#They were just so... Out of sync. I hope they find happiness because that wasn't it.

[phoenixcatch7]

Had a very strange encounter this morning. Knock on the door from a family of four, very Victorian boarding school crossed with 40s housewife, youngish boys looking like they'd rather be anywhere else but there but resigned. All overdressed for the heat.

The father immediately starts talking about society.

For some context, I had been up till 1am moving boxes in my parents attic, which had barely any floor reinforced enough to put weight on and nowhere high enough to properly even sit upright, not to mention all the exposed fiberglass. I hadn't eaten breakfast yet, in fact I hadn't eaten or drank in nearly fifteen hours. I had had a sort of plan for if I was ever in the sort of situation I was suddenly flung into now, but before breakfast is not a time I can use braincells.

So he starts on with some opening spiel I'm genuinely not registering, and out pops the inevitable question.

'Do you think our society now is good or bad? With everything going on, Palestine...'

Now this is a question I know the answer to, I think excitedly! My lone dreg of grey matter is very pleased to be able to contribute to the conversation.

I say, 'Good'. Just one word.

And it completely shuts him down. Him and his wife are taken aback. They don't have a conversation tree for this, that they can push against, commiserate with. They look expectant, they wait for me to elaborate, to say 'well there's some horrific stuff happening, but -' that they can restart the conversation with. Not a single thought passes through my mind.

He tries again, fiddling with his leaflet. 'Well, what do you think is going to happen in the future, with all these awful things going on around us, do you think the people in charge are going to agree -'

And I interrupt him, because that is an awfully long sentence to process when part of my liquified grey matter is finally starting to ring cult, I say 'human rights'.

They look at me in total silence. In the background the toaster pops with a rattle and immediately starts drying out. I am unblinking.

'You think human rights are getting better,' the man says, in the tone of someone who's never put those words in a sentence together before. I look to his wife for a cue, and when she doesn't give it, his kids. They're not looking at me, but they don't seem to really care, either.

'I do,' I say, uncertain but unwilling to give them an inch. My internal script, having finished its if statement, returns null and puts its hands up.

I want my toast. There is a long, long silence as we all seem to grasp that I've set the conversation tree on fire.

Finally, the man presses restart on the entire thing and picks up from where I should have agreed that the world was bad and miserable. He stutters. He glances away. He shifts and restarts his sentence, his paragraph. I am genuinely not processing a single word, and I don't think I blinked then either. I catch a mumbled 'jehovahs witnesses' which is great, because I couldn't decide between that and mormonism. My brain wasn't enough to tell me what it was but it was a similar word.

The dog sprints past. Everyone jumps out of their skin. In the second it takes to step out enough to scruff her, running unexpected animal apology script, the door slams behind me in a sudden wind, loudly enough to make the mother shriek. I have enough brainpower to envision the next ten minutes before I realise with relief the door remained unlocked (it rarely does). I return to Greeting Stranger Position. The dog is banished.

'I'm so sorry,' I say. My toast is definitely stale, and it was the last in the loaf. Not even a crust remains.

The man fumbles. Most of my attention is on the lady, at this point, expecting some polite commiseration, or just some sort of Situation Deescalation noise. I'd take a clearing of the throat at this point, because there's two adults at my door and only one has talked. Neither have checked on their kids once. She stares my doorbell in the ding button. The man continues like this is going anywhere. I can't parse it into words.

Finally, he hands me the leaflet, points out the phone number and a casual 'if you ever feel alone or if you want to call-'. It's not an area code I recognise, but I'm also fairly sure I wasn't processing the written word at this point either.

They make noises of starting to go, and my brain perks up again - script! - and enthusiastically hammers the 'farewell visitors (standard)' button. I spring to life like a freshly animated corpse, a spark in my eyes as I commiserate about the heat and wish them good things for the rest of the day.

Normally the people I talk to respond in kind automatically, but the woman only sort of dips her head when I talk about how nice the unexpected sun is and to be careful not to overheat (a very common farewell this far north in sunny weather lmao). The kids don't know how to react to being addressed (you take care!) and the man keeps unconsciously trying to make eye contact, talking a steady stream of noise in the full assumption that I'm talking solely to him, which is not part of my script - genuinely something I've never encountered before - and thus I don't adapt at all. I admit, I'm used to the mother being in charge in local family units, or at least equal with the man. They turn away - I close the door - the man spins around and finally seems to realise he received a quarter of the farewells and is expecting the closed conversation to shift back to him.

I'm shaking from hunger.

My toast is indeed stale.

I don't know. It surprises me, post meal, that people who gather into these super restricting 'we will give you salvation' outsiders excluded cultish groups are so shocked at the idea of genuine faith in the world. It's what they're hawking. They knock on the door of a stranger who thinks people are generally good, actually, no notes, and that scares them. But well, I suppose that's the point, isn't it? They can't believe that or they'd leave.

Though I suppose my unblinking stare didn't help. I wish I could have been in a state for a smoother interaction, but it is what it is. Nobody got hurt, but I hope the kids get out safe. The whole family was in deep.

[llxferim]

Hello!!! I love your blog and your Klaus stories. I had a little idea about him, Klaus x GN!Reader who is obsessed with his hips (because let's be honest, I'm totally infatuated with them *cough*). I imagine he would be a little tease about it when he'd notice how the Reader is feeling? Thank you in advance!

a/n: THANK YOU SO SO MUCHH ILY, IF U DONT LIKE THIS IM ALL DOWN TO REWRITE IT, LIKE GENUIENLY.

yall i tried my besttt, i didnt rlly know how to finish it so just don't judge alright I'm going to cry. besides that thank you so much for the support omgg so many ppl liked and reblogged my fics I'm so happy :)))

pairings: Klaus Hargreeves x Gn!reader

Summary: you are obsessed with Klaus's hips

Genre: fluff

Warnings: Alchohol, gn!reader, gender neutral reader, no y/n used. Klaus is a tease.

Word count: 500 something (i cant write long fics for my life yall)

You'd always heard it was the small things—the details about a person that drives you mad, that sneak up on you and settle deep in your bones until you can't shake them. You never believed it until... Klaus Hargreeves.

It wasn't his sly grin, nor his ability to light up your mood no matter what—you loved all that about him—but no, what got you were his hips.

you two were in your room, Klaus getting dressed and—you reading a book in your chair— if you’d even call it reading.

Klaus was pacing the room, shirt half-buttoned, his low-rise jeans peeking out as he rummaged through a pile of clothes—probably looking for a clothing piece he'd mindlessly tossed in his usual chaos, getting ready for Luther’s wedding.

You leaned back in your chair, pretending to be invested in the book on your lap. But your eyes betrayed you, trailing down to his hips—the way they moved perfectly in sync with his long legs, almost like a sensual dance that came naturally to him.

"What are you staring at, doll?" Klaus's voice pulled you back from your daze, and his smirk told you he already knew the answer. "Nothing," you mumbled, clearing your throat and returning to your book, hoping he wouldn't notice your fierce blush.

"Nothing, huh?" He sauntered over a cat-like grace to his steps.

Klaus leaned in, resting his hands on the arms of the chair you were sitting on. You could smell his cologne—a mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him.

"You know," he drawled, "it's rude to stare without offering a compliment."

Your eyes snapped up to his face, heat rising to your cheeks. "I wasn't—"

"Oh, but you were," Klaus interrupted, his grin widening. He pushed off the chair and spun dramatically, arms outstretched. "So, what's the verdict? Do these jeans make my ass look good?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. "You're impossible, Klaus."

"Impossibly charming, you mean," he winked, flopping onto your bed with a dramatic sigh. "Now, as punishment for your rudeness, I'm charging you with the task of helping me find those jeans. You know, the ones with the—"

"Sparkly skulls?" you finished for him, already moving to search through the chaos of his belongings. "I swear, Klaus, if you'd just organize your things..."

-----

Even in public, you'd find yourself staring. His hips were simply irresistible to you.

Everyone was drunk, even Five—a sight that was both amusing and unsettling. It was strange seeing him so nonchalant about the apocalypse.

the newlyweds were feeding each other.. strawberries. Across the room, Allison and Viktor were arguing about—something, their voices barely audible over the thumping music, and Diego had disappeared with Lila some time ago.

And then there was him. Klaus, the life of the party as always, was on the dance floor, his body moving in perfect rhythm to the beat. Your eyes couldn't help but linger on him, admiring how those jeans hugged his hips just right. Even during a world-ending disaster, Klaus had a way of commanding attention—and looking damn good while doing it.

As the night wore on, the party's energy seemed to fuel his every move. You watched him, and couldn't help but smile at how completely Klaus could captivate an entire room.

At one point, he spotted you from across the room. With a mischievous grin, he beckoned you over. and before you could react, he was at your side, pulling you into the crowd.

"Come on, doll," he said, his voice a playful purr. "You can't just stand there staring. Join me."

You laughed, letting him guide you onto the dance floor. For a moment, it was just the two of you, moving together in sync with the music. The world outside ceased to exist.

[adore-laur]

RENDEZVOUS

— a steamy flashback from the dadrry universe about harry as your fiancé 💍

——

After another shot of vodka went down the hatch, you still didn't qualify yourself as drunk. Tipsy was the more accurate feeling since every shot you had taken in the last ten minutes hadn't quite affected your bloodstream yet. The fifth one was being poured already. Or maybe the sixth. It didn't really matter since letting loose was what bachelorette parties were made for.

The event was being held in a small theater in downtown San Francisco, occupied by you and your friends, to celebrate the last few weeks before you officially became a married woman. A drag show was the extravaganza for the evening, and it was currently the intermission, so everyone was out of their seats drinking and catching up with each other.

You and Harry had needed a getaway amid the final phase of wedding planning. The both of you were staying at the Ritz-Carlton for the weekend, and it was nice to take a breather from the stress of the big day coming up. In the weeks leading up to the mini vacation, you had decided it would be perfect to have your bachelorette party in the scenic city. Most of your friends lived in surrounding areas, so you sent the invites out and hoped everything worked out. It clearly did because everyone was buzzed and having the time of their lives. 

Your throat hurt from loudly cheering on the drag queens who had just performed. The tiara on your head with a tiny veil attached was slipping off, and the bride-to-be sash across your body was getting wrinkled, but you couldn't care less. Happiness and love exuded from your friends who had come to carouse with you.

Harry had proposed a little over a year ago after he cooked a fancy New Year's Eve dinner and led you to the backyard at midnight to get down on one knee, popping the question with shaky hands and watery eyes. You were incredibly thankful it hadn't been a grand display in public. It had been just you and him at home under the string lights, with butterflies breaking loose in your stomach.

In planning the wedding, you had vowed to him that you wouldn't be a bridezilla. You'd allow him to have equal insight and let him completely take the reins regarding the food that will be served since it's his forte. Overall, the process hadn't been too draining. You worked well as a team, and he was always open to suggestions and last-minute changes of plans. The final touches would be put together once you came home from the trip. Then, it would finally be time to marry him.

"Did you leave Harry alone in the hotel room?" asked your friend, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah, but I'm sure he'll find something to do," you said. "He can never sit still for too long."

She carefully fixed your tiara. "When's his bachelor party?"

"Next weekend. He's having it at the restaurant he works at."

"Not at the strip club?" she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

You laughed. "He's mature enough to understand that I find it suspicious when guys go there for their bachelor party. Some call it their last night of freedom. How weird is that?"

You had nothing against strippers, but you thought it was reasonable that you'd rather have Harry spend his night somewhere else to celebrate his, you know, commitment to you.

"You're marrying such a gentleman. It makes me jealous," she said with a playful nudge. She wasn't wrong, so you just shrugged smugly and sipped your fruity cocktail.

Gasps and excited clapping suddenly stole your attention. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the stage, watching the red velvet curtains draw back once again. Shuffling to your table, you smoothed down the back of your dress and sat.

The lights dimmed as people who worked at the venue began rolling a black piano onto the stage. You wondered what it would be used for since the drag queens earlier had strictly danced and lip-synced to music booming from the speakers. Other instruments were also being brought out—guitars, drums, and even a saxophone.

Growing more confused by the second, you turned around and stared at your friends around the room to see if they knew what was happening. All you received were mischievous smiles.

Before you could ask questions, you were abruptly pulled out of your seat and led to the front of the stage as people situated themselves by their respective instruments. You leaned into your friend and asked, "What's going on? This doesn't look like a drag show is about to happen."

She smirked and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Let's find out."

You didn't reply because the band started playing jazzy music as the stage lights turned on, revealing quite a modern setup for what you knew was definitely not a drag performance. A spotlight shone, and it began to move toward the left wings, where a silhouette of someone was waiting.

"Please give a warm welcome to Harry Styles!" introduced the saxophonist.

You just about choked on your Mai Tai.

Your vision finally focused on Harry as he strutted out wearing yellow trousers and a button-up under a suit jacket. A tiny microphone was clipped to his collar, and you couldn't even begin to guess what he had planned tonight. He gave you no inclination that he'd be here. No subtle hints had been dropped in conversations with him, and no sneaky clues had been given by your friends. It was actually shocking, considering he was usually awful at keeping secrets.

Everyone cheered for him; whistles and encouraging hollers were thrown his way as he held his arms out and walked toward center stage. You were too taken aback to join in as you watched him cut the band off with a gesture before facing the room with his hands behind his back.

Was his hair parted down the middle?

"Thank you, thank you," Harry said with a bow, his deep voice echoing throughout the theater. "It is so great to be here hosting a bachelorette party for the first time."

Wow. He had jokes up his sleeve, apparently. Was he about to do a stand-up routine?

The applause and praise continued as you shook your head in disbelief, letting a huge smile take over your face at the unexpected surprise.

"This is new territory for me," he said. I'm very excited to step back from my chef duties and do some comedy tonight."

There was no way he was going to do a comedy bit. You couldn't believe he crashed your party with a fancy suit and a routine ready to go. He was talking to your friend group in the audience like he was giving a Saturday Night Live monologue. You were going to lose it if he started playing the piano.

"You see, my fiancée and I go way back. We met about three years ago at a bar." He finally looked at you. "I ordered a lemon drop martini, and she ordered a strawberry margarita."

A stagehand brought out a clear martini and set it on the piano, and another one came down the stairs and placed a pink-colored margarita on your table. Your face heated at the simple yet thoughtful act.

"We talked for hours until I drunkenly asked her on a date. You know what she told me?" A plethora of whats were screamed from the crowd. "She said, 'Ask me again when you're sober!'"

Everyone laughed, and you hid your face in your hands. That wasn't even a joke; you had genuinely said that to him. You were blown away that he remembered such a tiny detail.

"Ultimately, I'm a very serious partner," Harry continued as he began sauntering toward the piano, "and nothing says serious partner like learning how to play the piano to impress my fiancée."

Taking a sip of your margarita, you glanced behind you. Some of your friends were recording him with their phones, and you were glad this could be something you could watch repeatedly.

Harry sat on the bench and exhaled. "Ooh, that feels good."

You had to wave one of the fans the drag queens gave out to cool down. He looked unfairly handsome, he was playing the goddamn piano, and he kept giving you secret looks that made you sweat.

"Now... I don't know if you've heard, but I'm not a boyfriend anymore." He stared straight at you. "I'm a fiancé now." Whistles from your friends caused him to proudly smile. "I'm also going to be dad," he casually blurted. "We're going to have a baby."

The entire room gasped, and you gaped at him with wide eyes. "We're not," Harry added after a short pause. "Wouldn't it be crazy if we were, though?" Your friends were now shaking you and battering you with questions. Harry smiled before his face dropped comically. "We're not."

He teasingly raised eyebrows and smirked at you as if to signify that you were actually pregnant, although you were drinking alcohol. Hopefully, everyone knew that you'd never be that stupid. 

The girls were gawking at you, but Harry rolled his lips in and shook his head to remove the confusion. He continued playing the piano, and your cheeks hurt from laughing so much. He was doing such a great job, and you were genuinely trying to figure out how he had pulled all of this off.

"I love my fiancée; she's my best friend," he said smoothly. "She's hilarious, honest, caring, fuckin' beautiful"—he trailed off and furrowed his eyebrows—"and, uh... good in bed." You rolled your eyes as he puckered his lips at you, more cheers filling the room.

"Yeah, that's right." He blew out a relieved breath. "I'm so grateful she doesn't live with her mother anymore."

"Oh my God, Harry!" you yelled with a surprised laugh.

