#THANK YOU TOMMY THIS IS JUST. THE BEST. TRULY TRULY -Key

[uhohbestie]

Ohhhh Tommy my head is in my hands. I LOVE this.

It's crazy how nostalgic this makes me for the early desert arc. The colours on this, the backgrounds, the atmosphere, aaa..... The animation in Grian's blinking and shifting expression... There's something so good about how the colour moves through this, being brightest when Grian is at his worst with Quackity, then fading out when he gets bit, and coming back again when he's at a new low (now infected). You absolutely crushed it with those backgrounds, they are SO pretty.

This is so gorgeous and SO cool. The music choice and how it all matches up is A+, too. And aughhhh, how it kills me to see Scar kissing Grian, seeing him smiling with Quackity, seeing him HAPPY and then seeing Grian assume the worst and have everything spin so desperately out of control due to his pettiness jealousy.

This is so good and so TAMN and I love it. THANK you so SO much!!! <3 <3 -🔒

to celebrate the gut wrenching fact that There are Monsters Nearby by the INCREDIBLE @uhohbestie is coming to an end I've decided to make a pmv all about our guy tamn!grian.. nobody does it like him! ("it" is horrific amounts of self sabotage.)

TAMN has genuinely changed my life I think I've never been this insane about a piece of writing. If you like amazing characters zombies and the most messed up yaoi of all time give this a read!! Tysm Lock and Key for creating this masterpiece I am absolutely sat for whatever comes next!! You two are amazing <3

(w that all being said: warning for some blood and gore in this pmv!!)

[brummiereader]

Binding Love (Part Three/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: An evening of drinks gets quickly interrupted by your husband's paranoia and demand for answers. How far will Tommy go in his quest to keep you as his wife? And will you ever learn of the sinful acts he's kept buried?

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst, murder.

Word Count: 4.5K

[Masterlist] [Previous Part] [Trailer]

"So drinks on you, yeh Tom?" Arthur sniffed with an eager grin, rubbing his hands together as Tommy pulled the key from the ignition, silently surveying the dimly lit bar until his eyes found you sat behind the foggy window with a glass of wine perched between your fingers, your plump lips smiling to the unknown man accompanying you.

"What's with him?"John quietly muttered, resting his arm on the back of Arthur's seat as he cocked his head to your husband whose lack in response had both brothers regretting the night they had planned in the Garrison for an evening with Tommy's sour mood, and now, questionable motives.

" Y/N" Arthur mumbled back, following with a huffy sigh as Tommy's heart began to rapidly thud within his chest, a cold film of sweat settling on his creased brow as he took in the gutt punching sight of you sat in an intimate setting with somebody that wasn't him.

And then it came, a hand to your back, a brush of a thumb over your clothed skin. The catalyst that would stop him watching silently on the sidelines with gritted teeth, impatiently waiting for you to become aware of his presence before all restraints were lost, and he made himself known in true, Tommy fashion.

You had lied to him, Tommy's jaw clenched as he threw open his door, slamming it shut with enough force to rattle its metal frame before his heavy steps stormed along the cobbled path to the small, rickety tavern door. Lied.

" I'm sorry for wasting your time, Mr Wyatt" you looked into your glass, swirling the last of your Bordeaux into a crimson whirlpool as you regretted each spoken word that had your future slipping away from you.

" I just don't think I'm quite ready after not having worked for so long. And then there's my daughter, she needs me" your cheeks reddened with embarrassment, doubting your ability with a cascade of excuses, that you, you, would be a valued employee in a reputable company your husband would see it met its demise if you dared to take the job without his consent.

" I understand" the suited gentlemen replied with a brief, reassuring hand to your back.

"The position is yours, for when you're ready" he promised, giving you a way to enter the workforce as an independent woman, free form the constraints of your husband after things had settled between you both.

" Thank you, really" you replied with an appreciative smile, tucking a rebellious lock behind your ear as you brought your handbag into your lap.

" One for the road?" The raven haired man suggested, nodding to your glass as he scooted of his wooden chair to his feet.

" Oh...ok, why not" you nervously clutched your fingers around your clasped bag, eager to leave after having wasted his day, to get through the barrage of questions without hassle you knew awaited you when you returned home.

Eyes scanning the room, you held your breath as your gaze darted from every lone man to every darkened corner, expecting to see one of your husband's henchmen keeping a watchful eye on you.

But with the absence of Tommy and any punter sporting the infamously coiffed cut, you breathed a sigh of relief as a sense of normality to your evening relaxed your nerves.

Maybe Tommy had truly meant what he said? That he would try harder, change for the best? your chest filled with hope, dousing the flames of frustration you had with your husband's constant attempts to control your every move as you let yourself settle comfortably into your chair next to the crackling fireplace illuminating the lowly lit room.

Closing your eyes, you basked in the warmth of the flames heating your cheeks when a gust of wind followed by a scattering of crisp leaves drifted into the bustling pub as the paneled door swung open to the ring of the bell hovered over its frame.

Clutching your body from the sudden rush of cold, your eyes opened to the sound of the landlord lowly greeting his newest customer as a familiar, gravelly voice seeped its way through the rowdy laughs of men and women spending their weekly pay. Tommy.

"Fuck sake, 'ere we go" Arthur mumbled, faced with Tommy's true intentions for the night as he ushered John to the bar for the double whiskey, urgently calling his name.

With glaring eyes and long determined strides, your husband closed the distance between you as your spine stiffened with readiness, head nervously darting back and forth between Mr Wyatt and Tommy's feral stare, weighing him up with each heavy step when his attention snapped to you as you rose to your feet.

" Sit" he commanded as he pulled out the chair opposite you, calmly reaching in his suit jacket for a cigarette as you slid down into the wooden stool with widened eyes.

" Tommy i..." you stopped yourself as you watched him blow a billow of smoke to the ceiling, the fumes momentarily clouding the empty space between you until you were met with his darkened stare silently staring back at you like a disappointed parent would with their unruly child. The sight alone, enough to have your heart plummet to your stomach with dread.

For a silent Tommy, a scheming, concocting Tommy, was the worst version of your husband anyone would have the unfortunate pleasure of facing.

And yet here you were, your status as his wife not enough to save you from his anger and the torturous wait you'd endure until he finally snapped.

" I brought you here, remember? Our fifth date?" he broke the heavy silence that had settled above you both as you swallowed back your apprehension to talk, nodding to the memories he wanted to indulge in.

"Was quite eager to get out of here by the end of the night" his lips creased with a boyish smile, tapping the ash from the coiled cylinder of tobacco into the glass tray next to him.

"And if my memory serves me right, so were you" he leaned back in his chair, pointing to you with his cigarette perched between his fingers as he exuded the charm and allure you fell for all those years ago, your cheeks blushing at the glimpse of the man you had married.

With knowing looks mutually shared, you let yourself slip into the memory of that evening as Tommy's hand reached for yours, thumb brushing longingly over the indent where your wedding ring once sat, his hooded eyes drifting up to the soft smile dimpling your cheeks as your fingers danced in unison around his.

" And now that night's been stained" his mood suddenly changed as he dragged his hand along the wooden table away from you, the seething tone of his voice ambushing the foolish sentiments you still had for him, the shift away from his former self you'd spend nights yearning for brutally snatched from your hands.

" We were just having a celebratory drink, Tommy. I got the job, but...but..." You let the rest of your words fall to the back of your tightening throat, knowing the unconvinced cock of your husband's brow enough to come to the quick conclusion that he not only found your explanations feeble, but laughable. Convinced that your limited skills and work experience weren't adequate enough to get you a job you wouldn't have to flirt your way through for.

" Our daughter was asking after you, asking where you were before she went to bed" his brow of judgment lowered as he snapped his head away to the burning fire, abruptly changing the course of conversation to one that would have you feeling another dose of guilt for the day's events.

" Didn't have the heart to tell her that her mum's out fucking another man, ripping our family apart. Too busy for us, too busy to read her a bedtime story, give her a kiss goodnight. What are you not busy for, eh? he scoffed, knowing the exact combination of buttons to push to cause upset as he waited, watching your reaction in the corner of his eyes.

" Tommy that's not what's happening, it was just a drink" you began to panic, fearing the lengths your husband would go, the divide he'd drive between mother and daughter to get his way.

" I've not been with anyone, you know that" your eyes began to well with tears, feeling defeated by your six year olds name being brought into the conversation, from the heavy allegations he was now accusing you of.

" That so?" a small paper bag of ground ginger got tossed to you along with Tommy's rapidly seeping anger.

"You've been in my room?" Your eyes darted from the satchel of spices to the searing glare of your husband boring into you.

"Our room" he was quick to correct you, refusing to acknowledge your new living arrangements for what they really were.

" I can't sleep, I can't sleep because of you, Tommy. Because of you, because all of this, day in day out!" You snapped, throwing the bag at his chest as you stood up to leave, only to be dragged back down with a sharp pull of your arm.

"Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna go outside and throw this shit up..." he seethed with disdain, wavering the packet in front of your teary eyes as he continued to believe his version of events.

" I won't" you interrupted, unwilling to cater to his paranoia as you whipped your head away from him.

" And if you dont...If you don't, eh?" He leant over the table, capturing your chin between his fingers, forcing you to acknowledge him. "I'll fucking make you. Understood?" you struggled with his tightening grasp, attempting to get away from his raging jealously and the spiral of paranoia he was adamant on bringing you down to meet him in the pits with.

" It's to fall asleep, Tommy. I'm not...I haven't been with anyone else" You shook your head of the tears pooled in your eyes, desperately trying to reason with the insanity that had overtaken any rational thought he had left.

"I won't have you seeing another man, do you understand me? I won't have my daughter around another fucking man, Y/n! Your dating life ends tonight" he abruptly pulled you into the table by your arm, his anger raging into your ear through gritted teeth.

" I'm not your wife, anymore. You don't get to do this, you don't get to tell me what I can and can't do!" the sting of your ribs hitting the wooden table, bubbling enough anger within you to bite back.

"But you are, sweetheart. By law, you still are" his fury rapidly sizzled out with a smug smirk as he let go, settling back into his chair as calmly as he first had.

" Excuse me, who are you?" Mr Wyatt suddenly appeared with two glasses of whiskey as you and Tommy stared each other down, your shaky body and tear-stained cheeks only a minor cause of concern for your husband, whose cold eyes continued to scold you.

" Here" Tommy pulled a note from the rolled bundle of cash within his jacket, sliding it into the man's chest pocket before taking the two tumblers of liquor he downed in succession.

" Go on then, fuck off" Tommy settled into his chair, ushering the man away like he was nothing but a busboy, slaving sixty hours a week taking orders from junked-up businessmen for minimum wage.

" I don't think he's listening to me, darling" Tommy's brow creased as he eyed up the man from head to toe who was stood momentarily stunned by the stranger who had not only taken his seat but whose brash attitude had just insulted him.

" Is this man bothering you, Y/N?" Mr Wyatt turned from the challenging stare of your husband to do the unthinkable, touch you.

Within the blink of an eye your husband snapped. Too quick for Arthur and John to react, too quick for you to pull him back. For in the mere seconds it took, Tommy had the man pushed up against the bar, a fist full of his collared shirt scrunched between his hands.

" First name basis, eh?" What were your plans with my wife tonight?" Tommy's fist began to twist the fabric of the man's shirt within his hand, cutting the oxygen from his heaving lungs.

" Tommy! Enough!" You screamed, trying to pull your husband from the man that had shown you nothing but respect, nothing but kindness.

" Fellas, fellas. Alright, come on now, ay?" Arthur settled his hand on his brother's straining arm, calmly nodding to the landlord behind the bar, that he, the eldest of the Shelby clan, had everything calmly under control for once.

"Nice suit" Tommy scoffed, patting down Wyatt's crumpled shirt before releasing his hand, taking in the terror he'd caused the fumbling man with a satisfied smirk.

"Here, have one on me" your husband tossed a coin to his feet, giving the man no choice but to lower himself to Tommy's game and pick up the penny in what one could only assume was your husband's way of belittling him even further.

Scoffing at the weak sight before him, Tommy's smirk quickly dissipated as he watched the gentleman who had accompanied you to the bar shoot you a look of both concern and mercy that you'd help him make it home unharmed.

" That's enough for tonight, ay Tom? Tom?" Arthur shook his shoulder with a firm shake, shaking him from the heavy silence that had descended over the room, that same concocting, scheming silence that had everyone tethering on the edge as to what your husband would do next.

Snapping his eyes away, Tommy turned to face the fear laced within yours as he rolled his shoulders, stare sheepishly darting away from you to clear his throat in attempt to recompose himself of the fury that was one stroke of a match away from igniting once again.

His anger with you had been laid bare for all to see, and as your husband waited for you to say something to mask the horrified face staring back at him, all you could do was stay silent. Concocting...scheming your way out of your dreaded marriage Tommy was hellbent on dragging everyone but himself down with.

Leaning the weight of your body onto the wooden table of your foyer, you kicked off your shoes one by one, silently glaring at your husband whose hooded eyes watched your every move over the tumbler of whiskey gripped between his fingers.

"How longs your silent treatment gonna last this time then, love? A day, a week?" A scoffing chuckle lowly rumbled from his chest as he swallowed back the last of the liquor, teeth baring at its sharp notes seeping down his throat.

"S'pose I deserve it" his brows rose to crease the thin lines on his temple as he settled his glass on the table beside him. The twisting pout of his lips enough to convince you that his version of taking the blame was in fact, a pitiful attempt to have you thaw the cold shoulder he didn't believe he deserved.

With no patience left to cater to his change in mood to one of self-pity as he brushed off the night's events, you turned for the staircase with determined steps in an attempt to distance yourself from his brooding temper.

" That's it then, eh? We're not gonna talk?" His eyes followed you as you reached the second floor of your home, catching the scoff that left your lips. A small show of defiance that had him bolting up after you within seconds.

Adamant on checking your daughter's well-being, you turned onto the dimly lit hallway with quiet steps when your course of trajectory got abruptly pulled in the opposite direction to your master bedroom.

"Eh! " He continued his attempts to have you face him, storming after your beeline for the adjoining bathroom as you removed the blouse that had started the argument as Tommy's reaching hands met with the slam of the door you had closed your self off behind with the turn of the lock.

"Y/N listen to me, you need to understand" he jostled the door handle with a frustrated sigh, eyes darting for something sturdy enough to pry it open as he kicked your discarded top to the side while you slipped your trembling body into your dressing gown.

He could kick it down, he thought to himself, settling his hands on his hips, deciding that he would be the better person and proceed like an adult instead of following the bratty behaviour you had shown.

" Darling I'm having a hard time with this, you're giving me a hard time. Open the door so we can talk" He rested the weight of his body with both hands laid flat on the bathroom door, shoulders looming over the dark shadow cast beneath him.

"You've lost yourself, Tommy" your sobbing response finally set itself free, the weeping admission enough to have your husbands clenched jaw grind away the truth he refused to face into passing words that held no weight.

" That man did nothing wrong, I did nothing wrong" you rested your body on the mahogany barrier separating you, head tilting back with a thud as your tears flowed free.

