your dress. “I’m Haruta Shigemo, and you’re…?”

“Not interested.” 

Shigemo juts his bottom lip out. “C’mon, don’t be like that. I can’t know your name?”

Holding an index finger to your chin, you pretend to think about it. “What will you give me in return?”

A smirk worms its way onto Shigemo’s thin lips. He angles his hip toward you and pulls up the hem of his knitted sweater, gesturing to the uncanny flask half sticking out of his jeans’ pocket. “I brought good stuff,” he sings quietly, away from prying ears, and suddenly you understand the reason for his drink being a couple shades too dark. “And I’m good at sharing.”

Yeah, maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision to accept unknown liquor from a virtual stranger, you should’ve really considered all of the possible outcomes to this situation. You’d already had a little over two cups of warmed cider, rotating on the axis between tipsy and full on drunkenness. Your foggy brain didn’t care much to think about how some of this so-called “good stuff” would only lead to an inevitable, total inebriation. Or, a less likely but just as concerning scenario, Shigemo’s flask could be chock full of poison. Either way, you were itching to turn a less-than-okay party experience into a fun one.

“Y/n L/n,” you said finally, and Shigemo looks pleased. Strategically as to not give away the secret, he stood before you and widened his shoulders to create a makeshift cover while he poured a solid few glugs from flask to your cup. Immediately, the booze reeks of something strong like industrial glass cleaner. Your nose wrinkles as the stench singes the hair from your nostrils. “Smells fucking rancid.”

“Maybe you’re just not used to top shelf liquor?” Was that a dig? You’ll show him that you’re plenty accustomed with expensive booze (you’re not. not at all).

So you drank it. The taste of piss mixed with vinegar nearly made you retch, but after your second glass and an assload of determination, it started to taste… good? Maybe this Shigemo guy wasn’t too bad. The rest of the night was a blur of silly dancing to dumb Christmas songs, ugly laughing at the horse calendars pinned to the wall, and… well, the bathroom.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Your tone was breathy, a cross between giggly and pure apprehension. There in the men’s restrooms, you were perched up on the sink counter. That festive dress was slipped up around your hips by two slender, greedy hands, and a tiny waist worked between your thighs. Shigemo kissed you into silence.

“Why not?” He kisses you again, fumbling with his belt buckle. He’s nipping down your neck, whispering, “The risk is so fucking hot.”

And oh goodness, was he a man on a mission. Tearing the collar of your dress down beneath your breasts, fingering holes into your sheer stockings, stuffing a fist inside your panties… You were in no state of coherence to stop him.

Had it not been a professional obligation on his part to attend this year’s Christmas party, Nanami finds himself fantasizing about all the ways he’d much rather be spending this brisk winter evening. Probably soaking in his tub, nursing a glass of red wine and working on that book he’d been putting off thanks to the ungodly amount of work on his plate as of late. Then, he’d exercise those cooking skills he seldom had time to use and prepare a meal that had much more to offer than these feeble, sugary snacks at this party. Seriously? Cookies and cake? They were adults for goodness sake.

The floor was stuffy and claustrophobia-inducing. Everywhere he turned, Nanami was accidentally bumping somebody with his shoulder or his elbow or some other limb he lost track of. And the conversations were abysmal. Nanami has always been good with his words—he had to be in a profession like this—but Christ, talking to his zombies-for-coworkers was a worse fate than death itself. They drone on about office assignments, about deadlines and paperwork with no hint of light behind their eyes. Is that what he looks like to others? A worrisome thought, that Nanami was just as much of a slave to the corporate world as they were.

The deep train of thought is cut off before it spirals when red catches his eye. A dress red as rubies sticks out like a sore thumb among the sea of blacks and blues and grays of suits. You’re dressed in a silly get up, like those Mrs. Claus actresses in the malls that take pictures with children. Y/n L/n, Nanami recalls your name. He knows you, the newest employee in the office. He’s had very few chances to speak with you, and when he did it mostly consisted of him relaying orders from Mr. Gakuganji. But even in those brief instances, Nanami saw it plain as day: you were different. The first lively fool he’d seen in a while, eyes still glinting with the prospects of optimism and naive hope for the future. Foolish indeed, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. You were a breath of fresh air, but Nanami knew that it was only a matter of time before you were beaten and battered into another mindless cog in the corporation's machine.

A strange urge bloomed within the hollows of the man's chest; an urge that told him to initiate communication with you. Perhaps just a "hello" at the very least, seeing as you were his direct subordinate. It was the polite thing to do, right? Or maybe that was just a weak excuse he convinced himself of because Nanami didn't want to admit that you intrigued him in every sense of the word. You would provide an interesting back and forth, something Nanami desperately craved in the throes of this tedious party.

Golden eyes scanned the room. But no matter how long and meticulous he stared into the mass of bodies, Nanami could not locate the shade of red that had incited this search to begin with. There was a muted pit of disappointment the settled heavy in his stomach when he came to the realization that you simply were gone. He didn't doubt the probability that you ditched, no, he'd commend you for doing something he could not. Nanami sighs under his breath, lets his shoulders droop, and takes the last swig of his drink (water of course, the spiked cider was much too sweet for his tastes) before maneuvering through the crowd towards the bathroom. A five minute breather alone in a stall sounded like Heaven on Earth.

He shouldered through the metallic door, eyes closed, fingers tugging the knot of his too-tight tie as he stepped inside the restrooms. Only the sound of a feminine gasp was what pried his heavy eyelids open.

All three bodies froze: Nanami by the entrance with a slack jaw and wide eyes, a man he vaguely recalls from the Shibuya district stood between a pair of opened legs with his jeans tugged down to mid-thigh, and you. You, with your stupidly red dress in disarray, the neckline dipped below your bare breasts and the lower hem bunched up around the curve of your waistline. There you were, sitting up on the sink completely exposed... God, that bastard's hand was still buried down the front of your panties.

As if time suddenly unfroze, said bastard rips his hands away from your most delicate parts in favor of pulling his jeans back up. Nanami blinks once before cocking his head to the side at the unnatural speed of light, focusing on the faux plant in the corner, the uneven tiles beneath his dress shoes, the cracks in the eggshell paint on the wall... anything besides your indecent self.

"Whoops, would ya' look at that?" Shibuya fucker laughs halfheartedly as he fumbles with the button on his jeans, flustered and giggly. "Guess we got a little carried away there, my bad man!" He slinks towards the door, towards Nanami, but pauses. "Hey, you're Nanami Kento, right?"

"Yes." It's a cold response. Nanami doesn't look to the other man, instead he keeps his eyes trained down as to not get another eyeful of you.

"Aha right! Well," Shibuya fucker sweatdrops, clasping a hand over Nanami's shoulder. "Let's keep this a secret from the higher ups?"

The elder grimaces. "Please don't touch me."

The hand is ripped away. Shibuya fucker shows his palms in sort of a defensive stance as more anxious chuckles erupt from his throat. "Good seeing you, then!" And with that, he slips out of the bathroom leaving you high and dry. The prick didn't even bother to stay and help you get recollected.

"I'm decent." You sound meek, a tone Nanami has yet to hear from you thus far. It sounds small. Humiliated. "You... you can look now."

So he does, only to regret it. There you are, hopped off the sink and standing before him in a pitiful display. Your slender neck was tainted with love marks, darkened bruises bit into flesh with little artistry. Your stockings were shredded carelessly, bits of plumpness squishing through the holes. Your hair was mussed, forehead sweaty, lipstick smeared and... why was Nanami so irritated by the sight?

"What..." He starts, trying to find the words. "What is the matter with you?"

You gawk. "Nothing."

"Nothing." Nanami scoffs, hands pressed to his hips. "How careless could you possibly be? Fucking at a work event? I mean, for fuck's sake Y/n."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Your words are clipped. As if you have any right to catch an attitude with him right now.

"Sorry doesn't change the fact that you..." His sentence trails off into a tiny, frustrated growl scratching from the back of his tongue. The man takes his nose bridge between his thumb and forefinger. "The door was unlocked. Anyone could've walked in and saw you like that!" Exposed. Bare. Vulnerable.

"I don't know what else you want to hear other than sorry." Nanami doesn't miss the microscopic vocal crack in the word sorry. You hug yourself tight, forearms crossed over your chest. Your shoulders stutter, and your lips are sucked between your teeth to hide the wobble in them. "I'm... sorry."

You dress strap hangs off your shoulder. Nanami can't peel his gaze away from the strip of fabric. He takes a slow step in, gauging your reaction to it. You don't show any signs of discomfort, so he advances closer. The red strap is dainty against his rough fingers, so he cautions himself to be extra gentle when slipping it back up into place.

"Thanks," you sniffle.

He shushes you. Nanami isn't done yet, far from it. You still look disheveled and sad and weepy and he can't fucking stomach it for some ungodly reason. So he gets to work, first wetting a paper towel in the bathroom sink—the same one you'd been getting groped on a mere few minutes prior—and gingerly swipes away the smeared makeup from your kiss-swollen lips. Then, he's taking it upon himself to straighten out your hair. You let him stroke down your baby hairs without pushback, limply letting him rearrange your appearance as if you were some sort of life sized doll.

Nanami steps back to admire his work. The evidence of foreplay was nearly gone, save for the dreadful state of your stockings and those ugly teeth-shaped indents down the side of your neck. “Take those stockings off before you leave the bathroom,” he utters. “They look…” Slutty is the word that comes to mind first, but he’d never say it aloud. So he leaves it at that.

You’re looking at him with an unreadable expression. If anything, Nanami discerns a little concern in the way your brows turn upwards. “Are you going to tell anyone about this?”

He wants to oh so bad. To be the lame tattletale and snitch to Mr. Gakuganji because fraternization is wrong, and fraternization in the workplace is double wrong. “I should report you,” there’s a pregnant pause, “but I won’t.”

Why? He asks himself.

You seemed to have read his thoughts. “Why?”

Nanami doesn’t have an answer to that. Where is this slice of mercy coming from? All he knows for certain is that staring at the trembling woman in front of him any longer will have him blow a fuse. “Go home, Y/n.” It’s the last thing he offers before turning on his heel and walking back out into the Christmas function, swallowing down each and every confusing feeling swirling around his brain.

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @justbelljust @amnmich @ti-mame @silkija @maddietries @vyntagei @ebrysteria @aesukuni

[monstersighing]

MDNI 18+

Summer Storm

Tentacled Sea God Monster x AFAB Reader

Words: 1600

Content Warnings: NSFW, tentacles, non-human genitalia, light somnophilia, blindfolding, come play, praise kink, face fucking.

A prequel to this.

+++

You move to the town in spring. It’s a quaint place next to the sea and the job you lucked into keeps you busy during the day, but the nights are lonely.

The locals are nice enough but seem shocked whenever you tell them you’re living right next to the seashore. The rent was suspiciously low and the homes on either side of you are empty. You assumed it was because it was out of season and the other houses were holiday homes. Once, your colleague muttered about bewitching sea creatures. You laughed because who believes in things like that in the modern world. You chalked it up as a story made up to scare out-of-towners.

+++

Summer should be over, but a late heat wave has you hot and restless. You’ve left the window open a crack and the breeze blows over your skin as you lie on your bed. It’s humid and you’ve stripped down to your underwear. You hope the weather will break soon.

No one comes to this end of the beach to walk or even in a boat to fish, perhaps because of the sharp rocks that poke out of the sea, visible even at high tide. You leave the curtains in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in your bedroom open at night. You don’t bother to close them when you slide your hands up to palm your chest and tease each nipple.

You’re restless, so you tease your hands over the sensitive skin of your thighs, circling your fingers closer to your cunt and then away, over and over. You think about what you want: to be held tight, to be told what to do, to be fucked until you can’t think. You slide two fingers across your leaking cunt, gather the wetness and rub it over your clit. When you push those fingers inside your hole you imagine being fucked into and brought to the edge of pleasure over and over until your cunt not being filled would feel like a loss. You come hard, with your pussy clenching at your fingers.

I want someone to take me, you think as you fall asleep.

You dream of walking out of your home and onto the sand, and then into the cool water of the sea, guided by a voice that tells you it will give you what you want; that it will give you what you need. The water laps against your ankles, and you wade forward until you are knee-deep. You turn and look at your home on the seashore, your bedside lamp lighting up the bedroom.

You sense a presence behind you. Before you can turn, hands grasp your arms and sharp teeth press into the side of your neck.

“Mine,” a voice says, warm and possessive.

A body, tall and broad, presses against your back and then you feel something slipping over your waist. You look down to see tentacles. Tiny pinpricks of light shift over their surface, and their tips stroke across any exposed piece of skin they can reach.

“Yours? Take me then.” You push your underwear down your hips and kick them into the water, and press your ass back against the body behind you, then--

You wake up to the blare of your alarm.

After lying in bed for a few minutes replaying the dream – how vivid it was, and how strange - you shake it off and get up to get a shower before work.

+++

This dream is different. You’re laid out on your bed and being covered with a thousand touches. Tentacles shift against your thighs, others squeeze your breasts and use their suckers to pull at your nipples, making them stiff and tender.

You push your thighs together, aching for friction.

“No,” a voice says.

You jerk and open your eyes, but it stays dark. Your hands reach up and you feel something pressing across your eyes. Heavy, cylindrical, cool to the touch: another of this creature’s appendages, then? It’s pressed lightly across your eyes, like a blindfold.

“I came for you,” a voice says from above you. It’s the voice from the dream, low and vibrating.

“You- you were a dream.”

“I’m not that. I am what the people here used to call a god of the sea, and worship as such. I hear pleas like yours. And I decide whether to answer them.” The bed dips under his weight and you smell the bright marine scent of the sea god as he crouches above you. His hands press down on either side of your head, and he rumbles in your ear, “I heard you, and then I saw you. You looked so desperate laid out on your bed. So alone. I decided to answer. And now I am here.” He presses a thumb to your lower lip and strokes. “Do you want me to continue?”

You nod your head.

“Out loud.”

“Yes,” you say.

“Good girl,” the sea god says, and you feel a rush of heat flush down your face and neck.

“My name is [name], not girl,” you say.

There’s a huff of amusement from the sea god, and he says, “You may call me Lir.” And then the tentacles around your thighs tighten and pull your legs apart and fold your knees.

Lir’s finger trails up your slit and begins to rub at your clit. “You look perfect,” he says. You feel vulnerable, exposed like this.

“I want to see you,” you say.

“When you’ve earned it.”

He kisses you then. His mouth tastes of salt. His finger continues to rub at your clit as a tentacle joins it, circling your entrance. It pushes inside slowly, the girth increasing as it goes until you feel stretched and full. Another feeler wriggles in after. The two tentacles set up an undulating rhythm, pushing in and out in counterpoint. Pleasure rises within you in overlapping waves.

Lir’s position above you means you can feel his cock graze the skin of your heaving belly and drip pre-cum on your skin. The brush of his cock, the sound of his tentacles inside your wet hole: It’s both too much and not enough. But when you try to shift - to push the tentacles further inside or pull away, you’re not sure - the appendages on your thighs just grip tighter, holding you immobile.

The tentacles inside you twine then stiffen further, pushing at the walls of your cunt. You tilt up your chin, a silent please to be kissed, and Lir does. As his tongue slips into your mouth there is a simultaneous push in and up by the tenacles inside you, and they hit a spot that turns everything into white noise. They return to that spot again and again until you come with your hips trying to jerk up and failing, your body still pinned in place.

The tentacle over your eyes slips away, but you keep your eyes closed. The ones in your cunt untwine and slowly slip out of your swollen hole, leaving you feeling empty. Your legs are lowered to the bed.

“You were good,” Lir says. “So you may open your eyes.”

You do, and you see he is beautiful. Bent above you so your face is almost touching his, you can see his skin is mottled in shades of dark and paler grey. His eyes are large and intense, and his hair surrounds his face in black waves. His face looks kinder than you imagined, and his mouth is wide and generous.