It was a more private joke that no one understood fully, but it was funny nonetheless. You had used to live with your mother when you started dating Harry, and you always had to be quiet when he'd come over because, in his early twenties, testosterone needed to be having sex with you at the most inconvenient of times.

He winked at you before resuming. "However, for me, it's not about how my fiancée is in bed, even though I'd consider myself very lucky in that department. It's about her soul and her heart. And in all seriousness," he added as the laughter died, "I truly believe her soul is my love language."

Coos and squeals echoed at his statement, and you shyly smiled. You were the one who had taught him about all the different love languages; he had told you once that he thought your entire soul was what his was.

"Maybe some of you aren't convinced I'm a serious partner. You may be asking yourself: Did he really take secret piano lessons to do this? Well, if in doubt, just ask the maid of honor."

Your head whipped toward your maid of honor, sitting at a table behind you. She waved with a proud smile, and you gasped when you realized he must've done piano lessons with her since you knew she had played the instrument for several years.

Harry hummed loudly while closing his eyes, bringing your attention back to him. "I love being here in San Francisco. So much history."

The band behind him cheered as Harry dramatically sipped his martini. You'd never seen him so in his element with something besides his job. The confidence in the delivery of his jokes, the comedic timing, the professional stage setup—it was something you'd never forget.

"I've learned so much this week. Here's a few secrets about the hotel we're staying at," he said gaily. "Did you know they gave us the haunted room because of how pale I am?" He shook his head with a boyish smile. "That is funny."

You chuckled at the awful joke because he was actually paler than usual. It was the end of January, and he hadn't gone outside much since it'd been cold and gloomy by the coast where both of you lived.

"The bed in there is so creaky that it sounded like that one night in Mexico!" 

Shocked gasps and bursts of laughter rippled throughout your friends in the audience. It was a harmless joke about how you had all gone on a couples trip a while ago, and your friends had heard you and Harry getting down with it in the hotel room. It had been terribly embarrassing.

Harry laughed. "Everybody thinks we're a couple that has a lot of sex. We don't; that's why she sleeps in a different bed than me at home."

Okay, now that wasn't true.

"Except tonight!" he shouted cheekily while pointing at you. "I mean, I think I'm just about ready to take her home with how she looks right now."

The girls at your table nudged you, and you began to get flustered. He was giving you that look again.

Harry cleared his throat and stopped playing the piano. "All jokes aside, thank you so much to everyone for celebrating with her tonight. You've all been wonderful friends over the years, and I can't wait to see you all at the wedding. It'll be terrifying, but I'm so ready. Also, thank you for bearing with my terrible jokes. Have a good rest of the night!"

You applauded along with your friends, some of them throwing leftover confetti from the drag performance earlier toward him. He brought his hands together and bowed politely as the band played a closing song.

Harry's cheeks were as pink as your strawberry margarita when he walked down the stairs with one hand behind his back and the other adjusting his suit jacket. He locked eyes with you and pursed his lips, trying to hold back a smile. Everyone stood from their seats to greet him, and the band came down holding bouquets of white iris flowers, passing them out to each of your friends.

You met Harry halfway and instantly wrapped your arms around his waist as he tilted your head up for a messy kiss on the lips. He coaxed and smacked kiss after kiss out of you until your friends started making fake gagging noises from behind. He eventually pulled away and removed his hand behind his back to hold out a bountiful bouquet of red roses that matched the color of your dress.

"For my lovely fiancée." He gave you the bouquet and then turned your head so his mouth was by your ear. "I've got a taxi picking you up after this is done."

You nodded and ran your fingers across his stomach. "Sounds perfect. That was so incredible, Harry. And the piano? I'm impressed."

"It wasn't too much?" he asked, shyly rubbing a knuckle under his eyebrow. "I didn't know if you'd appreciate me crashing your girls night."

"Are you kidding? That was the best thing I've ever seen. I'm so proud of you."

Harry blushed, and you lovingly pinched his cheek. "Thanks. I was nervous because your friends always make fun of my jokes. I thought they wouldn't laugh."

"We were cracking up. You did so good," you complimented. "How did you keep it a secret from me? I had no idea."

"I'll never tell," he said with a cute shrug.

You lightly slapped his chest. "I'll get it out of you one day. Are you staying for the rest of the show?"

"It's your night, baby. Go enjoy it with your friends," he said. "I'll be waiting in the hotel room. You should stop by for a little rendezvous."

Your tipsy mind missed his attempt at a joke entirely. "We're staying in the same room, though."

"Bloody hell," he said with a laugh. "How much alcohol have you had?"

"Excuse me, not even a lot. Mind your business. I'm having a great time."

"I'm glad you're having fun. That makes me happy." Harry adjusted your tiara and then softly pecked the corner of your mouth three times. "I'll see you back in the room, okay?"

"For our rendezvous?"

"Our top secret rendezvous," he murmured against your temple. "Don't go around telling anyone, all right?"

"Sure thing," you replied while squeezing his sides. "You can go now."

An offended scoff escaped him, and he cradled the back of your head and leaned in. "Watch your mouth. I expect you to behave when you get back."

You puckered your lips and hummed contemplatively. "But it's my special day; you said so yourself. I can say whatever I—"

Harry cut you off by pressing his lips to your bottom one, biting it with his teeth before pulling back. "I love you so much, but that attitude isn't going to fly with me tonight."

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, dad."

"I'm leaving before this gets weird," he said with a smile. "Be safe, have fun, and call me if you need anything."

"Now you literally sound like a dad."

"Shush," he said. "I love you. I'll see you soon."

You pecked his lips one last time, tasting the sour lemon residue from his martini. "Love you."

"Have fun, ladies," he called out to your friends. "Take care of her, yeah?"

They all nodded, and Harry hugged you before heading to the stage to shake hands with the band. Soon after he was gone, the lights in the theater dimmed again, and the curtains opened for the final portion of the show. You headed back to your seat, feeling exceptionally giddy.

The rest of the party went by in a flash. Wigs, pop songs, and glitter invaded your brain, and now you were ready to return to the hotel. The tone he'd used earlier had made a shiver run down your spine. Low, insinuative, and almost impatient.

It was a tone that suggested you were in for a treat when you got back.

——

The key card swiftly slid into the slot. Two chirp-like beeps sounded, indicating that it was unlocked. Opening the heavy door, you stumbled inside the hotel room in the black heels you had already started to unclasp in the back of the taxi. There was confetti stuck to the bottom of them, and it nearly made you slip on the hardwood floors. That, and there was also a trail of rose petals and tea light candles weaving throughout the presidential suite that you didn't remember seeing when you had left earlier. 

You giggled to yourself as you followed the trail to the bedroom. Oh, Harry. You had almost forgotten he was here.

When you walked through the doorway, the king-size bed came into view. So did your fiancé. Harry was sitting pretty on the silk sheets with a flute of champagne in his left hand as he looked out the window at the San Francisco skyline. He was wearing the same outfit from his surprise act not too long ago, but his hair had become messier, and his eyes were glassy from the bubbly liquid you noticed was already half gone from the bottle on the nightstand.

You crawled toward him on the bed, setting your bouquet down. "Hi. I'm back."

His gaze was focused on you. He granted no response as his lips took a sip of the pale and fizzy drink he held so delicately, the gold engagement band on his ring finger gleaming from the moonlight illuminating the room. A low groan escaped his mouth when you straddled his thighs and applied pressure to his already hard cock. He wasn't saying anything, but you knew exactly what would get him to speak.

"What's got you so hard, baby?" you asked softly, tutting. "Were you thinking about me?"

His lips twitched as he finished the champagne and set it on the ground beside the bed. "Like you don't fuckin' know. Look at yourself, darling. It's honestly a shock that I wasn't on my knees for you at the theater."

Your hands rubbed up and down his thighs. "I had a feeling you'd like this little number."

It had been a struggle to get through the door to leave since his touch had been all over you the second you put on the red satin slip dress.

"What about me? Do you like my outfit?"

Such a narcissist, you thought to yourself. You ground against him, and he let out a breathy moan. "I do. Apparently, no boxers are part of the get-up."

Harry closed his eyes and smirked. "I might have no boxers on, but there's something else you might find. I went and did some quick shopping while you were gone."

Your slowed thoughts tried to catch up to what he could have been hinting at. "Shopping, huh? What did you buy?"

His large hands kneaded your ass. "Take a look."

He leaned forward and guided your hand to the button of his trousers. You quickly flicked it undone as he removed his suit jacket and began undoing the button-up. His body lifted on the bed so you could slide the garment off easier, and he hissed when it brushed past his cock.

Slowly but surely, his legs underneath were revealed, and your face heated to a thousand degrees. Fishnet tights. His leg hair and tiger tattoo peeked out from under the crosshatch material stretched tight against his skin. The redness of his cock looked painful from its restraint under them.

"I might've bought a little something too," you admitted as you scratched his skin through the thin fabric.

"Yeah?" He jerked his hips when your fingers grazed the head of his cock. "Show me, then. Go on."

You sat on your knees and lifted your dress to reveal the baby pink garter around your upper thigh. "It's your favorite color."

Harry licked his lips as his fingers delicately rubbed the lace. "I see that, sweetheart. Anyone particular on your mind when you bought it?"

"Was there anyone on your mind"—you snapped the waistband of his fishnets—"when you bought these?"

He bit his lip. "You're the only one I think of. The only one I would wear these for. I would crawl on my knees to you wearing them if that's what you wanted."

"Is that so? Quite the visual."

"I'll do it if you want me to." He paused, a smile slowly creeping across his face. "We can practice the garter toss for our wedding."

You made a noise of protest. "We are absolutely not doing that in front of our families. It'll be so humiliating."

"Don't have to, because we can do it right now," he suggested. A nip was given to your neck before he climbed off the bed and grabbed a chair.

Your eyebrows arched. "What are you doing?"

"We're doing this the traditional way," he explained with a nonchalant shrug. "I have to go under your dress and take it off."

"Will you be nice, or will you tease me?"

"Which do you prefer?"

You swung your legs over the bed and sat in the chair. "I prefer the way that gets you inside me as soon as possible."

"Well, I'll let you know once I'm between your thighs," he said, kneeling on the carpeted floor and waving his hands for you to spread open for him.

"No tickling, or I'm staying in another room," you warned as you slid off your heels and parted your legs.

Harry started crawling toward you with his tousled hair and day-old stubble, only wearing his fishnets and unbuttoned dress shirt. He never broke eye contact with you until he reached where you were sitting.

Your satin dress was then lifted over his head. You could instantly feel his hot breath against your legs, his lips grazing every patch of skin he could find. He left an open-mouthed kiss over your underwear that was already damp, and you moaned when his facial hair rubbed against your inner thigh.

You suddenly felt his teeth grab the garter as he pulled it down to your ankle. He took it off the rest of the way with his hand, bringing it over your shoe and moving out from under your dress. He stuck it between his teeth again and removed his button-up. Green eyes stared at you, and you clenched your legs under his intense stare. His tattooed torso was on full display. He was so, so beautiful.

Harry grabbed the garter and slid it on his bicep before saying, "Stand up."

You got up and switched spots with him, standing in front of him while he sat in the chair. He crossed his legs, his thighs thickening even more under the fishnets. You walked over and parted them so you could straddle him. The chair was thankfully wide enough to fit both of your knees on either side of him. You could almost feel his cock throb as you started desperately grinding against him to offer relief.

"Baby, slow down. Shit, slow down," he said quickly, his hands gripping your waist. "I need to last. You'll make me come right now if you keep doing that."

Slowing down, you took your time with each grind on his thigh. The pressure of the muscle felt like heaven as your core clenched around nothing. "Is that better?" you asked, raising your dress to see how his body reacted underneath you.

"Yes," he choked out, his neck straining. "I need to be inside you so bad."

"How bad?"

"So bad. I'm fuckin' throbbing for you. Please get on the bed."

You squeezed one of his balls through the fishnets, his hips bucking. "Where does it ache? Tell me how to make it better."

"Get on the bed," he gritted. "I'm not going to ask again."

There was the dominance you wanted. You nipped his earlobe and crawled off his legs. He immediately stood, hissing as he palmed himself through his tights. You helped him take them off.

"Top or bottom?" he asked while closing the curtains. "My fiancée's choice."

"Neither. I want it from behind."

"Say less." He turned around, gripping his cock and squeezing it once. "On the bed. Now."

You quickly slipped your dress and underwear off and knelt on the bed, facing the headboard. Harry got in position behind you, his cock resting on your lower back. He moved your hair to one side and whispered, "On all fours."

You placed your forearms on the bed and arched your back so he had a good angle. "Open your mouth," he commanded. You tilted your head up and to the side as he leaned in to spit in your awaiting mouth. His saliva pooled on your tongue, and you swallowed it down willingly. "Good girl."

Harry then reached his arm out to hold onto the headboard. The engagement ring on his finger caught your eye, as did his veiny hand that tightly gripped the burgundy wood.

The first thrust was divine. Searing pressure filled your walls, and Harry whimpered into your neck at your instant clench around his cock. He continued deeply thrusting into you as he took the garter off his arm and put it around your wrists so that they were restrained in front of you. Your hips burned. Harry's other hand squeezed your breast.

"Go faster," you said as his hand trailed down to your stomach, his long middle finger lightly grazing your clit.

He pounded harder, his skin slapping as the headboard creaked from the force. He was hitting all the deep spots, his pelvis meeting your ass each time. Your hands gripped the sheets when he glided his fingers up and down your dripping core. His head was nestled in your neck, muffled groans and pants leaving him when you pushed up your hips with each new thrust.

He removed his fingers that were coated with your arousal and spread his palm on your lower stomach. "Can you feel me there?"

You nodded fervently, crying out when a deep trust had you literally feeling him in your stomach. "Holy shit, Harry. I feel you. Please don't stop."

He pressed down and rubbed your stomach, the knot from your orgasm growing and bubbling up quickly. In one swift movement, he brought you to a sitting position as his cock continued stretching your wet walls. His thighs were touching yours, and you could feel them tense and tremble as you got closer, clenching hard around him.

"I'm going to get your name tattooed on my thigh right here," he said, taking the garter off your wrists and moving one of your hands to touch his right thigh. 

You were too submerged in ecstasy to reply to his random confession. A couple more thrusts had you blindly reaching back to grab his hand so you could come. He held it tightly as you unraveled, arching against him from the pleasure leaving you.

"That's my girl," he said in your ear. "My love, my love, my love. So gorgeous, coming for me like this."

Your ears were ringing, and Harry eventually spilled inside you while you still clenched from your remaining orgasm. You felt his warm release shoot inside you, his hand still holding yours and his body falling on top of you as he groaned hotly against your cheek. Heavy breathing was coming from both of you. Harry finished coming but kept his cock inside you, with throbs and twitches happening every so often.

"If we weren't engaged already," he started, "I'd propose to you right now because that was the best I've ever felt. Wow. My body feels all tingly."

You groaned, his dead weight on top of you making it hard to breathe. "Get off me. You're sweaty."

Harry rolled over and stared at the ceiling with his hands clasped on his stomach. The dim light illuminating the room and the perspiration glistening on his skin accentuated the carved outline of his abs, and you couldn't help but trace them with your fingertips.

"Shower?" he asked.

"Please."

He got up and carried you toward the bathroom. Everything in there was white marble, and the brightness hurt your eyes. The shower was small but comfortable enough to fit both of you. You already took one in the morning, but it would feel nice after a long, eventful night. It would also help you sober up as much as possible so you don't suffer through a terrible hangover tomorrow.

After laying down a towel and setting you atop the sink, Harry turned on the shower. He took off both of your engagement rings and then stood in front of the mirror. He inspected his stubble while he waited for the water to heat up.

"Should I shave?"

"Why?" you asked with a sharp tone that had him immediately raising his hands in surrender.

"All right," he mumbled with a teasing smile. "Blimey, woman. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"What are you even saying?" you asked languidly. "I hate it when you speak old-timey British to me."

"Are you cheesed off at me now?"

"You're literally speaking gibberish." You hopped off the counter. "I'm getting in the shower. Goodbye."

Harry followed you and dove under the hot water, trapping you in a hug from behind. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" The soft skin of his stomach against your back had you melting into him.

"I don't want you to divorce me before we get married," he explained, kissing your jaw. "I'm just playing it safe."