" I'm keeping you safe darling" a heavy sigh left his lungs as he propped his frame against the door.

"Y/N?" he waited on your response, hearing your breath drop with disappointment when a surge of nervousness heated your blood at the question that had suddenly crept into your thoughts after having seen Tommy's unpredictable temper that night.

" Tommy?" You turned on your side, cheek pressed up against the door as your trembling hand settled on the polished wooden, nervously picking at its carved frame as a wave of panic suddenly hurtled towards you.

"What...what did you do to that officer? Tell me?" the worst of your imaginative thoughts, of the potential horrors your husband could have inflicted, flashed before your eyes.

"You know his partner's been hounding me, don't tell me you don't. You have me watched every second of the day. Tommy?" You pleaded for answers as Tommy's pulsing veins ignited with irritation, his fingers curling into clenching fists at the mention of the man he was sure you had only accepted his offer of dinner to get under his skin.

" Open the door, sweetheart" Tommy calmly replied, fooling himself into believing he had a hold over his bubbling anger as you demanded answers for the whereabouts of the gentlemen you had spent mere hours with before his men put an end to your evening.

" What did you do?" You slowly opened the door to be met with your husbands glaring stare, shoulders broad on guard as his tunneling eyes spoke his guilt for him. "Tom?"

"Tommy?" came a sudden knock to the bedroom door, jolting you from the shackling feeling of you feet adhered to the flooring as you waited on bated breath for his response.

"Yeh, go on?" Your husband cleared his throat, head snapping to the sound of one of his men's voices from the landing.

" Cars outside" the peaky informed, dutifully waiting on his next orders.

"Bring it around to the fields" Tommy's eyes flew back to you as the sound of his henchman's feet drifted away, your opportunity for explanations drifting away with them.

" Hey?" He turned back to face you, slowly approaching as you ran your fingers through your hair, turning from his sudden need to comfort you, his need to have you forget the questions that plagued you.

"C'mere, come on" came your husband's soothing voice, seeing the beginnings of a steady stream of tears well in your eyes as you swayed your shoulders back and forth, trying to shrug his attempts to calm you away.

" Enough, eh?" He insisted pulling you into his chest as you internally battled back and forth with your pining for him, until you let your body fall into the warmth of his strong frame, satisfying the yearning as his hands soothingly ran through the locks of your hair.

" What happened to us, hm?" He lifted your chin to up to his softening gaze, gently brushing the tears from your cheeks as exhaustion took over every ounce of energy you had left. Too tired to fight with him again, too tired to release the internal screaming that was shouting his role in the downfall of your marriage.

" I'm just keeping you safe..." His lips hovered over yours, your body rippling with a layer of longing to feel close to him as his fingers brushed down the curve of your cheek, dragging his thumb over your parting lips as he took his chance to soothe the mutual want to reconnect with a kiss to your lips.

Stifling the climbing moan from within your throat, you let yourself be free of your tangled emotions, leaning in to his hypnotising hold on you as your husband's own needs intensified.

Fingers trailing down your spine, you body stepped in unison with him pulling you back to the edge of the bed as a throaty groan left his lips.

"I can't stand this anymore. Fuck sweetheart, let me back in..." his breathy declarations heated your lips as his fingers squeezed the flesh of your thighs between his fingers.

But as the sudden feeling of his bucking hips met yours, seconds from being pulled into the plush fabric covers that awaited your bodies, you stumbled back.

What was wrong with you? Had he that much of a hold over you, that you'd be so weak to give in? Forgetting everything he'd done? you thought to yourself, mumbling words of regret as you shook your head.

" You're playing with me" Tommy raised his brows, finger pointing accusingly as he matched your slow steps back to the safety of the bathroom.

" I'm just one big fucking game, to you eh?" His voice began to turn, his straining need for you left unsatisfied as you fumbled with the door handle behind you.

"Hey!" His voice snapped, body lurching forward as you threw open the door, slamming it shut with the turn of the lock.

" Fuck!" You felt the shudder of his hands slamming against the wood as your chest heaved.

Perching yourself on the edge of the bath, you buried your head in your hands, pulling at the strands of your hair in frustration for having led him on, for making him think you had suddenly overcome the six months worth of stress he'd inflicted on you as Tommy's hollering voice reemerged with furiosity.

" Give a woman your hand she'll take your fucking arm, eh Y/N? I spoilt you! " He continued his onslaught of newly founded revelations, fueled by the frustration he felt about having been turned down by his own wife.

"You don't need me now, is that is? Want to make it on your own? Then go ahead, darling. Have at it!" he snatched your blouse from the floor, throwing it at the doors of your wardrobe before pulling all your clothes out to join it.

" No need for me anymore, eh? No need for these clothes, this jewellery!" he tossed the ceramic tray of diamonds and gemstones on top of the pile of your belongings before pulling the empty suitcase from under your bed.

" Giving you a head start, Y/N. Cleansing you for this new fucking personality you've adopted, your new fucking life!" he bellowed, snapping out each seething word as he crammed your clothes in the small bag.

Handles of the suitcase clutched firmly between his straining fists, Tommy's chest heaved as he came down from the surges of anger that had spurred on his outburst as his eyes darted to the bathroom door, waiting for you to emerge and reconcile.

"Fuck it" he mumbled under his breath, storming from the silence that had returned.

" Good luck ,sweetheart!" The slam of the bedroom door had his rage abruptly come to an end as you let your body cave in on itself, the bellowing voice of your husband replaced with a wave of dread that you had landed yourself in an even more dire situation than before. Shit.

" Tommy" the stocky Irish man handed him a flask of whiskey your husband downed the last of within seconds as his frame shadowed the beaming headlights of the car behind him.

"Jesus, mother Mary. Not again Tom" Johnny Dogs lifted the car boot to see the beaten body of a man drifting in and out of consciousness as Tommy pulled the cuffs of his leather gloves around his wrists with a stretching snap.

" Do I get to know what he did before I commit my saintly soul to hell for a second time this month?" Tommy's trusted friend probed as your husband dragged Mr Wyatt from the car boot into the darkened woods.

" Looked at me the wrong way" Tommy replied, heaving his body with strained grunts to the empty grave Johnny had dug at the back of your grand home.

" That so, ay Tommy?" Dogs questioned who exactly looked at who. Sharp enough mind to know the demons that had taken over his friends troubled soul, loyal enough to turn a blind eye to the lengths both he and Tommy had gone to conceal his jealous rages.

" A hand, John boy" Tommy's reply fell short, knowing his explanations would have him questioning his slipping paranoia as his friend grabbed the arm of Mr Wyatt, pulling him with Tommy into the six foot earthy hole.

" Jesus Tom, it's starting to look like a bleeding cemetery down here" Johnny pulled a smoke from his waistcoat, observing his handy work he spent five hours digging.

Looming over the unfilled grave, Tommy waited as the man who had interviewed you began to stir, waking up from the blow to the head one of his men had inflicted on him in the struggle.

" No...no, no, no! Help!" He began to scream, hands digging at the freshly unearthed mud as Johnny handed Tommy his gun.

" Nobody will hear you all the way down here, Mr Wyatt" your husband filled the chamber of his weapon, the click of the safety releasing sending a haunting echo into the stary sky. "Not for long, that is"

" It was just a drink, I...I" he mumbled his pleas for mercy as Tommy knelt down, resting his arms on bent knees as a cloud of chilled air fogged his face.

" That's what they all say, don't they?" he scoffed, darkening eyes staring down at the sobbing man below him.

" You see Mr Wyatt, my wife doesn't understand the dangers of this world. She's too kind, too forgiving...naïve" he shifted the toe of his boot from the man's scrambling hands with a smirk of enjoyment as Wyatt desperately tried to pull himself out of his impending death.

"And as her husband, it's my duty to keep her safe from the wickedness of this world. Sniff out the good from the bad" the man's attempts to escape suddenly came to an abrupt stop as the twisting face of your husband began to seal his fate.

" And you Mr Wyatt, well..." He lifted his nose to the night sky, peaked cap shadowing the taunting smile as he played out the decision he had already made.

"I can only smell bad" he abruptly rose to his feet, shooting the victim of his paranoia point-blank in the head as a breathy exhale of satisfaction left his lips.

As the sound of Wyatt's lifeless body hit it's final resting place, Tommy's shaky fingers, pulsing with adrenaline took the cigarette waiting for him from Johnny's weathered hands.

" Fill her up Johnny" Tommy gave his final orders as his eyes darted to the bag of clothes he'd dragged down for their own ceremonial burial.

" Those too" he pointed to your belongings, to the blouse tucked within your clothes that had the night's events take a deadly turn.

Tossing his gloves onto the hood of the car, Tommy wiped the splattered blood sprayed on his face with the back of his trembling hands as he came down from his murderous high.

Best not to look your demons in the eye, he said to himself as his gaze drifted down to the bloody image of himself staring back at him in the reflection of his wedding ring.

Shake hands with the devil and walk past him, the words of his Aunt justified his sins as he turned on his heel and left, coat casting a gloomy shadow over the grave of his victim being filled next to the drying soil of the one feet from it.

Two graves, two dead bodies. Land enough to fill a whole field of those that came between your marriage. Tommy would stop at nothing to keep you as his wife. Nothing.

Next Part

Tag list: @peakyswritings @justrainandcoffee @garrison-girl-08 @meadows5 @lavender-haze-01

@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

@jbrownta @lau219 @whereismymindnow @honeymoon8 @bruhidkjustwannaread @strrvnge

@paintedinpinks @edgyficuselastica

[dovedewdrop]

The One That Got Away

In another life

I would be your girl / 1.7k

A/N: Hi! Welcome to my first fic! I've been super anxious to put this out but also itching to write something so here we are🤗 I hope you enjoy🩷

Also thank you to one of my besties @gracieispunk for being so supportive always🥹 she truly has a heart of gold and deserves the world💛 Happy 5 months of friendship🫶🏻👹

Warnings: Post-Outbreak. Mean!Joel. Just pure angst tbh. sad vibes.

---

The last time he had kissed you was the morning of the outbreak, long and passionate, his arm slung around your lower back, your hand on his chest. He’d done it to shut you up really, both you and Sarah on his case about how he was working late, on his birthday of all days, but you both knew why he had to, it was the same reason you picked up extra shifts at work too, you had a wedding to plan and weddings weren’t cheap no matter how low-key they were.

Now you sat at your kitchen table in Jackson in the house you shared with Tommy and Maria, your fingertips ghosting across your bottom lip as you reminisced on that morning. Soon those sweet memories that seemed to be coated in an orange hue were contrasted with shades of blue, Joel had changed, he became a man you didn’t recognise, a man who was cold towards you.

You knew deep down that he didn’t blame you for what had happened, but he had to be mad at someone. At first he just withdrew into himself, but it didn’t take long for him to become outwardly mean, you felt pathetic as you followed behind him up dirt paths and across fields and embarrassed when one day he’d stopped in his tracks, drew in a long breath, and muttered, “wish you’d just leave already,” stalking off up the hill and leaving Tommy to comfort you.

So that’s what you did, you and Tommy, you left with no idea where you’d end up and it killed you to turn around at the edge of the woods and see Joel sitting there on his own, snapping sticks in his hand as if it was your heart he was holding.

You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand and downed the rest of your coffee before placing the mug in the sink, grabbing a checked fleece from the hook on your way out the door. The air outside was biting, bringing a rosiness to your cheeks which you didn’t really mind, you’d be out of the cold and in the Bison soon enough. You took note of the patrol coming back in through the gates and smiled at some of the other families as you weaved your way through the crowds of people who had stopped in the streets.

“Tommy!” You stopped dead in your tracks. Tommy was a popular man around here; someone was always looking for him but there was no mistaking whose voice that was. When you turned ever so slightly they were embracing in a hug, it made your heart burst to see them together like that, how they used to be, how Joel used to be. He seemed a lot brighter, full if a bit more life. You scanned the horses and noticed a young girl amongst the patrollers, someone you hadn’t seen before, you wondered if she was his, if he’d met someone new after you, fallen in love again and decided to have another kid, you wondered if he was healed, if she’d healed him. 

When you turned your attention back to them he was already looking at you and for the first time in your life you couldn’t read him, his emotions had always been so strong, when he loved it was with his whole heart and as you came to find out, when he hated, that was with his whole heart too.

You tore your gaze away from his and headed towards the pub, clutching at your chest, you were grateful that you didn’t have to open for another hour as you slumped against the wooden cupboard behind the bar, trying your best to regulate your breathing, eyes closed and head pounding. As you’d finally calmed down and peeled your eyes open you noticed a head full of curls peaking over the bar, Tommy.

“You know he was coming?” You asked, with a slight shake evident in your voice.

“Nah, guys picked him and the girl up whilst out on patrol.” He began rounding the bar to sit on the floor with you.

“Is that his daughter?”

“Don’t think so, haven’t had chance to speak to him properly yet, ‘ad to come check on you.” He nudged your shoulder with his and gave you a sincere smile, one which you returned, he’d always looked out for you and now that Joel was back that wasn’t going to change. “Take the rest of the afternoon off, I’ve got it covered here.” 

“Thanks Tommy,” you pull him into a hug before standing up and heading home. 

You take a hot shower and try to drown out the recurring memories of how Joel fell out of love with you, of how when he looked at you his eyes no longer held warmth, how when you’d touch him he’d flinch and looked away. When you sat at your dresser your eyes fixed on your engagement ring that sat in a wooden box that the carpenter in Jackson had been kind enough to make, it wasn’t incredibly fancy, you weren’t into big sparkly rocks, but the green amethyst stone was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, and it made your heart burst to know that he picked it. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been sat at the dresser but when you snap out of your trance you realise you don’t quite know what to do with the rest of your afternoon, perhaps you should’ve carried on with your shift, but you know there’s no arguing with Tommy. Eventually you decide on grabbing a book from the bookshelf and sitting outside on the porch with a cup of coffee. That’s when you see him again, or rather hear him. The door to the Bison swings and he storms out, jacket in hand, boots trudging through the sludgy remnants of snow until he stops in the middle of the street, he looks down and you watch, over the top of your book, as his body lets out a breath he seems to have been holding in for a long time. 

You try to hold your tongue but you’re not about to let him walk around in this town and ignore you. “Get into a fight with Tommy?” you question, placing your book down in your lap and pulling the blanket further up your legs. His head shoots up to look at you, his expression looks pained, like he knew this was coming but would prefer it to not be happening right now. 

“Somethin’ like that,” he grumbles as he slowly walks over to the house, treading lightly both figuratively and literally. 

“Ah, still the same Joel Miller, so elusive and cautious, so stony-faced,” he doesn’t answer you, just looks away to where the girl is talking to some other kids, “of course, he wasn’t always like that,” you mumble, more to yourself than him but he still catches it.

“Don’t” He snaps back.

“Don’t?” You scoff, “that’s rich, what? Can’t handle a bit of shit back?” Again, he doesn’t answer. “That your kid?” You ask, you make sure that you breathe when you ask but really, you’re suffocating inside, you want to fawn over him, you want to hug him and cradle his head in your hand, and you want him to rub soothing circles on your hips like he used to but you’re dealing with an entirely different man now.