You look down and see the proud jut of his cock. It’s thick, with a ring of suckers near its base. A fringe of small feelers surrounds it where a man might have pubic hair. You want it in your mouth.

“Please,” you say, “please let me-” And you don’t finish because Lir’s hands are around your waist to pull you up against the headboard of the bed. He rises and pushes his cock towards you, and you lean forward to suck it into your mouth.

The thickness of Lir's cock makes your mouth stretch wide, and drool drips down your chin. It’s too long to fit fully so you alternate between taking as much as you can and pulling off to twist your hand around the base whilst lapping at the head. Lir’s hips shift minutely back and forth. His hand settles on top of your head but it doesn’t push. With a frustrated noise, you pull your mouth off his cock and say, “Do it.”

Lir's hands tighten in your hair, and he pulls your face forward until your lips are stretched around the ringed base of his cock. You feel it head slam against the back of your throat, shift back and then slip past as he fucks your face. Back and forth, back and forth: his cock fills your mouth so fully that you can’t breathe. Your eyes water as he holds your head against his crotch and his cock slips deep into your throat. You feel his cock twitch, and with a grunt, he pulls you off and tilts your face back. He grips his cock with his other hand and pumps it - once, twice - and comes across your mouth and chin in spurts.

When your breath has become less ragged, you lean forward, close your eyes and lick the head of Lir’s cock clean. The tendrils around the base of his cock fan across your face as you do this, brushing the spilt come into your mouth for you to swallow. Your mind drifts, and it’s only Lir’s hand on your face that makes you open your eyes again.

“Sleep now,” Lir says. He turns you onto your side and settles behind you. His arm drapes over your waist, and his tentacles tangle around your legs.

“Sweet dreams,” you say. Lir makes a noise that might just be amusement and presses a closed-mouthed kiss to the back of your neck.

You look out of the window and see that it has begun to rain.

[moonriseoverkyoto]

Ghosts in the family

Synopsis - aka all the times The Riley siblings have talked about eachother, and all the times Soap should’ve connected the dots but didn’t see the constellation.

cw/tags - MDNI 18+ making out, grinding, no piv or smut guys sorry, swearing, mentions of female anatomy, military inaccuracies, fanon versions of cod characters, threats, mild violence, mentions of guns, innuendos, etc. you’re dealing with grown men in the military that is your warning

Pairing - Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x Afab!Riley!Reader, John Price x Riley!Reader (Platonic)

Author's note - Soap is about 26, Reader is 24, Tommy is the name of Simon’s canon younger brother who later scares him with masks and anyways, just beware of that background. Pt.2 of this au, just this just shits and giggles background for later bc I dont know how to flesh out that cliffhanger I left in my Drabble, see you at the bottom! - Moon

Requests are open!

© moonriseoverkyoto 2023. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

1. Simon knew that Johnny’s intention wasn’t to piss him off, but yet he still managed to feel a migraine pool behind his eyes. All day, every mission just asking question after question. Simon wondered if this is what it was like to have a stable home. All he had was you from day one his baby sister. His lips jerk upward before he cuts off the muscle reflex of what we know as a smile. He’d rather keel over and die than let Johnny see his eyes krinkle.

“I have a sister.” He grumbles. Everyone in the truck goes silent. Johnny’s jokes stop, Gaz smirks to himself, even Price manages to watch through the rearview mirror.

“Really? And you waited so long to tell me. Oh my god what’s the like. Oh is she pretty- wait don’t answer that, that’s weird if you agree…” Simon sighs to himself as he tunes out Johnny again. Oh he wishes holiday would come faster.

2. Holiday was tough. Even worse was being stuck alone over holiday break because your only family was stuck in an operation. Especially since you just got the news after putting up Christmas decoration.

“Really Simon? I got football on the telly, your presents are all wrapped” you whined. Simon grinned under his balaclava, oh how he wished he could be there to receive your annual gag gift.

“I know I know I know, assignment came late and everyone else has families to go home to so I just suggested myself-“ he tried to calm you down knowing this would only add gasoline.

“Dammit Si, I’m your family too! Im gonna give you a new buzz cut when you get home at the rate you’re going with all these sudden plans.” Your voice cracked at his name, you know he didn’t mean to break your heart. But Simon couldn’t bare to see Johnny, Price, or Gaz not go home to their big happy families.

“Yeah I know. Im yer brother. No getting out of that one.” He said. “Why don’t you stay with Price again this year. You know he loves you around”

“Because he is the only friend of yours that I’ve met-“

“Yeah you’ll meet the guys someday. promise.”

“Maybe for this holiday present?”

“Maybe.“

“yeah yeah yeah. I love you Si”

“Love you too, and I hope that second date of yours goes well this Friday” oh if only he knew how well that date went with your mysterious Scottish man.

3. “I thought you said you don’t kiss on the second date” Johnny grinned into your lips. Your hands all in his hair.

“Only if they don’t show promise” you remarked back. You could feel his bulge grinding through your pants in the back of this telephone booth. A soft groan leaving his lips as Johnny responded

“Oh so I show promise.” You could practically hear the grin as his lips trailed down your jaw and neck, the slight friction of his scruff following as he moved aside your dogtags.

“Yeah promise that if you don’t hush up, you won’t be getting anything” you quipped back as equally as smug

“Thought you were gonna call that brother of yers” he slurred back as he smelled your perfume. The man practically drooling as your nails trailed down his neck scratching. If he had a tail it’d be whipping the air. A whimper passing through the air as his bulge caught the right part of your fabric rubbing your clit in a delightful direction

“he can wait, I have something else to call for now” you said as you opened the door of the telephone booth and whistled (or yelled if you can’t) as loud as you could do to call a taxi. Johnny had a light in his eye that he never thought would spark until he met you.

Soon you would find out later that Simon actually COULD wait and he did, 12 whole hours he stayed up staring at your apartment door to be let in - fresh on holiday too. Maybe being motormouth’d by Johnny into the window of a hummer didn’t sound so bad now

4. Simon kept a photo of you and him in his pocket everywhere that you went. I mean everywhere. No matter the place. And a lighter too incase he was captured by enemies so as to not compromise his location. But it was a photo from a holiday in France. You were both pillow fighting in the bed. Messy hair, toothless grins, back when Mummy was alive and Daddy hadn’t shown his true colors. Tommy took that picture,. Simon holds it to remind him what he’s fighting for.

“Oh is that yer little sister, she’s missin a few teeth there” Johnny grins looking over the sniper’s shoulder.

“You’re about to miss some bones if you ask about my sister again” Simon growls. fuck. Johnny is the last person he needs around his sister. It’s not like Johnny was a womanizer - he was the opposite. Johnny was perfection. He was from a happy home, a stable home, a place where you wouldn’t have to remember what happened at that old house. It scared Simon to death imagining you forgetting about him. Then he’d really be alone.

“She must’ve gotten the good genes.” Gaz pipes into the coms, what an instigator.

“Wonder what she looks like in jeans” Soap hummed as he cleaned out his gun.

Ghost hummed to himself as he secretly folded up the photo and put it right back in the pocket over his heart. Maybe you could wait another year before meeting them.

Authors note - I made a part 2, this is unedited. Im so tired. I will flesh more of this out before I take another break I promise!! Xoxo - Moon

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part10. tickets

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: Vi`s weird behavior bothered you, later she decided to have a serious conversation about the future of your relationship

・❥・ genre: smut + grumpy x sunshine

・❥・ word count: 1.6k

✎ warnings: 18+, SMUT, sub!vi, fingering, oral sex, fluff

MINORS DNI!

RIDE ON ME masterlist

“yes, cupcake, don't stop,” - Vi's legs were on your shoulders as your tongue moved over her wetness. it seemed like you two were planning to make dinner together, but one thing led to another, and now she was lying on the couch while you were pleasuring her. there wasn't a single spot in this apartment where you hadn't enjoyed each other.

when your fingers slipped inside her, she tangled her hand in your hair and arched her back. you increased your pace, sucking harder on her clit. her body began to tense up, and you knew she was on the edge. pressing on that soft, tender spot inside her, she moaned louder and came. letting go of your hair, Vi tried to catch her breath.

“what are you doing to me?” - she said, and you just smiled in response. as she regained her composure, she kissed you. your lips still tasted like her, and lately, the two of you had become even closer, almost like one entity.

the holidays were going wonderfully, you finally had a break from studying and felt recharged. after a quick shower, you both found yourselves back in the kitchen. this time, you finally managed to cook a delicious dinner, and while watching a movie, you spent the evening wrapped in each other’s arms.

the next morning, Vi seemed a bit nervous. she left the apartment while you were still asleep, and when she returned, she didn't say where she'd been. when you tried to ask what was going on, she simply said there was no reason to worry.

you spent the day together again, but every time her phone rang, she would go into another room and close the door. you knew something strange was happening, but you couldn't figure out what it was.

this went on for a few days until your patience ran out.

“Vi, what's going on? I trust you, but your behavior has been a little different,” - you said, your voice was uneasy. you were used to sharing everything with each other, but now she seemed to be pulling away.

“everything's fine, there's no...”

“yes, yes, no reason to worry. I've heard that before, but I’d really like to know the real reason.”

Vi paused for a moment before speaking, - “there's something I want to talk to you about. can we meet tonight?”

“meet? why can't we just go together?” - you asked, realizing she was about to leave again.

“I have to go in ten minutes, but please, come to this café at 7. I have something to tell you,” - she said, getting up and avoiding eye contact.

"no, not this"

your thoughts were racing as she moved around the room in a rush. you watched her gather her things and walk out the door.

the whole day you were alone, unable to settle. "something bad happened, I can feel it," - you kept thinking. you were ready to leave as early as 5 o'clock, somehow believing that starting to get ready sooner would speed up time, but instead, you spent the next hour and a half sitting on the couch, waiting.

when the time finally came, you headed towards the café, feeling worse with every step. a few tears fell down your cheek as you realized what might be happening, but you were too scared to say it out loud. the café was almost empty when you arrived, and you took a seat at the table, waiting. minutes felt like hours, and your face grew pale.

right at 7, Vi walked in, sat down with you, and greeted you. you don’t remember if you said anything back, your heart was pounding, and her body seemed tense. "please, no."

“cupcake, I know I've been spending too little time with you these days,” - Vi began. “I'm sorry for that,” - she said, her eyes darting around nervously.

“what I’m about to say... I don’t expect you to...” - for some reason, she struggled to find the right words, and it was clear from her expression that she was incredibly nervous.

"Vi, please"

“we've spent so much time together, but I...” -she was struggling to find the words – “I can't do this anymore...”

"no, no, no" -  tears welling up in your eyes.

“I just want to say that...” - it felt like torture, her words weren't forming a complete sentence, and you decided to take the initiative.

unable to hold back, you said, - “if you want to break up with me, you didn't need to wait. why did you bring me here? so people could see me cry?” - your voice trembled. “I thought we were fine.”

Vi looked at you and finally realized that you were crying. when her hand reached out to wipe your tears, you pulled away.

“what are you doing?” - you said, starting to get angry. “just end it already.”

“cupcake, there's nothing to end,” - she said, her face showing a whirlwind of emotions. you couldn't understand what was wrong, but it didn't seem to matter anymore.

“what are you talking about? didn't you say you were happy to be my girlfriend?” - it seemed like some of the people in the café had started paying attention, listening to your conversation.

“I did, that's not what I…“

“not what you want? I already figured that out, and now I just want to leave,” - you said, feeling too humiliated to stay any longer. you started putting on your jacket and stood up to leave.

“cupcake, sit down,” - her tone turned firm, which caught you by surprise. “sit down, please, and let me explain.”

you didn't want to make a scene because almost everyone in the café was watching you.

“the reason I asked you here today is not to break up with you,” - she said, and your eyes widened in surprise. “if my dear girlfriend had let me finish a sentence, she would have known that today is a special day.” - Vi finally started to smile, and you felt a little warmth return.

“as you know, you're not just my girlfriend, you're also my roommate,” - she winked at you – “we moved in together six months ago.” - Vi took your hand in hers.

“in my whole life, I've never met anyone like you. cupcake, you amaze me every day and make me want to be a better person,” - she said, speaking with more confidence.

“as I was trying to say from the beginning, we've spent a lot of time together, but I can't keep my feelings bottled up anymore. it's hard for me to express them, so it takes me a while,” - she said, taking a deep breath while still holding your hand.

“I love you, cupcake. so much,” - Vi said, looking into your eyes, her fingers gently tracing over your hand. inside, everything was turning upside down, the rush of words and emotions was so overwhelming that you didn't know where to start. you saw a hint of panic appearing on her face.

“Vi, I love you too...” - you said, still with tears glistening on your face. “I feel so ashamed. when you were avoiding me these past few days, I thought you wanted to...”

“never,” - she interrupted the flow of your negative thoughts. “but I won't lie, you did upset me a little. how could you think that?” - her eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.

you decided not to answer, the shame you felt in that moment was overwhelming. you squeezed her hand tighter and lowered your head.

“then why were you acting so strange these past few days?” - you asked, still seeking an answer to the question that had been bothering you. without responding, Vi stood up from the table and went over to the waiter. they exchanged a few words, and then she returned to you.

“you deserve the best. I wanted to surprise you,” - she said, just as the waiter approached your table with a pot of fragrant tea and a slice of pie for each of you. Vi thanked the waiter and continued, - “you've spent so much time with me, you've opened up to me completely, and as a gesture of gratitude and my love to you, I want to give you this.”

she pulled a white envelope out of her pocket. turning it over in your hands, you started to open it. your hands were shaking, but eventually, you managed to pull out what was inside. they were tickets. you looked at Vi in disbelief.

“after the next semester ends, I'd like to go on a trip with you. I want to give you the whole world,” - she said, looking at you like she was afraid you might vanish at any moment.

“I... I don't know what to say,” - you said, trembling as you felt hot tears streaming down your face again. “I love you, this is incredible. thank you, thank you!” - you moved closer to her and started kissing her.

“I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, I was just so afraid of losing you,” - you said, burying your face in her neck.

“that will never happen. I love you too, cupcake."

--------------------------------------------------------

I'm a bit sad that this story has come to an end, but at the same time, I'm happy that I had the chance to share my thoughts with you. I am immensely grateful to everyone who read and shared my first creation. without your support, I wouldn't have made it through. I really hope that you found it interesting. once again, thank you so much! ♡︎

[lovebugism]

hi bug!! for blurbcember, how about ❝ don’t tell anyone, but, i spiked the eggnog. ❞ where shy!reader is by herself at a work holiday party, maybe she’s new or just really shy and doesn’t talk to many people, and steve/eddie goes up to her and jokes about spiking the eggnog to break the ice and flirt with her bc he has a crush on her and wants to make her laugh 🥹 totally not based on what i wish would happen to me at my work’s holiday party lmao

ah this is so cute! :D i decided to do this one for steve so i hope you like it!! — steve harrington spends the company holiday party flirting with shy!you (friends to lovers, shy!reader, fluff, 1.9k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

The quiet mouse and the personality hire walk into an office holiday party.

It’s like the start of a really bad joke.

You try to be as enthusiastic as you can about the whole thing, but spending the last half of your day socializing with coworkers who've never looked your way before now isn’t exactly thrill-inducing. Neither is having to hear “Oh, I didn’t know you actually spoke” a thousand times over.

You just don’t want the lecture about being a team player just because you have a harder time talking than most people do. Everyone knows you’d rather be at your desk, anyway. That’s what you do best — keep your head down and get your work done.

But Steve Harrington? He’s totally in his element.

He flits around the common area with a drink and a smile, making people laugh without even trying. It’s hardly fair.

You don’t know how he does it — or why he chooses to waste his charm on you. You’re hardly deserving of his dumb jokes or his pretty smile, but he’s stuck to you like glue, anyway.

He leaves your side only once. To get you another cup of eggnog because you were too scared to cut through the crowd for seconds. “Here you go,” the pretty boy croons as he hands you the plastic cup with a strong, golden hand.