"Harry, you're the only person who can annoy me and make me endeared at the same time."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes," you replied, picking up the shampoo bottle you brought and handing it to him. "It makes me want to marry you right now."

He spurted a dollop of shampoo into his palm and began massaging it into your scalp with gentle and soothing motions. "I can't wait to marry you, either. Gonna treat you like a gentleman."

You lulled your head back, resting it on his collarbone. "You already do."

"I'll do it even more when I'm your husband, though. Make dinner for you every night and take you out on the town." He gravitated one hand toward your stomach. "Give you so many babies."

"Not so fast," you interjected with a dreamlike smile. "No babies anytime soon."

Harry filled the shower cup with water and poured it over your sudsy hair. "I hear you. Just know that I'm ready whenever you are."

"Let's get married first. I want you all to myself for a while."

"You always have me. That'll never change."

You turned him around so you could wash his hair next, opting for the same shampoo since he liked to steal it for himself anyway. After a prolonged yet comfortable silence, you asked, "Were you serious about tattooing my name on your thigh?"

"I'm dead serious," he replied. "I might even do it at my bachelor party. I work with a guy who's coming, and he does tattoos in his free time."

"But why on your thigh? It seems like a risqué place for it."

Harry turned his head and gave you a blank stare. "Would you rather me get it in a corny place like over my heart?"

You laughed, lathering shampoo in his curly hair. "No, not really. I guess you're right. It's kind of a secret spot for only us to know."

"Not unless I wear shorts all the time."

"Yeah, but thankfully, you wear pants every day at work. I don't want your coworkers to see that."

"Why not? I can't show you off anymore?" he teased, reaching back to pinch your side. "Wow, you propose to a woman, and suddenly she wants to be anonymous."

"Shut up," you muttered through a smile. "I honestly don't care. Just please don't get it inked in an ugly font."

Harry moved under the shower head, closing his eyes and slicking his hair back. "Well, it's a good thing I was going to ask if you'd write it out for me."

"Seriously?"

"No," he said in a deadpan manner, spitting out some water that had gotten in his mouth. "I'm thinking Comic Sans."

Poking the soft skin under his belly button, you said, "You think you're so funny now because you did a five-minute comedy routine."

He didn't provide a retort, but you saw him grin as he washed the rest of the shampoo from his hair. His nose was scrunched while he scratched his scalp and cleaned the foamy residue off his face.

After a peaceful moment of nothing but the sound of the shower water beating down, Harry opened his arms and brought you in for a hug. "I love you. You know that?"

You kissed his collarbone. "Where did that come from?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and cradled your head with his hands. "It hit me that we're getting married in a month."

It had been hitting you as well. You'd been waiting so patiently for the special day to arrive. "I love you," you said quietly. Thank you for tonight and every night. You make life worth living."

"Are you trying to make me cry?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

It fell silent as you stared longingly at each other with growing smiles. Harry slowly started getting closer to your face, his dimples carving deeper until his eyes crossed from how near he was. His forehead dropped against yours, and you rolled your lips in when he attempted to steal a kiss from you.

"How about another rendezvous, but this time we get in bed and fall asleep?" you suggested, reaching around him and shutting the shower off. Sporadic drips and exiting warmth greeted you.

He pouted. "Only if you kiss me."

"We've done enough of that today."

"You're really not going to kiss your fiancé after I just told you I'd give you babies? That's dire."

You laughed and admired a water droplet cascading from his pointed nose. "If you blow dry my hair for me, I'll reconsider."

Flinging the shower curtain open, Harry yanked a fluffy towel from the hook on the wall, then gently wrapped it around your body before grabbing one for himself and tying it low on his hips. The blow dryer next to the mirror didn't have a long cord, so you sat on the counter for easier access and squeezed any remaining wetness from your hair into the sink. Meanwhile, Harry covered the top of his head with a towel. He looked like the Virgin Mary.

You gave him a comb, and he took the blow dryer with his other hand, turning it on and gesturing at you to ensure it wasn't too hot on your skin. For the next ten minutes, the sound of the loud dryer filled the space. It would have been a stressful sound in any other situation—trying to dry soaking wet hair from the pool before dinner reservations or untangling knots from yesterday's sleep. This time, it was relaxing. Domestic. A moment in time.

The soothing scratches Harry gave to your head as he combed through every citrus-scented strand could have put you to sleep. The hotel room's air conditioner was cold and crisp, but occasionally, he'd lower the dryer so it blew warm air on your arms.

Before you knew it, the dryer clicked off, and peaceful quietness surrounded you. Harry's hair dried much quicker than yours, so he took off the towel on his head and tied some of his damp curls up in a ponytail for the night.

His hands planted themselves on either side of your legs. "Kiss time," he whispered, his arms taut.

You slid off the counter, finding yourself trapped by his body—not that you minded. Grabbing his left hand, you raised it to your lips to kiss his ring finger, then put his gold engagement band back on.

"My mouth is up here."

You grinned. "And? What about it?" Harry annoyingly pushed his forehead into your cheek, grumbling something incoherently. You pushed it away and asked, "What did you say?"

"I said I think I'll die if you don't kiss me," he repeated dramatically.

"What kind of kiss do you want?"

He once told you that he had favorites for different situations: a nip, tug, peck, tongue, or the type where you both smile so big that the kisses become messy and mixed with giggles. The latter was your personal favorite.

He hummed, his nose wrinkling as he pondered. "The one where you do all the work."

You laughed softly. It wasn't necessarily a joke he was making; he genuinely enjoyed it when your lips moved against his. Sometimes, he just wanted to be kissed silly. It was never awkward, nor did it feel like a chore. He was the most kissable person to roam the earth, so resisting was hard.

"Okay," you said, draping your arms over his shoulders. "Only for a little bit, though. I'm exhausted."

Harry nodded and lifted you, setting you on the counter again. Your legs circled around his hips. "I'll return the favor tomorrow," he said.

The towel on his waist was hanging on for dear life. His eyelids were lazily drooping from tiredness, and his skin was flushed from the steam. How could someone look so pretty in hotel bathroom lighting?

Your hand on his cheek gently guided him to your mouth. His lips were damp and plush from the shower, parting naturally with each of your doting kisses. With his nose nudged against yours, pleased hums came from his throat as you alternated between his top and bottom lips. Kissing him never gets old. It could be soft or rough, long or short, brought about by love or annoyance. It was a cure all the same.

After a slow and innocent onslaught of kisses, you pulled away before you ended up making out with him until morning. Bruised, aching lips could wait.

Harry whined in protest. "That was only, like, five seconds."

"Guess what?" You trailed your fingertips along his neck. "You have the rest of your life to kiss me."

He yawned while shaking his head. "That's not enough time. Give me forever."

"I'll try," you said fondly, sliding your engagement ring back on.

You would until children of your own were born, which required you to share that love. Until your children's children withdrew even more of it. Yet, despite that, Harry would always be the first person you had given your heart to completely. He had never taken advantage of it. He had never made you doubt his love for you. It was the kind of love that was immortal. It would never die out and would remain the greatest feeling you'd ever felt in this life and the next.

If evermore was attainable, you liked to believe it was made possible by loving him.

——

[nights-flying-fox]

It's Not Pain (It's Applause)

So!! I learned today is one of my fav albums' anniversary, and of course i had to write something quickly based on a song in the album!! I present you this Dimension Hopper Leo AU fic, which is just Hop looking through his adventures and thinking at late night hours. I didn't check it for any mistakes, so i hope everything is correct haha!! The song that the fic is heavily inspired is "Battle Cries" by The Amazing Devil :]

(Also Null belongs to @noxvee6 and Twin-Sync AU belongs to @little-banjo-frog ^^ )

Tagging @tmntaucompetition because it is mentioned here too, even if not very detailed hehe

《 words and ao3 link will be added later, I don't think there are anything that needs warning, but if there is please tell me so I can add!!》

☆ ☆ ☆

 He had never thought he would see an older version himself from an outside view, let alone himself. But fate had surprised him. Perhaps it wasn't fate at all, but his choices.

 Turning the pages of the notebook he wrote his discoveries in, he sighed. He looked at the pictures of Neon. He was one of the future versions of himself that he had met. He had ended up being a great friend to him, teaching him some basics. He smiled at the picture of him being busy as a leader. Neon had given him hope, maybe one day he could be like him. He was afraid of the possibility and the responsibility, but those were just a few details next to many good possibilities. 

 He still regretted not asking him some things, but who knows, maybe one day he would. And maybe one day he could annoy the heck out of him, tell him he met a Leo with hair, pointing out his lies. (He was aware he could never know about that possibility, but it was worth teasing the old man.)

He also was one of the people who had proven he wasn't alone. When alone, at night he thought about how without his family he wouldn't go far, he would remember him just like others. He would answer the question of who would save him if he fell (but could they save him when he fell in the deepest part of it all, when he would accept he wouldn't be able to go back home?).

 Leo shook his head. He didn't want to think of any possibilities about the future. He had found a moment of relaxation, a calm hour. Who would've known it would be so hard to rest while visiting almost every timeline that exists? Somehow, trouble never stopped finding them. Make it a villain, a plot twist, or a war. There always was something to do, even if he didn't belong. Even if he had his own war to win, a home to reach.

 He turned the page, humming at the image of the four turtles who had recently discovered they were a family. Honestly, they  must've been idiots to not notice they were related. Or maybe it felt like that to him because these faces belonged to his family as well. Whatever, he was happy to have met them and to know fate had reunited them. They had a lot to catch up to, just as Leo would when he would reunite with his family. 

 Turning pages he came across the picture of younger Big Mama and Lou Jitsu. He cringed, remembering the way he ended up in the past. They sure had an interesting love story, but it definitely was not Leo's cup of tea. 

 He turned the page quickly. After a short while he ended up seeing the grumpiest Leo in the universe. Null's big frown was visible in the picture. His smile returned, big and genuine. Who would know a version of you who wanted you dead would end up being as close to you as your real family? Leo hoped to see him soon, tease him by calling him his big brother. He was sure Null didn't mind, but the guy would do the favor of rolling his eyes and going along with it. He was proud to know him, seeing how he grew to be a better person. He hoped he was proud to know Leo as well.

 And then there were the pages dedicated to the competition he had found himself in. Various alternative versions of his family were all over the pages. He wasn't even sure if he knew all of them. He still grinned, it was fun. The other Leo and Donnie– they were team Twin-Sync–  had become great friends of his, and multiple pictures of them together decorated a single page. He had also gained a new fear towards mushrooms, and had found a new fun game to play. Who would know Muppets could be so bloodthirsty? Game nights were wild…

 He closed it and sighed, so many memories. So many dimensions and timelines. He was happy for all of them. Everything he had learned, everything that helped him become someone better. Everyone he had met and knew and helped. Every time he hopped somewhere new, it felt like restarting a new work of art– at least a Mikey had used that metaphor once he explained to him his adventures. And so many times he was told to hop away once he could, but so many times Leo refused. He couldn't stand to see his family in danger (again). And no matter the pain, it was worth it. Everything was worth for any version of his family. With them he felt like he could summon the Gods and the stars. Heck, he even felt like they were Gods. (He pushed back the memory of an older self of his saying that they were just kids.)

 And there were times he had trouble with those versions. Some that didn't trust him, and some that he had to not trust. There were bitter moments, but there were good ones too. (He swallowed down the pain of the words he had heard from some. The way some wield them as if he was an enemy.) They tried to get rid of him, sometimes. They must've forgotten Leo was stubborn. They could say goodbye, but he won't.

 Leo took a deep breath. It was crazy how he had ended up here. Everywhere. Whatever. It was as if he was walking in the darkness searching for light, but the darkness grew. (And he was afraid he was sinking so deep it was too late.) But he wouldn't give up (even if everything felt like going against him). He wouldn't turn his nights into them, especially when he was about to hop again. 

 Maybe one day he would do everything. Enjoy the calm, or show his skills in a fight. Maybe he would make a season finale, find the right portal. The smiles of others that he reflected would be truly his family's. (And no longer his mask would hide the tears.) Instead of staying, he'd keep hopping as much as he would keep hoping. (He would hide his fears with every new beginning.)

 And he would take a sigh. (And the battle cries in his mind would be buried deep.)

 And every time, it will be worth it for them. It can't hurt him if he'd have people he loved with him.

 (He wouldn't scream. Maybe he was at the end of all the things. It wasn't the time to ask himself how he was.) As long as he believed, he was okay. He was fine.

 Maybe tomorrow was the day. And finally, maybe everything would be over.

[soursvgar]

Hi there! Was reading through your posts and im absolutely enchanted by the way you write the brothers :)

If its okay to put in a request, Could you write for an artistic MC asking to draw the brothers? Or if all of them is too much, just luci, satan and mayybe solomon?

Artistic MC asking to draw them ♡

A/N: first of all thank you so much!! ;v; I ended up only writing the three you asked so I hope that's okay! I wasn't sure where you wanted me to take it so I tried a couple different directions, I really hope you'd enjoy it! ♡

Lucifer, Satan, Solomon x gender neutral reader ; slightly suggestive but mostly fluff

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Lucifer ━ ෆ

Lucifer would most likely refuse to admit that it makes him not only flattered, but also secretly excited when you ask to draw him. Being your muse has a unique ring to it, and he gets giddy simply thinking about you receiving inspiration from him. He prides himself in his elegance, and as modest as he may present himself, you recognizing his beauty and charm serves as a mighty compliment to him, as well as a stroke to his ego.

Chances of rejection were slim in the first place, as Lucifer's guilty pleasure had always been to make you happy, in any way possible, but not at all costs; even he may sometimes refuse you, mostly due to his busy schedule and prior commitments to Diavolo. Therefore, you choose a quiet evening when he had some seemingly rare spare time to suggest the two of you use it for a bonding activity. You hesitate when he asks what's on your mind, but your worries promptly fade when you drop the question, noticing his amused expression. You can immediately tell he likes the idea, and you could just as much conclude of all the different directions his brain is taking it to.

"Use me as your model? Is that what your heart desires?" Lucifer smirks, holding a glass of demonus snug within his fingers. Swirling it, he watches as the liquid inside create stain marks along the rim before his lips inch closer to take a sip. "Very well. In that case, I shall do so." He sets down the glass, now focusing on you as he sprinkles in his own suggestion. "Should I stay clothed for this, though?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Satan ━ ෆ

Satan himself is a work of art. His perfectly sculpted face and chiseled body pale in comparison to his compelling nature━ it was things like the way his lips moved in perfect sync when he read to you out of a book, and the depth his sentences carried when he made a promise to you, fingers ghosting over yours ever so slightly━ that captured your heart. In the eyes of an artist, the word breath-taking does not do justice to describe his appeal.

It's early morning when you uncharacteristically wake up before Satan does. The dark silhouettes breaching through the window adjacent to the bed in his room fall perfectly on his sleeping features, creating a contour to his already impeccable face. You catch yourself staring, it's not often you get to witness Satan deep in slumber, seeming remarkably relaxed. You barely manage to avert his blonde locks away from his face when his eyes flutter open; lost in his gaze, the words rather slip out of your mouth.

"You want to draw me?" Satan cocks an eyebrow before his expression softens, a grin lifts the corners of his lips. "I've read about it in a novel once, but I didn't realize you find me so enticing to satisfy your artistic ventures." He props himself on his elbow, closing the distance between the two of you as he hushes a reply. "I'll do that, only because I have the most beautiful masterpiece to appreciate while I pose."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Solomon ━ ෆ

With Solomon, things just seem to flow like water, effortlessly. Perhaps it was your initial core that connected the both of you, being the two sole humans in the exchange program for a very long time. Or maybe it was the time spent as his apprentice that brought you closer, awarding you with some quality time and a chance to be more familiar with each other. You couldn't pinpoint the exact reason, but something about him just made you feel relaxed, cared for, and appreciated.

Chuckling, he was teasing different poses as you sat by the aisle, physically unable to contain your smile. When you asked to draw him, you hadn't a doubt that he will agree, but you couldn't fathom how enjoyable it would be for him. For the past hour, he eagerly suggested ideas - from the color palette, through different themes, and up to offering some magical tools to add life to the drawing, quite literally.

"You know, I can't really get any work done like this." Snickering, you sit him down in the location of your choice before sneaking a peck to the tip of his nose. "Let me do what I'm good at. You trust me, right?" Just before you turn on your heels and back to your aisle, you feel a tug on your arms.

"There is no one I trust more than you." And with that, Solomon pulls you to his level, capturing your lips in an amorous kiss.