“No.” There’s a pause, you notice his eyes flit down to your hands, presumably searching out your ring. “Just tryna get her somewhere.” You nod at his response before silence falls over you both, your eyes drifting over to the kid.

“What’s her name?”

“Ellie.” You nod your head once again. 

You can feel everything bubbling up inside you, emotions and words and if you’re not careful they’ll come bubbling out of you in a way that you can’t control. Every second spent in his presence goads you. “You… got a boyfriend?” he asks cautiously and you roll your eyes.

“Jheez Joel, no, how are ya?” He looks down at his fingers that are resting on the wooden railing, like a little boy that’s just been told off. You don’t even know how to respond, your brain trying to categorise your thoughts and feelings like your mind is a jumble sale. 

“What ya thinking about?” His voice is soft, his eyes feel as though they’re looking into your soul, like they used to do, he was looking at you like he did when you did something he adored, something that reminded him why he loved you so damn much.

When you let out a sigh instead of an answer, he tapped both hands on the railing and pushed himself off, a slight smile that quickly turned into a frown. “See ya around.”

He stopped walking as you began speaking and you were glad his back was to you because here comes the word vomit, 

“ Thinkin about how one day, probably sometime within the next five years, my kids are gonna come runnin up on this porch and my husband is gonna come home from his patrol shift, presumably with you, and he’s gonna tell me about his day and he’ll give that little of a shit that he won’t even notice that I’m not lookin directly at him, I’m lookin past him at you. About how, when I go to tuck my kids in at night I’ll get this stabbing in my chest and this gnawing feeling in my brain telling me that I’m a bad mother because sure, I’ll love them to absolute pieces but part of me can’t help but think I’d love them more if they were your kids. About how I’ll get into bed at night, with my husband who doesn’t so much as utter a “goodnight” to me, instead just rolls over and goes straight to sleep and I’ll cry and mull over what could have been and what I wanted more than anything in the world- until the exhaustion washes over me. Then I’ll wake up the next day and do it all over again. That’s what I’m thinking about Joel.”

He turns to face you at your admission and you can see the tears in his eyes, watching as he forces them out with a blink before wiping a stray one with the back of his flannel. “See ya around,” he repeats.

[billys-pretty-babe]

Mr Stole Your Girl

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : Nearly 2 weeks after you drunkenly confessed your feelings for your best friend, your boyfriend had found out and the two of you broke up. Now, you're finally Billy's girl.

Warnings : Swearing, infidelity accusations, Billy is competitive

Word count : 1, 230

A/N : Part 2 of Mr Steal Your Girl. There's a time skip, but it's labeled!

"It's because of him isn't it," Chris asked you, eyes studying yours. "No, it's not. I feel like we're not a good fit. I'm a partier, you're not and that's okay." He nodded, still not believing you. "Okay, yeah, I understand." You nodded before leaving his house and sighing, thinking about what you'd do next.

Somehow you ended up on Cherry Lane, car parked right behind the Camaro. You didn't see Neil's truck and decided to round the house to Billy's window as you knocked. His curtains moved, the cherry on his cigarette burning and he smiled around it and unlocked his window.

"Boyfriend letting you come over? How nice of him to share custody." You flicked him off and climbed through his window. "We broke up, thank you very much." His smile fell, "Wait, what?" His heart raced, his stomach lurching slightly but his soul danced on the inside, couple hip thrusts here and there at the news.

You nodded, "I just felt like we were too different plus I lost feelings about two months ago." He winced, "Damn." You nodded, trying to insinuate that you were talking about the night that you told him you'd kiss him. He rubbed the cherry of his cigarette in the ash tray as he pushed his hair back. "Why'd you lose feelings? You seemed like you liked him a lot." You nodded, "I did but I also realized I was in love with someone." His heart stopped and shattered, a gaping hole now in it's place.

"Oh." You nodded. "Are you gonna tell the guy?" You looked at Billy, "I've been trying to give him signals since I showed up to his house but I think all the nicotine has gotten to his head." He looked at you, blinking slowly, trying to comprehend what you were saying. "Say it then." You looked at him and smiled, "I'm in love with you." He smiled, a genuine, smile with teeth.

"Glad the feeling's reciprocated. Swear I fucking fell in love with you when Carol introduced us."

That was three months ago and Billy was everything you could ever want and more especially now that the two of you didn't have the energy to hide your relationship anymore. He was still your flirty best friend but now he could kiss you without crossing a line.

Now

You talked to Carol at your locker, Billy's keys in hand as you waited for him. You knew he was trying to be sneaky but Tommy made it impossible and you laughed, "I know you're there, B." He sighed, "Damn it," he said in your ear, making you jump considering you didn't know how close he had truly gotten to you.

He smacked a fat, wet kiss to your cheek and you laughed, "Gross." He gasped jokingly, "Gross? Says the one that has a spi-" you cut him off by putting your hand over his mouth as he nipped and licked at your palm. "You're like a rabid dog, stop it." He bit you harder and laughed as soon as he was free.

Three lockers away from you slammed shut and the four of you looked over as Chris made eye contact with you, shaking his head and Billy snickered in your ear. "Someone pissed in his Cheerios." You hushed him. "Stop, he's just upset." He hummed and nodded. "I'll see you later, okay?" You nodded and quickly pecked his lips and he hummed, "Maybe I can skip practice." You shook your head. "No you can't. You said yourself that you suck." He scoffed and you laughed.

"Go." He nodded and walked with Tommy and Carol wolf-whistled and Tommy turned around and winked at her. You and Carol went outside to Billy's car and you turned his radio on, having to kill time.

Billy walked into the locker room as Chris shoulder checked him and Tommy looked at Chris. "The fuck?" Chris looked at Tommy. "Oops." Billy hummed, biting his cheek. "So, you guys fucked huh?" Billy looked down slightly, Chris being a few inches shorter than him. "That's none of your business." Chris laughed, "Man, I had a feeling something was going on with you two especially after I saw that Polaroid of all of you at that party, the way you were groping her made me think a little." Tommy scoffed, "He didn't fuck her while you were together." Chris hummed, "Sure, I'll believe it for now," he said as he left the locker room and went to the court.

"Bat shit, I tell you, man," Tommy said as he and Billy walked to their lockers. "He's bat shit because he lost her. Fuck, I'd be bat shit too." Tommy laughed, "You already are." Billy mocked Tommy's laugh and hit the back of his head before changing and going to the court. An hour passed and Billy and Tommy walked to the Camaro and he opened the driver door, "Out, you can't drive for shit." You mocked him and he laughed, gently swatting your ass when your back faced him.

Tommy and Carol bid the two of you farewell and Billy began driving the two of you to your house. You two bound up the stairs and he immediately laid on your bed and you wrinkled your nose, "Are you still sweaty?" He shook his head, "Showered at the school." You nodded and laid beside him and he hummed as you wrapped your arm around his chest.

You immediately removed it, hand going to his jaw and you turned his face and he winced, knowing you found the bruise. "What happened?" He bit his tongue gently, "Got into a little scuffle, nothing to worry about." You looked at him, "With who?" You knew who, they had been going at each other for months, even before you and Billy began dating.

He sighed, "It's not a big deal. It doesn't hurt, just a little bruise, fucked punches like a bitch anyways." You ran your thumb over the bruise and he winced, "Sure seems like it hurts." He looked at you, taking your hand off of his face, "Hurts because it's fresh, it'll be fine in a few hours. He kept saying I fucked you when you guys were together." You sighed, "Just ignore it, we know that we didn't." He nodded.

"But fuck, I sure wanted to kiss you that night." You laughed, "I did too, thankfully I didn't." You both laughed and he pulled you closer to him. "We can kiss now," he said as his face got closer to yours, "and no one would have to know, our little secret."

You laughed and pressed your lips to his and he hummed and held the back of your head as he slowly sat the two of you up, his lips slightly chapped against yours, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip occasionally as he held you as close as he could because this would never be close enough for him, he physically needed to be sewed to you, he was greedy like that, always needing you beside him, your skin on his to calm him.

The next day when Tommy saw the two of you, he laughed and dapped up Billy before calling him something that made the two of you laugh, "Morning Mister Steal Your Girl." The four of you laughed before going about your day.

[noforkingclue]

Hey there! I hope you’re well! 🥰

So the prompt list you just reblogged, coupled with your response to my comment on your fic created a perfect storm for me to send a request in (if you’re still taking them, that is)

Would you be willing to write some more protective Tommy Shelby using this prompt: “I’m not jealous. I just know the intentions that someone like that has for you, even if you claim not to see them yourself.” ?? … you’re an absolute master at it and I’m excited to see what you’ll write!

Thanks in advance if you choose to! 🧡

Yep, requests are still open and thank you for sending this in! :D

I couldn't help but add in angst and pining because I'm evil.

I hope you like the fic :)

Title: Wanting

Prompt list: list

Peaky Blinders tag list: @stylesofloki,  @ohshititsfenharel,  lenaskyler02, @elenavampire21, @swordofawriter, @zablife, @cillmequick, @polishcrazyone, @nataliewalker93

Thomas Shelby tag list: @alreadybroken-ts, @darlingdevil, lyrxbz,  @watercolorskyy, @notyour-valentine, @neonpurplestars89-blog

Everything tag list: greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites spngingerbread21,  @layazul,  @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You adjusted your hair one last time before turning around. You smiled at Tommy and gestured to yourself.

“Well?” you asked, “How do I look?”

Tommy didn’t answer. He looked away and lit another cigarette. You sighed and walked over to him, sitting down next to him.

“Too much?” you said

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“How well do you know…” Tommy tried to remember the name of the man, you did tell him after all, “him?”

“James,” you said with a soft smile, “We’ve met a couple of times.”

“A couple of times,” Tommy smiled bitterly, “and you sure you really know someone after only meeting a ‘couple of times’.”

“That’s why I’m going out with him to dinner,” you said, rolling your eyes, “to get to know him. What’s the matter Tommy?” You smiled playful and nudged him, “You jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” Tommy said firmly, “I just know the intentions that someone like that has for you, even if you claim not to see them yourself.”

You stood up quickly and wrapped your arms around yourself. A thick silence fell over the two of you. Silences were never awkward between you and Tommy. He was one of the few people who you felt comfortable being completely silent with. Ever since you started working with Polly, you and Tommy had become close. Well, as close as anyone can truly get with Tommy.

“I’m not stupid.” You said eventually

“I know.”

“Then why are you acting like I am?”

You heard Tommy stand up. Your breath hitched as he put his hands on your shoulders. He squeezed them briefly before saying quietly,

“Too many people I… care about have gotten hurt, love. I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

You turned around, gaze softened, and put your hand over Tommy’s. Tommy resisted the urge to link your fingers together.

“It’s ok,” you said, “I’m an adult. I can handle myself, can’t I?”

“I know.”

“Besides,” you removed your hand and pulled yourself out of Tommy’s grip, “Polly knows his mother. She assures me that he has nothing but the best of intentions.”

You grabbed your coat and headed towards the door. You turned back for a second and for a brief moment Tommy thought that you had changed your mind. That you were going to abandoned your meeting and agree to spend the evening with him.

“You know where my spare keys are right?” you said, “You don’t mind locking up when you leave? Although you know you’re more than welcome to stay.”

“Not wise to leave your spare keys under a flower pot.” Said Tommy

“And who’s going to fuck with someone who works for Shelby Company Limited?”

You gave him one last bright smile before shutting the door. Tommy closed his eyes and sat back down as the sound of your shoes clicking on the ground was lost to the night. He took another deep drag of his cigarette. He wished that he hadn’t let you go. He wished that he had pulled your back into his arms and never let you go. To tell you how much he loves you, those words that seemed so small and yet would change everything.

And Polly had done everything in her power to prevent that. With her actually knowing the family, and giving you her assurance, you would never be Tommy’s.

[gyllenhaalstories]

Hi Laurie! Very important ice cream questions are delievered right to your doorstep:

For your top 3 favourite characters at the moment: What is their favourite ice cream? Do they like to try new flavours or do they stick to the classics? Best occasion to eat it and best way to eat it? Coup, cone, fancy cone, out of the tub?

Kisses, love and spaghetti ice cream for you, byeeee 💖🍝

thank you for exposing my poor knowledge of ice cream flavours (i'm a simple girl, i like my soft serve vanilla & chocolate swirl). i have about 8 tabs open of lists of popular flavours, i'm putting in all the work and research because this is an important question! thank you for sending it back to me! i'm craving ice cream now! 💖🍦

divider credits: @/firefly-graphics (i've always wanted to use this cute ice cream truck divider, thank you for giving me the best opportunity to use it!)

RUSTY SABICH

cherry something. ben & jerry's cherry garcia, cherry cheesecake, just cherry related ice cream. or a very good quality vanilla bean ice cream, the one with tons of vanilla specks in it. he has his designated bowl in the cupboards, he never waits enough for the ice cream to chill a bit so it's always too hard and he always gets frustrated when he scrapes some off the top and it goes flying on his face. rusty is not known for his patience. i think barbara would appreciate pistachio or a good dark chocolate ice cream, so he steals some from hers but he never tells her. he mostly eats ice cream at home, sitting in the couch with his family or in the sun room on a rainy day that prevented him to go out for a swim.

i love how we both agree on the fact cherry ice cream is for cheaters (he probably genuinely enjoys maraschino cherries, there's truly something wrong with that man). yeah of course he's my top current fave character right now because i'm pathetic just like him. sigh.

ELWOOD DALTON

sorbet, specifically mango. i don't know what kind of fruits grow in the florida keys. if the university of florida says mango can grow in the keys, then mango can grow in the keys. i think coup is best with sorbet and i believe dalton would love to stick to the pure flavours of the fruit (similar to the dark cuban coffee), but he secretly likes to pick the tiny colourful plastic scoop that matches the funky shirt he is wearing.

i don't see dalton as much of a dessert guy anyway, he doesn't go out of his way to get some but he'll happily eat whatever dessert you buy or bake for him. i like to think that laura invited him to go out for ice cream the same way she offered him a ride and he said no the first time but then she teased him the next day about how yummy the ice cream was and then he was like :) okay :) and she invited him again and he accepted (this time it was only the two of them) and he had mango sorbet, he didn't really care what he was getting anyway. laura probably told him it was good, fresh local fruit and everything, and it became his favourite after the first bite. mostly because she seemed happy he liked her suggestion. he's very nice and charming with the workers so he always gets an upscale, whether it be an extra scoop or he gets offered the large size even if he paid for the small.