You mutter a small “thanks” under your breath when you take it from him. At least, Steve thinks you do. You’re so quiet it’s hard to make the words out sometimes.

He pushes his sweater sleeves up to his elbows — a deep evergreen with a cream stripe around the chest, lined with several little Christmas trees — and leans against the wall beside you.

He towers over you in every way imaginable. It makes it hurt not to cower when he looks your way. Most of all, when he beams at you.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks suddenly, nose scrunched and honey eyes sparkling.

Your brows pinch momentarily in confusion before going lax again. “Sure?”

He leans closer to you, his warm scent engulfing you instantly — like morning coffee and woodsy cologne. It’s suffocating, in the nicest of ways, to be this close to him. 

“Don’t tell anyone, but I did actually spike the eggnog,” Steve whispers beneath the cheesy holiday music and distant chatter, quiet enough for only you to hear. 

You laugh before you mean to. 

He laughs because you are.

“I actually wouldn’t mind that,” you joke with a shy shrug.

“It’d make this whole thing a lot more tolerable, right?” he scoffs and brings his cup to his mouth. The heavy cream of the eggnog clings to his cupid’s bow before he licks it clean again.

You get quiet for a second, momentarily lost in how pretty he is. “Yeah. Definitely.”

“I think you’re the only person I know that’d rather be working than be here.”

“Well, I’m not really a—” Your mouth opens and closes like a fish until you find the words to say. That happens a lot. It’s why you find it easier not to speak sometimes. “—A social butterfly or whatever, you know?”

“I thought you were gonna say people-person.”

“That, too.”

Steve thinks for a moment, flits his eyes to the ceiling, and juts out his pretty pink lips. He crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs. “Well, I don’t think that’s totally true.”

Your brows furrow. Maybe he doesn’t know you as well as you thought. “No?”

“No,” he says confidently and with a shake of his neatly styled hair. He swipes his fingers through the intentionally messy strands. Then he shrugs. “Well, I mean, maybe. But I would say you are a Steve-person, you know?”

Your face screws up. His attempts to flirt with you don’t land.

He quickly tries to explain himself. “I just mean that— you know— that you don’t let everyone know you the way you let me know you.”

He gets all shy about it, but you think he might be right. 

Steve Harrington is more than just magnetic. He’s the kind of person that draws you in and opens you like a flower. An ounce of his attention feels like being basked in sunlight. He’s as handsome as life, too. Something holy, maybe. 

It’s his divinity that draws something out of you, you think.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re different from everyone else,” you shrug instead of elaborating on the dramatic religious metaphor in your head. Your gaze falls to the untouched cup between your palms. It’s easier to look at but much less interesting than the melting honey in Steve’s eyes.

He grins all sweet even though you’re not looking at him to see it.

“You mean prettier?” he jokes.

“Yeah,” you scoff and smile before you realize it. “No one’s competing with those dimples, Harrington.”

He beams. It basks you in golden sunlight. 

Something about the way he looks at you is comforting. Nostalgic. It makes you feel safe. Makes you feel brave enough to raise a trembling hand to his scruffy jaw and poke gently at the dimple in his left cheek.

“You just make it easier to talk. I guess.”

“Well, that’s good. ‘Cause I love hearing you talk.”

You squint playfully up at him. “Is that because you’re usually the one talking all the time?”

He nods. “That’s exactly why.”

You laugh, and it sounds like stars falling over his skin. 

“It just feels easy to me, you know? Being around you and everything,” Steve shrugs to pretend like you don’t stir something sort of poetry in his chest. “I just think you’re cool. Exactly the way you are. And, you know, when you apologize for being too quiet or too complicated or whatever— it makes me wanna kick the world’s ass for making you feel that way. ‘Cause you’re, like, one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

For a second or more, you’re not totally sure what to say. And not in the way you usually are. This is different. This feels like there’s sunshine in your throat, and you can’t speak a word through it. This feels like being so choked up you could cry.

No one’s ever been this nice to you, you think. No one’s ever been so kind to you about the thing you hate most about yourself.

You swallow through the sun rays and muster a wavering smile.

“See what I mean?” You try to laugh, but the words get caught in your throat. You cough once to clear it. “I have to talk to you because no one else will say such nice things to me.”

“And that’s just a shame. ‘Cause saying nice things to you is basically my favorite hobby.”

You laugh again, even though he’s not really joking.

“Like, if I could get paid to do it, I’d be out of this shithole in a second.”

You smile up at him, so wide it makes your eyes squint and your nose scrunch. No one else could stir such a loud emotion from the quiet you are. No one else but Steve.

[murdrdocs]

having a baby w mike and it being the baby’s first halloween :’) you mike and abby take lil dude to baby’s r us and spend HOURS trying to find smth perfect, mike and abby bicker over costumes bc “he’s my kid??” vs “i’m a kid and i know what kids like, and he’s MY nephew”, taking him trick or treating w abby and her staring down anyone w a mask or smth scary like “>:( don’t scare him he’s little”, mike being a Dad and wanting to take pics/vids of everything

oh my god clementine this is so sweet i actually had to silently squeal for a second !!

it’s like there’s a general buzz in the house for all of october. each of you thoroughly excited for the first real holiday in baby schmidt’s life, apart from the fourth where he’d worn an american flag swimsuit at your parents cookout. he seems to be excited too, constantly flashing his newly grown teeth even when no one’s looking. 

the outside of the house is brandished in cheesy decorations, little cobwebs and faux tombstones, abby’s hard work as she likes to remind you and mike every so often. it seems like she has just as big of a role in baby schmidt’s life as his parents, which eventually leads to the infamous babies r us argument. 

standing in the infant section again, it’s at least the fourth time the four of you have found yourselves here, the three times before ending in frustrated walks to the toy section (where mike put entirely too many toys in the buggy), a lunch break, and a feeding break for little schmidt. 

now, you’re determined to find a costume this time. the section isn’t that big so it really shouldn’t be as difficult as it is. but the two equally stubborn schmidt’s are the ones making it difficult, dual hardened eyes staring at each other. 

“he should go as mickey mouse, it’s cuter.” 

“and i’m telling you again, abby, that he’s going as a little astronaut.” 

they each hold their respective costumes in tight fists, and it’s really a funny sight to see; mike bent down to eye level with his little sister, face just a tiny bit red from the argument that really shouldn’t be as heated as it is. 

“every other kid is going to be an astronaut.” 

“and how do you know that?” 

“because dina’s little cousins are all astronauts. i’m a kid. i know what kids like, mike.” she spits his name with such a matter-of-fact attitude, that you start to see her point. 

but little schmidt is starting to get fussy in your harness and your back is really starting to hurt so you cut the argument short just when mike states, “yeah but hes my kid” and abby is starting to counter that he’s her nephew. 

you punctually grab the first costume that you see, the lion from wizards of oz, and throw it in the basket. 

“neither of you carried him and went through 17 hours of labor so i get to choose.” and they can’t argue with that logic. 

but to make the two grumpy ones feel better about losing, you all stop for ice cream on the way home. 

and weeks later, when halloween finally rolls around (because of course abby and mike were so excited for little schmidt’s first halloween that you’d gone costume shopping extremely early), they’re both on guard. 

abby’s trick or treating with a friend, you and mike left as guardians for the night, and as soon as dina rings the doorbell abby is giving her a lecture. 

“and he’s really little still so you can’t scare him, okay?” 

you and mike stand a few feet away in the hallway, coordinating outfits with baby schmidt who’s still down for the remainder of his nap. 

when it comes to trick or treating itself, mike has his camera out the entire time. he refuses to let you all leave the house without pictures. every few houses he has to take a picture of you and abby and dina walking back from the porch, or baby schmidt with his fist in his mouth. by the end of the night, he’s gone through two rolls of film, and there’s new family photos framed around the house by the time thanksgiving rolls around.

[generalllimaginesss]

author’s note: I blacked out while writing this, so it will be as much of a surprise to me when I wake up and reread it as it will to you when you read it for the first time. It wasn’t requested, just something that my brain came up with and wouldn’t let me sleep until I finished it. It’s loosely based off of Olivia Rodrigo’s The Grudge and the movie Sweet Home Alabama (my favorite movie). Also, this is completely made up in my head and in no way reflects something that Luke Hughes has done, or will do. It’s also 2:06 AM and I can’t promise that it’s proofread very well because I can barely keep my eyes open (I worked a double today).

Warnings: cursing, ANGST, cheating, kinda sad but has a good ending. Slow beginning, but I promise it gets better!

Without further ado….

The Grudge

“Hello?”

The single word that was the catapult for the demise of your relationship. The single word that changed the course of what you pictured your future as.

Luke’s side of the call was silent, the only noise able to be heard was his breathing, heavy as if the weight of the world was crushing his lungs, deflating him of life.

He wasn’t supposed to be calling. He had told you he was having a guys week, a time for him to regroup with his brothers and friends at the lake house. It was his own little sanctuary away from the life that he had worked so hard for. A quiet place. He had asked for that time, to which you agreed, he needed a break.

“Luke? Everything ok?”

He wanted nothing more than to hang up the phone in that instance. The reality that he was about to destroy the last bit of trust that you held for him constricting him as he fought with his vocal cords, trying like hell to form some form of vocalization.

“I need to tell you something,” He managed to squeeze the words out, every bit of courage mustered into it. The feeling of facing the mistake that he had made seemed impossible compared to simply just refusing to acknowledge it. He could ignore it all, ghost you, and pretend like he had never ruined everything. He had ruined your relationship, your love. You. He had ruined you, including everything that came from the relationship the two of you developed a couple of summers before he had left to play for Michigan.

Ironic that it would begin and end during the summer.

“Ok. Are you-”

“Are you alone?”

His brothers will kill him when they find out, but your family? The thought of them being there to wipe your tears and listen to your rants that have to do with him break his heart. He had developed a special relationship with your dad, your mom always put a stocking out for him during the holiday season, your brother? He had taught your little brother how to skate, how to play hockey. Even though he couldn’t coach your little brother’s team, he had supported him since the beginning. He had bought him his first jersey. 43.

“Yeah, Luke. You’re scaring me.”

“God, I fucking hate myself. I’m so sorry,” Sobbing, the sound of his arm wiping his nose could be heard. He knew he shouldn’t cry. He chose this.

He knew he didn’t always treat you like you should have, no deserved, to be treated. He didn’t spend time with you like he should have, he didn’t tell you he loved you enough. When you yelled at him about things, he would scream back. He would never hit you, but his words cut through your core, sometimes feeling worse than what you imagined the sting of one of his slaps might feel like.

The anxiety that stemmed from Luke’s call gripped your lungs, confusion coursing through your body outweighing the blood that sucked at carrying the oxygen at the moment. There was nothing random about your relationship, he didn’t surprise you with anything, much less a phone call.

Something is wrong.

The silence was deafening, overwhelmingly so.

“I tried to tell myself that you would never find this out, but there was somebody taking pictures and I need you to hear it from me first, ok?” He closed his eyes forcing himself to find some shred of courage left inside of him.

“Ok,” The word was breathy as it left your lips, a courtesy to encourage him to continue.

“I cheated,” It flowed out of his mouth in such a casual way that it felt like somebody had stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife and watching as you writhed in pain. The taste of iron flooded your senses as you bit your cheek to hold yourself together.

“We went to one of the local bars. She was the bartender, she knew us. Trevor invited her to the house after her shift and me and her ended up alone together while the others were out back and one thing led to another…one of the guys took a picture and posted it on their story. They forgot about you.” He tried to explain it in a way that redeemed himself. He was only 20 years old…this bartender could’ve taken advantage of him, but you knew him.

He didn’t get close to just anybody, he was the gate to his space. Nobody would get through the gate if he didn’t want them to, including this girl. Which made the bile that was building in your throat much more bitter. The fact that he not only cheated, but is trying to play victim makes you bubble with rage. Luke Hughes was very good at many things, but the one thing he had never quite mastered the role of was “victim.”

The shock coursed through your body like metal to a magnet, searching endlessly for something to smash into and deciding your heart was the place to do that. It felt like you forgot to breathe, your lungs aching for a breath.

“Y/N?” He willed you to talk, silence causing more anxiety than your anger ever would have.

“I never would have done this to you,” Your whisper spoke more volumes than a scream would have, cutting through the phone and going straight through Luke’s body. He wished you would scream at him, tell him he fucked up, but the way you said those words made him feel like this was it. He couldn’t come back from this one.

“I’m sorry,” His words were meaningless, but he spoke them nonetheless.

Those two words sent you into a silent rage, one that wrecked the inside of your mind but couldn’t be seen by anyone else. You hung up the phone, throwing it across your room and immediately packing everything that had to do with Luke into a box that you found.

Packing 4 years worth of things that you acquired from him was emotionally draining, each article triggering memories through the years.

His first Michigan Hockey sweatshirt that he had bought himself packed into the bottom of the box reminded you of the date he had planned. He had snuck the two of you into the arena when no one was there and taught you to skate, skills that still stick with you to this day. His first hoodie became yours that night, the smell of his cologne long gone from the comfort it brought you many nights when you felt lonely.

A Devils snow globe and jersey that was decorated with the number 43, his number, packed next. He had bought it for you the day he was drafted, convinced that it would be worth something one day. And it was. Just not to you anymore. The snow globe was attached to a memory that was better left forgotten. It was for your birthday, which happened to be the day after his. When you had gone all out for his 20th birthday, buying him a new custom suit and designer shoes that required months of savings, he gave you a snow globe that “you could add to your collection.” You had said some backhanded things to him, a huge fight came from that. A fight on your birthday, something else that you would’ve never done to him.

The last items consisted of hoodies, a few pairs of sweatpants and boxers, and a couple of jackets. The last thing, however, was something that you didn’t know if you could part with.

It was a letter that Luke had wrote you for Valentine’s Day the second year of your relationship, a sweet surprise that you weren’t expecting with your usual bouquet of daisies and roses, your two favorite flowers.

When you doubted your relationship with Luke in the past, when arguments and fights felt like it was all it consisted of, you always found your way back to his letter. He had told you that you were his end game, that there would never be somebody else that was better suited for him. He poured his heart out in that letter, telling you that he was going to marry you one day. One day when he had made it to the NHL and could roll in money, he was going to buy a rock for your finger and a huge house for all of the babies that you talked about.

Rereading the letter normally made you remember the good times, when things were good, but under the circumstances now it made you want to burn it, to watch his words turn to ash, just like the promises he had made to you.

Meaningless. His words were meaningless now.

It wasn’t always his fault, no. There were instances where you said things that you knew hurt him, things that echoed in the back of his head every now and then. Something along the lines of him never being as good as his brothers, that he would always be in their shadow. That Luke Hughes would be known as “just another Hughes brother.”

Some days he felt like that statement couldn’t be more true, that he would never live up to the records that Quinn and Jack seemed to break every time they stepped on the ice. Some days he just couldn’t see it coming together for him.

But other days he knew he was determined to make a name for himself, for Luke. The Hughes name was a force to be reckoned with. Luke wanted to be even better than his last name. Whatever it took, sometimes at the expense of those around him.

You snatched the letter that was stuck in the corner of the mirror that perched on top of your dresser, the sound of the paper crisp beneath your fingertips. As much as you wanted to destroy the letter, you figured it would be better to send it back to Luke. He needed to see all of the promises he broke and hurt he’s caused.

The paper was the last thing in the box, folded neatly on top of everything else.

Closing the box, you carried it to your car, placing it in the backseat behind the driver’s side. If there’s one thing that could be payback to Luke, it was telling his parents. He thrived on his parent’s approval, likely a symptom of being the youngest brother of an extremely successful family.

Ellen and Jim’s faces burned the back of your mind, so many memories that consisted of the two of them. Countless games at Michigan were spent with the two of them, as well as a couple of trips to New Jersey. You had helped Ellen cook supper many times, and watched as Jim coached his sons. Ellen’s pep talks were rarely intended for you, but you always felt like something could be learned from her wisdom.