[writinginthesecrettrees]

Imagine being Jessica Moore, and you've been in Heaven for you're not even sure how long. You have this vague recollection of how you died - Brady coming over and his eyes turning black, and he says "Sorry, Jess, nothing personal. But we really need Sammy to stop playing house and get back to his destiny," and then there's a slice across your belly and so much heat, and the last thing you see from where you're pinned to the ceiling is Sam's face. Horrified, tragic, but not surprised or shocked. And his brother, running through the flames of your life to drag him out.

So you're in Heaven. And it's the best day of your life, over and over, a monotony of happiness with a facsimile of Sam at your side, until suddenly it changes. The walls come down, and there are more people there. Old friends, your grandparents, their grandparents - almost everyone you could hope for. And you know that one day, Sam will be in Heaven, too. You know (you hope) that you'll share him, because you love him and hope that he found happiness with someone after you. Not too soon, but sometime. And then one day you feel it.

Sam is here. Sam is in Heaven. And it might not happen immediately, but he's going to come see you.

You just didn't expect it to be daysweeksmonths later, roaring up in his brother's big black car, but somehow that makes sense. And the way they get out of the car... identical movements, swinging their legs out and slamming their doors closed in sync. The way Dean hangs back, arms crossed, leaning against the car with a comfortable sort of smile. The way Sam's got his shoulders hunched and his hands in his pockets and how the tallest man you've ever met still manages to look up at you through his hair.

Imagine being Jessica Moore, and Sam Winchester is visiting you in Heaven and trying to apologize for how you died, but it wasn't his fault and you love him still. So all you can do is wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him down, and he wraps his arms tight around your waist, buries his face in your hair, and you always thought that seeing him, feeling him here like this would feel whole.

But it doesn't.

There's something missing, and it's just a small bit for you but it's like a gaping hole in Sam and you remember feeling that when you were alive but here, where the physical is an illusion, it's like a bleeding wound, and when you look over Sam's shoulder to see Dean still leaning against his (their) car, you know.

All it takes is one hand, stretched out to him, and he's there, pressed against Sam's back, wrapping both of you in his strength and "I gotcha, Sammy," rumbled deep and low and somehow.

Somehow you know that if you'd lived, if you'd gotten married and Sam had been a lawyer and never left to find his dad, Dean would have been there. In your home, in your bed, sandwiching Sam between you both. And maybe that should feel wrong, but it feels so right here in Heaven.

Imagine being Jessica Moore, and realizing that Sam comes as a package deal and you can't have him if you won't take Dean, and somehow that's just fine.

[doberbutts]

Yes, I think you and I are in sync right now.

One of my very best friends as a teen, and possibly the only girl I ever truly truly loved, was a girl who was a self-labeled sociopath and also actually diagnosed with ASPD.

She was a lot like the hypothetical. Except, at some point early on in our getting to know each other, she pulled down her walls long enough to ask me why I always made sure I sat with her and brought my friend group over to her table in the school cafeteria when she was doing everything she could to signal that she did not want to be friends with anyone. And I told her it was because no one deserves to be friendless, and I didn't want her to be bullied as the only freshman in high school who did not have a group to stick to.

Our relationship was initially rocky. She did a lot of things that hurt me to my core. I forgave her for them again and again because I saw the moments where she shined bright and happy and I wanted her to have these feelings as much as she could.

She told me once, a few weeks after she asked me why I was bothering with her, that she had expected to graduate high school friendless, go to college, and then kill herself by the time she turned 25 because she didn't see much point in living after that. She told me, somewhat jokingly, that I messed up the first part of her plan by being impossible to scare away, but I couldn't stop her from the second part.

We fought a lot. At some point I asked her if she ever thought about getting help and seeing someone. She didn't talk to me for close to 6 months after that.

The first thing she said to me when she did start talking to me again was that she had begrudgingly started seeing a therapist because it turned out that she liked being friends with me and chasing away her only real friend sucked. As it turns out, her behaviors were largely her coping with all the bullshit in her brain.

I forgave her for that too.

We had a better friendship after that. She went off to college and got out of her parents' house and blossomed. She was happy. She had so much light in her eyes and in her smile. She stopped joking-but-not-really-a-joke about killing herself. She found hobbies and art and skills that she genuinely enjoyed.

I told her that I loved her. She told me that she would never hurt me by letting me do so. That she was too thorny to hold except at a distance.

I don't have an abrupt or a happy or a sad ending to this. We went to college, as I said. We grew apart. I moved away. Her number stopped working. She stopped signing on to her socials. There was no fight. Just time, and conflicting schedules, and opposing interests.

She turned 25 about 8 years ago. I looked her up last year just to see if I could find an obituary. She's still alive.

Every time I torrent something, I think of her. She taught me how.

Every time I watch anime or play certain videogame genres, I wonder if she kept up with it like I did.

She's the reason I got so into dogs. I *liked* dogs when I met her. I knew I wanted dogs as a hobby shortly after, thanks to her. She used to tease me, about this very dog blog, and the now-deleted one I had before it too.

I miss her, and I hope she is doing well. I hope the friendship we shared continues to have a lasting positive impact on her life.

All of this to say- I recognize the behavior. I have loved people with this behavior very intensely. Platonic. Romantic. I understand that it is usually something someone does to protect themselves, whether knowingly or unknowingly.

But I think of people like my old friend, who had someone that didn't give up on them. And I wonder at what point that giving up becomes the only right thing to do.

And I wonder how many of them are in that 6 month gap, where they chased away the one person that wasn't willing to give up on them, and are now realizing that it sucks even more knowing that things were better before they spat on the offered hand. I wonder how many wallow there, and how many extend the olive branch apology and start working their way back out of the pit again despite the backside.

One of my sisters is like this too. And she also extended the olive branch after about 7 years of me deliberately refusing to have anything to do with her. I'm a bit reluctant to trust her. But I have to let her try to be better. Even if I can't forgive the ways she's hurt me.

I don't have a good answer. I don't know that there is one. I just see this behavior and wonder if the folks acting out have ever had someone sit at the lunch table with them just so that they would not be alone. Not expecting anything in return. Just silently offering protection and safety in numbers to keep the sharks from circling.

I know that it is often a trauma response which is why I don't comment on it in the moment but also I think the fundamental problem I have with folks who've made their entire personality into this incredibly bitter, rude, mean-spirited persona that picks fights and issues challenges to strangers (and then cries when someone responds negatively to this) is that I see it as incredibly cruel and thus don't have much tolerance for it, and I'm pretty unwilling to be part of someone else's self-harm where they go looking for fights in order to get the release they're craving when said person snaps back.

It's what I keep saying about how sometimes I scroll thru blogs of tumblr's Worst Take Havers and just find a bunch of hurting, traumatized people under all the nasty behavior and I wonder if there is any way that offered kindness may help them, or at what point they are considered a lost cause. No one is born this way. But people are shaped into this by terrible experiences of the past, and I wonder how many have had a genuine offer for a hand up out of the pit.

[sqeca]

Just me, in spring

I apologize if the translation is not accurate

05 May 2023

Amairoha

Sometimes it's nice to be out of character, right?🐇

It's a little late, but all the Under Live shows for the 32nd single have ended

Thank you so much to everyone who came to see the show. First of all, I'm really glad that everyone was able to finish without any injuries!

I could never have overcome it alone, but I practiced with the 5th generation members, reviewed things with them, learned from them, watched and learned from them, and was encouraged by them

I was able to do my best because of you all.

I can talk a lot more now than I have in the past, and…lots of good things!

This tour was held at venues that were close to everyone, so I was able to see all of my fans 🎨

I was able to easily find people waving their light sticks more than usual, and I was also able to find many people waving towels and such

Whenever I found a new light, I was so happy that I would stare at it in a daze (Oh no, haha)

ーーーーーー

「Hidarimuneno Yuuki 」

This is the first song that we, 5th gen, perform

I was so excited every performance

I was happy to join my senpai from the last chorus and to be able to sing eye to eye with Rei-san and Ayatii-san (It was funny how Ayatii-san always lifted up her hair and said 'fassa-' during rehearsals)

「Chopin no usotsuki」

Before starting this song, we used to do a little cheer with Hazuki-san backstage by shouting "Ei Ei Oh!" together. It was a fun and memorable moment🔆

Even though this song wasn't really about dancing, I loved the alluring choreography. It was one of those songs where I had to practice a lot to express the lyrics through movement. I really studied it and worked hard!

Rururu-san, a.k.a Hayashi-san, had an unmatched singing voice,,,

I loved it so much that I could listen to it forever!

It's such an honor to be on the same team as Hayashi-san. I really love her, a lot!

「Passion fruit no tabekata」

I had the pleasure of singing this song with Riria-san, Ayatti-san, and Aruno! We really put our hearts into the final chorus.

Aruno sang the lower harmony and me did some ad-libs or backing vocals. It made the music sound even better and we had a blast singing together as a team.

I already loved this song so much and listened to it all the time, so singing it with everyone was a dream come true!

「Todokanaku tatte」

I had the honor of performing in the position of my beloved, Kanagawa-san.

Despite the fact that it was a little nerve-racking, I watched a lot of videos and tried to mimic how she moved her body.

Then Kaede-san said, "I'm glad we can do this together," which made me feel more relaxed and confident that I could dance well!

「Nichijou」

Since it was my first time performing as an under member, my biggest impression was how much more energy there was! Your cheers also gave us even more motivation, and we were really in sync with each other! LOL

After the performance, my head was spinning like crazy from all the excitement!

But, you know, that's what makes live performances so thrilling and enjoyable!✌🏻

It was the best! I definitely want to do it again!

「Dare Yori soba ni Itai」

I love the lyrics of this song, and I sang it for all the palette members who were present at each performance. Every time I found the pink and lime green light stick colors, I was able to look out at the audience calmly and feel happy.

I hope my feelings were conveyed to them.

There are still so many things I want to write about, but I can't seem to put them together, so maybe I'll write a little bit at a time next time.

It was an incredible experience, and I feel like I learned so much during the eight performances! I want to keep applying what I've learned and become capable of performing in a way that draws people's attention.

Kaede-san made my dream come true by matching my hair with my senpai. Yup, it was a ponytail!🍁

ーーーーーーーーーーーーー

📢News

Platinum FLASH has featured me and Aya on their web🍅 The concept is "sisters" Please check it out!

Nogizaka Star Birth! airs every Monday night at 25:29 on Nippon Television Network Corporation (NTV)!

Last week it was about a new idol, Iroha Okuda… Did you watch it?

Please be sure to watch it again next week!

◇Lemino:

◇ひかりTV:

・乃木坂あそぶだけ #42 【お散歩に行こう in 玉川上水】

Ayatti-san, Tamami-san and I appeared again and went for a walk with Aya.

We talked casually.

Please check it out when you have time 👀

ーーーーーーーーーーーー

?Iroha ni kikitai no!

Q: Iroha-chan, are you good at making plans when you go on a trip or something?

A: I like it, but I prefer to go there and hang out at my leisure!

Q: What's your favorite outfit these days?

A: The T-shirt that was worn during the Nogizaka Asobu-only walk

Q: Who can eat in bed?

A: I'm the type of person who can eat, and basically doesn't care about anything else.

Q: Which foot do you put on the sock first?

A: Eh! I've never been particular

Q: Do you make your own naan?

A: I posted it on my blog before😚

Q: What have you spent Golden Week doing so far?

A: At home, we were just lounging around, but for a change, we had a BBQ in the backyard with the family

Q: What's your favorite Western music?

A: Jeremy Zucker, One Direction, Charlie Puth

Q: What's your favorite game?

A: I especially like Zelda on the Switch

Q: What's your favorite subject?

A: English! I was good at it

ーーーーーーーーーーーー

Goodbye! Have a great day!

[always-andromeda]

Calvin ideas you say? Can you imagine having to awkwardly hang around him when you take your dog on a walk or to the dog park (or both) because your dogs are like in doggy love with each other and you just think Calvin is the biggest asshole alive

Dog Days | Calvin Weird-Fields x GN!Reader

Calvin Weir-Fields x GN!Reader

Word Count | 666

Author’s Note | SHSHSJSJDJS THIS IS SUCH A GREAT IDEA! I HAD to make a little blurb. I went a little sappy here though, lol.

Warnings | this is pure fluff folks, none!

Lula, you better be happy. You think to yourself as you watch your black Pomeranian romp around with the scruffy little border terrier she now considered her best friend. You went to the dog park pretty often. But it wasn't until Scotty scampered into Lula's life that she found a playmate she couldn't get enough of. The man Scotty dragged with him didn't seem too bad himself either. Or so you thought until he opened his mouth.

Calvin Weir-Fields was...irritating. If you were reading something he'd already read, he didn't hesitate to spoil it in order to spout his opinions. You wouldn't necessarily mind the company if you didn't escape to the dog park just for some alone time. Calvin, on the other hand, was all too eager to make friends. That's what he'd gotten Scotty for, after all.

He looked like a dream in his cream colored cardigan and plaid button up. But the more he talked, the more you realized he was just another one of those nightmarish male artists who flocked in droves to Los Angeles. So of course he slotted himself into your life alongside his dog.

When he'd asked to exchange numbers, the original intent was so you could sync up your trips to the dog park. Calvin had said that he'd just gotten Scotty and he hadn't seen him get so comfortable with another dog so quickly. You relented, giving him your number.

Calvin didn't abuse this, by any means. But something about his dorky little texts made you roll your eyes.

Going to the dog park at 1 PM today! Hope to see you and Lula there! :)

Maybe you'd find it more endearing if it was in line with his behavior in person. He was always so awkward; like he wasn't quite sure what to do with his lanky figure. You're almost grateful that he seems to be completely unaware of how attractive he is. If he knew how to wield his looks, he could ruin you completely.

Okay, we'll be there! You typed back lamely. The most you would give him is common decency. You'll go to the park to make sure Lula gets some play in, but you won't be making friends with Scotty’s owner. At least that's what you tell yourself when Calvin catches you looking at him while he reads.

Calvin smiles slightly before his look fades into one of concern, "You're looking a little tired." he states bluntly.

"Yeah, I didn't get much sleep last night." you reply. Lula had woken you up asking to be let outside at least once every two hours the night before. That's partially why you took Calvin up on his offer to go out today; if you can tire her out more, hopefully she'll be more willing to sleep through the night.

Calvin begins to take off his cardigan and places it on the grass beside him. "If you wanna lay down, you can. I can watch the dogs." he offers. You are tired. And he is being nice. It's probably one of the first times he's said something entirely kind, without even a hint of passive aggression in his voice. 

So, begrudgingly, you lay your head down on his bunched up cardigan. You're immediately hit by the smell of cedar wood; probably the scent of the soap he uses. The fragrance is inviting enough that you cuddle up more to the sweater and shift a little closer to him until your head is almost resting on his thigh right next to the book he's reading.

Calvin wasn't expecting you to get so close so quickly. He tries to move on and not overthink things. But how can he when within minutes, you're gently dozing, hair messily splayed across your forehead and his cardigan pulled up underneath your nose? All he can think to do is to softly pet your hair as he continues to read his book, this time struggling a little to follow the story.

[athyathye]

Youngest Haitani

Part 1

Part 2

Author's note 📝: I was curious how the boys would react if teenage reader dated someone KEJDJEJE

Warnings ⚠️: Violence and profanities are strong in this one.

Little y/n wasn't so little anymore, evident in the way she's starting to seek for relationships, romantic ones at that.

However, older brothers Ran and Rindou weren’t ready for the fact that their little monster was steadily growing into a fine lady.

But of course, you were stealthy enough to hide at least 1 relationship, they only had themselves to blame for being the bad influence.

What better way to find out than by catching the red-handed couple in the backyard of your home.

"Y/n! We’re home. I got the ice cream you wanted. Come get it in the living room…" said Ran as he took off his coat, heading to the bathroom.

Rindou went to your room to check on you seeing as though you didn't respond to them. But all he found was a clean and made bed and your phone on top of it.

Unfortunately, as if fate wanted to mess with you your phone rang at the exact same time revealing your wallpaper that was your significant other's picture.

"Motherf*cker…" Rindou's facial expression turned dark. 

"Oi I said your ice c- where's y/n?" Ran glanced around before seeing the blankness in Rindou’s eyes which caused him to look at where he was looking as well.