TOMMY CAHILL

cookie dough or cookies and cream. he's definitely the most likely out of this list to try new flavours, he just wants to try them all at least once in his life. these two are his favourite. if he's out and about, stopped at an ice cream truck or a proper creamery, he gets the normal sugar cone (with extra napkins, he always makes a mess). he can go for a dipped cone as well if he's feeling fancy. if he's eating at home, he definitely stirs his ice cream until it turns into a milkshake.

most of his ice cream related memories involve his nieces, isabelle and maggie. he takes them out for a swim at the pool or out at the park where he pushes their swings extra high (in the safest way possible) or even goes down the slide with them and their reward is an all you can eat ice cream buffet aka one cup they can fill with whatever toppings they want. grace and sam absolutely hate him for it, he brings back two hyper kiddos on a sugar high but tommy is just happy to have fulfilled his uncle duties. he made it into some kind of game as to who can make the craziest concoction. the kids would go for gummy bears with strawberry ice cream and sprinkles convinced that they won the contest, but then tommy would show up with a mountain of crushed oreos, mini m&ms, choco chips, drizzled with all the sauces they had and he would easily win. he'd get sick afterwards (probably because the girls ended up sharing his ice cream and he had to eat theirs instead) but it would be their favourite way to celebrate the end of summertime before school starts again.

DANNY SHARP (bonus teehee)

salted caramel. waffle cone. topped with a waffle cookie on top. danny strikes me as a caramel syrup person for some reason, so he probably asks for extra drizzle of it on top when he needs an even bigger pick me up. he has to eat it in secret, go to the creamery alone, so he doesn't hear castro begging to tag along (he will go out for ice cream with castro every once in a while and he will pay for his three scoops sugar extravaganza and he will complain about it although he secretly likes to make his employee/friend/flamingo zookeeper happy).

my first thought was neapolitan because he wouldn't need to choose so he could have a bit of all flavours (less anxiety inducing). that was probably his favourite as a kid, he could share with will and let his brother have his fave flavour. my second thought was distinguished ice cream to enjoy while wearing a cashmere sweater so that's why i switched my answer.

[inklessletter]

Can we please talk for a second about Steve's trauma? It's heartbreaking that in the show he only mentions that losing Nance was what made him "crawl forward", when he's been through SO MUCH.

We don't know much about his upbringing, but we do know that in s01 his only two friends were Tommy an Carol, and he spends the whole season cleaning up their messes and trying to be the better version of himself, and no matter what he does after that, he is still reminded by absolutely everyone season after season how much of an asshole he was in highschool... And he never even argues that. He never defends himself, he never even try to justify his actions, although he had a pretty strong reason to snap at Jonathan after he found out about the naked Nancy pictures, for example. He goes along with whatever shitty opinion his friends have about him, and they have no problem whatsoever expressing them. Robin's way of expressing her affection is calling him dingus, Dustin keeps treating him like an idiot, Nancy had the nerve to be annoyed when he dared to be hurt the morning after the awful break up. And it makes sense that he internalised that, that his emotions and his trauma are worthless. That way of belittling him constantly by his loved ones must be... dehumanizing.

And that's not even the worst part. A girl died in his backyard and he's not allowed to be affected by that, because that's Nancy's trauma, not his. He gets brutally beaten to the pulp by Billy to protect Lucas and Max, uses himself as a fucking human bait with the demodogs, gets tortured by evil Russians and nobody (not even himself) ever mentions that again. Like, ever. All of this happens and nobody even says thank you to Steve. Nobody has a heartfelt conversation with him after. Nobody even acknowledge what he does for them in a regular basis, like driving his best friend to a school he doesn't attend to anymore, or showing for Lucas' basketball game, or risking his job by letting the kids sneak in the cinema. No, he keeps getting rewarded with shady comments and low-key insults.

Honestly? The closest to a rendition to Steve comes from Eddie in the Upside Down woods, and they're not even really friends at the moment. And it's odd, right? It must be odd hearing nice things from someone that he doesn't really know, someone he's jealous of because he's afraid that his fifteen-year-old friend is going to replace him with Eddie. Eddie, who is pulling the most vulnerable, soft expression on Steve's face that we get to see in the whole show by telling him that he's unambiguously loved. It just makes sense that he simply doesn't believe it.

So, yeah. I don't really think that Steve's trauma is only Nancy's fault. Steve's trauma has deeper, darker roots, and they all end in feeling worthless of love, because no matter how hard he tries, how much he proves that he's not that person anymore (if he ever was), how much effort he pays to fix it, to be acknowledged, he can't get rid of King Steve. Not even with his closest friends. No matter the concussions, or the dead girl in his backyard, or the many, many acts of service.

As much as I love ST characters, I truly hope that in s05 his friends get to acknowledge him somehow as for what he is at the moment, regardless of the past. I would hate to end the series thinking that Steve Harrington deserved better friends.

[wigglesforsquiggles]

4 5 12 18 !!!

4. Movie of the year?/ 5. TV show of the year?

apologies key but i rly do not consume media that often. fav tv show of the year is the only one ive actually watched a full season of - so umbrella academy s3 lmao. the visuals were amazing tho. (and i got to watch it w my gf so thats a solid bonus)

as for movie,, im wracking my brain to see what i remember watching. ill say the Batman, mostly bc my friend was and still is a riddler simp (i wish i were joking) and it made the film 10 times funner to watch

12. Talk about a new friend you made this year

i joined the jellypit early this year so literally most of my mutuals count oh god kee you have been selected

i cant quite remember when i joined, but u had a v cool and mature vibe to u, like queitly confident in urself as a person. and then the tommy love or host stream happened, and i decided, whilst in a random hotel room in milton keynes with shitty wifi and in pitch black to watch it with you and bee and liveblog it. and it was one of the best experiences ive had whilst watching a stream ive ever had. and since then weve been thick as thieves

finding out ur associated w capybaras was truly a delightful experience, partly bc i didnt know how many adorable/funny pictures of them existed on the internet, and partyl bc i have a whale of a time tagging them "kee core" and other specifics to the post

u were there for the creation of Grittydook, something that has defined my existence on the internet, as it led me to writing my first fanfiction ever. also seeing u write for nanowrimo was a wonderful experience, bc the word count updates were just, so impressive.

i cant believe ive known you for less than a year, bc honeslty ur such a presence in my online life, a true icon rly. thank u for being friends w me :D

18. A memorable meal this year?

uh the one i spent 5 minutes in fits of tears because i was laughing so hard trying to explain a joke that wasnt at all funny. i was gasping in pain, breathless, unable to form words bc my friends kept asking me why i was laughing, which would set me off again. luckily i had already finished eating, but i still think of that whenever im explaining a joke.

[jujulawrence]

˙ ˖ ✶ Tommy

Once upon a time it was Tommy, Julian and other guys all living together. He had been used to the life of a bustling home full of people, but unlike life with his siblings, all his attention fell on Tommy. Julian just gravitated towards the man, his demeanor, his smile, everything had been the picture perfect scenario for him to stop thinking about the heartbreak he had experienced prior. The late night chats, the midnight snacks, the laughter and banter during game night. There wasn't a moment during that period of time where Julian wasn't grateful for Tommy.

"Just Julian, wow, and I thought so highly of myself prior to this," he teased, cooing slightly at Rue as she would always capture his eyes no matter what. Seeing Tommy with her made Julian melt on the spot, the patience and tenderness of their bond, it was truly an amazing sight to behold.

"Frogs, cool. Like the tiny ones that yell like Mariah Carey?" Julian didn't even question the odd hyper fixations, he just carried along as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Thanks," he hummed grabbing his keys before turning on his heels. The décor of Tommy's abode would never cease to astound him, and how it had this unique charm to it that could draw you in.

"Yes they're for you, I figured you could have fun building them, and if you like them I've got a killer discount for them." he mused, giggling slightly. "Oh you know cause I like you, that's all the occasion that's needed here." A devilish grin played on his features. "I brought some stuff for Rue, a few stuffed animals she could use. I have a llama, a fox, and a surprisingly enough a frog as well." He didn't even remember he had a frog it was just one of those happy accidents. "Me? I'm innocent, and please you've probably had the best nights of sleep cause of me. I remember the time you stole my bed from me, and I'll admit that was my best sleep. You make an amazing pillow."

Tommy hadn't always lived alone, in fact, most of his life he hadn't. First with his family, then his wife, and later a bunch of guys when he couldn't afford his own bachelor pad. Once upon a time Tommy was walking in through the door to Julian, rather than opening his own to them.

"Enough Rue," he sings in a sigh, used to the act Rue puts on where she pretends to be a big guard dog but really she's just barking for Tommy to handle the intrusion of her night. "It's just Julian," he reminds her, patting her on her head as he waits for the man to enter. Rue settles into her pet, resting her head against Tommy's thigh, calming almost instantly - something that had taken time to

"Don't stress, we were just watching a video on frogs." If this was someone else you might question why frogs, but if you knew Tommy it was just the next thing in a line of many that he'd fixated on for a moment. By next week it will be something else entirely. "Your keys are on the hook," his hand is waved towards nothing particular - Julian knew what hook he was talking about, the one that was by the door he'd just walked in, right next to the giant martini lamp that sent a pink glow against the brick wall of his entry and kitchen.

"Hmm?" At the mention of presents Tommy's gaze picks up, abandoning its focus on his dog who pads towards the bag that's being riffled through, sniffing as Rue dicovered all the smells it had picked up along it's travel. "Oh, wait these are for me?" Tommy collects the boxes, turning them over to inspect. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done anything lego, let alone a kit like this. "These are cool, thanks. What's the occasion?" Had he forgotten something? That wasn't a hard stretch with his brain, plus he'd been distracted this week. "Games? Now that's dangerous," Tommy points a finger at Julian, box still in hand, "I have not forgotten the days of no sleep because of you."

[firesnap]

Yeah, you know, The Custody Battle Stream is great. One of the great character-heavy dialogue intensive RP streams we've ever had. Like, it's rare to have an RP session where there isn't some sort of "goal" beyond the characters talking and that's all this stream really was. It was the sort of deep character dive other fandoms dream of getting.

Yeah, it's peak CrimeBoys content. It's the most vulnerable and loud either of them had been with each other since the post-Festival Stream in October 2020.

And much like the Post-Festival Stream, the key overlooked ingredient is Quackity.

When people talk about the Custody Stream, it always focuses on how absolutely out there Crime Boys went with their dynamicThey acted like people who RP'd the same character every week together for some 5 year long DnD campaign.

But Quackity's role in the stream is so downplayed. Quackity, who during the October 17th Stream before functioned as more of an outsider POV to Tommy's efforts to talk down Wilbur, was the catalyst. Quackity was more than the first time Wilbur felt someone push back at him since his revival, he also represented something a little terrifying.

Wilbur showed up at Las Nevadas and saw a place that looked prosperous and safe and had achieved its independence with zero deaths. He saw a place where Quackity had plans and jobs for all the Tommyinnits of the world and ideas of how to keep his city in a position of power.

It's everything Wilbur had hoped for L'Manberg. And yeah, Wilbur eventually decides it's a mirage built in a fake desert and Quackity was just as fucked up as him, but at that moment? How terrifying to look at Tommy's big eyes and see a shadow of the enthusiasm that had existed for the thing Wilbur built partially for Tommy.

It's the moment of Wilbur realizing that he was truly afloat. The thing he thought he did -- build nations and offer grand ideas -- was not unique anymore. Quackity had literally taken a page from his book and thanked him for it and then told him to fuck off.

And so Wilbur would have had no reason to beg Tommy to stay. He had no reason to want it to be CrimeBoys versus world without that challenge from Quackity. Wilbur had been bouncing, grasping and wild eyed, since his revival and Quackity grounded him in the best (worst) way possible.

Quackity's dynamic with Wilbur was 70% of that stream and CrimeBoys was the other 30%. And they were both great! Some of the best RP the server has ever done, but man, we gotta give Quackity more respect for the part he played. He knew all the right buttons to push Wilbur into stop talking shit about not caring and scare him a little.

[inkandpen22]

Dazed and Confused ( S1: 3/?)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild language and violence 

Word Count: 3.1k

Part Summary: At Tina’s party, Y/N wants to forget all of her problems. Things take a turn when Billy makes a move on her, angering Steve

Masterlist

Arriving at Tina’s after dropping Dustin at Mike’s, I am in much need of some good old spiked punch. I yank down my gray oversized sweatshirt some more so that it hangs low off my shoulder. As I cross the threshold into the house, the heat of the crowded living room slaps me in the face. Directly to my left, the kitchen AKA the alcohol hub. I slip between bodies and end up at the counter covered with semi-empty bottles and old plastic cups. Most importantly, a bowl of maroon punch sits in the corner. I grab a cup and make my way over. A boy stands in front of it but I reach around him and scoop up some of the mystery substance.

“What’s in this?” I hear a voice holler behind me.

I turn around to answer but freeze when I realize it’s Nancy. She stares at me equally stunned. My face falls, this is awkward. Seriously universe? I couldn’t have at least one drink before bumping into her?

Steve appears behind her looking slick as ever in his black sunglasses and matching blazer.

“Everclear is my guess,” I answer, acting civil.

She nods timidly, “thanks…”

I step out of her way so she can get some of her own. Steve’s head travels up and down slowly with a blank expression. I can’t see his eyes but I assume he’s studying my costume. A gray oversized sweatshirt that hangs off the shoulder, red heels, matching earrings, and some shorts, though they’re unnoticeable. I can feel him starring me down through those stupid Ray-Bans. Silently, I beg for him to not bring up our encounter in the parking lot. All I wish for tonight is to drown out reality and try to forget. He’s a human ticking time bomb. The tension between us could be cut with a knife.

“Are you finally going to tell me what you are?” Nancy jumps in, forcing me to break my staring contest with her boyfriend.

I open my mouth to answer but Steve beats him to it.

“Flashdance,” he answers for me. “It’s one of her favorites.”

He acts distant, unattached, distracted by the party but I see right through it. There’s something he’s not saying. He says things like this as if it’s common knowledge. A random person wouldn’t describe my eyes as Y/E/C but gray depending on the lighting. One minute, he calls my eyes beautiful and the next he’s starring me down like a disapproving parent. The hell Harrington?!

Nancy gushes, apparently she and I are okay all of a sudden, despite early today with the whole Barb thing. Plus, I think she’s already been drinking for awhile so buzzed Nancy is fun Nancy.

“That’s so cute! You look hot!” She pulls me into a hug.

Over her shoulder, I glimpse up at Steve as he lifts his glasses to rest of his head. His brown eyes threaten to expose my upset from earlier. I get that he’s pissed about my neglect for my feelings. He wants to talk about what was wrong but right now we’re at a party and parties aren’t meant for depressing conversations.

“Let’s go dance!” Nancy suggests, already tugging me into the living room.

Steve calls after her but she ignores him. He follows behind us through the crowd with a groan. In the center of the living room, Nancy stops and turns to me with a bright grin. She cheers as she tosses her head back.

“Woohoo!” She laughs.

This is what I wanted, normalcy. We’re surrounded by our friends, drinking, dancing, being stupid! We did this before everything so why can’t we do it now? Perhaps after tonight, everything will fall back into place.

_______________________________________

On my third game of flip-cup, I’m beyond buzzed. In fact, when I walk I float. I’m on cloud nine. Here, this carefree and lively state is exactly where I wanted to be. Naturally, I’m competitive and amazing at drinking games so I finish my third game with yet another win. I cheer as Tommy from algebra hands me a cup of who knows what as my reward.

“Hey there beautiful,” a husky voice greets from behind me.