The drive was silent, muscle memory the only way you could manage to get there in the state you were in. You didn’t know if the lights were green or if you used your blinker, all you could think about was Luke admitting to cheating. All of the shit you had been through with each other, all of the petty fights, had finally come to a head. You may have gone low, below the belt at some point in time, but this? You never could have ruined him like this, no matter how bad you wanted to.

As hurt as you were, you were numb. Tears wouldn’t fall, your body still in shock over the news.

As you drove up the paved driveway to the house that had become your second home, the emotions hit you when you saw Ellen in the flower beds, digging up weeds and planting new flowers.

She had heard a car approaching, causing her to look up and recognize you. Although she loved for you to visit, you normally didn’t come over unless Luke was with you, especially now that him and Jack owned the lake house.

She wiped at the sweat that was beading her forehead, dirt from her work gloves sticking in some of her blonde locks that were glued to her face. She smiled at you, before confusion flashed and she saw that you were carrying a box.

“Hi, Doll! Luke’s not here, but I’m glad you stopped by!” Her warm tone and kind smile didn’t fade, even if she did notice something off about your demeanor.

Her voice broke you. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring her and Jim into this. Maybe you should have just threw everything that connected you to Luke in a garbage can and called it a day.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She walked towards you with her arms open, noticing your quivering lips and teary eyes.

She was drenched in sweat from the summer sun, but you didn’t mind it. Dropping the box on the driveway, you allowed her to wrap her arms around you tightly. Her embrace gave you comfort as sobs racked through your body. How could such a loving mom and dad create such a jack ass? They had done perfect with 2/3 of their sons…what happened with Luke?

“Do you want to go inside? Jim’s working on a sink faucet, but he won’t mind,” She ushered you inside, her hand gently pushing your back.

Nodding, you wiped your nose on your sleeve and allowed her to walk you inside. She quickly washed her hands at the sink Jim was working at, earning a few objections from him, but she hushed him and motioned to you.

His face filled with concern as he noticed something wrong with you. He could fix a lot of things, but girls was something he would leave to his wife.

The leather of the couch soothed the heat that the summer sun had left on your skin. Ellen joined, sitting next to you as she rubbed your back, calming you. She truly was like a second mom.

“Is everything ok?” She held onto your arm, the pressure from her fingers sending tingles to your brain.

“No,” You croaked, the single word rattling your throat as it struggled to exit.

“What happened?” Her voice had dropped below her regular volume, but above a whisper. She cut her eyes at Jim who was attempting to listen from the kitchen.

“He cheated…”

The shock hit his parents as hard as it did you. Quinn would never cheat, Jack? It was questionable sometimes. But they’re baby? The one that had endured the lectures from his parents the longest, the one that had seen his brother’s mistakes and learned from them, the one that seemed so in love with you that nothing could ever separate you both? It seemed nearly impossible. Surely it was a mistake.

“How do you know? The press always lies…” She trailed off, your eyes connecting to hers.

“He told me,” The strength you tried to regain from your prior meltdown was useless as your voice trembled, “…said that he wanted to tell me before somebody else did.”

“Oh, Honey. I’m so sorry,” She pulled you into her arms, watching as Jim rounded the corner to join. You were like the daughter the two of them had always wanted, so seeing you hurt killed them in return. And at the hands of their son? They were immensely disappointed. They didn’t raise him like this.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do, and I probably should have left you both out of it,” Your attempts at stopping the free-flowing tears were useless, so you embraced each one as it fell, “…um, I brought his stuff back. I know he’s at the lake house, but I don’t think I can see him right now. I really wish we could have worked. You two will never know how much you and your boys mean to me.”

“Likewise, sweet girl. I wish I could make this all better. You may not feel like it right now, but our family will always hold a spot for you,” Ellen reassured, a hum of agreement resonating within Jim.

“Anytime you want, and I’m serious, our door will always be open for you. No matter the time or circumstance, do you understand?” Jim waited for you to respond, a nod of your head, before embracing you again.

Their words meant so much, but the hurt still ached, seemingly never ending.

You said your goodbyes, taking in the house that you would probably never see again. The walls holding memories that only those in the house would ever understand or appreciate.

Closing the front door felt like closing a chapter on your life. A chapter that felt like it was ending in the middle with no resolve, but it closed.

It needed to.

———

As the New Year approached, your parents reminded you of the plans they had that would draw them away from home. They claimed that they celebrated Christmas with you, but the New Year meant that you were alone in a house that felt big and lonely while they celebrated with their fellow group of middle aged parents.

The months had passed, agonizingly, since Luke’s cheating admittance. The summer turned to fall and fall into winter, getting colder like you were allowing your heart to do.

A few dates here and there did nothing but remind you that the guy wasn’t Luke. They should’ve been better than Luke since they actually treated you with respect and checked every box that a girl had.

But the lack of teasing, of being the biggest pain in your ass and best friend, made the hole in your life bigger. You were sure nothing would help, not even the texts from Ellen and Jim, periodically, made it better.

They all consisted of the same topic: “How are you doing?”

It was the same old same old, until it wasn’t. Until Ellen texted you after Christmas asking you about your plans for New Year’s Eve. The Hughes had always thrown a party for the New Year, packed to the brim with people.

When Ellen asked if you had plans, you had every intention on lying and saying yes. Saying that you had a date and that he was taking you to see the countdown and fireworks that followed, but something told you to tell the truth. So you did.

After you had admitted to her that you, in fact, would be all alone, she reached out and invitation to join them.

The invitation had toggled in your mind for a few days now. On one hand, you wanted to go see how everybody was, talk to his brothers, catch up with his friends. On the other, you wanted to stay home in your pajamas and watch Andy Cohen get shitfaced with Anderson Cooper while wondering if Luke would kiss somebody for the occasion.

The saying “curiosity killed the cat” proved to be true as you had finally decided to go, a sparkly gold dress accentuated your curves, hugging you in all of the right places, the places that Luke had once yearned for. You don’t know how, but your makeup was flawless, your eyeshadow bringing out your eyes in a way that you had never seen, but you loved it. Maybe this was revenge?

Even though you hadn’t made the drive in over 6 months, you still knew it like the back of your hand. Your nerves were working overtime, anxiety squeezing your thoughts the closer you got to the Hughes’ residence.

What if Luke had a new girlfriend? What if his parents were the only ones that wanted you there? Was this actually a good idea?

Too late now.

There was probably 25 or more cars that littered the driveway, most carrying a minimum of 2 people. It was a relief, maybe you could just blend in with the rest of them. A chameleon in the house of your ex lover.

Music blared, drifting from the backyard into the front, making the walk to the door less daunting of a task. There was no use in knocking, the sound of talking and music would most likely just drown it out, so you took a breath as you pushed the door open. It appeared to be the spot for the more mature crowd, Jim spotting you as soon as you walked in.

He was confused as to who you were at first, but as soon as you gave him a shy smile his face lit up with excitement. He had missed you more than he realized.

“Y/N! What a nice surprise! Come in, make yourself at home,” He squeezed you in a tight hug before relinquishing you.

“Y/N! Oh my, I wasn’t expecting you to come, but I’m so glad you did!” Ellen squealed, the clinking of her heels against the hardwood floors becoming faster as she did her best to jog to you, embracing you like her life depended on it. It lasted a few seconds before she held you out at arms length, examining you.

“Gosh, you look absolutely stunning! That dress was made for you!” She gushed.

“Thank you! I just decided to throw something together last minute. I should have let you know I was coming, but I honestly didn’t decide until right before I got dressed,” you chuckled, explaining the lack of communication on your part.

“Honey, you do not have to explain a single thing to me! I’m just so happy you’re here!” She hugged you again, rocking you side to side.

“The kids, sorry, young adults are out back. I do have to warn you…Luke did bring a date,” As she explained the dilemma, you expected yourself to break down. When it didn’t, relief washed over you. It had been almost 7 months, why wouldn’t Luke have moved on? You couldn’t be mad at him for that part, but you still held a grudge against him for allowing you to love him as much as you did and shattering your heart in the end.

There was never another conversation between the two of you. His parents never brought him up, he had never attempted to contact you, so the resolve was the fact that you returned everything. He had nothing left connecting him to you. That was how it was supposed to be, so there was no need to communicate with you. He had gotten the message loud and clear when he had returned home to a box of his things in his old bedroom and an ass-chewing from his parents and brothers. One that he would never wish on his worst enemy.

He learned from his mistake, but felt like the very toxic situation between the two of you was better left where it was: untouched.

He had been trying to move on ever since, sleeping with any girl that reminded him of you, sneaking them out before Jack had noticed, or simply just embracing the newness of being alone. It sucked at first, but he got used to it.

Ellen’s face flushed with concern at the momentary silence that followed her statement, scared that she would scare you off with the news of her son, your ex, having a date that wasn’t you.

“Ellen, it’s ok! I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” Making light of the situation was easier to fake on the outside, but trying to convince yourself was a bit harder.

You talked to Ellen and Jim for a few more minutes, catching them up on the latest details of your life, and then grabbed a Michelob to give you some liquid courage as you walked to the backyard.

There was people dancing, circles of people talking, various games being played, the scene never-ending as your eyes scanned over them. A few people locked eyes with you, recognizing you as the ex, but most everybody just continued to do whatever it was that they were doing. It wasn’t until Quinn’s eyes softened from his party vibes to concerned big brother that you felt nerves wrack your body. He immediately excused himself from the group he was talking to, making his way through the small sea of people to get to you.

For a split second you wanted to run away, but the rational side of you talked you down. It was just Quinn. Quinn had done nothing to you except loved you as if you were his own sister, so why would you run?

“Y/N! I wasn’t expecting you…how are you?” You immediately threw your arms around his torso, him returning the gesture, his hug similar to the way Ellen had hugged you.

“I’m good! I had no other plans and Ellen seemed like she really wanted me here…”

“Yeah, she hasn’t shut up about you,” He laughed, recalling how his mom mentions you anytime a girl was over, even one that Luke brought, and always comparing them to you when they left.

You were the standard that she held possible daughter-in-laws to, but they never lived up to you, she would admit.

“Gotta love her,” You chuckled, a slight awkward tension fell between you, a foreign, icky, awkwardness.

“That you do,” Quinn tried to repair the conversation, but some friends began to pull him away. He had mentioned to not leave before telling him bye, and then left with the group.

“Didn’t think you’d show up here,” The voice turned your blood to ice, freezing up what the beer had tried to let loose prior. No matter how many ways you envisioned this interaction to go down, nothing could have prepared you for hearing his voice after so long. It wasn’t like “nails on a chalkboard” irritating, but more along the lines when you pick a scab and it starts bleeding again.

That’s quite literally what it was. He was an old wound in your life that was becoming irritated because it was being messed with. No matter how much time had passed, it was still sensitive.

“Well, didn’t think I would be here either. It’s just as much a surprise to me as it is to you,” You turned around, met with the beautiful, curly-haired boy that was once your everything and a petit blonde that was his temporary. She was gorgeous, you’d give her that. But it wasn’t real beauty. It was bought. There’s nothing wrong with that, but her bleach blonde hair, fake tan, and push-up bra was irritating like nails on a chalkboard.

“Do you mind going to get us something to drink?” He turned to his date, giving him the empty bottle that his hand wrapped around.

“Is that a Michelob Ultra?” You almost snorted, her question a breath of fresh air in this unfortunate meeting.

“Not her and I, you and I,” Luke quickly cleared up.

She left with a smirk playing at her lips, kissing his cheek and heading inside.

“God, please let’s go somewhere else,” He grabbed your arm, tugging you to a secluded, area beside the shed out back. Your brain told you to rip your arm from his grip and scold him for thinking it was okay to ever touch you again, but your deemed in control and allow his touch to erupt butterflies in your tummy.

“I don’t know what I was thinking bringing her here,” he groaned, realizing he was still holding onto you, quickly letting go.

“She seems more Jack’s type, if you ask me,” You suggested, Luke squinting his eyes at your words.

“Good thing I didn’t ask…” He may have been the reason the relationship ended, but he wasn’t going to put up with any slander that you had for his current life. The life that didn’t include you.

“Whatever, why did you bring me here?” You looked around at the spot. It had definitely been a spot where the two of you had snuck off to make out several times, escaping the teasing of his older brothers.

“To talk…” He shift his weight to his heels, his hands finding warmth in the pockets on his pants.

“Oh! To talk about you being a complete dipshit and cheating on me this past summer? Yes, let’s talk about that!” Sarcasm dripped from your voice like venom from a snake, targeting the next victim: Luke.

“I’m sorry…” Again, the empty apologies were beginning to grind at you now. You didn’t want the apologies or the excuses. You wanted him to shut up for once, hear you out, and then come up with a genuine apology. He had said his piece, now it was time for you to say yours.

“No, Luke. You’re not sorry for cheating, you’re sorry you got caught. Save the apologies for when you actually mean them,” You started, him immediately shutting up and listening.

“We were so fucking toxic. You know it, I know it. The whole world probably knows it by now. But, God, I loved you so much. I would have spent my whole life trying to fight for that stupid relationship and you turned around and threw it all away. And for what? Some temporary pleasure? You couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to get back to me?” Your words shot through him, like bullets hitting glass, shattering the surrounding areas. He couldn’t argue because everything that you were saying was true, but he’d be damned if he let you find satisfaction in being right.

“You said it yourself, it was toxic! You probably would’ve found a problem with me being there without you, anyway!” He tried to defend himself, but he was fanning a flame that he shouldn’t be messing with right now.

“Don’t you dare try to manipulate me into thinking your cheating was justified! Luke Hughes, I’ve said some fucked up shit throughout the years, but I never have, and never will ruin your trust. That’s the type of shit that lasts a lifetime. I can’t date anybody else because there’s always that ‘what if’ of them cheating!” Tears brimmed your eyes, softening the wall that surrounded Luke’s heart. He was a tough guy, but the sight of you hurting was a soft spot for him, an Achilles heel.

“You promised me a future, and then turned around and burned it to the ground without a second thought once you got a taste of fame,” Your finger poked at his chest hard enough for him to wince, expecting to see bruises the next morning.

“You’re a liar! A fucking liar and cheater!” Your voice broke as the words left your mouth, but Luke took the verbal beating that he deserved.

“Do you think I want to be labeled as a cheater, Y/N?! I’ve prayed for months that I’d just wake up and it not be real, that we’d still be together!”

“Awe, so sad, Luke. Truly heart wrenching!” You grabbed at your heart, feigning compassion as he began to clench his jaw, the muscle flexing as his annoyance rose. It was hot, but not hot enough for you to do anything about it.

“Stop being such a bitch, it may suit you, but it doesn’t mean you have to wear it.” His eyes grew dark, almost challenging you to see who would win in a game of insults.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I was supposed to act however you deemed fit. Even if you’re a cheater…”

“I cheated, I’m not a cheater,” he tried to correct, a viscous chuckle tumbling from your mouth in response.

“I’m not! That’s the one and only time that it will ever happen, I can promise you that!” His voice rose in volume as he continued to defend himself.

“Oh, one and done Luke! How nice! My trust is fixed, so there’s nothing left to worry about!” The sound of people counting down in the background didn’t distract you.

10…9….8…

“If I’ve had anything in the past months it’s peace in knowing I don’t have to put up with your fucking nagging anymore!”

7…6…5…

“Yeah, and I don’t have to worry about you fucking some rando anymore!”

4…3…2…

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

1…

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The voices erupted behind the shed, but the whirlwind of a kiss muffled it all.

Luke eagerly pulled your face toward him, his lips colliding as intensely as a train hitting a car on the tracks. An accident waiting to happen, but there nothing that could be done about it.

It took a second or two, but you kissed back with the same passion as him, him pushing you backwards until your back hit the wall of the shed.

His lips were like home, sweet and comforting. The remnants of his vodka redbull tempting your taste buds to plunge deeper, but you didn’t, you let him set the pace.