Looks like both brothers got murder on their minds. "Hell if I know." They heard giggling by the window, causing them to look away from the phone to the outside world in sync.

They slowly glanced at the figures before slowly facing each other. Fire recognizing fire as they turned to run down where you both were.

"*SSH*LEEEE!!" 

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?! Y/N GET AWAY FROM HIM!" 

'Sh*t' you thought as you protectively hid your taller boyfriend behind you.

"...that *ssh*le?" They looked aggravated as they recognized him from somewhere, which meant that the boy was a bad kid.

You motioned for your boyfriend to leave, urging him fastly with your eyes as you glanced at your older brothers with a glare.

"Now now, Rindou. Y/n is almost an adult, let her do what she wants." Ran had spoke with a smile on his face, though it was the opposite of his trembling hand.

"Ha? No the f*ck not. This b*stard probably couldn't even make around 2 to 3k a month. How's he gonna take care of this girl who couldn't live without expensive junk food?" Rindou ranted, as he turned to look at his older brother.

"Shut up you dried calamari, I dare you to call him that again." 

"Ha? B*star-" expectedly, you threw one of your books at him which he expertly dodged.

"Stop it. You, leave. You, get in the house and eat your ice cream. Rindou, let's go talk." Ran commanded analyzing the boy from top to bottom before he walked and grabbed you, leading you inside the house despite your complaints.

The rest of your day was filled with harsh scolding and insults from you, before they finally let you lock yourself in the room.

"Bro are you seriously gonna let this go? I can't even ima- what's with that look?" 

"I've got a plan."

The next day came, and you had to go to school, while your brothers had to go to a meeting. They never really told you about their jobs, and you never really seemed interested enough, which was actually your benefit. Ignorance is bliss.

Though they watched you go, before they left as well. 

You had to be cautious, they definitely plotted something, seeing as though they've been too calm this morning. But the rest of your day went smoothly just as you had hoped. 

Your heart lightened at the thought of your brothers finally letting you do what you want, smiling in relief at how much they'd trust you.

That was before your boyfriend almost got beat up by their men at the end of his school, you found him in an alleyway cornered.

Of course, having been trained at a young age because of them you took charge. 

You felt rage overtake you, control you to take down the beefiest men that had unfortunately blocked your path to happiness.

"I'm sorry…" you whispered to him, though he only patted your head with a smile, holding you to his chest as you sobbed.

How could they send all these men after this cinnamon roll? Honestly your boyfriend was good and capable. Not at fighting but he knew his priorities, and even knew how to treat you, he set the bar too high up for anybody else to compete for you.

And you weren't going to let his efforts go to waste.

Just as they have your location tracked on their phones, you had theirs as well.

You hadn't even realized you busted into their very important meeting, your tears had blocked up your vision, though not enough for you to beat them up.

Ran's baton that you had inherited was used against him, running for him first because you knew he was the one who plotted it all.

"Hey what- STOP!" he exclaimed before he got b*tch slapped in the head by your choice of a weapon. He groaned from the impact, falling down as he held his head.

You still had tears streaming down your eyes as you held the weapon above you, pointedly glaring at Rindou who had tried to escape, only to be held down by a laughing Sanzu.

"You- you guys are such *ssholes" they heard you whisper, biting your lip in frustration as you tackled Rindou to the ground hitting him over and over again until Ran tried to get you away from him.

Only to get smacked in the face by your elbow...which ultimately knocked him down before you landed a massive blow to Rindou who had also been knocked out.

You ran outside crying after a few seconds. The rest of Bonten was quiet...before Sanzu broke it with a loud laugh.

"DID YOU GUYS SEE HER SWING THAT B*TCH? GOOD ARM STRENGTH! GOOD ARM STRENGTH!" Sanzu loudly exclaimed, almost dying from his wheezing.

"I'm gonna go check on her" Said koko as he maneuvered his way out.

Mikey whistled as he looked at the knocked out bodies of his two commanders.

"What happened to the boy though?"

[hanjizung]

♡ Dreamy Welcome. ♡

Lee Minho x Reader.

Word count:  4.4K

♡ Warnings ♡: SMUT; (mentions of) orgasm control, fingering, masturbation, (a bit of) exhibitionism, creampie, breeding kink, basically just love making, pet names.

Hello! im back with another request from when i reblogged this promp list ! [8) “If you’re going to act like a little brat then I’m going to treat you like a little brat.”] hope you enjoy!

You had been missing Minho a lot since he went on tour, missed everything about him; his voice, his laugh, his smile, the way he called your name, how he hugged you and kissed you on the forehead after teasing you… His whole absence felt weird, it wasn’t killing you but you missed him a lot, you needed him back as soon as possible.

There was an unwritten list of things you wanted to do with him once he was back; first you had to hug him, tell him how much you had missed him while kissing his face and making him feel a little shy from all the affection you were giving him in front of his members, then you would steal him and take him to your house for a movie night where the only thing you would actually focus on is going to be take care of him, massage him if he wants, play with his hair and cuddle with him on your couch until he fell asleep, and the last thing on your list was to make him fuck you senseless.

Of course the two of you had the occasional phone sex, it was mostly him hiding in the bathroom between practices and telling you to touch yourself for him, moaning his name but never cumming, because he said that he wanted you to cum on his cock, he wanted to be the one to give you an orgasm that would have you seeing stars.

That was the promise he made during one of those calls late at night that had you feeling needy and in not a very good mood for the next day, it made you feel frustrated that you stayed always at the edge, but you were equally proud that you hadn’t broken his one rule.

The day he called you and told you with a happy voice that his last concert was in 3 more nights and that in two days after that you would be able to see him, you exploded. When you went to work you got asked multiple times what had happened that you couldn't stop smiling, making you laugh and lie to them that you were just excited for something that happened to one of your cousins or something like that.

It was a more contrastive mood than how you behaved last week, bags under your eyes, eyes semi closed from how tired you were and not so happy because your beautiful boyfriend required a session of self love where he got to edge you multiple times. Twice, to be more precise, the sudden change surprised everyone at your workplace. You seemed more energetic and focused, you did all your work with a smile on your face and you sang during your break when you ate.

You asked your boss if you could leave earlier one day, and seeing how competent you were behaving he accepted, wishing you good luck and telling you that he expected you to stay working as efficiently as possible and that he was happy with your work pace. You simply nodded, not hearing much of his speech because everything that was in your mind was your beautiful boyfriend.

Days passed quickly and you found yourself showering at 4 am to be able to go and receive your boyfriend and the rest of your friends in time. You would be done getting ready at 5, then had to get a taxi to the airport and then you would be able to spend the day with all of them, just like you wanted.

The early morning was cold, and you were thankful that you decided to wear an appropriate coat to protect yourself from the weather. You placed your hands together out of nervousness, anticipating the moment that all of them would arrive, walking through their fans and following the staff to where their vans were parked.

True… you couldn't run to Minho and wrap your arms around him. You had to keep the black mask above your nose and the dark glasses to avoid raising suspicion and pretend to be another staff member. Your relationship was a secret…

Sighing, a plane finally landed and the giant bodyguards that you sometimes brought candies to started walking towards it, you running not too far from them and breathing in to try and control your excitement, failing momentarily when you saw a group of men walk out followed by some other people close behind them. You recognized each one of your friends as soon as they walked out, they wore comfortable clothes and they seemed to be needing some more rest.

The real staff instructed them to go to the previously prepared cars, and you rushed to find your dance machine boyfriend.

You waited for Changbin, Jisung and Seungmin to get inside the car, Minho noticed you and he got in, waiting for you to close the door after you hopped in to hug you and pull you close to him in a loving manner. In the front seats, there was one of the bodyguards and the designated driver. You snuggled closer to Minho, he whispered "I missed you a lot" for you to hear only and he kissed your forehead gently, making you feel incredibly happy.

Not even 10 minutes inside the car, and soft snores could be heard, Minho's weight felt heavy in your side, but you didn't care, you were happy knowing that from that day he would get to rest for a long period of time, and you expected to spend a lot of time with him.

The stillness of the car made you open your eyes, rubbing them to get accustomed to the sun rays filters through the clear front window and you realized that you had finally arrived at the dorms. The bodyguard opened the door for you, giving you his hand to help you out. You shook Minho gently to help him wake up, yawning when he looked at you with disoriented eyes, and then you took the waiting hand to wait for them outside.

When all of them were outside the car, you helped them walk to their corresponding dorm, helping Minho walk with closed eyes because he wasn't fully awake, and when you finally got to your destination, the door was unlocked and there was a mountain of baggage and bags ready to unpack, but that would be a problem for later. In the kitchen, sitting with his laptop in front of him was Chan, he gave a low "good mornin" when he saw who had arrived, continuing to do whatever it was that he had on display in the screen in front of him. You nodded, silently greeting him and then walked to Minho's shared room. He plopped down on his bed, moving and patting the side next to him for you to lay down next to him, and you did.

"I missed you" you whispered, burying your face in his chest and hugging him tightly, making him chuckle quietly.

"I missed you too, hot stuff" he whispered back, looking down at you and patting your back gently.

The two of you stayed like that, there was no need to speak any more words, you were finally holding him, you were finally in his arms and you felt so loved. This was your safe place.

With those thoughts in your head, you dozed off again, your breathing almost syncing with Minho's steady one.

You had a beautiful dream with him, it started with you sitting on the porch of your childhood home observing the street until a younger looking Minho appeared and took your hand. He guided you to the insides of the place that used to be your home. He kissed you playfully at first, then he took your face with his hand and held you in place as the heat of the kiss increased and moments later he was eating you out in the kitchen aisle.

You were enjoying the dream probably a little too much, because you were woken up suddenly by your boyfriend's hands on your shoulder, moving you gently to bring you back to the real world.

"Seems like you had an interesting dream, didn't you?" he said. You blushed, hitting him gently on his chest and groaning.

"Maybe I wouldn't dream such things if someone," you shoot him a glare "didn't get me all worked up and then didn't allow me to cum" you complained, making him laugh. You were daring him, and you knew that, but you needed to know how much he would wait until he finally gave you what you wanted and fucked you hard like he'd done before he left.

"Oh, really, baby? It's my fault, then?" he asked. You pouted and nodded, looking at him with needy eyes. "Then I must do something to reward you for being so good, right?" his hand snaked on your tummy, getting to the edge of your shirt and going under it until it reached your breast.

His hand squeezed you, gaining a sigh from you. Two of his fingers played with your nub moment later, he shifted so he would be on his side and able to play with you, his lips finding a home in your neck and kissing you lazily, the caress of his lips against your skin and the sensation of him teasing your nipoles felt amazing, it was enough for you to start getting wet and your breathing to turn irregular, but all that ended when Jisung shamelessly opened the door.

"Hey guys, who's awake already? Does anyone wanna watch a movie?" he asked no one in particular, Minho's movement stopped and his arm quickly moved to wrap around your waist, his head fell against his pillow and you closed your eyes again to pretend to still be asleep. It was almost as if nothing between the two of you had happened, which would actually seem like it were true if both your hearts weren't racing from almost being caught.

You heard movement from the other side of the room, you recognized Hyunjin's steps passing through the door accompanied with a humm and later Seungmin's voice was heard, answering Jisung who was still standing by the entrance.

"I'm kinda hungry. I'll join if we order something to eat" he said, the sound of feet against the floor letting you know he was ready to leave the room.

"Sure, let's try to convince Chan to pay," Jisung responded, waiting for Seungmin to walk with him to the living room, but when Seungmin reached him, Jisung didn't move. "Shouldn't we wake Minho and ask him if he wants something as well?"

"Nah, he stayed up the whole flight I think, and besides, he's with Y/N. Let's order something for them and let them sleep," Seungmin said, his tired voice making it clear that he didn't want to deal with trying to wake Minho up.

The answer seemed to be enough for Jisung, and the two of them left, closing the door behind them. Just then, you allowed yourself to sigh in relief.

Next to you, Minho rolled on his side, his back now at you making you confused. "What are you doing?" you asked.

"You heard them, they think we're asleep, so we might go back to sleep again, don't you think?" he responded, his tone still low. You whined, hugging his whole body as best as you could, your mouth reaching his ear to whisper to him:

"But I'm so wet… are you really going back to sleep and leave me like this?" you cried to him, you knew he could feel you putting on the tone of voice you decided to use, but he didn't say anything, so you tried your luck again.

"Please, if you're not going to fuck me at least finger me, I've missed you so much… I've been waiting for you to use me for so long" you continued, begging with a low voice and pressing your lips against the shell of his ear, starting a trail of kisses down all the uncovered skin you could see, high diving yourself in your mind when you felt him shiver under your touch.

Minho finally sighed, giving in and turning so now he would be facing you, your eyes almost shone when his right hand went to your hip and his face got closer to yours to steal a passionate kiss that you now would end up making you feel like the world was spinning.

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips when both of you tried to recuperate your normal breathing, drawing a raised eyebrow from your boyfriend. You simply took his face with both of your hands and started kissing him again, suddenly one of your hands leaving his cheek to guide the hand resting on your hip to where you needed him most. If he noticed, he had been nice enough to not say anything.

Or that's what you thought, because then he broke the kiss and growled quietly, his fingers playing with the button of your jeans until he was able to open them and he wasted no more time, his slender digit slipping past your underwear and feeling all the wetness between your legs.

"Oh, Y/N, you're so fucking wet, kitten" he muttered. His hand moved away from where you wanted it to be, making you complain and furrow your eyebrows while he showed you his glistening finger before guiding it to your lips for you to lick it clean yourself. Minho rolled his eyes when you grabbed his hand and made it touch you again, you didn't care how needy you seemed, everything you could think of was how much you'd love for him to rail you.

His fingers started working on you, slowly caressing your clit and gathering your essence before he entered you, making you sigh. He was staring at you, silently admiring your features that showed just how good he was making you feel. You weren't looking at him, your eyes closed as you tried to focus on the way he was making you feel, but you didn't need to see him to know how much he was grinning, proud to have you biting your lip to not moan too loud. At some point your breathing got heavier and your legs started to tremble, the last signal meaning that you were close was when your walls embraced his fingers, your mouth opened as you found home in the ecstasy-like sensation, Minho tried to prolong it by over stimulating you.

After a moment, he finally removed his fingers from your inside and licked it clean from your juices while you recovered.

"Was that better?" he asked, gaining a humming from you as an answer.

"It was good, but I still want you to fuck me" you finally said, pouting. He opened his eyes wide, as if he was actually surprised, and said:

"You're so greedy, my needy baby wants something else besides my fingers, huh? Go clean yourself and let's go to your house then. I'll give you the best welcome back fuck of your life" he kissed your forehead, waiting for you to stand up after you heard what he said.

"Really?" you asked, full of hope. He nodded, and you almost jumped from the bed to run to the bathroom, standing in front of the door fixing your jeans before walking out the room, remembering that you weren't alone.

You made your way silently to the bathroom, saving your hand at Jeongin who apparently had gone to his room for something and happened to find you on his journey to go back to the living room. He seemed tired, as if he hadn't fully tested, but his memory worked just fine because before you entered the bathroom he told you that they were going to watch a movie and had called for some takeout food for everyone. You thanked him and got inside to do what you had to do.

An hour later, you found yourself cuddling Mingo on the only individual couch after eating and watching a comedy with the rest of the members. Some were on their phone, some still eating and others were cuddling just like you were. It was a relaxed night, and you were having a good time, but the words Minho had told you earlier resonated in your head and your pussy was louder than your heart, screaming at you to act out and make Minho take you home to complete his promise.

Covered with a blanket, your hand snaked down his form and entered his joggers, feeling up his cock. You weren't looking at him to know his reaction, but he quickly squeezed you as a warning to not continue your devilish plans.

You didn't care, continuing to tease him until he got hard enough and that's when you pressed yourself against him. He sighed, but pushed himself against you almost as if encouraging you to keep going.

"Stop, Y/N. We'll leave after the movie is over" he whispered, trying to get you to reason with him.

The answer he got was you pulling his joggers and boxers down with one hand carefully, freeing his hardened cock from its prison and wrapping your hand around him, making him hiss. One of his hands went to your neck, pulling your head back to tell you one last thing.

“Kitten, if you’re going to act like a little brat then I’m going to treat you like a little brat when we get to your house" he murmured, quiet enough for you to listen to his words only.

If you were going to be punished, you might as well continue what you started.