I spin around and kind of become dizzy from the action but catch myself.

It’s Billy.

“Hey hottie,” I smirk.

He snickers and closes the space between us to whisper in my ear. “How about you and I go somewhere a little more private?”

That’s a nice thought. He is cute. His ass could have its own zip code. Plus, he has no shirt on under that leather jacket, hello washboard like abs. His California tanned skin glistens under a thin layer of sweat. Damn, he’s a human Ken doll.

He’s no Steve though. Wait… what? I don’t think of Steve like that. Why would I think that? Um, yeah, that’s a no! Then again, Steve is always there for me. Sometimes it can be annoying how he’s always there. It means he cares but I don’t want to dump all of my drama on him. Then, he gets upset when I don’t open up. I hate it when I hurt him. I love him so much that when he’s in pain so am I.

“Okay,” I blurt out without truly thinking.

“Cool,” I hear him whisper as he takes my hand and starts pulling me toward the stairs across the room.

Wait, what? What am I doing? This isn’t me. I don’t like Billy. He treats Steve like shit. If anything I should kick his pretty ass. Though if I tried he’d probably murder me.

I glance down at his hand engulfing mine. It’s all rough and twice the size of my own. If we make it upstairs, it’ll be just him and I. I’ll be defenseless. I may be drunk but I’m not oblivious. My intuition is still working and it’s screaming for me to pull my shit together.

“Hey Billy? I don’t think…” I press my heels into the floor, slowing him down just as we reach the bottom of the stairs.

Aggressively, he whips around and purposefully towers over me to act intimidating. “What? Now, you’re saying no? Are you messing me? Playing with me!” He accuses.

I shake my head dramatically, “no! No, that’s not what-”

“Oh, so you still want to do this,” he presses.

Too impatient for an answer, he continues up the stairs. The grip he has on me has shifted up to my wrist. I attempt to tug myself free but fear dislocating it, his strength is too great. I stumble up the stairs behind me and I startle to feel dizzy. I think it’s safe to say I’ve had too much.

“No,” I whine, “I don’t want to! Stop! Please! I don’t want to! No!”

“Hey!” A booming voice echoes from the bottom of the stairs.

Rapid footsteps approach from behind me and a rush of relief consumes me when Steve appears beside me. He places a protective hand on my back.

“What the hell is going here?” He directs at Billy, taking note of his fist wrapped around my wrist.

“Nothing that concerns you, Harrington. Y/N and I were just heading upstairs.” He jolts his hand forward, causing me to traveling with it.

Steve instantly pries Billy’s hand from my body. Then, shoves him in the back, flying him forward to land with his ass on the stairs. “Don’t you ever touch her again! You hear me?!” He sneers. His face turns this deep red as he pants angrily.

The two start bickering but I can’t keep up. I see three Steves and a couple Billys shouting in each other’s faces. I lean against the railing unsteadily and slide down to sit on the steps. My eyes suddenly feel very heavy.

“I’m going to go to bed now,” I announce to no one in particular.

I decide to get some rest and shut my eyes. It’s okay, Steve’s here. He’ll protect me.

I’m not sure how much time has past when I hear Tommy and some of the other basketball boys come to break up the fight.

“Come on Y/N,” I hear Steve whisper to me, “let’s get you home.”

Feeling as light as a feather, I’m picked up like a sleepy child off the ground. For a moment, I fall asleep again. I rest my head on his chest and ponder the rare opportunity to sleep without being afraid of being eaten by a monster.

“Y/N?” I hear someone repeatedly call my name. “Y/N, wake up!”

I ease open my eyes and at first my vision is blurry but then they eventually adjust. Steve glances down at me as he we cross the threshold hold to the front yard.

“You smell like sunshine and all things exquisite,” I mumble to myself, adjusting myself in his arms to curl closer to his warmth.

“Even when hammered you still manage to be a walking thesaurus,” he teases.

Opps, he heard me. Oh well, I wasn’t lying. He smells like vanilla, the ocean, sugar, spice, and everything nice.

Goosebumps course over my skin as a brisk October breeze hits me. I shiver slightly and Steve holds me closer.

“We’re almost to my car. I’ll turn on the heat high. You’re okay,” he promises calmly.

Playing the hero, Steve places me into the passenger seat gently and straps me in. I toss my head to the side and rest my eyes again. He shuts the door for me before jogging to the driver’s side. The car drowns out the sound of chaos coming from the party and creates a sense of security. Steve slides behind the wheel and for some reason I choose now to act reasonable.

“Have you been drinking? If so, you shouldn’t drive,” I state like a health textbook.

He chuckles, popping in the keys. “I’m sober. Promise.”

“That’s nice. Good to know,” I yawn.

The last thing I can remember of the ride home is Steve turning on the car.

______________________________________

I wake up silently as Steve pulls up in front of my house. He’s unaware of my stare as he finishes parking and turning off the car.

“Hazel,” I tell him, announcing my woken state.

He looks to me with scrunched eyebrows, all confused. It’s cute when he does that. He’s cute. Geez, what the heck am I saying? He’s dating my best friend! Steve is Steve and Katherine, we don’t mix, at least that way.

“What?” He questions, turning to face me.

“Your eyes… they’re hazel…” I repeat softly with a yawn. “But, it really depends on the lighting.”

He snickers, and astonished expression blesses his features. The subtle blush forming on his cheeks makes me smile to see him all bashful because of my comment. He has no idea how gorgeous we truly is, inside and out. He glances down at his lap, at his hands fidgeting with a button on his jacket, then back up at me with hooded eyes.

“See, right now!” I point out, “they’re a dark brown like a burnt caramel, basically black. When you’re really focused on a task or upset about something, they go dark. Then, when you’re really happy or excited, they turn to a light hazel… like seaglass. It’s how I can tell if something’s bothering you. You don’t even have to tell me half the time. All I have to do is look into your eyes and I know,” I state a matter-of-factly with a light snicker.

I shift you see him directly and tuck a few strands of my hair away from my face. He watches my every move patiently, eagerly, for me to say something more, anything. I can’t speak for him but my heart won’t stop racing. Is it possible to have stage fright in a conversation? I feel like a mannequin, on display. Nervously, I twirl my hair at the ends and find myself unable to meet his gaze anymore.

“Your pupils are rarely small,” I add quietly. “They’re usually really big and take up most of your eye giving off the illusion they’re black. One thing that never changes is…”  I make a circle with my finger in front of my eye to demonstrate, “is the gold rim around each of them.” I lower my hand into my lap and play with the end of my sweatshirt. “That’s my favorite part… ” I confess timidly.

I wouldn’t be saying these things if I were sober. I wish he would say something, anything. He must think I’m crazy. He finds me with Billy heading up stairs. I can only imagine what he must think of me now. Embarrassed beyond belief and sobering up, I excuse myself.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I unbuckle myself. “See you Monday!”

Swiftly, I climb out of the car. As I walk toward my front door, I curse myself for acting so stupid! Geez, what was I thinking? ‘The gold rim around each of them, that’s my favorite part!’ What kind of mushy, guhsy, marshmallow fluff is that? Ew! If he never spoke to me again I would judge that as completely reasonable! He has a girlfriend! He’s taken! Completely off limits! Why did I spew out this creepy nonsense to him like a total idiot? I’m not some lovesick teenage girl! I’m going to go to my room, put in some Guns N’ Roses, and just scream into my pillow all weekend! It sounds like an excellent plan to me because I just ruined my friendship with Steve forever! Add Nancy to that list because once he fills her in on what I said I’ll lose both of them!

“Y/N!” He calls after me.

I ignore it as I march faster toward the door. He’s only going to call me crazy because I was acting crazy!

“Y/N, wait!” He repeats as I hear him shut the car door and run toward me.

“Goodnight, Steve!” I urge him away without turning around.

His footsteps speed up until they come to a halt directly behind me. I reach for the door handle, my freedom. Desperately, he grips my forearm and steps in front of me, blocking the front door.

“Look, could you just slow down for a sec?” He yells at me as he pants to catch his breath.

“No! I can’t slow down! I just want to go inside, get in my pajamas, and forget tonight ever happened! Alright? Now, excuse me,” I gesture for him to get out of the way.

Reluctantly, paired with an overly dramatic eye roll, he steps aside. Despite wanting his to leave, I thank him quietly for cracking open the front door slowly, making sure not to wake anyone.

“Nance and I broke up…” Steve drops on me.

My heart leaps and I stop dead in my tracks. Unsure of what to do or say, I remain still in the doorway and wait for him to say more.

“She never loved me,” he explains with a heartbroken tone. “At least… I don’t think she did…”

Shit. Please don’t tell me that, Harrington. It only makes me want you more. He’s always so close but too far out of reach. I care about him more than anything but he’ll never mine. I’m just the friend.

I spin on my heels and offer him a sympathetic smile, “would you like to come in?”

He nods, clearly miserable. I step aside, allowing him in. After shutting the door behind us, I warn him to be quiet so we don’t wake my parents. He nods slowly and slips his hand into mine. Never breaking eye contact with me, he leads the way through the moonlit house toward my room. His platonic touch is so blissful, I can only imagine what it feels like otherwise.

_________________________________

Steve and I sit on my bed in our usual positions with my record player going quietly. He lounges like a patient in therapy and me, acting as his therapist, criss-cross beside him. He explains everything. He describes how drunk Nancy got and how he followed her to the bathroom. It was there they got into a fight. She admitted feeling guilty for the loss of Barb. Then, she called all of it bullshit. Us acting like carefree teenagers, never telling Barb’s parents the truth, her love for Steve, all of it is bullshit. He asked Jonathan to take her home and that’s when he stumbled upon me and Billy.

Watching Steve relive it all and hearing the pain in his voice breaks my heart. How could Nance do this to him? I get that she’s going through something, we all are. I’m by no means normal. I’m hiding everything for Pete’s sake! I haven’t been myself for over a year. Steve was just now becoming truly happy again! He was putting on a brave face for Nancy for so long! Now, she crushed it. She crushed him.

I reach and place my hand over his as they rest intertwined on his stomach. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”

“I really loved her. At least, I think I did. I don’t know anymore. I thought she loved me too.”

“I did too,” I tell him honestly.

He glances away from the ceiling down to me, “what can I do?”

I wish I knew the answer. I wish there was a way I could take away his pain. Yet, I have nothing. I shrug, “I’m not entirely sure. I think you should at least talk to her.

Tomorrow, of course, when she’s sobered up. Perhaps, she was just drunk and didn’t mean what she said. She wasn’t in the proper mindset.”

“So I shouldn’t take what she said to heart?”

“Well, there’s also the argument that drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Does the same go for you?” He snickers.

I laugh, “sometimes.”

“So you don’t like the gold in my eyes? I thought it was your favorite part?” He smirks, turning to lay on his side and face me. My hand would’ve fallen off his hadn’t he flipped his over to catch it.

Ugh, he’s such a sneaky jerk! His cheeky smirk only grows with my silence. Warmth rushes to my cheeks as I bashfully hide my face.

“Yeah… about that…” I laugh nervously, “let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Should I forget that you also said I smell like sunshine and everything exquisite?” He adds to the torment.

I groan, tossing my head back. This must count as torture. “Preferably, yes,” I request shortly.

We share a laugh at my annoyed reaction. He’s impossible! Even he should be mopping he still manages to tease me!

A comfortable silence fills the air and I stare down at the pillow in my lap as I play with the lettering on it.

________________________________

Masterlist

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[ptergwen]

from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

-

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

-

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

[angeli-marco-writes]

Tom Felton - Baby on the Brain

A/N - First request! I hope this is what you wanted, I really like this idea. I don’t know Tom, nor do I claim to, and the other characters are fictional figments. To celebrate 100 followers, I'm uploading this early. Thank you!

Warnings - overloads of fluff, mentions of baby sick, mild language, slight angst, hints to a breeding kink whoops, lightly implied smut.

Summary - Visiting Tom’s brother and his new baby should be a walk in the park, really, but some unwitting truths come to ahead that you can’t refute. You’ve always wanted a family, but does Tom? (Request for Tom Felton: you guys meet his brother's new baby and then decide to have your own.)

Tom’s bruised knuckles rap thrice against the oak wood of his brother's front door, squeezing your smaller, trembling hand in his, running his fingers over the band of the ring in pride of place. Taking a deep breath in sync with yours, he turns his twinkling blue eyes towards you, lending you a twitch of a reassuring smile.

“Why are you so nervous? It’s only my brother,” he says, his voice gruff following the cigarette he smoked in the car.

“It’s the baby I wanna see,” you breathe, “less nervous, more jittery.”

“Maybe you should’ve gone for tea this morning instead of a double shot coffee.”

You nudge his ribs with your elbow, and then his overly sensitive hip bone with yours, coaxing a gentle chuckle from his lips, “Maybe I wouldn’t have needed it if you hadn’t kept me up so late.”

The devilish, shit-eating grin creeping onto his lips tells you that he feels no remorse, but then again, you’d take tiredness and a night like that over anything. His fingers twine tighter around yours as footsteps begin to shuffle behind the door, followed by an ear-piercing, blood-curdling screech, absolutely unholy.

“See he’s having fun with the kid, then?” you begin to whisper, but your words trail off as Tom’s very exhausted looking brother appears in the doorway, feeding bottle in hand, burping rag over his shoulder, deep purple bags beneath his eyes.

“Alright mate?” Tom greets, stepping one loafer-clad foot over the threshold, offering his brother a man hug.

“Tired, yeah. How you doing, man?” he responds warmly, patting Tom’s back.

“I’m good, I’m good, Jon.” Tom says, though you can feel him almost imperceptibly tense beside you.

Turning ever so slightly, all eyes are cast on you. Naturally, you offer Tom’s brother your warmest smile, teeth and all, sympathy welling both in your eyes and your heart. Kids must be tough if he looks like this with a three-week old.

“And who’s this?” Jonathan asks, sweetly, inquisitive more than anything, though he does look at you a bit peculiarly, scrutinising you, perhaps your outfit, the mom jeans you paired with a cropped cardigan perhaps not his style.

“This is my fiancée, Y/N.” Tom says, his words holding an inflection or pride perhaps, but whatever it is, it sends a pang of excitement shooting down your spine, a smirk creeping its way onto your lips, one you have to bite back, “I’m sorry I haven’t bought her over before, but you know what it’s like.”

“Yeah, course. Nice to meet you.”

“And you! Where’s the baby?”

Tom chuckles softly, and he curls his arm around your body, hip to hip. “She loves kids.”

Jonathan stands aside, a welcoming hand to beckon you into his home, the laminate floors covered in baby commodities, pastel blankets strewn everywhere, but other than, surprisingly clean considering Tom mentioned his brother was a hoarder and was always the most untidy of the bunch all throughout their youth. Considering how bad Tom is and how often you’re stuck cleaning away his dirty dishes and putting his laundry on, you were expecting far worse, but maybe Tom was the worst of them all along.