One of his hands tilted your chin up, steadying it as the other pulled you closer from the small of your back. Every sense inside of you erupted in fireworks as his tongue tried to gain entrance into your mouth, but you stood your ground, or tried to at least.

The hand that steadied your chin found itself wrapped around your neck, the shock causing you to gasp as he gained entrance.

“Luke! I finally found something to drink, but we missed our-” The voice immediately tore the two of you apart, the fireworks over the lake and store bought pretty interrupting the fireworks that were going off inside of you. Your breathing was a little shallow as you tried to control it again.

“-kiss. What the hell.” She glanced between the two of you before storming off, her stiletto sinking into the grass as she desperately tried to remove it from her foot.

Luke groaned, but the chirping had just begun for you, “One and done, huh?”

“Me and her aren’t even dating!” He squealed.

“We’re talking about this tomorrow, Y/N. Do you understand me?” He pointed at you as he began to smooth over yet another failed attempt at dating, but he wasn’t going to reconcile that one.

“Aye aye, Captain,” You gave him a silly salute, earning an eye roll from him, but as soon as he turned away from you the smile wouldn’t disappear.

Call you crazy, but you hadn’t felt butterflies for a long time, probably since his note to you. What you felt tonight was an army of butterflies being obliterated by fireworks. The feeling of his fingers around your neck, his jaw muscle contracting, everything about him had turned you on.

Did you really fold that easily?

Oh well. The thought of the next day, the possibility of getting him back, along with his family far outweighed your pride.

He could be your Luke once more.

[cumikering]

Neighbour Keegan Russ x reader

3.5k | fluff Fake dating on Christmas but wishing it wasn’t. Hey, where did the rest of the wine go?

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Keegan turned to you standing at the door of the laundry room.

He chuckled. “Likewise. Seems like everyone’s already gone for the holidays.”

“You’re not going home?”

He shook his head. “My break’s too short to make it worth the trip. You?”

“I’m flaking.” You tipped your basket into the machine next to him. “I’m gonna say I’m sick.”

“Oh, why?”

“My cousin’s family is hosting. She’s not my favourite.”

He laughed. “What’s your beef with her?”

“She’s such a show-off, won’t stop talking about her boyfriend and the fancy gifts she’s getting.” You inserted the coins into the machine with more force than needed. “And I think it’s finally getting to my mum, because she’s asking about my relationship status.”

“Well, if you need company…” he said, trying to not sound too hopeful. I’d love to spend some time with you.

You turned to him, brow raised. “Wait, you mean, you want to come with? Be my plus one?”

“That wasn’t- well, yeah. I can do that.” He shrugged. “If you want.”

This wasn’t the direction he was heading for. He was going to offer to spend Christmas together, maybe exchange gifts, but he surely wasn’t going to take that back. Anything for a chance with you.

“Really?”

He always enjoyed seeing your face brighten like that, despite never getting the chance to see it enough. When you moved in down the hall a few months back, he’d always found you cute, even managed to exchange numbers ‘in case you need anything’. But between deployments, he was lucky to even catch a glimpse of you once a week, leaving any possible advances towards you simply a fantasy to him.

But the opportunity presented itself that late Sunday morning and he wasn’t going to let it go.

“I don’t mind. Spending Christmas alone is depressing anyway.” He smiled. “What do I need? Wine, gifts?”

You shook your head. “Just show up, that’s all.”

“I just need to look good?” he teased.

You laughed. “I didn’t want to put it that way.”

“That’s alright. I know my place. You’re welcome to dress me up.”

“Okay.” You looked down at your basket. “I’ll text you when I get the details. See you next week.” And with that, you left, avoiding his gaze.

He was out of practice, but was he that out of practice that he came on too strong and scared you? He certainly didn’t mean to make it suggestive. This was going to end before it even started. He grimaced to himself.

This fake dating shenanigan was never going to work if you could barely look at your ‘boyfriend’. Dress him up? That time you saw Keegan on a run shirtless out your window you had to sit down.

But he was casual about the offer. Obviously it meant nothing to him, just something to do for the holidays - anything was better than celebrating alone. You didn’t have to make it weird.

It was just a lunch.

So when he asked if you wanted to have dinner at his place on the 24th, you didn’t know if you were supposed to be excited or not. But surely he was just being nice. He was nice.

He didn’t speak much (you wished he did though because his voice was divine), but he was always nice ever since you moved in, telling you to not hesitate to text if you needed anything. You knew he meant it, but between his tours, he was still a busy man you didn’t want to bother. Instead, you delivered home cooked meals after each deployment.

Maybe he was trying to return the favour.

When you said yes, well, Keegan couldn’t contain his excitement. He made a run to the fancy supermarket after work. He’d been told that women liked guys who cooked and he wasn’t horrible at it. It was his time to shine.

He welcomed you to his apartment with a smile. He hoped you didn’t judge the state of his kitchen too much. He had underestimated the effort required for said dinner, but the way you lit up made it all worth it.

“Would you like some wine?”

“No, thanks. I don’t really drink.”

He sat down, the dishes across the table. “Well, then your family is getting two bottles.”

“Please, you didn’t have to.”

“Are you sure I don’t have to try to impress them?” Isn’t that what boyfriends do?

“You’re doing more than enough coming tomorrow. My mum’s going to like you too much.” You let out a small laugh.

You too, I hope. He helped you to a serving of potato gratin. “I really don’t mind.”

“This is delicious. I didn’t know you’re such a great cook,” you said after a bite.

He smiled proudly. You didn’t need to know he persuaded (or coerced, who knows) the cook at base to coach him for the night.

Your eyes flicked back onto your plate, but his remained on you. You were a pleasure to look at, and the fact that you were there in his apartment, letting him cook dinner for you, made him chew on his lip.

Having usually only met in passing, he finally had the chance to ask more about you. And you smiled again when you talked about what you liked doing for fun, the passion oozing out of you. He could listen to you all night.

He wished he had dessert as a reason to keep you longer, but the conversation moved to the couch after you helped him clean up. He breathed a small sigh of relief, feeling like a boy clueless on how to keep their crush’s attention.

“What are you wearing tomorrow? I’ll pick something that goes with you.” He figured he was too bold the other day with his statement.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, I might as well pick your outfit while I’m here.”

Well, he didn’t expect that.

Keegan sat on his bed as you went through his wardrobe. How cheesy would it be if he were to pull out his guitar and serenade you? He, too, was told the ladies liked men who played the guitar. Why do you think he picked it up in high school?

“I can’t pick between these two.” You held up a maroon sweater and a dark green button down.

“I probably I shouldn’t be offering after such a huge dinner, but do you need me to put them on to see?”

You looked at him with a little glint in your eye as you laid the clothes next to him. “If you insist.”

Oh, he loved making you smile.

It was adorable how you quickly everted your gaze when he took his shirt off (he was hoping you’d look), but at least he enjoyed the attention you gave him when he was in said tops. You settled on the sweater and black jeans before excusing yourself for the night.

“We don’t need to take a cab tomorrow,” he said at your door. “I haven’t driven anyone in a civilian setting in a long time, but I can drive us.”

You laughed. “I can’t even begin to guess why you feel the need to tell me this, but I am not reassured at all.”

“People at work think I’m a bad driver, but I’ve never been in any accident.” He placed a hand over his chest. “I promise to keep you safe.”

“You better.”

The next morning, as your (self-proclaimed) arm-candy for the day, Keegan did way more push ups than he needed to. He also managed to retrieve the cologne he hadn’t seen in at least a year. He’d made it his mission to make sure taking him to your family was worth your while.

He fussed with the car audio. “Would you like any music?”

“I thought the etiquette is the driver gets to pick.” You strapped yourself in, the belt snug against your dark green top.

“Fair enough,” he said with an amused smile. He pulled off the lot as the familiar intro to Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High played.

“Oh, I like this song!”

“Sing with me.” He turned up the volume.

The both of you sang wholeheartedly, and he knew he shouldn’t be looking, but he had to see the smile on your face. You were rather quiet in the short interactions you had, but you’d opened up the night before, allowing your playful personality to shine. You were a steady stream of glee that didn’t drain him and he couldn’t get enough.

He should have made his move much sooner.

“You wanna tell me about your cousin’s infamous boyfriend?”

“They started dating in the summer. Bella couldn’t shut up about how he went to Ivy League and got his masters, how much he’s making and his fancy vacations.” You chuckled. “Well, the first time we met, she dropped her very expensive earring at the restaurant. The three of us looked for it under the table and then he said ‘threesome’ under his breath.”

Keegan bellowed a laugh, looking over to you. “What the hell?”

“I wish I was joking.” You shook your head. “I don’t think he intended to say it out loud because when I turned to him, he looked like he was about to piss himself. He never looked me in the eye the rest of the day.”

He stifled the last of his laughs. “If I were him I’d have left. Forever.”

“She’s always smiling with him so I’m happy for her too, but he’s definitely not as cool as she painted him to be.”

“Wait, that’s who I’m up against? I don’t stand a chance. I should have got a fancier gift than wine.”

“I didn’t want to compare, but you’re the far better company. Far better looking too.”

He didn’t have to look at you to tell you were smiling. He hoped you meant that.

“So I have to stare at you a bit to sell it, right?”

You laughed. “Well, you don’t have to.”

“What if I can’t help it?”

“Then I guess I’ll have to stare back.”

“Should I- can I hold your hand?” He was glad he didn’t have to look at you because he wouldn’t dare to ask otherwise.

When you placed a hand on his thigh, he gripped it as his heart raced.

And yours now too.

Keegan went far beyond the extra mile for this silly lunch, and what for? It only made it hard to dilute your hopefulness that this meant the slightest bit more than nothing.

A sliver of dread crept up. If your mum liked him too much, and you knew she would, she’d keep asking about him, and what would you say? You wouldn’t want to break her heart, but most importantly, you didn’t want to break yours. How were you going to say ‘we won’t be seeing each other anymore’ without your genuine disappointment bleeding through?

But you were a big girl. It was your petty idea to rub it in Bella’s face that you had a handsome and well-mannered plus one with a stupidly silky voice. You told yourself you’d worry about that after.

You turned to him. He’d styled his hair differently and shaved that morning, his light stubble accentuated his jaw. He smelt good – fresh and clean. His sweater was snug enough to outline his strong arms and chest. You hoped he didn’t mind you looking. Maybe you should have taken his offer to dress him up.

He had loosened his grip, thumb now stroking over your knuckles. He had pretty hands, his long fingers curled over the steering wheel. You entwined yours with his.

Despite the weather, your hand remained warm in his on the porch. You looked up at him, rocking on the balls of your feet, but his gentle smile and the squeeze to your hand slowed you down.

It was your first time being this close to him, watching his beautiful blue eyes twinkle in the sun. The eye-contact lingered.

“Coming!” A voice called from inside as footsteps approached.

“Show time,” he muttered close to your ear.

When Bella swung the door open, she looked at Keegan, then you and back to him, eyes wide. You bit back a smirk at the way she couldn’t hide her surprise.

“Hi, I’m Keegan. You must be Bella. Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand.

She blinked before taking it. She swallowed and took another second before turning to you. “I thought you were joking about bringing someone.”

He chuckled. “Well, here I am in the flesh. Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all.” She stepped aside. “Please come in.”

He followed close behind you as the three of you made your way past the kitchen. You hugged your mum and aunt before introducing him.

“From us. Thanks for having me, ma’am.” He handed your aunt the wines and gave your mum a squeeze.

You went to the dining room where your dad and Bella’s chatted. Keegan addressed them with sir and exchanged pleasantries before you followed your cousin back to the kitchen. You didn’t miss how the table was only set for six.

She linked arms with you, eyes narrowed. “Not bad,” she muttered.

I know. “Ryan’s not joining?”

“We broke up last month.”

You stopped to look at her, brows furrowed. “No- what happened?” You genuinely thought they were going to last.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not sad about it.” She swatted her manicured hand in dismissal.

“Are you… Sure you’re okay? You seemed happy with him.”

“I am. I guess the honeymoon period wore off, that’s all,” she said with a shrug. “Anyway, for my birthday, he got me a Dyson Air Wrap gift set, but it’s so not in my colour.” She shook her head and continued to walk, tugging you along. “He should have known. How did he think I was going to like it?”

You blinked. You’d appreciate even a quarter of a Dyson Air Wrap, but you knew it was another one of her humble brags. You let her have her moment.

Your mum laughed with her sister over tea. They didn’t get to see each other often and you thought it was worth the hassle of enduring Bella that day to see her like so. She gave you a pleased look and a thumbs up as you grabbed extra tableware and you had to stifle a giggle.

Keegan flashed you a smile when you entered the room to set the table for him. Making conversation with your dad and uncle, he looked like he fit right in.

Lunch began shortly and the chatter built as the wine poured. Keegan sat next to you and helped you with the food before himself. He put his hand over yours when you mouthed ‘thanks’.

“I heard you moved to a new apartment? How’s it been?” your aunt asked.

“I did. I love it there.” You turned to Keegan, smile blossoming on your lips. “Actually, that’s how we met. He’s my neighbour.”

She cooed. “How sweet! Looks like you settled right in then.”

“How big is your apartment? Mine is huge. It’s such a pain to clean,” Bella said offhandedly.

You blinked. Your aunt turned to her with furrowed brows.

“How’s the new job so far, kid?” your dad asked. “I hope better than the last.”

Before you could answer, Bella interjected. “Oh, did I tell you I’m getting promoted next month? They’re giving me my own office too.”

The table fell silent. After a beat you said, “That’s great. I hope you like the new office.”

“Of course! The city view is gorgeous. I’m sure you’ve never seen-“

“How’s your new job? Tell us,” Keegan said.

You gave him a small smile before turning to your dad again.

After lunch, the seven of you moved to the living room for the gift exchange. Keegan didn’t leave your side, a hand on your knee as you unwrapped your gifts.

You got your parents a couple’s spa trip, a tea set and a board game for your aunt and uncle, and a perfume for Bella. In turn, you received a pretty charm bracelet from your parents and a nice pair of headphones from Bella’s, in your favourite colour too. You gave each of them a squeeze for the gift.

As Keegan helped you put the bracelet on, you ignored Bella when she asked what brand it was, simply thankful she didn’t even comment on the perfume. Next, you tore open the envelope from her. You didn’t expect much, but it definitely wasn’t the gift card to the hairdresser and the little note that it came with.

Hopefully you can fix your hair <3

You froze and Keegan leaned over to read the card in your hand.

“I’m sorry, is there something wrong with her hair?” he narrowed his eyes at her.

She shrugged. “Oh, it’s just dry, that’s all. Can’t you see?”

Your aunt gave her a disapproving look, but she wasn’t looking.

“I don’t think there’s anything that needs fixing,” he said firmly, his stare unwavering. “Her hair’s perfectly fine.”

Before Bella could respond, with a wobble in your voice, you excused yourself to the kitchen. Your mum quickly followed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry for making you come, sweetie,” she said, stroking your back. “I know you two don’t really get along.”

“It’s not your fault, mum.” You frowned as you poured yourself a glass of wine and downed it. “She can say whatever she wants. I shouldn’t care what she thinks of my hair, or my apartment, or my job.”

“Maybe she’s a bit envious today. I mean, you’re the one with the nice boy with you.” She smiled playfully. “You should see the way she keeps stealing glances at him. Too bad he’s too busy staring at you to notice.”

You let out a small laugh.

“That’s my girl.” She gave you a hug. “I like that he stood up for you. It’s the only way my daughter deserves to be treated.”

You smiled against her shoulder and the both of you stayed in the embrace for a bit longer.

The living room was tense when you returned to your seat next to Keegan. He gave you a sympathetic look as he rubbed your arm. Bella didn’t meet your eyes, her arms crossed over her chest.

While you were gone, her mum told Bella off, and it was hard for Keegan to bite back his laugh as she sulked and pouted.

Your aunt broke the silence by suggesting a few photos by the Christmas tree before you left. He volunteered, making sure you looked perfect in them.