Minho's hold on you tightened when he realized that you had set your mind on torturing him, you knew the risk of possibly getting caught was high and that it made everything way more exciting, but all your tries at being subtle and not drag any attention to the both of you were affecting him horribly. He hated how you ceased all movement when someone shifted or how you tensed when everyone stopped talking was like pure hell for Minho.

His cock twitched, and he faked a yawn to hide the noise that came out of him. You took advantage of it, and played along with it.

"Oh, you're still tired? We should go back to your room so you can sleep, don't you think?" you whispered, long enough for the rest of the members to hear.

Minho caught up with what you were doing, faking another yawn and hugging your body as if you were a plushie. He nodded, and you fixed his clothes quickly so the two of you could stand up.

Minho had other plans, and stood up with you in his arms, the blanket covering his boner. Everyone's eyes were on you two, so you said goodnight and entered the shared room again. Once inside, he didn't even turn the light on, walking straight to the bed after closing the door and dropping you there.

"I can't believe you're making me break Chan's 'no fucking in the dorms' rule" he said, taking his shirt off. You laughed, starting to undress as well.

"As if you really cared about rules" you said, opening your arms for him when you and him were finally fully naked.

"You're right, I only care about you and fucking you. You'll get your punishment later" he replied, hovering over you and positioning his member at your entrance, pressing your foreheads together as he slowly entered you. He kissed you before he started slamming into you, trying to maintain your moans to a minimum so the whole 'going to sleep' act could still be believable to your friends.

With your arms thrown around his neck and your legs hugging his waist, you felt the happiest, like you were in heaven. Finally, Minho was filling you with his cock, making you feel like he was the missing piece in your life that left a hole in your constant day to day with his sole absence, but now he was back, fucking you, kissing you; loving you, and it made your head and your heart swim with happiness, because he was back and you would have him like before he left.

He was thrusting you carefully, slowly but not too much to make you feel bored or annoy you, it was almost the right speed to make the moment last longer, a try to be more passionate with you. Minho's grunts and your heavy breathing were all you cared about, you forgot about everything outside the door, but the way your reasonable side made you moan quietly still brought a sense of reality to you, you whimpered and opened your mouth to exhale, his own breathing on your face making you open your eyes to look at him while he kept working, rocking his hips against yours and trying to make you cum for the second time of the day.

"I love you" you told him quietly, looking up at his sweaty face and pulling him in by his neck to kiss him lovingly like you meant to do when you saw him coming out of the plane.

Minho smiled against your lips, allowing his weight to fall on you and support himself on his left elbow, using his right hand to caress your cheek and move a strand of your hair that had gotten on your face so he could admire you better. When he finished the kiss, you thought he would return to the old position, supporting himself with both arms, but he didn't and instead he started kissing your whole face, making you giggle and close your eyes, with each kiss he left on your face you could say he tried to speed up to finally make you reach your well deserved orgasm, everything in that moment felt so intimate, and the addition of the kisses on your face and him gently cupping your cheek let you know this wasn't simple fucking anymore.

You would make a disgusted face at how cheesy it sounded, but in that very moment you couldn't describe the intimate activity as anything else than love making.

It wouldn't be the first time that Minho treats you as gentle as this, but something… felt different. You couldn't quite tell what it was, maybe because it had been months since you were with him, or because you missed him so much, but the ambient felt more mature in the aspect that you knew that his sweet whispers praising you and reminding you that he loved you as well and that you meant so much to him were not just words.

You wanted to cry, but you knew this wasn't the moment, your quiet moans mixed with giggles and adoring smiles disappeared when the new hard thrusting made your walls tighten around Minho's cock, and without any advice you came. You knew that there was a high percentage that the boys already knew what the two of you were up to thanks to the cracking of the bed and the specific noise of skin slapping sounds, but you still wanted to try and drown your moans to simulate that you were sleeping.

"Ah, baby…" Minho grunted, his face hiding in the crook of your neck to then whisper to you "I'm gonna cum…" followed by the twitching of his cock inside you.

"C-cum inside me, fill me up" you said back, your broken voice and tucked out features when he moved to see you being all he needed to release his seed inside you.

The warm sensation of his semen flowing in you made you smile, and your panting boyfriend pulled out of you to take the tissues box he hid under his bed for all occasions.

You looked at him when he kneeled in front of you to clean you, knowing how tired he actually was by the way his eyes were closing, and you appreciated how he still worried to clean you and not let you all sticky, very sweet of him.

The two of you dressed up lazily, this time laying in bed to sleep like you had said that you would do some time ago.

"I'm so happy you're back, I really missed you" you whispered, your hand resting flat on his chest as you listened to his heart beating under you.

"I'm glad to be back as well, kitten. I thought I would go crazy if I spent more days without seeing you" he joked, patting your head with his hand.

"Let's not think about it now, I had a hard time without cumming when you weren't here" he laughed at your words responding by squeezing you a bit.

"Well, if you're going to be this needy every time I come back, I don't mind leaving you as much" he said back, tone so serious that it scared you.

"You're not being serious, right?" you moved, looking at his face. He had his eyes closed, but the faint shadow of a smile creeping on his lips. He opened them to look at you before he answered you.

"Of course not, kitten. The last thing I want is to be away from you, it's so hard to be far from you when I love you this much" he finally said, making you sigh in relief and your heart throb inside your chest.

"It's not my fault that you love me so much, you're only guilty for making me love you so bad" you smiled, going back to resting on his chest.

"Shhh, you know, that I'm the best that's happened in your life, but we can talk about how awesome I am later, now sleep. I promise I'll be here when you wake up" he moved, shifting to press a kiss on your forehead.

"I hope so, you promised me the fuck of my life when we go to my house and I can't wait for that" you laughed, poking his side.

"We'll see when tomorrow comes, but sleep first. Good night, baby, I love you."

[misschifuyu]

Temporary

characters: sano manjiro (mikey) + gn! reader

genre: angst

warnings: swearing

It didn’t take a genius to notice.

At first, you figured it was simply because of work; busy work amongst the members that he had to deal with, taking up all his free time. You understood what it meant to be the leader of such a prestigious gang - if one could call it as such - so you didn’t think much of it.

“Did everything go okay today?”

“Yeah”

It was strange, to say the least, seeing him so quiet as you greeted him into your home. Having not seen him in a few days, you figured this would be a perfect opportunity to get together, one Wednesday afternoon you thought he would be free.

Of course, he had answered your text with an ‘okay’ to your suggestion; as a result, you were surprised to see him in such a glum mood.

That afternoon he had sat with you, but it felt as though the two of you were miles apart. Only a few words were exchanged, and you knew, without a doubt, that something wasn’t right.

Days passed on, and you tried to leave him some space. You knew well how much Mikey could get overwhelmed with life’s troubles, so you figured it was best to leave him sort them out before trying to intervene. The last thing you wanted was to make matters worse, after all, so you trusted it was the right decision.

Unfortunately, this ended up spanning into a week without knowing anything about him.

As it got to the 7th day, you couldn’t stop yourself from calling him. Grabbing your own, you clicked on his profile, a picture of the two of you showing up as you did.

What if something had happened to him?

Listening to the ringing tone by your ear, your mind drifted off into all the possibilities; despite knowing how your boyfriend was, you still worried for him. More than he could ever even imagine, frankly.

After a few seconds, you reckoned he wasn’t going to pick up. You couldn’t even begin to think of why, your legs taking you out into the streets of Tokyo as you hurried to the place you could only think he would be.

Near the riverbed.

Luckily, your house wasn't located too far from the spot where you had spent countless evenings throughout your relationship. It always seemed to bring Mikey a sense of serenity, watching the water flow by as he would rest on the grassy hill. Truthfully, you weren't entirely sure you'd find him there, but it was a place to start searching for him, at least.

Rounding the corner of the final block, you spotted a sitting figure. By the flowing, black jacket that was hung on the person's back, you recognised them immediately - unless another Toman member had decided to get a very similar haircut to your boyfriend, that is.

You were relieved, glad to know that you weren't going to have to search for him or even ask around for his whereabouts. And as far as you could tell, he didn't seem to be injured or in any bad state. Letting your chest heave out a deep breath from running just seconds earlier, you slowed down your pace to approach him.

He was silent. No surprise, seeing as he was alone, but as you got closer you could tell that he was far from being in a happy mood. The way his eyes were locked onto the distant view of the city made it clear that he was deep in though, and seeing as he wasn't accompanied by anyone, it would seem that he had come here to be alone with his thoughts.

A sense of pity filled your senses, and all you wanted to do was console him. But you knew that would be of no way to come up to him, so you stopped a few metres away from him, hoping he had already sensed your presence, so as to not startle him.

"...Manjiro?"

Addressing him by his first name, you remained still in your position. By his slow reaction, you assumed he had known you were there, but had chosen to ignore your presence until you spoke up.

He looked up at you with what could only be described as an empty stare. It worried you, seeing him look at you with such dull eyes, but you stood silent, waiting for him to speak up on his behalf.

"Why are you here?"

Far from what you had expected as the first words he aimed at you after a week's worth of disappearance, you sucked in a breath. Was this really his reaction upon seeing you after such a time period? And if you hadn't come, would he have continued to act as if you held no place in his life?

"I wanted to make sure you were doing okay...You haven't come over for a week, so I was starting to worry and-"

"It was for your own good"

Upon his interruption, you knitted your eyebrows together, a prominently confused look on your face.

"What?"

Mikey blinked away from you, looking instead towards whatever was behind you. He was avoiding eye contact with you, and that was the last thing you needed when you were trying to understand him. His distance had been a clear sign that something was wrong, and now he couldn't even bare to look straight at you.

"Things have been getting complicated as of late, and I didn't want to bother you with all of that"

Now that you had a closer look at him, you could see that he wasn't in the same shape he was always in. His right arm, which had been out of your sight until you stopped before him, showed a series of dark bruises, and a nasty cut was split by his top lip, clearly caused recently by the bright, red tones that made up the injury.

That wasn't to mention his ripped attire. Strewn across the sleeves and even the front piece, they looked to be a consequence from a knife, tearing the fabric in an attempt to reach him instead.

"Mikey, you know you would never bother me with any of this, you should've come to my house, I would've helped you"

With a shake of his head, the blond strands that you so loved to run your fingers through moved in sync with his movements.

"No, Y/N. Shit gets ugly after a fight, and the last thing I want is for you to see me like that. Can't you just be patient for a little longer?"

His tone was starting to sound aggravated, and you hadn't the faintest ideas as to why. All you had done was come up to him to ask about his wellbeing, and yet he was adamant in pushing you away.

"Patient? Mikey, I've been worried sick this past week, not knowing where you've been or what you've been doing. All I've gotten are ignored calls and messages, do you really expect me to just be alright with that?"

He had turned to look back at the river by now, listening to you but with what seemed to be very little interest. It was as if you were speaking to a wall, and you were starting to get worried that this wasn't going to end well.

The fact he didn't trust you enough to continue to be at his side when at his lowest point was giving you clear signs that something wasn't going right in the relationship. He had helped you countless times when you needed him, so how come he didn't allow himself to seek out your help in such times?

The silence between the two of you was heart wrenching.

"Manjiro? Are you even listening to me?"

Shoulders lifting, he closed his eyes momentarily before turning fully towards you.

"Y/N, I'm just fucking afraid you'll end up seeing me the way I see myself. It's not all sunshine and smiles, but I don't want you to see that because I know damn well you'll leave me if I show up to your house looking like this"

So he didn't.

He didn't believe he could count on you when he was going through tough moments. He truly thought you were so empty-hearted that you would leave him for something you knew right from the start could happen. Hell, you knew before even dating that he could show up busted and bloodied out of the blue.

And yet he had convinced himself that, somehow, you would ditch him because of it.

He had created a distance between the two of you, one that you had never thought even existed. On your behalf, such a gap had never even come to mind, but it seemed his just continued to grow.

"I would never leave you for something like that, Mikey...why would you even think of that? I love you for everything that you are, no matter the state you come home in"

"Don't lie to yourself, Y/N. I know what kind of person I can be, and it's far from something one would want to be with. I'm a worthless idiot who spends his days fighting endlessly without a clear objective...what if I end up doing the same to you?"

"Mikey, don't say that, you know-"

"No, I fucking don't, okay? Every damn day I'm scared that I could turn on everything that I know and love, and I don't want you to go through that"

You could feel a knot in your stomach as you took in his words, each one hurting more that the last. Why would he speak about himself like that? You knew he didn't have an easy life but, turn on everyone? That was far from the reality.

"But-"

"Look, I'm not dealing with this, now or ever. If it bothers you that much, you can leave. I'm not going to put you in any sort of danger, so if you see that as negligence, I don't see us getting any further than this"

That's how he felt.

That's how he felt about the relationship; something to be brushed off so easily in a matter of a few words.

Just a temporary circumstance.

[jamiedc-they-them]

Natasha and Yelena, your sisters, supporting you after a relationship ends:

For a friend. Hope this helps, honey <3

It had come out of nowhere. It had just happened.

The first thing you did was to call Yelena and Natasha. Despite being separated for a bit after bringing the Red Room down, you were able to reach them.

They both answered instantly. And, despite it being a text message to both, it was comforting that they: A) got back quicky; and B) were willing to drop what they were doing to come help you.

They came around, almost in sync. The first thing they did was give you a hug. You sat in the middle of them on the sofa.

"What do you want to do about them?" Natasha asked. You looked to her, knowing what you wanted to do, but wasn't sure if she'd go for it.

Looking to Yelena, however, you saw that she was indeed on board. She had the same idea.

Yelena nodded. As if reading your mind. She grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. She was in, 100%.

You looked back to Natasha, "You think we can find them?"

Natasha took a breath. Before she nodded, "Sure. I still have some access to some SHIELD stuff."

"And I have some favors I can call in. We'll find them, Y/N." Yelena promised.

"Ok," you said to your sisters, "let's find them."

And so, they get to work. Calling in all the favors they need.

As they do, Yelena pulls you aside, "do you have somewhere to stay?"

You shake your head. She nods hers.

"That fucker," she curses, "it's fine. You can stay with me. I have a few places you might like. They feel like home."

You have to gulp back tears. So thankful for your sisters in this time. Yelena can see the thanks you are giving her, and she pulls you in for a hug, "I have you, Y/N. I have you."

You bury your head into her shoulder. She runs her hand through your hair.

"It's ok, Y/N. Let it out. Trust me. I know from experience, that keeping feelings in is never a good thing."

You pull back a bit, "I thought you were -"

"Oh, I am aromantic and asexual still, don't worry. I just mean the anger I had at the Red Room. The anger I had at myself. We're here, ok? If you need to rant. We're here."

"Do you think this'll fix it? For me, I mean?"

"I think it will help," she admits, "but we're here long term. We aren't going anywhere until you want us to."

You're about to reply, when Natasha enters, "we found them."

You see a twinkle in Yelena's eyes. She's going to enjoy this, maybe more so than you would.

As you go, you find out more about this person you used to give your heart to. Turns out, they were a part of the Red Room program. They knew about your past but did nothing to help you with that. They just dropped you when you were of, apparent, no use to them.

They left you because they had all the information they needed. They wanted your sisters. They wanted the three of you to go back to whatever new version of it they had made.

Like hell were you doing that.

If anything, it only fueled you more.

You arrived at their new place. A place filled with guards.

It was almost swarmed by them. Going in guns blazing would be suicide.

"What's the plan, Y/N?" Natasha asks you. The two look to you. It's your op, they have your back no matter what.

You know you have a home with them. You always will.

"We don't kill any guards. Just them, ok?"

They nod. They can do that.

So, you go at it from three different ways. Each finding your own entrance after you had scouted the place out.

Despite the guards, you're three trained black widows. It isn't exactly like this type of thing is new to you.

You make it to the place of your target. There they are, smugly on the phone. Almost happy about the pain they have caused you.

The three of you reunite, and you enter the room. Natasha puts a device on the wall, one that makes the room soundproof to anyone outside. You rush your target. You're not holding back on your assault. They hurt you. They broke you. They aren't getting away with it. They hurt who knows how many other people.

Finally, the three of you finish the job with your pistols. Three bullets for you and their other victims from the Red Room.

Natasha looks to you, "Feeling better?"

You look to her, "Yeah."

Yelena smiles, "I know it might not be my field. But, if you want to, you'll find someone else. But, just know we're here, always."

You smile at your sisters, "I know."

You know that, with them, you can right any wrong.