He tickles between your ribs as you wander through the halls, greeted in the back room by a tiny blonde headed baby, cradled in two arms of a just as exhausted looking lady donning a kind smile, stars dancing in her eyes as she stares down at her temporarily placated child. Tufts of blonde hair pair with enamoured hazel eyes to compliment the soft yellow of their clothes and the rosiness of their chubby cheeks. The hair, the nose, the tiny dimples; this baby looks just like Tom - and all his brothers - did when they were little dots themselves. The same little treasures. You, however, were an unattractive baby compared to this ball of sunshine.

“This is Ainsley.” Tom’s sister in law says lazily, her words falling off as she gapes in adoration at the gurgling blob of joy in her embrace. “And I’m Zara.”

“I’m Y/N.” you smile widely.

Should he not know better, Tom would quite possibly think you’re going to either collapse of hyperventilate, judging by the flush of your cheeks, your elevated pulse, heart beating out of your chest, the tiny, delightful, desperate whimpering noises from the back of your throat, elicited from a single glance into the babies eyes.

Said baby begins to make some indistinguishable noises and flails its arms around faintly, feebly, in your general direction. You’d be lying if your heart didn’t do a somersault in your chest.

“M- may I hold Ainsley?” you stammer out, extending your covered arms in a similar cradle to that of Ainsley’s mother.

“God, you’d be doing me a right favour,” she retorts, her accent broad, Geordie.

She shuffles softly down the pale green sofa, so perfectly complimenting the oak floors, to make a room for you that you take gratefully, and position yourself astutely against the back of the sofa. Before retrieving the baby, though, Tom grasps for a muslin cloth and affectionately drapes it over you, affectionate in the manner that he does it with such care, grazing his thumbs over your collarbones as he goes, ever so gently, barely even a touch, but enough to let you know he’s there. He holds your gaze for a moment, his lips twitching into a smile. This alone sends butterflies to your stomach and sets a sheen of fog about your head, taking you even more by surprise when the baby is laid in your arms, writhing and smiling and blinking so sweetly.

“Hiya darling,” you coo, “aren’t you just the most precious thing.”

“Gender neutral name and clothing...” Tom interjects, sidling up on the arm of the sofa beside you, “may I ask their sex and the pronouns you’re using?”

“Male, but we’re trying to be as gender neutral as possible so they can grow up not feeling pressured.”

You can’t wipe the beam from your face, or prevent the small ‘awwh!’ from escaping under your breath, curling the cloth slightly around the child, “That’s a wonderful attitude. Tommy, would you fetch my bag from the car, please?”

In a second, he’s bouncing up, his hand thrust deep in his chinos to fish for the car key. “You asked me to grab it before we got out as well, sorry sweetheart. Back in a minute.” With a nod to his brother, he’s racing out the door, his footsteps thundering through the house. Your attention, however, remains glued to the baby.

“Would you like me to set them down for tummy time afterwards, or is he going back to sleep?” You ponder aloud, eyes glued to the wry tufts of hair so soft and silky between your fingers.

“If he falls asleep in your arms, that’s fab. We’re just livin’ minute by minute.”

You release a small laugh, “Fair enough.”

Jon sits beside you tentatively, between yourself and his wife, his arm wrapping around her as she leans her body weight against him, her hair--held in a bun before, now just kind of flopping into her eyeline--tickling her shoulder and causing him to wince a little.

“How do you know so much about babies?”

The sigh you don’t mean to release is wistful at best, plain pining at worst--and probably most obvious. “I’ve always wanted them, kids, but Tommy’s the first guy I’ve settled down with, but despite being engaged, we’re still taking things slowly.”-- You shrug, as best as you can with the baby in hold, and cock your head to the side to peer down better at every tiny freckle on Ainsley’s skin.--“I love him to bits, but he wants to wait, and I’m still young, a good chunk younger than he is.”

“If it helps,” he starts, “I’ve never seen Tom as in love with someone as he is you. He’s besotted. You say the word, he’ll do it.”

“I know. I just don’t want to make him do anything unless he’s 100% sure.”

“And that’s what makes you his perfect girl.”

Your heart swells. There’s a beat, a pause of silence, filled only with the zapping of the car outside, no more than a couple of seconds before Jon’s wife speaks again.

“Enough of that. Show us the ring!”

If they’re all this excitable at something as simple as your engagement ring, perhaps you’ll fit in with his family better than you anticipated. ** Certainly, if their amiable gasps are anything to go by as you display your hand to them, your ring finger held out, supporting Ainsley’s head in the crook of your elbow as they gawk at the diamond glistening in the sunlight streaming in from their floor-to-ceiling patio doors. You have to admit it’s a pretty damn beautiful ring, the one you always dreamed of. An oval cut 0.5ct diamond held in place by a delicate split-shank 18ct gold band. It glows ethereally in whatever light there is, but most spectacularly in Tom’s eyes.

“It’s the most gorgeous ring,” she gushes, “apart from mine.”

A smile creeps its way in. You’re not entirely sure what the hell you’ve done right in your life to deserve this incredible, expensive ring, or even Tom for that reason. This is the life you’ve always dreamed of, the one that Tom’s brother has, and if you’re even half as happy as they are after being married for 5 years then you’ll consider your life to be a great success. You always wanted the quiet family life in the suburbs, with a lovely house and a nice garden and a couple of kids, working a part time job that pays well and allows you time for your children and your husband… then you fell in love with him. Loving Tom, though, that’s the true gift in your life, and you’d take him over that life any day. He’s the best, truly.

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive, since Tom comes puffing into the room, his heavy footsteps coming to a halt in the doorway as he hands over your abnormally large handbag.

“Here,” he gasps, but turns his gaze upon your hand, witnessing their marvelling at the rock he put there, “it is a pretty boss ring, isn’t it? Worth every penny.”

He bends down to ghost a kiss over your lips, his slightly long dark-blonde hair tickling your cheeks, smiling warmly down at you before deciding to sidle up next to you in the small gap between you and the arm of the sofa. However, half way down, his hip bones are digging in, and he winces up like he’s just been shocked. You know how sensitive his hip bones are, a fat you use against him incredibly often for all the best reasons, but today, he’s been so good, and you shan’t make him sit uncomfortably.

Keeping your hold on Ainsley--who’s almost asleep already, quieter than he was before with only faint gurgles escaping, their eyes droopy--steady, you begin to stand, and shuffle yourself up a bit, allowing Tom to take your previous seat, before placing yourself back down with as little ‘umph’ as you can manage, hooking your thigh over tom’s in the process. He knows what to do, it’s always been your calling card at home or at a party: as soon as you sling your leg over his, he pulls you into his lap eerie time, and today is no different. Well, perhaps it is, as he furrows his dark eyebrows inquisitively, gazing adoringly at you and the child in your arms, waiting for your nod okay before he hitches his arms around your waist and tugs you, as gently as he possibly can with his delicate grip, into his lap, giving you both ample space.

“Babe,” you whisper, “can you fetch the gift out of my bag?”

He’s instantly ferreting around until he finds the presents you neatly wrapped in polka dot paper, and hands them to Jonathan. Eagerly, they're unwrapped, and it seems that your many arguments over what to get Tom’s niece or nephew were worth it, considering the fact their eyes begin to brim with tears.

A soft grey elephant plush, holding a yellow heart, embellished with ‘Ainsley Felton, love Uncle Tom’, and a Peter Rabbit china crockery set for when they’re older.

“Thank you,” Zara exclaims, the way only a mother can, in gracious relief, “they’re adorable, so perfect.”

And before you know it, both you and Tom are being embraced wholeheartedly, as though you’re already their family. It’s been a life since anyone besides Tom hugged you, but this, this is nice.

“Well, lunch?”

Said lunch is a tumultuous affair, with a delivery pizza being ordered from the local dominoes, but with Ainsley so comfortable and calm in your arms, it was an elected decision not to move him, and instead, Tom fed you your pizza. It isn’t the first time, his love language seems to be feeding you things, but normally it's strawberries or chocolate truffles. Never before have you covered an entire medium pizza being fed to you while trying to avoid dropping any toppings or tomato sauce onto a peaceful baby, but that is just an indicator for the rest of the afternoon, Tom’s hands or eyes never once leaving you.

Completely accidentally, Jonathan and his wife drift off to sleep. You smile sadly at the sight, unable to blame them, they must be knackered, the problem simply lies in the fact that Ainsley begins to stir just as they drift off.

“See if there’s any milk in the fridge, please, I think they’re using formula.” you hiss to Tom, standing up cautiously.

Aghast, he grapples for words, “I-I’m sorry, what?!”

“Forget it,” you sigh, “take the baby and change him, please.”

“Change him?!” Again, that same tone of staggered surprise. “I don’t know how!”

“You have four nieces and nephews already, yes you do. He’s going to start screaming in a minute and wake your very tired, very groggy brother. Change the baby.”

When your eyes begin to thin, nostrils flaring, eyebrows raising, he knows not to mess with you, so he swallows thickly, his throat bobbing up and down, and scoops a crying Ainsley from your arms. As he treads upstairs, you find your way back into the kitchen, and find on the counter the bottles done with their sterilisation. This is okay, this is great, you know how to do this, and years of babysitting taught you exactly how to do this. It’s almost like that scene from Outnumbered, assembling the bottle with your eyes closed, muscle memory taking over from your brain. When your eyes flutter open, you almost let out a little squeal at your achievement. If only you could learn this all over again, have this life with a little child of your own, with Tom being as good a dad as he’s acting right now. When you handed him the baby, though, you couldn’t help but notice the fear that flashed over his face, paling him a shade, his pupils dilating to erase the blue. You wish he wasn’t so scared…

A few minutes later, with the kettle boiled and the formula made, you appear in the front room where Tom is swaddling Ainsley, holding the bean against his beating heart, making only the very slightest movements to entertain them.

“Give him a bit of tummy time while the milk cools, do you want to feed him?” you offer, stepping over the threshold .

“N-no,” he exhales slowly, “I think you’d best do that. Can I just put them down?”

“I’ll grab the mat from the corner”--you spied it as you walked in, a colourful crinkle mat rolled up and tucked away from view against the cream walls, behind the flat-screen on its grand stand--“and then yeah.”

Even as he puts Ainsley down, stomach first, onto the playmat, he looks petrified. Taking a seat on the floor to watch over them, you tug on Tom’s tan trouser leg. Indecisiveness gnaws at him, tugging him away from you, but he concedes to your widened puppy eyes, and tumbles onto the shag pile rug next to you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders like its second nature.

“You okay?” you whisper.

“Yeah, course. You?”

“Yeah.”

You let your head fall to his arm, a blissful smile creeping its way onto your lips when Ainsley looks you dead in the eye, hazel orbs twinkling, full of hope.

“I love you.”

“I know,” he hums, “I love you too.”

“Then why are you being so… prickly with me today?”

He shifts away from you the most miniscule amount, “I’m not.”

“We’ve been together for years, Tom. I know when you’re bloody lying.” you lower your voice for the final words, “now tell me why you’re being such a pouty puss.”

You mimic his frown, knowing full well that he hates it when you do so. He hates seeing you sad, even if it's just pretend, so makes a swooping move to kiss the frown away.

“Would you leave me if I said I didn’t want kids?” his voice breaks on the final word, little more than a whisper, but his next move is so animated that it almost startles you with the bottle in hand. “I mean, you know I want them. I love kids, I want us to have a family, but…”

“Nothing would ever make me leave you, Tom. You couldn’t do anything that’d cause me to fall out of love with you.”

The pain in your statement sends a shock through you, singing your heart, poisoning your mind, sending a sour bile running up your throat. No matter how many daggers shoot at your heart, it remains to be true. You’d do anything for him. If, tomorrow, he turned around and said he wanted the two of you to stay together but never marry and never have children, you wouldn’t back down without a fight, but you’d accept it. Despite all your lifelong hopes, nothing trumps Tom.

“I’m gonna feed Ainsley now.”

Picking the baby up from the rug, you put a bib around his neck, and throw another cloth around you, taking a seat in the corner chair to feed him.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” he says, and walks out, shoulders slumped.

You watch him wistfully as he leaves the room, and even when he returns--refusing to look at you--your gaze is still trained on his every move, slumping into the shag pile rug to watch the TV on a low volume. You can feel his eyes on you, that burning pair of eyes that follow you everywhere, your every movement, his ears honed, trained to your every shift and whisper. The second you turn upon him though, he’s looking away.

“I’ll put Ainsley down now,” you announce after burping him, “we need to leave soon if we want to make it home before dark.”

He doesn’t even bat an eye as you sashay past him, Ainsley’s cries muffled by a dummy, but the second he hears your footsteps heading back downstairs, his own begin to thunder, pounding against the stairs to meet you halfway.

“Wait,” he whispers, “come on, sit down, talk to me. I love you.”

A sigh heaves your chest, “I love you too. Talk about what?”

“You’re being arsey with me.”

“Because you said you don’t want kids!”

“Well I didn’t mean it, I’m just”--he pinches the bridge of his nose, and ushers you up on the stairs, your calves hitting the carpet--“there’s a lot to think about. We just met the kid, and I saw how your face lit up when you held him.”

“You know I want kids, Tom.”

“I know, but can we not talk about kids for a second? I want to talk about you. You’re my fiancée, I want to make you my wife. I’m just scared.”

“What of? You have nothing to be scared of. I’ll be here no matter what.”

“That’s why I’m scared!” he exasperates, flailing his arms about, “I don’t want you to senselessly follow me and love me if I can’t give you what you want. I’m scared of fucking this up, fucking you up. I’m scared of this going wrong, with children or marriage or saying something wrong, because I can’t lose you.”

“Tom,” you murmur.

Your hand flies up to cup his jaw, grazing your thumb over the stubble growing there, the faintest shadow.

“I love you. I- I need you. Y/N, sweetheart, please. I just wanna stay how we are, just stay this way for a bit, slow down because the world is moving too fast, and I’m gonna fall, but I can’t drag you down with me.” he croaks, cradling your neck with trembling, callused hands. “Can we stay how we are? Just us? Just you and me?”

“Babe you aren’t gonna lose me. Everything else off the table, we’ve got this, we’ve got us. We can stop the world and get off if that's what you want. Nothing is immediate, everything can wait.” you promise, your eyes boring into his.

All at once, his lips come crashing down onto yours, swallowing any inhibitions with his lavishing tongue, his hot breath slanting and fanning over your lips, leaving innocent adoration in their wake. Until a piercing scream resounds.

“Except maybe that.”

You duck from his grip skilfully, and slip into Ainsley’s room, two fingers reaching out to tickle their stomach, causing the scream to hiccup in their throat momentarily. Then, as if wondering what to do next, he just stares up at you imploringly, questioningly.

“Come on Ainsley, I just set you down to sleep. Be good and let mummy and daddy sleep too, okay?” you coo, tucking his blanket back up to his neck, slipping his cuddly toy closer, “go back to sleep.”

This child is already one with an attitude, you can tell that by the vehemence with which he yells out. You don’t even have to think twice before you’re stooping into the cot, swathing him in blankets, and lifting him to your bosom, where his screams fall to mere gurgles.