You bade your goodbyes and once again gave your aunt a hug. You left the damned gift card on the couch and took Keegan’s arm to the car. He had noticed you were more smiley than before the incident.

You groaned when he drove off. “Now you know why I was gonna bail.” You slumped over, looking out the window.

“I’m sorry about what happened."

“M’glad you’re with me. Would’a been pathetic going home alone and pissed.”

“But the rest of your family’s very nice. I actually had a nice time.”

”Yeah? But how much of that was fake?”

“What?” He took a quick glance at you.

“Y’know, the hand holding, standing up for me.”

“None. Nothing I did was fake.”

“You sure?”

He laughed. “Were you drinking? In the kitchen?”

“Well, yes,” you hesitated. “How’d you know?”

He pulled over and turned to you. “If I didn’t like you I wouldn’t have come.”

“Don’t joke around now.” Your eyes narrowed.

“I’m not.” He took your hand, lips quirked into a small smile. “Sometimes I linger around at my door so I can catch you, but I never do because I come home too late.”

Your frown remained and his heart raced as the silence ensued. Shit, he must have read the room wrong. How much of this would you remember?

“You should talk more,” you finally said. “Your voice is perfection, addicting.”

He let out a relieved chuckle, thumb grazing over your knuckles. “I sound that good?”

You shrugged, flashing him a playful smile.

“Can’t help thinking had I been more forward from the start, maybe I wouldn’t just be ‘someone you’re taking’ today.”

“There’s next year, no?”

He held your gaze. “If you were sober, I’d ask if I could kiss you.”

“Why not now?”

“I want you to remember, so I’ll wait until we get home.”

“That’s a shame, but at least the wine will make your driving somewhat bearable.”

He laughed, pressing your hand to his lips. “You better sober up fast, because I’ve been waiting too long.”

More Keegan: second chance on Tinder, werewolf AU

@glitterypirateduck @sofasoap @macravishedbymactavish @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @tiredmetalenthusiast @caramlizedtomatoes @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats @mysticslumber @tipsykeen

[skzstannie]

"Let the memory-making commence"

SKZ -> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: fluff wc: ~2100 cw: none :) summary: After an emotional night, the boys cheer you up and try to give you something to look forward to surrounding the holidays again.

Here's Part 2 to "We'd never want you to struggle alone" Alsooo, I hit 100 followers a couple days ago, so THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Reblogs are more than appreciated!

Happy Scrolling! || Masterlist

Previously:

You all lay in each other's arms, and you feel incredibly comfortable and safe. Chan's the first to break the silence, "We have five days left until Christmas. What do you say we make some new Christmas traditions? We don't want to replace what you used to have, and you’re entitled to spend your Christmas season as you'd like. But, if you'll let us, we’ll give you something to look forward to about the holidays again. Please?" The guys are all looking at you now, each of them displaying a face that could rival a sad puppy.

You realize now that there's nothing to be scared of. These are your best friends you're talking about, who want nothing but to shower you in love and happiness.

"I'd love that."

So, the guys set out on their mission early the next morning, figuring they better start as soon as possible. After all, they had so many fun things they wanted to do with you before Christmas Day.

You were abruptly brought out of your peaceful slumber from an added weight landing atop your stomach. You startle, opening your eyes to be met with Hyunjin’s hair brushing up against your cheeks. You try to push him off you, holding up your title of being a grumpy morning person, but he won’t budge.

“Get up!” he whines, shaking your shoulders. “It’s already 8:30, and we can’t just let you sleep all day!”

“I’m not asking to sleep all day. I’m asking to sleep until 10, now please get off,” you struggle some more, pushing with all your might. You quickly give up though, finding your attempts futile against Hyunjin’s size and stubbornness.

“No can do, up and at ‘em sunshine!” he grips your blankets and whips them off you in a flash, leaving you shivering from the cold temperature of your room. He’s quick to throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and he begins to make his way out of your room.

Your fists pound on his back, your only desire to go lay back down in your warm bed. This doesn’t deter him however, so you give him a nice firm smack to his butt, making him yelp. You swiftly wrap your arms around his waist as he lets you slip a little off his shoulder.

“Hwang Hyunjin don’t you drop me!” you yell, holding onto him for dear life.

“I won’t, I won’t. That just hurt really bad, you little menace!” He puts you down once you’ve arrived in the kitchen, and his hands immediately reach back to massage his poor bum.

“Well, that wouldn’t have been necessary if you’d have let me sleep another hour,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Ok, no more Ms. Grumpy Pants, I only wanna make cookies with Ms. Sunshine, so if you could please find out where she is, that'd be great,” he retorts, a sarcastic smile taking over his features.

You roll your eyes but give in, allowing your lips to curve up into a genuine smile.

Hyunjin starts to gather the ingredients for making cookies, slamming cupboards left and right. As you busy yourself doing the same, you look up towards the kitchen entryway upon hearing some ruckus from the hallway. Seungmin and Felix practically bounce into the kitchen, looking way too excited for 8:30 in the morning.

Seungmin makes his way over to you, holding an extra apron that he plops over your head, tying it loosely around your waist. “Thanks Minnie,” you tell him, turning around to give his arm a gentle pat.

“Alright, let the memory-making commence,” Felix claps his hands and giving them a quick wash in the sink, reaching for a stainless steel bowl Hyunjin had set on the counter. “If we wait too much longer, everybody else will get up and crash our cookie making party.”

All was going smoothly, the four of you working together and following a recipe Felix had printed out, until Seungmin got a little antsy and decided to flick Hyunjin in the forehead with a flour-covered finger.

Seungmin laughs at seeing Hyunjin’s expression. “Flour boy,” he calls Hyunjin, breaking out in even more giggles.

In retaliation, Hyunjin grabs a fistful of flour and launches it at Seungmin’s face, leaving the poor boy coughing.

Of course, all hell breaks loose after that, and by the end of your food fight, all four of you end up absolutely covered in flour with a single egg plastered against the fridge door.

You guys managed to finish the cookies, having barely enough flour to make the batches. Once they’ve gone in the oven, the four of you decide to go shower and get cleaned up while they bake.

All the other guys have woken up by the time you’re finished with your shower. They’re all sat around the kitchen, the aroma from the cookies no doubt drawing them in. Chan goes over the plans for today, and you smile at his thoughtfulness. After breakfast- a.k.a Christmas cookies- you’re all going to go sledding, then come back to the dorms for dinner and a Christmas movie marathon.

After you’ve all eaten one too many cookies, everyone goes to get dressed for your first group activity of the day: sledding.

You realize you don’t have any appropriate clothing for sledding, the snow sure to seep through the nice coat you have, so you ask Seungmin if he has any extra garments that'll keep you warmer.

"Yea, let me find some really quick," he responds, diving deep into his well-organized closet. He comes up with two pairs of gloves, one slimmer and one thicker, a thermal, long sleeved turtle neck, a hoodie, and a huge winter coat.

"All of this will not fit on my body at once, Seungmin," you comment exasperatedly, overwhelmed by the weight of the clothes he just threw in your arms.

"Yes they will, and you will be warm. Go get dressed, we're leaving in a few minutes," he dismisses your concerns, leaving no room for discussion. He gives you a light push out of his room so he could get himself dressed and shuts the door in your face.

"Thanks!" you shout through the door, heading back to your room to layer up.

After putting on all the clothes Seungmin gave you, you feel like a marshmallow. A big puff ball, if you will.

You walk to the living room where everyone is waiting for you, ready to complain about how you are not going out in public like this.

They are quick to rebut, telling you how adorable you look while pulling you out the front door towards the readied van in the parking lot.

The drive is uncomfortable, all your winter gear making you all hot, everyone fitting a little tighter in their seats than normal. The ride is short, though, only about 10 minutes before you're all allowed freedom of the outside once again.

You let out a small chuckle upon seeing the hill you'll be sledding down. It's small, no taller than 20 feet, but the guys assure you it'll still be fun. Upon some further digging, you find out you're manager requested you partake in absolutely zero dangerous activities during your day off, and this is all the guys could convince him of.

You guys make your way up the hill, Jeongin and Felix dragging the sleds up. To make things more interesting, everyone decides two people will race down the hill at the same time, and the winner will be decided tournament-style.

Chan and Hyunjin go first, and Hyunjin wins by just a few feet. Next is Felix and Minho, and Minho pulls out ahead. Seungmin and Changbin go next, and Changbin wins by default because Seungmin wiped out about half way down the hill. You and Jeongin, being the maknaes, decide to team up against everyone else and ride together. Of course, this doesn't go without complaints from the rest of the members, Hyunjin giving you guys the nastiest side eye he could muster. The maknaes come out on top, beating Jisung by a landslide. Maybe it's because your sled had twice as much weight on it, or maybe it's because you guys are just better; it's up for debate.

By the end of the day, you and Jeongin reign champions. You all continue to sled for a while longer, and eventually your peaceful sledding session turned into a brutal snowball fight.

The culprit of the snowball fight was Minho, deciding it'd be fun to shove a handful of snow down Jisung's jacket. This of course lead to the development of two teams, Maknae line versus Hyung line.

You guys pelt the oldies for a few minutes, obviously gaining the upper-hand once your makeshift snow fort was built, courtesy of Felix and Jisung. However, you guys surrender once Jeongin is captured and threatened with handfuls of snow down his pants.

Once arriving at home, hot showers are in need, all your fingers and toes frozen to the bone. You get dressed in your coziest pyjamas, accompanied by a big hoodie and fluffy socks.

Chan takes it upon himself to order food in for everyone, and you all thank him before deciding on which Christmas movie to watch.

You reveal that one of your favorites used to be How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the Jim Carrey version, and everyone agrees to start with that one.

Your food arrives about a third of the way into the movie, and you all indulge on the much needed meal. You have some more Christmas cookies for dessert, and by the time you're finished with the food, the movie is over.

You all make light fun of Hyunjin for crying over the ending, but allow him to choose the next movie to try and put a stop to his dramatics. He chooses National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, and you're thankful for another comedy.

While the day has been quite fun, watching movies isn't as thought-provoking as a snowball fight, allowing some of your anxieties and negative thoughts to creep into the back of your mind.

You miss your family. You miss the way your grandma used to sit and listen to all your school drama and the way she'd gasp when you'd tell her what your best friend had done for a boy. You miss the way your father used to buy you a pair of earrings every year for Christmas. You still had every pair, your first being cute little bunny studs, and your last being a beautiful pair of Sterling Silver hoops. You miss your grandfather's sarcastic remarks; your mom found them insulting but you always thought they were funny. You miss your mom. Everything about her- her home cooking, her hugs, the way she'd always know what to put in your stocking.

You know now, after today, that it's okay to miss those things. You're supposed to miss your loved ones. However, it is not okay to live in the past and despise change. Your mom would've wanted you to celebrate Christmas with a family as loving as the one you have here surrounding you. You know she would've loved your members, every single one of them.

She would've loved the way I.N was your partner in crime in life, never backing down when you ask him if he wants to prank Chan with you. She would've loved the way Seungmin acted like your older brother, teasing you every chance he gets. She would've loved how happy Felix is, always acting as your light in the darkness. She would've been proud of Han for fighting through his anxiety and how he helped you with yours, never letting you feel alone. Your mom would've loved Hyunjin's art, the way he paints his soul on paper with a singular brush. Your mom would've been impressed by Changbin's health journey and motivation, and she probably would've secretly convinced him to drag you to the gym with him. Your mom would've admired Minho's gentleness towards animals and his love for his cats. Lastly, your mom would've loved the way Chan takes care of you, always making sure you're happy and well.

Thinking back to yesterday and how thoughtful and caring everyone had been, you decide to tell them your creeping thoughts. They, of course, comfort you, Changbin pulling you closer from your spot between him and Minho on the couch. They ask if you want to elaborate on your feelings, but you tell them no. It had been such a fun day, and for the sake of your mental health, you choose to try and busy your mind with the plot of the movie.

This works in your favor, and you’re able to replace your thoughts with laughter. Towards the end of the film, Changbin's comforting hold has begun to lull you to sleep, too comfortable and warm to keep your eyes open any longer.

"Thank you guys for such an amazing day. I had a lot of fun," you mumble into Changbin's shoulder, pulling everyone away from the movie for a second.

You hear a chorus of coos and whispered affirmations before you officially let sleep takeover your restless mind and body.

[hauntedraggedyanne]

MORE small character flaws

Please don’t take these as like PURE EVIL, they’re just little things to foreshadow bigger issues

—Doesn’t turn their blinker on when driving (or just drives horribly in general)

—“Take a break” for them means 5-8 weeks of doing nothing and telling absolutely NOBODY about this break

—‘No’ does not mean ‘no’, it means a challenge

—Every time there’s a holiday/birthday and the characters VERY CLEARLY tell them what hey want, they go out of their way to NOT GET IT and only get what THEY think the character wants.

(Okay that’s personal but it can foreshadow the characters not actually knowing each other as well as they think they do)

—Never. I mean NEVER. doing group work and then insisting to the teacher they were the ‘leader’ of the group. There’s no excuse.

—Turns every fight physical

—Tries to talk out everything even when it’s WAY too late for that and then acts surprised when the cannibal monster that ate one of their other friends decides to eat them next.

—One of those extreme musician stans. That’s it. I’m just very scared of them.

(If you see any traits that just so happen to go in hand with something you do, I am so sorry I’m not trying to say anything. You’re probably not evil)

[szasfuckingwife]

thinking about widowed!reader struggling after Johnny’s untimely death. And trust me when I say it was really untimely.

You’d nearly saved up enough money to move from your (not-too-bad) high end apartment to a countryside house, You were days away from your 3rd year anniversary and then there was the whole daughter situation.

As in, the daughter you both raised. The very same daughter he promised he’d return too after this mission.

It almost makes you chuckle. Especially when watching his video logs. Some of them he’s just talking to himself, same old Johnny talking about how the clouds seem slightly greyer for a day in June. Or one where he’s sat on the balcony of your old apartment sipping a latte.

Then you find the one of him after you told him you were pregnant. It’s clear that it was midnight, the sky looks pitch black, you had to have been asleep. You hold your breath as you see him adjust the camera and sit on the toilet seat.

“Where do I even start?” He says to the lens, his thick accent echoing through the bathroom. Johnny’s eyes look a bit teary but he clears his throat anyway.

“Y/N’s just told me some news. Some life changing news actually..” He sighs. “And you know, I’m happy. Who wouldn’t be, it’s a great thing.”

He continued, “But I’m scared. I’m not worthy of her, let alone a baby. I dunno…The kid may hate me. I’m gonna be away on these crap missions, away from their mum…It’ll be rough.”

You watch as he lets out a tired groan. He’s so beautiful, the thought crosses your mind. You’ve never not been lost in his eyes, “I hope it’s a girl. Too many lads in our family. I’ll be breaking a curse. And I know Y/n will be a great mum. That’s what soothes me.”

A tear escapes your eye before the next video plays automatically. The clip shows Johnny with your baby girl on his chest. Moments of caring for her after the premature birth flashes in your mind as you watch him stroke her back.

She’s sleeping snug on his chest as he records her. “She sleeps like her mum.” He whispers, making sure the bass in his voice doesn’t wake her up. Johnny was thoughtful like that. “So peaceful, aren’t you, bonnie?”

He places a kiss on her forehead which causes her to stir lightly, “No no no! Don’t wake up…If your mum knew you weren’t in your crib because of me, she’ll kill me.”

But much to Johnny’s dismay, his baby girl begins to cry and it is loud. A laugh escapes your lips as the video ends abruptly.

A couple of more videos play, one from your daughter’s first birthday, to him secretly filming the engagement ring next to you whilst you were sleeping to honeymoon vlogs. It felt like a trip down memory lane.

But then a particular video began to play.

It was the Cyprus holiday. You remember that day because your daughter begged to go one the beach as you were leaving the next day to return to the UK. Even more bittersweet as Johnny left for another mission when you returned.