[julyarchives]

Oblivious

→ A/n: Yanan x Reader

→ Genre: Fluff

→ Words:  1.3K

→ A/n: This story was just so sweet to write, our hearts are beating fast for Yanan 🥺 Thank you so much for requesting this, we hope you like our story 💕

There are days that your job is everything you've ever asked for, but there are also days where you just wanted to go home and not get out of bed for the next 36 hours. Unfortunately, today was one of the latter.

Having to deal with people is always stressful to you, especially when they are rude to you for things that are out of your control, and that just drained your energy for the rest of the day.

Yanan was already at your apartment when you arrived, waiting for you with your favorite food and a bright smile.

"I thought you could use some comfort food today" he said, shrugging shyly.

"Thank God I gave you my spare key" you hugged him dramatically.

As usual, you had texted him all day, complaining about everything that happened, but you certainly didn't expect for him.to do this for you. Nevertheless, your mood already improved a million percent.

"I also added a few rom-coms to your Netflix list so we can watch while eating the ice cream I bought for dessert." He wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh softly.

"Seriously, I don't deserve you" you kissed his cheek with an exaggerated noise.

Yanan is undoubtedly great at making you forget any problems you are having, so by the end of dinner, you were already having so much fun that you didn't even remember what you were upset about.

You watched the movie in bed, sitting under cozy blankets and stuffing your mouth with big chunks of chocolate ice cream.

"Life could be this easy, you know?" You whined, leaning your head on his shoulders.

"Like what? A romantic comedy?" He laughed at your drama.

"I mean it!" You slapped his arm lightly "she gets a nice job and a nice boyfriend! Is it so bad that I want that?" You pouted.

"Well, you do love your job, today was just a bad day." He caressed your head softly,

"I know" you sat up straight "what about a boyfriend, though? No guys want anything to do with me"

"Ah, that's easy" he paused and looked deep into your eyes "you already have me"

You stared at him completely panicked, your cheeks probably burning red.

Yanan has been your best friend for years already, and it's not news to you that you have feelings for him. For quite a while, actually, you noticed that you get a different kind of nervousness next to him. The jealousy you felt when he dated someone was not the friend-jealous type, and you definitely felt attracted to him.

So when he said that you didn't need a boyfriend, you were afraid he somehow found out about your feelings for him.

"What do you mean?" You laughed nervously

"Think about it" he smiled charmingly, the way you knew he did when he was trying to convince someone of something. "We are great together, aren't we?"

"I guess?" You furrowed your eyebrows, not really getting his point.

"We have known each other forever. You know me better than anyone, and I do you. I know everything you love and hate, and I can spoil you better than anyone. Besides, we are basically a couple, aren't we? Look at us!."

You felt so nervous that your heart felt like it might jump off of your throat

"Yeah, but-" you tried to say something, but he continued

"We are always together, and honestly when I have an awful day, all I wanna do is call you for comfort. Not to mention how we are always in sync!".

Yanan watched you with a soft smile while your mouth hung open and your chest heaved. It wasn't possible that he said all those things without knowing about your feelings but yet, there was no way he could know. If he spoke all of that, it meant that he felt that way and you felt a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest, your stomach doing flips of nervousness.

"I agree", you smiled at him, only to see his eyes lit up and his smile widened. "But about when you find a girl? I'll be alone with my romcoms and ice cream", you laughed at your own awful state.

"No", Yanan suddenly got serious and sat straight, hand moving your hair from your face. "I don't think that'll happen".

"Ha. As if", you moved until you felt Yanan's shoulder behind your back, his arm immediately holding your shoulder, all subconsciously. "You're an incredibly nice guy, charming and funny, and so handsome. In no time a girl will steal your heart".

"Actually, that already happened", he answered, still facing you.

Your face fell. You were already staring ahead and were thankful for that. Of course, he'd be in love with someone already. Everything he just spoke was all about your amazing friendship and you were the one delusional.

"But", Yanan made sure you looked at him. "I just told you that when I find the girl for me, you wouldn't be alone with your movies and ice cream".

"That's because you're too nice-", you barely had time to finish when he cut you off.

"That's because the girl is you".

"Wait, what?" You blinked a couple of times

"Geez, you're so dense." He laughed fondly. "But yeah, all I was trying to say is that I have feelings for you. More than friendship feelings. And I think I got to a point where I can't just stand next to you and not say anything about it."

He suddenly looked shy, but so precious that you just wanted to grab him and kiss him.

"I have been trying to come up with a way to tell you that I fell in love with you for ages, I guess now would be a good time to confess?" You chuckled

"I guess, yeah" he laughed shyly "why didn't you say something before?"

"Our friendship is the most important thing in my life, and I didn't want to risk losing that. I didn't want to risk losing you."

"You would never lose me, y/n" his free hand held yours gently

"And what does this mean for us?" You asked, suddenly feeling timid whilst his presence filled the whole room with his confidence

"Now I have to ask officially." He released his embrace on you, getting up and gently pulling you to stand in front of him. He looked into your eyes and opened the most charming smile. "Y/n, we've always been best friends, and for a while, I thought I was the luckiest man alive for that. But over the years you taught me that I can not predict anything when it comes to you. You're always changing and you make me change with you. You make me a better person every day and now I'm only missing one thing to actually be the luckiest. Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

You couldn't find words since Yanan stole all of them from you. Your head was overflowing with emotions, and all you managed to answer was a nod, and the next thing you knew, Yanan's lips found yours.

His tender embrace on you made every muscle on your body relax and you gave yourself completely to him. You never thought this day would come, but kissing him was better than anything you've ever fantasized about. You knew now that there was no going back, you would not be able to hold any of these feelings to yourself.

You pulled apart and he cupped your cheek, caressing your face with his thumb while you two smiled fondly at each other, giggling like two teenagers.

"If I had known that a bad day at work would be what it takes for us to date, I would have found a reason to have one way sooner" you joked.

"That sounds like something out of a rom-com, are you happy now?" He pushed you on the bed and started tickling you, making you squeal and squirm under him.

When he finally stopped, he soothed you with a shy peck to your lips.

You just couldn't stop smiling, and Yanan's face mirrored yours. You felt grateful and finally, you could admit to yourself out loud.

"Much happier now"

[babylooneytoonz]

a little bit of you, a little bit of me

— pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

— summary: Tommy and you had a one night stand right when Tommy was 18 and you were 17 and you fell pregnant with a baby girl- but wanted to convince your husband it’s his- so Tommy grew up seeing his daughter every day grow up in the street and with her other dad. And on her eighteenth birthday she comes into the garrison for a drink with a purpose to meet Tommy.

This is requested by an anonymous, although the request was slightly different, I have modified it a bit and I hope you like it.🤍

A/N- I just modified it a bit because I am really not good with the timelines so there might a slight difference in the age . Let's just assume this is set in 1908 which I suppose is when Tommy would be 18? and then later in 1926 when Grace had been shot and all [end of season 3 - beginning season 4] I'm not sure and my math sucks please correct me but I think Tommy was born in 1890 or something I could be seriously wrong though.

— warnings: mentions of extra marrital relationship, trigger warnings, unplanned pregnancy , a lot of angst (Please do not read if you're not comfortable, thank you.)

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost or claim my work as yours.

[My Masterlist]

You were only seventeen when your parents succumbed to bankruptcy and disease, leaving you an orphan, an only child; but not without ensuring that you were married off to a young man. You weren't in love with him, or with anyone else, and thus, it was easy for you to accept.

With the war not yet begun, you and your husband moved to Birmingham City, hoping to find yourself a place to live at half the rent as compared to London.

And it was during that time, when you met Tommy Shelby, a young lad who lived four houses away from yours.

It was innocent at first, just a glance through the window, or a mindless bump against each other on the road which then developed into greetings and then smiles until finally, one day, when you found yourself sat by the docks late one evening, shielded by unwanted, prying eyes with Tommy Shelby next to you, talking about life in general.

You opened up, telling him about how you were never lucky enough to find someone to love, and to marry for love. Although you had utmost respect for your husband, you couldn't bring yourself to love him, yet. But it wasn't all sad talks.

Sometime, in between the morose and sad revelations, a lighter topic broke out, and they two of you began talking of your favourite pass times, your hobbies and the most embarassing moments of your life.

"Don't you have to go back home, [Y/N]? Isn't someone bloody waiting back home?" Tommy raised an eyebrow, his eyes glistening with amusement and you snorted, pressing your index finger into his chest playfully as you pushed yourself up.

"So, Tommy, what are we friends now?" You remembered smirking, the corners of your plump lips curving into a devilish grin as you stood up, wiping the back of your skirt with your palm.

"Do you want us to be?" He smirked back, and reached forward trying to grab the hem of your skirt, but you dodged, biting your lip as you shook your head, running your hand through your hair.

"Friends don't grab a lady's skirt, Mr. Shelby," you curled your lips teasingly, and taking Tommy by surprise, your fingers slid through his matted hair ruffling them up, before you darted off, the sound of your running the only voice audible to Tommy as he kept sitting by the docks, grinning.

That was only the beginning; and the flirt only rose after that, it didn't die down, no matter how much you knew it was wrong. You couldn't help yourself be attracted to him.

"[Y/N], are you going out, eh?"

You stopped, mid steps, your coat halfway through your arms as you slowly turned around and gave your husband a nervous smile.

"We're out of bread, and tomatoes, and eggs. I thought I'd stock up for two days." You looked at him, glancing at him through your fluttering eyelids, and he simply nodded, pulling a lit cigarette up to his lips, "Don't be gone long, love. It's going to get dark outside."

You grabbed your purse, and fixing your hair with your hands, you pulled open the front door and ran out of your home. You looked left, and right before you crossed the road to the other side and slid through a cramped alley, ducking underneath the clothes that were hanging to dry off from ropes.

Finally, Tommy was in sight.

His hair were disheveled, and his shirt had dust stains on it but you didn't mind; he was perfect in your eyes. You smiled, parting your lips, your tongue sliding out of your mouth as you moistened your lower lip. Your walking turned to running, and the next second, you were standing chest to chest with him, his hand fixed on the low of your back, holding you against him.

"You—"

"Don't, Tommy. Don't make me change my bloody mind," you whispered immediately, cutting him off.

His palm came to rest on your cheek, his thumb stroking against your supple flesh, his blues fixed on yours. You could see the ocean in your eyes, and although you were guilty in that moment for willingly be ready to give yourself to this boy, your guilt was far less than the feelings your heart held for him.

"This one time, Tommy—" you whispered, placing your palm against the fabric of his dusty shirt and balling it into your fist, pulling him closer, you blinked, giving him a nod.

It all flew by in a buzz then. One moment, the two of you were laughing like little kids, chasing after a butterfly, your hand entwined in his, as the two of you ran through the alleys one after the other. Tommy pulled you into one of the structures, made out of bright red brick walls, until he shut the door and pressed you against it, both his hands gripping your neck, his lips pressed to you.

Kisses, moans and gasps. Feelings, passion and unshed tears.

"Can you leave him for me?" Tommy whispered against your ear as he undressed you slowly, his fingers sliding over your bare velvet like skin, making heat and current radiate all through you.

Amongst moans and archs of of pleasure, the crowning and the curling of your toes and Tommy showed you the stars, as he filled you up completely, you moving in sync with him, like dancing to a slow song, you couldn't help but wish.. that maybe you had met him a few months back.

"You know I can't. It's too late now.." Would things have been different then? Would he have married you and then left for war?

"I know love, I know. I'm sorry I didn't find you before." He moaned into your ear, his fingers tracing your spine.

"Tommy.." You threw your head back, your fingers tightly clutching the sweaty boy's head in front of you, as you felt him teasingly bite you on the nape of your neck, all the while, his movements now becoming sloppier inside of you, and the two of you came, and collapsed in each other's arms.

The two of you remained entwined in each other, holding on to each other like either of you would slip into the sands of time. Finally, Tommy's hold on you relaxed, and he brought his fingers to your face, stroking through your sweaty hair, that were sticking to your face.

"This is goodbye then, love?"

You looked up at him, your eyes shriveled with unshed tears, and inexplicable emotions as you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, "I will still see you, only the world will never know. Maybe someday.."

Tommy was true to his words, and he never let anyone find out, about that one slip of the moment the two of you had shared, that had led to the creation of the light of your life.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks flew by, turning into months and Tommy watched you from afar as you walked down the street with a friend of yours whose name was Greta. Your head hung low, your stomach bloomed and swollen, the glow on your face bright enough to compete with the brightness of the sun. He was happy for you. You deserved to be happy, and he was okay, even if it wasn't with him.

Upon seeing you with a smile on your radiant face as you entered the bakery, Tommy could not control himself, something that he had been doing for months now at the sight of you. He pushed open the bakery door, with a tiny jingle of the bell, and that caused you to turn towards the door, your eyes immediately widening at the sight of him.

He kept his eyes fixed on you for a second before he looked away, and fixed himself on the counter right next to you, as he began looking around, looking for anything he could buy and not be suspected.

You pulled the coins out of your purse and handed them to the bakery owner, and with one glance at him, nodding in courtesy, you turned away, hurriedly walking out of it. Your steps were fast, as fast a six months pregnant young lady could walk and thus, it was easy for Tommy to catch up to you.

"Greta," you looked at your friend, your eyes widened, and the girl next to you smiled.

"Go," she whispered and looked around, just to see if there were any prying eyes that were looking at the two of you.

You slowly stepped into the alley, and Tommy followed until he had you in a corner, and his eyes fell to your stomach. You parted your lips but all that came out was thin air.

"I'm sorry, love. I couldn't bloody keep myself away from you. You look beautiful."

You gave him a tiny, lingering smile, fluttering your lashes as you looked down at your belly and then back at him, "Liar. I feel humongous."

"You're a sight for my sore eyes, love," his words were breaking you down, piece by piece. The wall that you had created, the thin wall of what was right and what was wrong was slowly crumbling down again. Your lips ached, your body ached, for his touch, once again. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Finally, you opened your eyes again, and with a finality, you said, "Find yourself a nice girl, Tom. I want you to be happy."

A woman he did find. As time flew by, Tommy did find love again in your best friend, Greta Jurossi, and you were happy for them. You lay in your bed, your sheets coiled over you, covering up your modesty as the midwife examined you. Waves of pain flushed through you, causing you to ball the fabric of the bedding and the towels and let out cries of anguish. Your husband was downstairs, walking up and down; his shoulders tense, listening to your cries of pain.

After fourteen hours, you finally held your little black haired girl to your chest. Your heart filled with unconditional love; as you kissed the mass of her hair, you realised you couldn't love anyone else like you loved this girl.

Tommy held Greta's hand as the two of them entered their spot under the bridge. He pushed her to the wall, keeping a hand at the back of her head so she didn't hit it against the wall as he kissed her and finally made love to her.

"Why do you look like you've seen a bloody ghost, love?" Tommy's eyebrows perked up, as he pulled out a cigarette and flicked it to his lips, lighting it with a match.

"Not a ghost, Tommy, it's just that Marigold keeps us up all night long, she is such a fussy babe," Greta sighed, smiling softly when the image of your baby girl flashed infront of her eyes. She was in love with that little angel, but she knew she was Tommy's, you had told her this as you were her bestfriend. She looked down at her hands momentarily before looking up at Tommy, pursing her lips. She knew this man, and you, better than anyone in the world and she could read your faces like a book.

"Sometimes, I wonder," she hopped off the place she was seated at, pulling her skirts properly at place before she bent down as pulled up her stockings. Tommy took a drag of the cigarette and flicked it away, stepping on it, "What would have been if she would have left him."

"She made her decision, Greta, and I respect it," Tommy called out and she flinched, slowly turning towards him, chewing on the insides of her cheeks.

"Still, it's tragic, isn't it? Watching her everyday and knowing she can never be yours?" She whispered.

"I've made my peace with it." Tommy grumbled, under his breath, shaking his head as he threw his hand towards her and she accepted, entwining their fingers together as he pulled her into him.

"She made me swear something, but I can't keep it inside me anymore. This secret.. I feel like you deserve to know. Will you keep it?" Greta suddenly stopped walking and turned towards him, placing her hand delicately over his chest, and giving it a soft stroke.

"What is it, love?" He asked, his voice husky, and low. He kept his eyes fixed on her, like fireflies drawn to a source of light, that light being the impassivity of her words.