“Do you think he’s sleeping in the bed with them?” you ask Tom, keeping your voice at a steady whisper even with the slight bounces you’re offering the baby, “because I think that causes parental problems above all else because they’re being kicked in the back all night. Still, decreases the risk of SIDS. Why do they have a cot up if they are? He can’t sleep without contact…”

You don’t even realise you’re thinking aloud until Tom presses his thumbs into your shoulders, buckling your whole body. It’s the instant tension reliever, truly, and your shoulders do seem tighter today, perhaps from all the baby wrangling.

“Lets just sit, shall we?”

You do, taking up refuge in the front room once again, with an extra blanket of his, as well as a supply of cuddly toys, rattles, and dummies. Tom watches you with fascination for the rest of the afternoon, everything you do drawing his full attention; enticing, entrapping. His heart swells at the sight of you bouncing Ainsley around to make him laugh, cooing and giggling with him to coax a smile back after a wail that you hushed down, holding him so closely as he sleeps. He’s finally seeing it, after all these years, you, in your true home habitat, caring for a child, so kindly, so motherly, so naturally. Everything you do instantly seems to set the infant at ease. He knows it should be him, Ainsley is his nephew, but… you’re just better.

In fact, before he even realises it, he’s craving what he doesn’t have. Not that he can’t have it -- you’ve been together for a long time, you’ve discussed a future with children more times than he can count, and of course he wants it. Tom, he’s always wanted to be a dad, to read his kids books and sing them lullabies and show them what daddy did for work… but it's always been a pipe dream. Your wishes of a family have never come to fruition, and all because of his selfish fears.

The world can’t stop turning just because he’s getting cold feet and wants to climb off for a minute to catch his breath. That’s not how life works. If you want something, you’ve gotta grab it by the balls, because the opportunity will be gone before you know it. And with Tom? He won’t lose you because he won’t take a chance to make you happy and give you what you want. If anything, seeing the crestfallen look that settles between your brows when you actually have to give Ainsley back to their parents just further instils and confirms the idea in his head. There’s his future, in his mind's eye, as clear as day. This is what he needs to do, but better still, this is what he wants.

The drive back to your home is spent in relative silence, and a pensive one at that. You know like instinct that Tom is replaying your final conversation with Jonathan and his wife the same way you are. After all, the simple words did put a dampener on your reconciliation. Your hand is on the gearstick the whole way, though, your fingers entwined with his, the simple contact enough for you. You were right at lunch: all day it's been his hands or his eyes on you: you like it when it's both simultaneously, the way it was when you said your goodbyes.

Tom’s hands settled on your hips, his chin atop your head, and you just fell into his enveloping warmth, smiling lazily at the couple you rescued for the afternoon.

“Thanks so much, we owe you one.” Jonathan said, giving Tom another one of those manly hugs as you stand in the dusk-darkened wooden porch.

“Really,” Zara chimed in, her feet shuffling on the tiled floor as she held her husband's hand, “you’re welcome to have him any time. That is, of course, if you don’t have a little one of your own by the time you’ve recovered from that blighter.”

You forced a dry chuckle at her words, an awkward sound, but you seemed to recover well enough, “Well Ainsley’s been a pleasure, and I’m glad we could give you some respite. Take care.”

“And you. Drive safe.”

“We will,” Tom said, offering them a smile, flashing his keys, keeping his grip on you resolute, “thanks for having us.”

Their words still loom over you like a dark cloud. It was a throwaway comment, one they’d have thought nothing of, and most people, and even you on a good day, but you’d had that… spat earlier on that changed everything. Dredging it up would just put an even further dampener on your mood, though, and with a drive home in the semi-darkness already hanging over you like a massive impending storm cloud of fear, that’s definitely not ideal.

“Nice baby, Ainsley,” Tom mentions, turning his indicator on to pull off the dual carriageway.

“Yeah, and he’s cute.”

“Nice eyes.”

And a couple more comments like those are the only conversation you share as the journey goes by, but soon enough, you’re on the home stretch, and your street rolls into view. With your head comfortably rolled back against the headrest, your eyes shut from a tiring day of exertion and childminding , you don’t notice Tom stepping out the car and unravelling his grip from you. Only does it become apparent when he opens your door and unclips your seat belt, kissing your lips tenderly, the chapped skin arising you from whatever zoned out, thoughtful state you were in before.

“Come on, let's get you inside sweetheart.” he murmurs, taking your hands in his as he helps you out the car, His chivalry never fails to astound you--he even carries your bag.

“Thanks darlin’.”

You follow him inside, kicking off your shoes routinely, shrugging off your coat to hang on the peg with your name etched above it. What happens next, though, is what shocks you the most: this isn’t part of your normal ‘returning home’ routine, not if you’ve had a day as tiring as this one. You’re neither complaining nor disappointed, though. How can you be when Tom’s lips latch onto your pulse point and he has you writhing in seconds, only his arm around the small of your back there to support you.

In one fell swoop, he has you spun around and pinned to the wall, his figure with lust-blown eyes hovering above you, every line in his face so loving, even the subtle part of his lips. They only do that when he’s so desperate to kiss you he can barely breathe, when he’s so eager to confess his love again and again that all other words are inconsequential. This is your Tom.

“Let’s try for a baby.” he says, completely resolutely, no trace of hesitation anywhere in his perfectly, delectably gruff tone. “I want one, I want us, and I don’t wanna wait to build a family with you.”

You can feel tears begin to form in the corners of your shock-widened eyes. This… this is- What changed his mind? Just hours ago, he was hell bent against the idea, but now? His cheeks are glowing at the mere prospect. Courtesy and patience be damned, that is if you can get the words out with how choked up you are…

“Really? Y-you mean it?”

His faint smile widens into a full blown grin, one that confirms everything for you. This is it, this is the Tom you agreed to marry, the happy Tom, the smiley Tom, the one who can barely contain his excitement even as he nods, a stray lock of dark blonde hair falling into his eyes as he does so.

Reasonably, you can’t be expected to hold back, and when his hair gets long enough that it falls into his eyeline? That’s your main weakness, so who can blame you when you catapult yourself up onto him, your legs joining around his wait, your arms settling around his neck. He holds you right back, catches you like he was already waiting, and pins you against the wall again. Perhaps the serotonin is too much as you both grin into a searing kiss, the every press of his lips against yours holding more passion than you can fathom a cohesive thought about. He’s… incredible.

And besides, with this enthusiasm, his kiss alone leaving you gasping and clutching onto his hair for some kind of grounding, perhaps it’ll be the first time lucky…

[endcryst4l]

fairy tale

the sequel to favorite galaxies! the song that is referenced later on and is the title is fairy tale by homemade haircuts :] (read the third part here)

After multiple pleads of Tommy, Wilbur and even Phil, Techno finally built up enough courage to ask you to come over again.

“I did it, (Y/N)’s coming over for dinner tonight.” Techno told his family when he came downstairs from his room. Phil and Wilbur cheered, Tommy began jumping up and down. Techno chuckled, “they said they were going to bring dessert as well, but needed to know whether you guys preferred vanilla or chocolate cake.” 

“Aw they don't need to do that.” Phil said before Techno cut him off, “That’s what I said as well but I wasn’t able to change their mind.”

“Chocolate?” Wilbur suggested and they all nodded, Techno off to his room again to talk with you. 

“Hey (Y/N)?” he said as he unmuted himself in the discord call. “Shit!” you yelped, “Sorry, you scared me.” Techno laughed, “Sorry, sorry. They said chocolate. They’re all really excited to see you again, especially Tommy.” “I’m really excited to see them too. How have they been doing?” you asked. Techno smiled, “good! Wilbur hasn’t stopped asking to meet you and neither has Tommy. He’s literally been asking about you multiple times a day.” You aww’ed and Techno smiled, excited to see you again. “That’s so sweet. I’m really excited to meet Wilbur and see Tommy again, he’ll love the dessert I’m bringing.” 

“What are you making?” Techno asked. “Ahhh that my dear is a secret. Now I must go to work on it.” you said and Techno huffed, making you laugh. “Hey I’ll be there tonight, okay? Don’t get too sad, bye Tech!” “I’ll try, bye (Y/N).” 

You smiled to yourself as you stood up to make chocolate cupcakes with galaxy frosting. 

After finishing piping the cupcakes, you smiled. They looked pretty good, you couldn’t wait to see Tommy’s reaction to them.

~

Your hand reached to knock on the door when it suddenly opened to reveal Techno with Tommy in his arms. “(Y/N)!” the toddler yelled excitedly as he reached for you. “Tommy!” you exclaimed, hugging him and shooting Techno a smile. “How have you been, big guy?” you asked Tommy. “Good! I made more drawings today.” he told you. “All of which are galaxies by the way.” Techno added, gesturing for you to come inside. “Oh really? Show me!” you said to Tommy and he nodded, climbing out of your arms when you reached the living room. 

“Hey (Y/N)! It’s good to see you again.” Phil said when he saw you. “Thanks for letting me come over again.” you smiled and you turned to Wilbur, “nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N).” Wilbur smiled, “Oh trust me, I know. Neither of my brothers have shut up about you. Nice to meet you too, I’m Wilbur.”

You laughed and turned to look at Techno, whose face was now a deep red. “Wilbur I’m going to ki-” he began before Tommy interrupted him. “Look!” he said and he held up one of his drawings. You quickly shot Techno a wink before complimenting Tommy on his drawings, also telling him some new facts you came across online.

Techno’s eyes widened, his face an even deeper shade of red. He stood there frozen for a split second before he heard a small snicker of Wilbur. That asshole. Phil smacked his oldest son, making Techno snort. Deserved.

“So what did you make for dessert (Y/N)?” Phil asked. “That’s a surprise. Speaking of, is there anywhere I can put it?” you answered and he nodded, getting up to lead you to the kitchen. “You really can’t show me?” He tried again and you chuckled, “okay then, but don’t tell them anything.” 

He zipped his mouth shut and you grabbed the container from your bag, opening the lid to reveal the cupcakes. “Holy shit (Y/N) these look great! Oh my god Tommy will love these.” he said. “Aw thank you, I really hope so.” you said as he got out some ingredients so the container would fit. “Is there any way I can help with dinner?” You offered but he firmly denied again, calling out for Wilbur.

“Yes father?” he said when entering the kitchen. “You’re helping me with dinner.” Phil answered and Wilbur saluted him. You wondered how the three brothers could be this different. “So (Y/N), what did you make for dessert?” Wilbur asked, making you laugh. Different yet all the same. “All of your curiosity is making it very hard but I’m not telling you.” 

Wilbur pouted at you and you shook your head no, you weren’t going to slip up now. 

You felt someone tap against your leg and you looked down to see Tommy. “Hey Tommy, what’s up?” you asked as you crouched to face him. He leaned in to whisper, “Techno told me to come save you.” You giggled and followed Tommy back to Techno, who was sitting on the couch. He smiled when he saw you walking to him, he missed you already. “What’s up?” you asked, sitting next to him. Tommy quickly crawled in your lap, melting the boy in front of you. 

“I- uhm I listened to the playlist you sent me and I really liked it.” he told you and your eyes lit up, “really? What song was your favorite?” “I think it was called Fairy Tale? The band name was something with haircuts in it I believe.” 

You felt your stomach explode with butterflies at the realization he was talking about the love song that reminded you of him. Thoughts were now flooding your mind, about if he thought of you when listening to the song, did he even realize what the lyrics were, did he just liked the song with no further intention, does he like y- “(Y/N?)” Techno suddenly said, snapping you back to the conversation. “Hmm? Oh- Fairy Tale! That’s a good song, one of my favorites as well actually.” you answered blushing. Techno grinned and took a glance at Tommy, seeing him nearly asleep. His hand reached to poke the younger awake but you swatted his hand away. Techno raised his eyebrow at you, to which you smiled and calmly told Tommy to stay awake for a little bit longer. In response Tommy huffed and cuddled closer, which was a bad idea on his part. Techno began tickling him, earning loud laughter and screams from Tommy. 

Phil and Wilbur looked at each other at the same time, then quickly poking their heads out of the kitchen to see what was causing the disturbance. Wilbur sighed in relief at the sight of the three of you laughing, going back to the kitchen just as quick leaving Phil who stayed put a little longer. He couldn't stop the massive smile from spreading to his face and the warm feeling rising. Wilbur called out for Phil who, with one last glance, returned to the kitchen

Once Tommy calmed down from his hysteria Techno put on some Avatar, also slowly scooting closer to you. Upon noticing you smiled softly and put your arm lightly around his shoulders. Techno’s face heated up, not really used to this closeness. He could say he didn’t like it but he wasn’t really the one for lying. 

After one episode Wilbur started setting the table, quickly eyeing the three of you, a mixture of shock and pride on his face. He didn’t know how his brother managed it, but he was impressed. “Dinner’s nearly ready.” he told them, getting nods in response. Tommy had fallen asleep after all, so you attempted to wake him up. Attempted being the key word, he was still half asleep when you took a seat at the dinner table. “Tommy, you know you can’t have dessert without eating dinner right?” Phil told him and Tommy quickly woke up, climbing off your lap to his own chair. The two other brothers and you were laughing but Phil quickly shushed all of you and told you what was for dinner, “Roast veggies, roast potatoes and steak!”

He gave everyone their portions, everyone also immediately digging in. You complimented him, it was really good. Phil thanked you, soon the room filled with conversation and laughs. 

~

“Dessert time!!” Tommy exclaimed excitedly as everyone finished up their dinner and cleared off the table. You chuckled and walked to the kitchen with Phil. While he was boiling the water and grabbing the cups and plates, you took the container from the fridge and started placing them on little plates.

“Surprise!” Phil said as you two walked out of the kitchen, both holding a tray. All of the boys went quiet, excited and curious. You put your tray down, earning wow’s from Techno, Wilbur and Tommy. “Tech! Look, they’re like galaxies!” Tommy said and Techno laughed, “yeah they are. They look great (Y/N).” You smiled, really happy that Tommy recognized them. “You‘ve done a great job, these look incredible.” Wilbur said and you thanked him while handing out the plates with the cupcakes. Phil filled up the tea cups and soon new conversation was flowing. Wilbur asked a few questions, curious about the person his brother was in love with. You answered all of them happily, Techno butting in when the questions were school related. 

It didn't take long before more embarrassing childhood stories were told, all of you laughing, Techno tallying the times Wilbur embarrassed him in his head for later payback. Tommy was telling you about how he told his best friend Tubbo about galaxies as well and that he loved them too. You tried not to physically melt and told him to invite him over so you could draw together. Tommy got so excited he jumped off his chair and started running around the house, the remaining at the table laughing again. You took a glance at the clock, caught off guard by the way time had flown by. 

“I hate to be that person but I’m afraid I have to get going.” you said, getting understanding nods from everyone. Tommy abruptly stopped and dramatically huffed. He dragged himself back to his chair and sat down with a big pout. “Hey don’t worry bud, I’m sure (Y/N) will be back soon.” Phil said to him, making him look at you hopefully. “Yeah I will! Don’t worry about it too much, okay big man?” you smiled and he nodded, getting up and giving you a hug. Phil glanced at Techno, watching his expression change to pure and absolute adoration. It made Phil happy, even if he never knew what it truly felt like. The happy sparkles that Techno’s eyes held whenever you were there were enough. 