The video starts and Johnny is sat on the sand in his trunks, sun glasses resting on his head, “My girls are playing in the water and I am far too tired to join them.”

“Daddy! Look!” Her angelic, tiny voice shouts and Johnny turns the camera to her. Swiftly, she picks up a bucket of water and splashes it on Johnny’s toes. “You devil! Come here you-”

The sound of Johnny’s teasing along with your child’s giggles earns another tear. But you don’t notice it. You smile.

And then Johnny sits back down and points the camera at you, who is also in the water. Against the blushing sky, your silhouette is immediately the focus of the video.

“My beautiful wife…She’s so pretty..” He sighs. The compliments earns a smile from your lips.

“Look at that ass. Wow, that’s all me!” He chuckles, and so do you. “We might have a second one on the way sooner rather than later.”

Your husband turns the camera back to him, “Well, bye for now, I’m gonna go spend time with my family.”

The camera is propped up against some object as Johnny runs up to you and picks you up, peppering you with kisses before his daughter begs for her dad to prop her on his shoulders.

From another pair of eyes, they’d see the perfect family, or the goal. But your eyes won’t ever be the same after seeing his autopsy, his funeral, his badge.

But you smile regardless. Because he’s there.

He always will be.

BONUS:

“Hey, dad…” She whispers, staring at the grey headstone. The tulips rests next to his name as the sun shines down on her. It’s quiet, like how mornings with her did used to be.

She hasn’t visited his grave in years, not coming to terms with him really being gone. But with her wedding quickly approaching, all that was on her mind was some one on one time with her daddy.

“You would like him, dad. He’s great. Mum loves him because he can cook..” A chuckle leaves her lips, “Mum says that his carbonara may be a little better than yours but…I never trued yours so I can’t compare…”

Her voice dies down as she continues. The absence of memories is what really gets to her. She should have had father days, she should of had christmases with him, she should’ve had her father/daughter dance for her wedding.

But she’ll never have that.

“Uncle Riley and Uncle Price like him…took them a while. It was a lot of questions..” She smiles reminiscing on the nearly 5hr sit down they had with her fiancé.

Unbeknownst to her, a tear left her eye. She stroked the headstone and sighed, “I’ll start to visit more, I promise. I just can’t…”

The steadiness of her voice breaks as a mini sob erupts from her, “I don’t like seeing you like this. I miss you so much, daddy.”

i remember seeing a tiktok/reel of a woman with stones that were made from her dads ashes and it made me tear up

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Nine: I'd Fall for You Twice if That's What You Wanted

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings. Sarah, Tommy, Emily, and JB unknowingly banding together for the win. Joel is his own warning. Inappropriate (or entirely appropriate?) use of a massager. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Eight | Main Masterlist

“Girl, you’ve got it baaad,” Emily teased, watching you eye your phone every five seconds. The pair of you were getting drinks at your favorite watering hole the Saturday before your first full week of officially teaching.

“I can’t help it, Em. He’s got this, like, hold over me or something,” you replied sheepishly, one hand tucking your phone away in your back pocket. You were starting to annoy yourself with how often you checked for texts from Joel.

“You’re in love, that’s what happens.” Emily shrugged and sipped at her fruity mixed drink. “How’d the holidays go?”

Your expression lit up as you told Emily about your first major holidays with the Millers. Having spent some holidays with them while you were still away at school, your dad already fit into their family dynamic seamlessly. You were a happy and much-loved addition to the festivities and there was plenty of laughter among the adults at how badly Tommy botched dinner for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. Why Joel and your dad ever let him try again after the wreck that was Thanksgiving dinner was beyond you. Thankfully, your dad saved the day both times with his unparalleled grilling skills.

“So, it’s safe to say that JB’s still happy about you and Joel being together?” Emily asked after your own laughter at recounting the mess died down.

“Is he ever,” you replied with a shake of your head. “He loves to rib Joel on making an honest woman out of me. Joel takes it in stride, but I’m kinda afraid that it’ll scare him off if my dad keeps it up.”

“Oh, please! That man is clearly head over fuckin’ heels for you. Hell, he’s already told you and JB that he loves you, he’s not goin’ anywhere!” After taking another sip of her drink, Emily shot you a pointed look. “When the hell am I gonna meet Joel, anyway? I feel like you’re actively hiding him from me.”

You stilled.

Were you doing that? You didn’t think so, not at first, but… If you were honest with yourself, there was an element of truth to Emily’s accusation.

“Shit, Em. I’m not doing it purposefully, I swear,” you replied beseechingly, pausing to figure out how to properly explain things. Finding a scratch in the tabletop suddenly fascinating, you stared at it while continuing. “I just have to share him so much already, between Sarah and my dad, even his brother – not that I begrudge him spending time with any of them, especially Sarah! It’s just… when I have time with him, I want to keep him to myself. You know what I mean?”

God, that made you sound so selfish. You looked up to find Emily grinning at you.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“I’ve never seen you so in love. It looks good on you.” Emily clinked her now empty glass against your half-full one. “Just promise me that I’ll get to meet him soon. We could do a double date or something, so it doesn’t take away too much of your precious alone time.”

Over another round of drinks, you made plans for a few Fridays from now, quietly hoping Joel wouldn’t mind.

Heading home, you longed to see Joel, but it was late, and he was spending time with Sarah. He went to great lengths to make sure his daughter did not feel left out or neglected while the two of you explored your relationship, setting aside time for just the two of them to hang out. You loved that about him and knew how important that quality time was for Sarah. Besides, you planned to head over there tomorrow to get a little quality time of your own ahead of the busy week ahead.

In the morning, you slept in and lazed around the house for a while, taking the opportunity to relax and ease into your day while your dad puttered around until mid-day. You hadn’t heard from Joel, but that didn’t bother you – he knew you planned to come over. Around one o’clock, you headed over to the Millers, picking up some pizza and beer on the way.  

Pulling up in front of the house, you found your usual spot in the driveway taken by your dad’s truck while Tommy’s truck blocked the remaining space. With a huff you parked along the curb. You would have ordered more pizza if you knew everyone would be here.

“Howdy boys,” you greeted as you walked in. “I come bearing pizza and beer, though I fear we’ll need lots more with this crew.”

Only one set of eyes turned away from the football game playing on TV as they all greet you in return. Getting up from his beloved corner spot on the couch, Joel took the pizza and beer from your hands and placed them on the coffee table before pulling you into the kitchen for a proper greeting.

“Hi darlin’, I’ve missed you,” Joel murmured, his voice already raspy from yelling at the TV. He pulled you close until your bodies were flush together and kissed you deeply. Like a magnet, your fingers threaded through his messy curls, tugging gently as he nibbled your bottom lip.

“Mmm, I missed you, too, handsome. Didn’t know you were having company.”

Joel flashed his big cow eyes at you, eyebrows pinched together regretfully. “’M sorry, baby. I didn’t know they were coming by to watch the game ‘til they got here. Apparently, my TV is the best, so here they are. Hope that’s ok. I’ll kick ‘em right the hell out if you want me to.”

The thought did cross your mind.

“Nah, enjoy the game with the boys. I’ll sit with you guys for a bit then hang with Sarah until they leave.” Still wrapped in each other’s arms, you nuzzled the tanned skin of Joel’s neck and he hummed.

“You gonna stay over?”

You shouldn’t, not on a school night – your first as a bona fide teacher – but you had so little time together. “Sure. Just don’t keep me up too late, Mister. Those kids are exhausting, and I need my energy for the first day.”

“Miller! Stop neckin’ with my daughter and get your ass out here!” your dad’s voice bellowed through the house, causing the two of you to spring apart.

“Jesus, Dad,” you sighed, pecking Joel on the lips one last time before following him out to the living room. When would the game be over?

Surprisingly, you enjoyed the time watching the game with everyone. Even Sarah came down to join you all at half-time, book in hand, and sat between you and Joel reading. It was a lovely afternoon and a lovelier night as Joel held you in his arms, whispering words of praise into your hair until you fell into a deep slumber.

Your first week of teaching passed in a blur. After a month of assisting the prior teacher before his official retirement, the students knew you and respected your authority, setting the stage for an overall lovely experience. You started off with earth science lessons and most of the kids were engaged and eager to learn. Of course, you had a few little challenges with difficult students testing their boundaries, but you felt good about the way you handled each situation.

You stayed later after the students were dismissed, using the time to organize the room to your liking and get the lesson plans in order. Sarah perched at one of the long wooden tables working on her homework while you completed your tasks. The pattern offered you and Sarah some quality time together and the young girl found great enjoyment in putting you on the spot, especially when her dad was the topic at hand.

“JB keeps telling dad he needs to marry you,” Sarah blurted randomly Friday afternoon. “Do you want to?”

Staring at her wide-eyed, unsure what to say, you merely shrugged. Why was everyone so focused on the two of you getting married? You only started dating a few months ago!

Tilting her head to the side with a little smirk, Sarah replied, “That’s not a ‘no’.”

She was getting to be as bad as your dad and Tommy.

“You could be my stepmom! I always wanted one since I didn’t get to have a regular mom.”

Despite Sarah’s cheerfulness at the idea, your heart ached for all the real mom-related experiences she didn’t get to have. You knew exactly how that felt. If marrying Joel wasn’t already something you hoped for in the future, it would be after hearing Sarah expressing her desire for a stepmom, for you as a stepmom.

Sarah kept talking, while you lost yourself in thought.

Would you be a good stepmom?

God, you hoped so.

You never had one, JB chose to never get too serious with anyone after your mom, but you heard enough horror stories from your friends about their own stepmoms through the years. It sounded like a thankless job. But all the people you knew with stepparents had both birth parents still in their lives, so maybe your experience would be different.

The late bell chimed, drawing you out of your ever-spiraling thoughts.

“Come on, nugget. Let’s get you home,” you said, pushing thoughts of marriage and step parenthood to the farthest recesses of your mind.

“If you’re not gonna marry my dad, could you at least move in with us? It would be so great if you lived with us!”

Jesus fucking Christ in a handbasket. This kid sure knew how to keep you on your toes.

Leaning over the bar top with hunched shoulders and an aching back, Joel picked at the label on the beer bottle. He didn’t often visit the bar after work, not since Sarah came into his life, but he finally had some extra money and felt like treating himself. You stopped letting him pay you months ago, when the two of you became more to each other than just babysitter and boss, and he stashed that money away each week, saving it for what he didn’t know.

At his side, Tommy carried on about some chick he met a few weeks ago. A pretty attorney who was way out of his league and already turned him down twice. Like a dog with a bone, Tommy showed no signs of giving up yet.

“You better be careful, brother. She may get a restraining order against you if you don’t take it easy,” Joel said, voice a rich rumble.

Tommy waved him off with a chortle. “Oh please. She’s loving it. Chicks like that like being pursued.”

“If you say so.” Joel didn’t know this woman or what she liked, but he knew for a fact that you would hate it if a guy relentlessly pursued you after turning him down, not once, but twice. He smiled at the thought of you kicking a guy like that in the fucking balls to prove that you were very much not interested.

He full on laughed at the thought of you kicking his little brother in the balls, causing Tommy to glance sideways at him.

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“Nothin’,” Joel grumbled, clearing his throat. Thoughts of you continued to invade his mind, just like they always did. You were always on his mind, and he loved it. If only you were always in his bed… Joel cleared his throat. “Hey, uh. How do you know if it’s too early to ask a girl to move in?”

Tommy groaned. “Why you always askin’ me this shit? How am I supposed to know? I have less actual relationship experience than you do.”

“Who else am I supposed to ask, huh? JB? Don’t imagine that’d go over too well,” Joel replied with a defeated shrug, but Tommy conceded the point.

“You need more friends, man.” Clearing his throat, Tommy gave it a moment’s thought. “Well, the way I see it, you love her, and she loves you, everyone knows it, and JB and Sarah are both happy for the two of you. Moving in together seems like the logical next step, right?”

Joel nodded, still uncertain.

“Only the two of you can know if the pace is right. Seems to me like you both waited long enough for the right one to come along. You’ve both been through some shit, why waste any more time?”

Damn, when did his little brother become so insightful?

“Alright, I get your point. Do you think she’ll say yes if I ask?” As secure as he was in your love for each other, Joel still floundered a bit at each new step in the relationship department.

“I dunno, brother. You’re just gonna have to grow a pair and find out.”

“Fuckin’ grow a pair,” Joel grumbled, punching Tommy in the arm, hard.

The pair bickered through another round, like brothers do, before calling it an evening. Eager to see you and Sarah, Joel didn’t want to waste away the evening in the bar with Tommy. As they walked out to their trucks, Tommy stopped Joel with a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen, brother. In all seriousness, I think she’ll say yes, so just ask, ok?”

Joel nodded his thanks and confirmed plans for watching the game at his place on Sunday, before climbing into his truck. The trip home didn’t take long, and for that Joel was grateful. His back ached after a busy week of hard labor followed by an hour sitting hunched over the bar. He’d kill for a massage.

The house was quiet when he walked in, no sign of you or Sarah on the ground floor. Kicking off his work boots and dropping the truck keys onto the hook near the door, Joel slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Light flooded into the hall from Sarah’s bedroom, the sound of giggles and low voices echoing in the air. He moved slowly, quietly, until he could just peek around the door jamb. You sat on Sarah’s bed, the little girl perched in front of you, as you braided her wiry curls.

The sight melted Joel’s insides into a gooey puddle.

This. This was exactly what he wanted to come home to everyday.

He had to ask you to move in.

Just as he straightened up with a silent groan, ready to enter the room, Sarah’s sweet little voice left him frozen in place.

“I think you’d make the best stepmom.”

“This again,” you griped playfully. “You do, huh? Why?”

Was this something Sarah brought up before? Joel held his breath, waiting for Sarah’s response.

“Because you love my dad and you love me, you’re always kind even when things go wrong, you’re smart, and you like spending time with me. But most of all, because you do the things a mom does even though you’re not my mom and you don’t have to.”

He caught your gasp even though you tried to hide it from Sarah. You were as affected by Sarah’s heartfelt, innocent confession as he was. His adorable, sweet little girl knew you’d make a great stepmom and he agreed with all her reasons. If possible, he fell further in love with you in that moment after seeing you through his daughter’s eyes.

“Well, you’re right, nugget. I do love you and your dad, and I hope that one day, when the time is right, I can be your stepmom. Until then, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing, ok? I’ll still love you to pieces even without the official title.”

You choked out the words, on the verge of tears, and Joel felt his own eyes begin to water. Unable to bear it any longer, he swept through the doorway and pulled you both against his chest in a big bear hug. His precious girls. He loved you both more than words could express.

“Daddy! You’re squeezing too tight! Imma burst!” Sarah shrieked with laughter as he tossed her onto the bed and began tickling her with one hand, his other still holding your close.

“Did you…” Your eyes searched his, a hint of worry hiding in their depths, and Joel grinned, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I heard it all,” Joel confirmed, confidence bolstered knowing you wanted to marry him at some point. Conveying every feeling held in his heart through his eyes, he added, “Move in with us. Please.”

Your eyes flicked back and forth between his, searching for confirmation. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, darlin’.”

The three of you celebrated with ice cream after you agreed to move in with them before putting Sarah to bed. By then, Joel’s back ached something fierce and you offered to use the message gun he forgot he had.

“Lay face down on the bed, my love,” you directed, watching with adoration as he tugged the shirt over his head, jeans hanging low on his hips. The muscles rippled in his arms and back as he settled on the soft mattress. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Joel murmured, huffing when you climbed over him to straddle his ass.

Turning on the massage gun, you put it on the middle setting and pressed the ball against the flesh of his traps. Even through the device, you could feel how tight those muscles were. It must be where he held his tension. Over the next half hour, you worked the massager over his back, soaking in the grunts that bordered on pain and relief. Somewhere along the way, the groans turned pleasurable, and Joel rolled onto his back, leaving you to straddle his thighs as the bulge in his jeans grew.