"Marigold is yours, Tommy. She's your daughter. She's got your eyes, and that sweet little smile."

Tommy parted his lips, as if wanting to say something, just anything but he felt like someone had choked him. He couldn't speak. No words flew out of his plump, trembling lips. Waves of anxiety suddenly flushed through him, and he clenched his fists, drawing his hands away from her as a gnawing emptiness filled him up.

Nothing felt worse than the bitter, aching slice his heart felt; as though someone had shot him through his heart, and the bullet was now lodged through. Yet he couldn't bring himself to hate you, although you had never told him, not once in these nine or so months that the baby you were carrying was his.

He laid back down, his head resting against the hard pillow. His mind was intoxicated, his thinking fuzzy yet he couldn't throw out the anguish he was feeling, no matter how hard he tried. The girl he had grown to love, the girl who had pulled him out of the feelings he had for you, the girl who had breathed life into his cold heart once again, the girl he wanted to marry, destiny snatched her away from him like a joke. Was he cursed to not be with the one his heart desired the most?

With a heavy heart, and a tormented soul, Thomas Shelby and his brothers left for war.

The war lasted for years, and so did Tommy, and every single time he felt like death was lurking close by, it never really touched him. When war was over, Tommy Shelby returned a different man, a man with a hollow heart, mind tormented completely differently now. He could hear the shovels in his mind, the clawing of metal against metal. He returned from war, and so did your husband and as the years passed, Tommy watched his daughter grow up, from a young little petal into a full blooming flower, and he never said a word. It was like a silent promise made to you, to protect your honour, something he had sworn with his life.

As the years passed, the hollow void left by you and by Greta slowly died down, and Tommy found himself a woman called Grace. She was enchanting, and she made Tommy feel whole again, complete again, although the shovels never stopped, no matter how hard he tried. Yet, Tommy didn't stop silently watching over the little girl that lived across the street, Marigold.

"Tommy, love?" Grace asked him one day, as she rolled over in bed, the sheets wrapped around her tiny frame and she laid her hand on his rising and falling chest, her fingers tenderly stroking his flesh, "Does that girl mean something to you? I've seen you look at her when she steps out with her mother out on the street, your face lights up."

Tommy didn't reply and instead buried his face into her side, letting himself get lost in her sweet fragrance, soaking him up. When he didn't answer, Grace didn't ask again, but the question remained at the back of her mind, until the day she left Tommy and went to London, breaking his heart all over again.

Just three months later, Tommy found himself standing at the back, his head hung low, staring at the wet soiled ground as your husband's coffin was lowered to the ground. You sniffled, your palm pressed to your lips, as you pulled Marigold closer to you, letting the thirteen year old child grieve, and cry her heart out as her father was lowered to the ground.

As the guests started dispersing, the two of you kept sitting in the front, on chairs that had been put out for you by someone kind. Tommy slowly walked up to you, hesitant and reluctant. Marigold was the first one to look up and Tommy felt his heart swell at the sight of her. It was like he was staring at himself, the same ocean like eyes, her hair just the same amount of dark like Tommy's were, the nose was, however, you and so were the lips. This was the first time Tommy felt he had seen her this close, and the more he saw her, the more he felt how she was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes across.

You looked up then, and a faint, weak smile crossed your lips,"You came, Tommy? I never thought.."

"If you need anything, I'll always be here for you," that was the only words he could bring himself to say to you for he had by now, suffered so much, he had leaned to lock the young boy that had fallen in love with you, away in a corner. You watched, your eyes cloudy, as he left the cemetery, and you weeks later, left Birmingham, never to look back again.

1926,

The warm liquid rushed down the canal in Tommy's throat. His sleeves were rolled up, his hair messy and tumultuous, dark bags already forming under his eyes as he has been working mostly through the nights. Garrison was as usual, crowded but the Shelby room provided him with the solitude and the peace that he didn't find anywhere else.

It was just then when a knock resonated from the door and his head snapped upwards as Curly poked his head through.

"What's gone wrong now, Curly?" He said, dryly.

"Tommy, a young girl who goes by the name Marigold says she has some unfinished business with you?" He knew instantly who she was. He hesitated for a bit, his fists clenching slightly before he nodded, "Let her in and close the door, Curly."

Marigold bit her lip, yes she had a purpose to be here and yes, she had thought she had motivated herself enough to finally do this, yet one look at the man seated in front of her made her insides churn with nervousness. This was much difficult as it appeared to be.

"Take a seat, Miss.." Tommy pointed towards the empty couch in front of him and she nodded, absentmindedly sitting down with her hands now resting against her lap, "Marigold [Y/L/N]."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, regarding her through his cold, ocean like eyes, "You don't go by your father's name?"

Marigold didn't reply; instead she gave him a knowing smile and Tommy leaned forward, letting his elbows rest against the table, his hand absentmindedly grabbing his glass of whiskey, "Curly said you had some, eh, unfinished business?"

She nodded, her fingers toying nervously with other.

"Care to walk me home, Mr. Shelby? We can talk while we walk."

"Alright then," Tommy nodded as he stood up downing the drink in one go and began reaching for his coat, "I'll walk you home then," Tommy's eyes flickered as he waited for Marigold to walk out first, and once she did, he closed the door behind her and walked out of the Garrison.

Tommy couldn't describe the feeling; although there were no words, there was a warmth. Right next to him, his little girl, now not so little anymore, walked. Slowly, he craned his neck towards her as he pulled out a smoke and flung it to his lips, "How is your mother?"

"Growing old, that's her words, not mine."

Tommy smiled, looking up at the sky, his eyes fixing on the moon for a split second before he looked at her again, "I'm sure she is just exaggerating, yeah."

"Mr. Shelby, it mind sound like I am poking my bloody nose into your business, but I think I deserve to know. There was something between my mother and you once, wasn't there?" She suddenly asked, as blunt as a knife. She had the same fire burning in her eyes, like that in her real father's.

Tommy faltered upon hearing her words though, for he hadn't expected her to ask him this. He paused for a minute, looking at her with a perplexity, he wasn't sure how to answer her. She waited for a second and finally, reached out, grabbing the lit cigarette from his hand and flung it to her lips, taking a drag of it.

"Why would you think that ey?" Tommy blew out.

"Come on, Mr. Shelby, I'm not a little girl any more. I remember you at my father's funeral, the way you looked at my mother, even my dad didn't look at her that way. Come with me," Marigold suddenly grabbed Tommy's hand rather inappropriately if anyone was looking at the interaction and she began walking in a fast pace towards the building now right in front of her eyes.

"Hey, will you bloody slow down?" Tommy tried, but she was headstrong, and the grip of her on Tommy's hand was strong, although Tommy could pullout his hand in one jerk, yet he didn't. This felt personal and it somehow, warmed his heart.

Marigold finally came to pause, her hand letting Tommy's wrist go as her hand flung to her chest, and she began gasping like a fish for air, looking at Tommy.

"Now are you going to answer me? My mum's asleep upstairs by the way." The girl bit her lip, looking from Tommy, pointing her finger upwards, and Tommy realized that she had brought him to her house.

"Did your.. mother.. ever remarry?"

Tommy finally muttered, in a low voice although he had no bloody idea of whether he was ready to hear the answer or not.

"No, she didn't, Mr. Shelby." Tommy felt he could breathe again.

"Is that the unfinished business you wanted to talk about? Because its late and I don't want your mother worrying about you, Marigold," Tommy's eyes remained stoic, not a sign of emotion reflecting in his ice like radiant face. "Goodnight then," He turned away, letting his hands slide into the pockets of his coat when she called out from behind him, making him freeze on spot.

"I know you're my father, Mr. Shelby. That makes me Marigold Shelby, doesn't it?"

Tommy turned around, slow as a snail, and fixated his eyes on her. She had half the door open and she was leaning against it, her chin resting against the back of her hand with which she was holding the door and smiling.

"What did you say?" Tommy almost choked out, surprised.

"Aunt Greta left me some letters, for when I would turn eighteen. She left you some too, if you want?" She slid her hand into the pocket of her trench coat and pulled out a letter that still had a seal on it. Slowly, she extended her hand and Tommy looked from her to the letter, his hand trembling as he took it. It had Greta's signature on it. He blinked, an inner turmoil forming inside of him. Finally, he gave up, and handed the letter back to her.

"Won't you read it?" She asked, confused.

Tommy sighed, "It's better for the dead to stay dead."

"Christ, Marigold, what's gotten into you?" You frowned and watched your eighteen your old act like a five year old, her arms crossed against her chest, as she blinked, impatiently, "Mum, can you hurry up and get dressed? We are going to miss the 7 o'clock show."

"Alright, alright. I'm getting ready. Don't make a fuss, love."

Now, an hour later, you were stack in an almost empty movie hall, watching the black and white movie that Marigold was so interested in watching. And next to you on the right hand side was the man you had least expected to be there, Thomas Shelby.

"She planned this all, didn't she?" You whispered, leaning towards him. It was only days back Marigold had told you everything, especially about Greta's letters and you had been shocked. Now here he was, days after the revelation, and it couldn't have been a coincidence.

"You know I can't bloody say no to her. If it were up to you, I would have never known she was mine." Tommy whispered back, and you stiffened.

"Greta played a nice game," you drawled, absentmindedly turning towards Tommy, who was looking at you with a look of amusement in his eyes.

"What?"

"You're still beautiful. And look sixteen."

You flushed, your cheeks turning a scarlet red, and you were thankful you were in a dimly lit movie hall, and he couldn't really see. If amazed you, how almost nineteen years after you had ended things with Tommy Shelby, he still gave you butterflies, like you were eighteen again,"Jesus, Tommy stop. You're not eighteen anymore, and neither am I."

"Jesus, mum, dad, can the two of you please stop? I'm trying to watch something." The eighteen year old protested, but unbeknownst to the two of you, she had an amused, content smile playing against her lips, as she forced herself to look away.

You glanced at Tommy, and without uttering another word, you slowly sunk into him, letting your head rest against his shoulder, and your hand snuck into his, your fingers entwining with his.

If the two of you were eighteen and seventeen again, who would have thought that it would take losing Greta, and losing your husband to finally end up in Tommy's arms nineteen years later?

What made you smile, however was the fact that he was still the same; he still smelled the same like he did before the same lingering smell of burnt cigarettes and alcohol, mixed with a strong scent of musk; his hands were the same amount of calloused and warm, and your hands still fit perfectly into his. You were sure his lips would too, but maybe that was a thing for another time. You wanted to enjoy this night, watching the film, as a family of three.

Permanent Tommy Shelby Taglist:

@really-dont-forget-it @thepeakygurl @baumarvel @captivatedbycillianmurphy @nyotamalfoy @peakyfooky @buckyxreader99 @theflamecrystal @milea

Want to be added? Please ask, message or comment.✨

[denays-xo]

Trying To Get Back Together | Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Pairing: Tsukishima x Reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1.04k

Warnings: swearing, angst, toxic behavior, toxic relationship, slight spoiler, verbal argument, no happy ending, ooc tsukishima

Author's note: This is the last update for Tsukishima's story in TTGBT (series? ;3). I plan on posting other stuff too like head canons, one-shots and maybe SMAUs. So stay tuned! I'd like to mention @chelly-ilysmiwdfy! Thank you for liking my previous update. Keep being your cool self!

I'd really appreciate it if you like and reblog. Please do not repost without proper credits 'cause I worked really hard on this :(. Thank you and enjoy!

Summary: Y/N has been living peacefully (or at least tried to) after graduating college and having the opportunity to work their dream job. Strongly getting by everyday and extremely determined to overcome the obstacles that will come their way. When they least expected it, a tragedy came, they were invited to their highschool reunion and there they reconciled with Tsukishima Kei, their highschool ex-boyfriend.

TTGBT: Tsukishima Kei

Part 1: The Meeting

Part 2: The Backstory

Part 3: The Ending

"What did you do with the apartment?" He asked as he continued to stare at the view in front of you two. Your hands still grabbing on to the railing like it's your lifeline.

"I sold it. A friend lives there now." You left the apartment the night you broke up. But the last message he sent you was him insisting that you keep it.

"I see. I guess you wouldn't want to stay there."

"Yeah." Tsukishima's heart shatters upon hearing your answer. 

"We could get another one." He smiled awkwardly. 

"Huh?"

You felt his hand grab yours and place it on his chest. Your mind went blank and all you could feel was the fast beating of his heart. 

"Be mine again, Y/N. Please."

It is as if someone has poured a bucket of ice cold water over your head. You stood there, frozen and staring, just trying to process what he said. 

"I—what? What is this?" Your mind was blank and you were only able to let out a few words. 

"I want you to be mine again." 

"I—no." The fear on his face was too much. "I—should—I'll get going, Tsukishima-kun." 

"No. No, Y/N, please hear me out." He held both your hands this time, no plans on letting you go. The both of you stood there for a couple of seconds just staring at each other, trying to find the right words to say. You were at least slightly prepared to see him at this party, but you weren't prepared for this. 

"Tsukishima-kun, I don't think this is a good idea. Please let go of me." 

"Y/N, be mine again." His loud sobs filled the balcony. You look around and surprised that no one has attempted to go outside yet. "Please, Y/N. I'm still so fucking in love with you, I just can't let you go." 

He looked desperate, completely different from the Tsukishima that was cool-headed and sarcastic before. 

"I—I don't want to anymore. Please let go of me." Your eyes started to tear up and you couldn't figure out why your chest was tightening so much. 

"I promise to… to give you everything you want. I'll make you happier this time around. I promise I won't lash out on you anymore. I—please just be with me." He looked at you with expectant eyes.

"It wasn't because you're mad, Tsukishima-kun. It was because," you hiccup unconsciously because somehow you were crying too. "because you kept running away. I don't think you still get me after all these years." 

The tears continually streaming down his face, what a tragic sight. Your heart ached for the man you once loved.

"We still have a chance right?" His voice was shaky, almost a mumble, he was struggling and you could tell. 

"We already had our chance and we blew it. You know we blew it. Let's just go on with our lives, please." 

He went down on his knees and held my hand even tighter. 

"No, no, I'm not ready to let go of you yet. I don't want to lose you. I want you back, come back to me, please. Sleep next to me again, I miss your warmth whenever you hug me. I miss your cooking. I miss how you play with my hair. I miss our bickering. Everything, I miss you so damn much. I think you're the only girl I'll be able to love. I-I know I was stupid, but I can change right? Y-you'll come back if I change right?" 

"Please stand up, Kei. Don't kneel, please." You looked up to the sky partly avoiding the sight that's in front of you right now and partly trying to calm yourself. "Why are you doing this? You were the rational one, right? You were the one who's good at handling hard situations. Why have you become like this?" When you finally look down, you see him crying on his forearms still holding onto your hand.  

"I just—I desperately want you back and… and I promise not to hurt you anymore."

"I promised myself I won't hurt like that anymore too. I'm finally starting to value myself and I refuse to be treated that way again." You took a deep breath and proceeded to let your heart out. "What you did really hurt me, Kei."

He lifted his tear-stained face, once again he was listening to you intently. 

"I was alone at the most important and vulnerable times of our relationship. I know, you were the same. I knew and I understood that. You're going through the same pain as me. You were alone too. But I tried, Kei. I tried to fight for it, didn't I? I sought for you, I reached out. But I don't think you were willing to fight for us too. How could I fight for something as important as our relationship alone? How could I continue to fight when you weren't even willing to fight with me." 

The both of you quietly stared at each other for god knows how long. You knew he understood. You removed your hands from his grip and wiped the tears on his face. You lowered yourself leveling with him and kissed him on the forehead. 

"The next person you love," both of your tears fell in sync "love them with all your heart. Don't be afraid to be vulnerable when you're with them. I know you like to act cool thinking that people will like that more. But nothing makes a person fall harder in love when you are honest and open about your feelings towards them. Love again, Kei. And—and love them better." 

Tsukishima looked up to you with all the hope gone in his eyes. He knew there was no getting back now. He knew he hurt you so much but you were still kind to him. He knew his heart would never fully heal. He knew he would regret losing you for the rest of his life. He knew you will never be his again. He knew but he never spoke. Then, you did.

"Let's not meet each other again."

You stood straight and headed towards the door immediately. You didn't think you could take it if anything more happened. The last thing you heard was his scream as he cried loudly again. 

You left anyway. 

TTGBT: Tsukishima Kei

Part 1: The Meeting

Part 2: The Backstory

Part 3: The Ending