Wilbur and Techno cleaned up the table, you had offered to help but your attempts were quickly shut down. You glared at the pair when they walked away, making Phil laugh. Your gaze shifted to Phil, now also glaring at him. He only laughed harder, making Tommy giggle as well. You tried your hardest not to break but when Tommy began laughing as well you broke and laughed along with them.

“Are you going to ask them out?” Wilbur asked Techno, catching the latter off guard. “What? Ask them out? Like to be my partner?” Techno replied and Wilbur nodded. “I-I don’t know. That’s a big step. What if they don't like me and I ruin our friendship? What if they don't want to be friends anymore because they’ll think it’s- I’m weird? What if-” Techno rambled before Wilbur cut him off. “Dude. Do you need new glasses? You two look at each other like you are each other’s world and were literally cuddling on the couch earlier. You said they made a playlist for you right?”, Techno nodded, “well there you have your answer. Trust me, they feel the same.” He was still processing what Wilbur said when he heard your laugh and automatically smiled. Wilbur noticed and chuckled, “you’re so whipped for them, I can’t believe it. What happened with the ‘I’m independent I don’t need anyone ever’ Techno?”

Techno quickly smacked the back of Wilbur’s head before he could get more words out, making Wilbur laugh. Techno rolled his eyes, put away the dishes and walked back to the kitchen table. You smiled at him, getting up to grab your bag and jacket. Meanwhile Wilbur also came back from the kitchen, with your container in hand. “Oh thank you, I completely forgot about that,” you chuckled, “also thanks for letting me stay over again.” “No problem (Y/N), truly. Thank you for the cupcakes, they were really good.” Phil said, “and really pretty!” Tommy added and you giggled, thanking them and saying your goodbyes. 

Techno walked with you to the door, thinking about what Wilbur had said in the kitchen. “Thank you for inviting me, it was a lot of fun.” you told him, interrupting his train of thoughts. “Of course, you’re welcome here any time. I think Tommy likes you more than he likes his own brothers.” he said and you laughed, “impossible. I’m sure he would love watching Avatar with you as well.” He shrugged, “I do prefer watching it with you though.” 

Your cheeks flushed red and a smile crept up on your face. “Well, let’s watch more together soon then.” you said to which he quickly agreed to. He couldn’t wait to have your arm around him again. His cheeks heated up and he quickly looked down.

“I really do have to go though, my parents will kill me if I come home too late.” you said and he nodded, eyes still on the ground. You leaned in to kiss his cheek, just as he looked up to say goodbye. Noticing it on time, you quickly stopped, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. It didn’t help much, both of your faces now inches apart. His face held the same reaction, his heart racing. He thought back to what Phil and Wilbur had said and decided, fuck it, as he leaned in to close the gap and kiss you. You stiffened for a second, you’d silently hope this would happen but were still surprised. Techno noticed and quickly pulled back, apologizing profusely. You tried to tell him it was more than okay, you were just caught off guard but he kept cutting you off with apologies. You shook your head, leaning in again and kissing him. He finally shut up and kissed back, his hands now on your waist and yours on his cheeks. 

Techno pulled back again, looking into your eyes. You raised your eyebrow, wondering why he all of sudden stopped. “I- uhm, well,” he stuttered, your hands dropped to his cheek and he sighed, it was now or never. “Do you- Would you want to be my partner?” he asked quietly. Your eyes widened, shock taking over your expression. Was this real? The boy you’ve been loving since you could remember felt the same? You were brought back to reality by his hands leaving your waist and his mouth opening to apologize. “Yes. Yes I’d love to.” you quickly said, making the biggest smile ever cross Techno’s face. “Really?” he asked and you nodded while laughing, feeling all giddy and happy. He engulfed you in his arms, giving you the biggest hug ever. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, before Techno let you go making you frown. He chuckled, “I know dear, but I don’t want your parents to kill either of us.” “Yeah I guess you’re right. I’ll text you when I get home.” you said before giving him a quick kiss and turning around to walk away. “Bye (Y/N), be careful!” Techno said while waving. “I will!” you told him and waved back with a smile. Holy shit. 

Techno closed the door and leaned against it. Did that really just happen? His heart and stomach were doing backflips. He smiled to himself, you were his partner now.

His smile hadn’t toned down when he walked back to the rest of his family, who were impatiently waiting on him. “And?” “So?” Phil and Wilbur said at the same time, making Techno laugh. “We- I- We’re together now.” he told them, earning the loudest cheers he’s ever heard. “Congratulations man! I’m proud of you.” Phil told him and Techno thanked him, sitting down on the couch with them. “Did you ask them?” Wilbur asked and Techno nodded. “Dude! Congrats. What happened?” He asked and Techno told them everything that happened. 

Tommy, who was supposed to be asleep in his bed, came downstairs after hearing the cheering. “What’s going on?” he asked sleepily and Techno chuckled, “(Y/N) and I are dating.” he answered and the blonde nodded, “does that mean they’ll come over more?” he asked. “I think so, yeah.” Techno told him and Tommy nodded again, walking over to his family and sitting next to Techno. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs. You need to sleep and I need to check if (Y/N) is home safely.” Techo said to Tommy after picking him up and saying to goodnight to his dad and older brother. “Can I say goodnight to them?” Tommy asked and Techno nodded, taking him to his room. He started up his computer, happy to see a message from you. He quickly typed a response before video calling you and putting his headset on Tommy. 

You answered the call almost right away, aww’ing when you saw Tommy with the big headset on. “Hey big man, shouldn’t you be sleeping?” you said and he nodded, “yes but I woke up because they were all being loud and then Techno was going to talk to you and I wanted to say goodnight.” Techno smiled softly, kind of bummed he couldn’t hear your replies. “Awe that’s not good. Next time you just punch Techno lightly and he’ll be quiet.” you said to Tommy, making him giggle mischievously. Techno raised his eyebrow at both of you, that didn’t seem good. “I will. Goodnight (Y/N)!” Tommy said while waving. “Goodnight! Sleep well and sweet dreams.” you smiled and waved back. “I’ll be right back.” Techno said into the headset as he put it down and went to put Tommy in his bed.

After a few minutes he was back, “hey love.” he said as he put on his headset. “Gosh!” you sighed, making Techno laugh. “Please give me an announcement next time, I think I just lost 10 years of my life.” you said, Techno only laughing harder. “I will, I will, sorry.” he smiled. The two of you talked all night, switching to your phones when it became too late. You fell asleep first, Techno chuckling when he heard your soft snores. “Goodnight, (Y/N).” he whispered, before falling asleep himself. 

[struggling-with-time]

What a life [Wilbur x reader]

Paring: c!Wilbur Soot x Gender neutral!reader

Summary: A night in the lives of the young adults before the world taints their life. Inspired by What a life by Scarlet Pleasure

Warnings: Fluff, bit of angst if you squint

Words: 1.8K

Masterlist: Wilbur's Masterlist - Full Masterlist

A/N: Please request if you have any ideas. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Request here. I do suggest listening to Scarlet Pleasure. They are one of my favourite bands. And thank you to the lovelies of @libbynotfound and @hungoverhellhound that was both sweet to beta read <3

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You keep your eyes closed as your bedroom door creaks open, letting light into your dark room. Your dads, BadBoyHalo and Skeppy, each whisper a goodnight before closing the door again. You listen intensely as you hear them repeat the motion father down your hall in your brother’s room.

And then you wait.

You keep quiet even as you can hear small stones getting thrown at your window. You know Wilbur is already outside, the rest of your brother’s friend group most likely already is too.

But you don’t move, you wait.

Until you don’t.

Sapnap comes into your room, closing the door behind him, and you throw off your comforter, already dressed for the occasion. He hands you your shoes, and you quickly put them on as he makes a fake you with pillows.

You hurry over to the window, throwing it open, narrowly dodging a stone getting thrown your way.

“Wilbur!” You whisper yell out the window. You can see him as clear as day, even in the dark, and he does look slightly apologetic. You start crawling out of the window, and onto the small ledge. Before you descend the rest of the way down the 2-story house.

You watch your twin brother scale the building after you, as dressed up as yourself.

The two of you hurry over the small fence that surrounds your front yard, separating your house from the town.

You greet the rest of the people, right now only consisting of Wilbur, Dream & George. You get a quick hug from George, a playful head ruffle from Dream, and a longer hug from Wilbur.

“Finally, you join us, what was taking you so long?” You hear George ask Sapnap.

“They took forever to head to bed tonight. You know they check on us Gogy.” Sapnap lightly punches his friend, earning a groan in response. But you’re unsure if it’s in response to the punch or the nickname.

“Alright, alright, I talked to Schlatt, and he got me some of this.” Wilbur rummages through his backpack, trying desperately not to take the bag off. Clearly not wanting to put down his guitar case.

“Let me help you there.” You push his should light, making him straighten up and you rummage through his back, quickly finding the flask he was looking for. You think you’ve seen this brand before at home, but knowing Schlatt it might as well be something completely different.

“Yo, Wilbur you actually got some.” Sapnap takes it from your hand and is the first to twist the cap off and take a swing.

Sapnap tries his best not to grimace at the burning in his throat, but the rest of you just laugh at him as he hands the bottle to you. And like true twins, you make the extra same face, but you can feel it going through your throat. Letting it warm your insides. You figure it’s not what the label says it is. Or maybe it’s spiked with a bit of potion. Because it doesn’t take more than 3 swings for you to start getting giddy.

The 5 of you quickly finish the bottle off, and Dream throws it in a bush in your neighbours garden.

“We should get going.” Sapnap is the first to remark.

“Well then, come on! We’re going to be even more late if we stay here all night.” Dream agrees, and that is all it takes for Wilbur to grab your hand. Dragging you off to the small inn where everyone else for the night will be. You can’t help but giggle at the action.

“Tonight is gonna be a good night!” You hear yourself yell into the empty streets as you run down them hand in hand with Wilbur, and the rest following behind too.

The inn is a place on the outskirt of the town. It has a bar, a good large serving room, and you think maybe 4 rooms upstairs to rent. Although you’ve never been above the first 3 steps of the staircase.

Wilbur throws open the door. Always one for the dramatics, quickly catching the eyes of your friends in there. You watch as Wilbur’s own twin brother, a pink-haired guy named Techno waves you down to your table.

Despite running off before Sapnap and his friends, they are already seated with a drink each when you get to the table. The 3 of them always have been known for making everything competitive. And it’s not a secret they expect nothing but victory.

You let go of Wilbur's hand, giving a quick hug to greet some of the people around the table. Niki, Techno, Fundy, Quackity, and Schlatt. You take a quick note of the missing ones. Eret and Karl.

You sit down beside Fundy, and it doesn’t take long before Wilbur is beside you. Waving down the redhead server.

“Sally!” You hear Wilbur greet you. Ordering a beer for each. You tune out from their conversation as she starts to inquire about his band. Instead, you turn to Fundy.

“So where is Eret tonight? I could have sworn they said they would be here.”

“I hear he got stuck on babysitting duty, all 3 of the troublemakers.”

“Then shouldn’t you be there too” You tease the fox hybrid, he is known to participate in the chaos, the self-proclaimed bench trio has a tendency to create.

You give a quick thanks to Sally, as she sets down your drink, and you give her a compliment on the inn to pass onto her parents, the owners.

It truly is a cosy place, filled with a good feeling from the cosy, yet alive atmosphere. It has a small scene in the corner, you can already see Wilbur's bandmates starting to set up their instruments.

You poke him in the side, to get his attention back from what looks like, a rather heated argument with Schlatt, about how horrible anteaters are. And you gain it before you point over to the scene, and Wilbur quickly scrambles out from the bench. Nearly knocking over his half-empty beer in the process, and you can’t help but laugh with him, as he finds the situation hilarious.

You go back to chatting with Fundy and Niki joins in. It’s nice and calm, yet you’re feeling so alive tonight. Maybe it’s the clear skies, but there is just something in the air.

You watch Wilburs performance intensely, waving off the jabs his brother Techno makes at you.

“And the two of you keep saying you’re just friends.” You think you hear him complain to the table. You ignore the responses in favour of trying to catch Wilburs eyes, and you do. And he smiles, and you smile. And you can’t but feel giddy and giggle at the moment.

The performance goes well, and far too soon they are all situated at your table again. And everyone gets a new drink on curtsy of the house for a good performance.

You’re catching up with Niki, when Wilbur leans into your ear, asking if you want to get out of the inn for the night.

You agree.

And the two of you take your leave, with a quick “Be back before sunrise” From your brother. And then the two of you are out of there. Missing the way, the table is now complaining about the lovesick couple that isn’t a couple.

You are the one to drag Wilbur through the streets now, all that can be heard is the laughter of two young people feeling alive and enjoying life.

You drag him back to his own house, knowing Phil is out. Or else Eret would have been with you tonight.

The two of you lock eyes for a moment, a smile and grin mirroring each other before you both look up.

Rooftop.

Wilbur’s house is a nice cottage on a hilltop, just outside of town, making it the perfect place to stargaze. And it doesn’t help that outside of Wilbur’s window is the roof of the porch.

So you bounce on the balls of your feet as Wilbur struggles with the keys to get the door open. Both of you being very much stealthy despite nobody being around. Or as stealthy as two half-drunk younglings can be in the middle of the night. You stumble through the house and up the stairs. He puts away his guitar case as you open his window, already situated on the roof with his comforter around your shoulders, by the time he joins you under the open sky.

“Do you ever think we are meant for something bigger?” You can’t help but ask, mesmerised by the stars. No matter how many times you look at them, they always seem to hold the secrets to the world just out of reach of your grasp.

“Yes.” He looks at you, taking in the awestruck look on your face, as you look up.

“How so?”

“I want to travel, see the world. Make a difference.” He slides closer to you, and you bask in his attention.

“Where to, mister traveller.” You tease him.

“I don’t know if Sapnap told you, but Dream has put an offer down on a large piece of land. I want to go there.”

You turn to look at him, finding him look back at you.

“You’re gonna leave?”

“Not tonight, but as soon as Dream sends a letter when he gets there.”

“They are leaving soon.” You can’t help but add. “Sapnap told me the other day. They are leaving in 2weeks from now, I always knew he would leave before me. But you too?” You lean your head on his shoulder, and he rests his on top of yours.

“You could always come with me? Tommy is. Or, Tommy is if dad allows it, but I’m sure he will.”

“Maybe later, maybe later.” You let the empty promise float into the slightly cool air of the night.

Moonlight bathes the two of you in a silver lining. A pining is felt all through town from the lovesick couple that isn’t a couple.

The night is no longer young, but the two of you are. You are young and alive, nearly untouched by the horrors of the world.

And it terrifies you, it terrifies the both of you even if neither says it. There is a whole world out there, another side, that neither of you have ever seen before.

But for now, it’s okay.

For now, everything is okay, for the world will still be there tomorrow, and for the rest of time too. While one of you might disappear soon.

But for now. That’s is okay.

For you are still young, and you are alive.

What a life.

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