Joel’s hands moved to undo the button on his jeans, but you batted his hand away with a mischievous grin. With wide, wondrous eyes, he watched you adjust the setting on the massager and run it along the seam of his pants.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed, cock twitching with interest at the vibration. “Don’t stop.”

Hands gripping your hips, he bucked up into the delightful buzz of the massager, a steady stream of moans falling from his lips as the vibrations spread from his balls upwards to the head of his cock. Fuck, if it felt that good through his jeans, how good would it feel directly on his cock?

“Do you want me to increase the speed setting?” you purred, pressing the massager harder against him.

“Oh God, fuck. Yes… ungh. Please.” The words fell from his lips in a series of whimpers as you adjusted the settings. Within moments, he moaned a bit too loudly and came in his pants. You didn’t let up on the pressure though, the vibration drawing out his orgasm until every last drop of his load was blown and his body nearly convulsed with the overstimulation.

Chest heaving, he watched you switch off the massager and run your fingers along the large wet spot on his jeans, his cock twitching tiredly in response.

“That was fucking sexy,” you murmured, enthralled with the mess you just made of him.

“Yeah? Lemme see that thing. Think it’s my turn now, pretty girl.”

Tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx

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[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 11

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

A/N: please forgive me for taking so long to post the next part, I took a little holiday and inspiration seemed to take a break from me 🤭 but here it is, yes I know it was slow burn… but will things change from now on?

“Mr. Shelby, you can’t go in there.” A man wearing a white robe stopped him.

Tommy looked down at the man’s hand, so close to his chest blocking him further access but not touching him yet.

“The fuc-“ Tommy was ready to start a fight, but Polly’s arm blocked him.

“Thomas, come with me.” She instructed firmly. “Let them take care of her.”

Reluctantly, he walked along the hall, dragging his feet with his head hanging low. Feeling so lost, helpless.

For a brief instant his eyes fixed on Y/N’s grandma and he froze. What was he supposed to tell her? He had failed her, he didn’t take care of Y/N and now her and the baby’s life were at risk.

“What happened?” It was Y/N’s mother voice, as she entered the hospital waiting room, she was wearing her nightgown with a coat on top of it.

Y/N’s grandma was about to explain her when she found Tommy’s eyes fixed on her.

“You.” She spat and launched at him directly, not caring that she was in a hospital.

Tommy lost his balance for a brief instant and he was forced to take a step back while Y/N’s mother discharged all her fury against him.

“You’ll be responsible if anything bad happens to Y/N.”

A nurse tried to grab her arms, Polly somehow managed to get in the middle too… all while Tommy saw red.

“Now it’s my fault eh?! Where were you when she begged for help? What did you do?” His rose his voice, losing control so fast as his heart pounded in his chest.

He rarely allowed any emotions show, but he couldn’t stop himself right there.

Of course he already felt guilty and regretted risking Y/N’s life, but the last thing he needed now was having her mother blaming him.

Someone in the room demanded silence and ordered only family members could stay. Tommy couldn’t take it anymore and he stormed off, walking along the corridor his firm steps could be heard in the distance.

It was pouring raining again but as he looked down, he noticed the blood that had dried in his hands and shirt. Y/N’s blood. In a split second, he was emptying the content of his stomach into the bushes, the realization hitting him hard.

Someone tried to kill him that night and unfortunately Y/N got the bullet instead. His ears were ringing non stop.

And for the first time in a very long time, he felt scared. Terrified, actually that something terrible could happen to Y/N and her baby. He should be the one getting shot, not her.

Straightening his back, he noticed Y/N’s grandma was standing there, waiting for him.

(End of flashback)

He snapped back into reality as Polly placed her hand on his shoulder. It had only been a minute or two since he shouted at John for questioning his orders and he was doing his best to regain composure, he felt frustrated and so angry with himself and deep down he knew he wasn’t at his best snapping at everyone at the slightest thing. Memories of what happened that night still haunting him day and night, if he could, he would have switched places with Y/N in a heartbeat.

He needed them to do what was on their lists.

“I’m going to the hospital, if something comes up-“

Tommy began to say, but his aunt interrupted him. “Go, go I’ll take care of everything.”

Polly fixed her eyes on her nephew, the explosive anger scene that unfolded with John a moment ago and had Tommy flustered and shouting was now gone, instead she could only see a defeated man. Guilt was eating him alive.

The fact that he was leaving his siblings to take care of the business was reason enough for her to worry about him, he never allowed anyone to lead the company.

As she watched him walk towards the door, she noticed his posture, it was nothing she had seen before… hunched shoulders, head low, the weight of the world enveloping him like a blanket. She knew he felt responsible, it didn’t matter how many times someone told him it wasn’t his fault.

She wondered for how long he’d be gone at night only to come back in the morning with his horse, then he’d go to the hospital most part of the day to follow the same routine.

Tommy walked through the cold hallway, straight to Y/N’s room not stopping to be escorted by a nurse, he was paying a huge amount of money to give her the best treatments, the best staff to stop and sign a visitor’s record.

Tommy stopped abruptly at the sight of Y/N lying in the hospital bed covered by a white sheet and the constant beeping of the machines she was connected to. His heart sank to the floor but a nurse interrupted his newest guilt road.

How unfair it was. There he was standing healthy, considering all of the shit he had done… not like Y/N, she was a great woman, strong, brave, sweet and funny, whose only mistake was giving herself to the wrong man. And she was the one with a bullet battling between life and death.

“Her mother just left a moment ago.” She informed him.

They still were in a rocky path since they arrived at the hospital, Y/N’s mother was naturally concerned about her daughter and even though she obviously blamed him, she was also thankful that Ada donated blood for the transfusion they needed since Y/N had lost so much blood.

He didn’t give the nurse a reaction, he just dragged his feet to stand closer to Y/N’s bed and waited until they were left alone.

“You’ve to wake up, so you can leave this place.” He pleaded in a whisper. “You’ve to be alright for your baby.”

Tommy didn’t notice the tears until they fell on his hands. Tentatively he reached out to touch her arm. “Please… If I could, I’d take your place.”

Y/N’s diagnose was still reserved, the doctors were able to stop the bleeding but couldn’t take the bullet out due to her pregnancy, they said it was a very high risk.

Her brain was swollen and they needed it to come down to evaluate the damage. A Doctor informed him that Y/N’s health wasn’t improving as he expected, they were waiting for her to react and wake up, but seeing her there was devastating enough. Tommy tried to encourage himself thinking that at least she wasn’t getting worse. That had to mean something.

Or at least that was what he was telling himself.

What was he supposed to do?

What was he supposed to say?

Gently, he took her hand in his. And for the first time, he felt his words were genuine, right from the heart.

“Y/N… I can’t lose you.”

His heart started beating faster inside his chest. It was all so clear now.

After spending the last couple of nights outside by himself next to the river, the thought had been running in his mind since he realized there was a possibility that Y/N couldn’t make it.

Because when you’re face to face with death, the deepest fears and feelings come to the surface to explode you right in the face.

Tommy didn’t know how or when it happened, but he was sure that he had feelings for Y/N.

There, he had admitted it to himself. Taking a shaky breath, his eyes moved from her hand to her face feeling terrified of her finding out the truth. But he only found her with her eyes closed.

“I need to know if I’m going crazy or if this is a one way feeling, Y/N.” He pleaded in a whisper. Swallowing the lump in his throat, his thumb started caressing her skin. “I think I couldn’t see it earlier because we see each other daily, and to be honest I don’t know how it happened… but when you were shot, all of these little moments we’ve had flashed through my eyes. And it was hard to admit at first because, well you know me.” He frowned and chuckled at his own words. “From all the people, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Tommy wondered why he was so fucking blind, Y/N had always been there right in front of him. How come he didn’t realize before?

For a few seconds, the only sound came from the machine connected to Y/N, beeping.

But deep down, he thought that maybe he had sabotaged himself to protect her, after all if he did something stupid he would lose the woman he had feelings for and his best friend.

“I guess it was a natural thing.” He continued. “We know each other so well… you know my flaws. You know me. Do y-you feel the same?” He asked feeling hopeful. “So I need you to wake up and tell me that I’m an idiot for not realizing sooner.”

His own feelings made him feel overwhelmed.

“I mean-”

“Good morning Sir.” A tall woman dressed in black with slender figure stood by the door, Tommy rushed to stand up immediately, giving his back at her, forcing himself to regain the composure and wipe the tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry, but I took the liberty to come and see how Miss Y/L/N is doing, I heard she was shotgun.”

Tommy frowned, he couldn’t recall who this woman was.

“Who are you?” Slowly, he moved his hand towards his gun.

“I apologize, my name is Frances.” Her eyes moved towards the bed. “She gave me a place to stay, Miss Y/N helped me when a man kicked me out of my house, she’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met, she shared her food with me and-”

Tommy raised his hand at her, confused and taken aback for her explanation. “You’re the one staying at the Institute?”

Frances shifted her weight from one feet to another, wondering if she’d get in trouble. “Yes… goodness was I trespassing?” Worry showed in her face.

Tommy’s eyes found the ceiling, he let out a loud sigh. “No, it’s just everything makes sense now.”

Another person interrupted them, but this time it was someone who Tommy knew well. “Lee-Anne, come in.”

“Hello Tommy.” She waved. “I just came from school to see her.”

Feeling overwhelmed Tommy asked her to stay with Y/N for a moment.

“I just need to be home before noon, ‘cause my Dad is arriving from his trip.” She informed him taking his previous spot next to the bed.

Oh, her Father learning about what happened to Y/N was something he didn’t want to see.

Tommy nodded. “I’ll ask Jeremiah to drive you, he was visiting some patients.”

As Y/N’s sister gave him a nod, he fixed his eyes on Frances. “Why don’t you tell me how did you and Y/N meet?” He proposed. If it was important to Y/N and she decided to help this stranger, then it was important to him.

Frances twisted her hands, nervously. “It’s a long story…”

Tommy’s eyes darted to Y/N, who was lying on the hospital bed without moving.

“Well… I’ve time.”

****

Tommy pondered on what he was about to do. Doubt flashed before his eyes for a split second.

This was a family affair that he had nothing to do with, but he owed it to Y/N. He was doing this for her. So he took a deep breath and walked towards the small unit.

After he heard Frances story, he understood everything, he totally got why Y/N decided to help the woman and bring her to the Institute but now, he was about to fix that little issue.

“Who’s it?” A raspy voice asked from behind the door.

“Peaky Blinders. Open up.” Tommy demanded, banging the door louder.

It had been a long day and he was dealing with an internal turmoil, not in the right mood to deal with an arsehole.

A man in his underwear appeared, he smelled fusty “So you think you can just take this place and steal it from a widower huh?” Tommy grabbed the man by the neck and color abandoned his face.

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”

“Frances, you knew she had nobody to step up for her.”

“A- I… her husband gave me the papers to this house.” He mumbled as two women walked by staring at the scene.

“This property belongs to Frances so pick your fucking mess up and fuck off or I’ll shot your balls.” And with that, Tommy produced the weapon from its holster as a warning.

Keeping his piercing gaze on the man, Tommy saw him moving around clumsy, and nervously, once he was dressed Tommy kicked him out. “Make sure to get back the papers of the house boys.” He instructed them at the peaky men waiting outside, then walked towards one of the parked trucks to look in the passenger seat. “You can come out now, Frances.” His eyes softened. “Just got your house back.”

“Oh! Mr. Shelby how could I ever pay you back?” She was on the edge of crying. She grabbed one of his hands and was about to kiss it in an attempt to show her gratitude, but Tommy stopped her midway.

“Would you help me with the Institute? I’ll need someone trustworthy while Y/N recovers.”

Eve before he could finish his request, Frances was already nodding. “Yes, yes of course.”

As Tommy tipped his peak cap at her and was about to leave, she suggested.

“I could take care of Miss Y/N while her family switch shifts if you agree.”

And he knew in that moment that he made the right choice.

“I appreciate it.”

Now, he had to go to the gypsy camp, to see Madame Boswell. He needed to know if the sapphire was cursed, he needed answers, he needed to know if what happened was his fault.

He needed to make peace with himself.

****

The time away from everything and everyone seemed to work for him or at least he could feel the fresh air provided him some clarity… but now he was back into his routine and trouble was always around the corner.

He needed to know what advantages John and Arthur had made at the factories but first he drove straight to the hospital, to see Y/N.

Nurses and doctors gave him long glances, trying to keep a low profile. It was giving him an uneasy feeling but he kept strolling down the hall with firm steps until Y/N’s grandmother voice called for him.

“Do you‘ve a minute?”

Tommy nodded and greeted her gently. “How’s Y/N?”

“The swelling of her brain is subsiding but nothing yet.”

“And her baby?” He asked then, processing her words.

“Stable.”

Tommy’s eyes found hers and he saw something he didn’t like.

“But there’s something I must ask you.”

“Anything.” Tommy rushed to say, regretting his eagerness for a instant. She didn’t look like asking something good.

“Y/N’s parents think it’d be for the best if you stay away from her.”

“No.” Tommy’s jaw clenched instantly, his body tensed.

“Right now she isn’t in her best condition to make her own decisions… so they asked the staff to limit visits to family only.” Y/N’s grandma explained softly, she didn’t agree but it was up to the patient closest kin.

A sudden anger invaded his body, he wanted to shout and storm into her room to prove them nobody could stop him. And he knew it wasn’t Y/N’s grandmother fault either, she was just delivering a message, yet she could tell how hard it was for him so one of her hands came to rest over his closed fist and the other one on his shoulder.

“Just while Y/N recovers darling.” She offered.

Tommy was already shaking his head. “But-“

“Do it for her, I know you care about my granddaughter, just think the pain is the small price we’ve to pay.” She added softly at the same time she realized how difficult it was for him and without hesitation she welcomed him into a warm embrace they both needed in that very moment.

“I’ll keep one of my men close by and someone I trust to take care of Y/N when some of you aren’t available.”

Y/N’s grandmother nodded. “As soon as there’s something to report I’ll ask them to let you know, now if you excuse me I’ve a prayer to say.”

Tommy stood up with her and offered his arm for support, as the woman disappeared in the hallway he knew he had to leave because he wasn’t in the mood to encounter with Y/N’s parents.

Arthur looked at his brother by the corner of his eye. “Tom, why don’t we go the Garrison? Have a drink?” He tried to to sound cheerful.

“No.” Tommy answered right away.

He acted like a lion in a cage, snapping at the slightest comment, he was irritated, refused to hear anything different of his opinion, John and Michael had been on the brick of a fight because of Tommy’s attention.

Just as Arthur was about to insist once more, a knock on the door caught their attention.

“Come in.”

“Good evening, I just brought these papers Mr. Shelby, the monthly bills of the Institution.” Frances offered him the folder and immediately looked down.

He had asked for her help since she had been helping Y/N with the final touches. If she trusted Frances, then he trusted Frances as well. When she told him her story and what Y/N did to help her, Tommy understood everything and not only that, he sent

“Thank you, I’ll sign you a cheque later… would you take care of the payment? Y/N used to do it.” He sighed defeated and overwhelmed, now he was fully invested in the project Y/N was leading. So many things needed to be done, he didn’t know where to start… he went to the hospital last night but stayed across the street looking at Y/N’s window.

“The cleaning staff will start tomorrow and the carpets arrive at the end of the week.” Frances informed him solemnly, she took seriously her role and really stood up, she was so grateful with Y/N and said helping in her project was at least she could do while she got better.

“Thanks.” Tommy gave her one more nod and she excused herself to walk out of the office.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Frances offered but Tommy shook his head before taking the last sip of his second whiskey.

“She’s like a fucking soldier. Yes sir, no ma’am.” Arthur mimicked the woman, but it wasn’t fun enough to make Tommy laugh.

He just looked outside his window absently thinking of Y/N and how much he wanted her to be alright and how desperate he was to confess his feelings for her.

Again thank you so much for following this series! I hope to be back on track faster now ♥️✨

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