#if you take a second to think about it it‘s so fucking terrifying

[streatfeild]

ah shit it‘s monday again. here come the nazis marching

[bfiaflbox]

This is how it starts - Chapter 3

Pairing: Matty x Original Female Character Warnings: swearing

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

The next day I have a client who's not very talkative so I have time to weigh my options during work. I could text Matty and just tell him the date is off. Or I could go on the date and feel weird the whole time. Or I could just ignore it? Or I could fake my death and leave the country and tell Carly to give him my best and to enjoy life with his girlfriend. Great, I love overthinking. After a few hours of trying to figure out where and how I got the wrong Idea about Matty and about the flirting and about the date that's definitely a date because he called it that multiple times, I decide to text Matty.

Me: Hey Matty, I had a lovely time getting to know you but I don‘t think it‘s a good idea to go forward with this date on Friday. I wish you all the best.

There. That's good. Simple, unmistakably clear. I feel sad though. I liked Matty. He was refreshingly not boring and great to hang out with and nice to look at.

I go to the chat with Carly

Me: Did you know he had a girlfriend?

Carly: who? Matty? He‘s single as far as I know.

Me: No, apparently he isn't.

Carly: That‘s weird. Adam didn’t say anything. How did you find out?

Me: He was at my place and she called him, he ended the call telling her he loved her and then quickly left. Almost like he had a bad conscience.

Carly: That‘s weird.

I put my phone in my pocket and clean up the shop. I check the appointments for the next day, see that I still have to finish the drawing for my client tomorrow and get out my iPad to see the state of the rough sketch I made when they first made the appointment. I draw for a few hours, totally focussed on the task at hand. It's already dark outside when I'm happy with the design.

I get out my phone to check the time and see that Matty texted back.

Matty: honestly, that bums me out. What happened to change your mind?

Is he playing dumb? But fine, if he wants me to spell it out to him...

Me: I don’t want to be the girl you cheat on your girlfriend with.

He answers in a matter of seconds.

Matty: What girlfriend? Matty: Did you read something in the tabloids? It‘s all made up, you know?

Me: No?! I mean the girl that called you the other night? Danielle? Denise? Whatever! You told her you loved her??

Matty: Hannah

Matty: Darling

Fuck him, calling me darling right now!

Matty: That was literally my mother.

Oh. Oh.

Well now I'm completely mortified. The idea of faking my death and leaving the country seems more and more appealing.

Matty: But just to be completely clear I don't have a girlfriend. The last one broke up with me a few months ago, thanks for the reminder.

Me: Sorry to hear that.

Matty: No you're not :D

Me: The date on Friday is still off though, the floor just opened and will swallow me now. byeeeeee

Matty: I'll be at your place at seven

///

Friday rolls around and I'm nervous. I'm always nervous before a date because the whole spiel of do they like me and do I like them and are they a serial killer or a trustworthy person is terrifying and nerve wracking. But the Idea of a date with Matty is taking nerve wracking to a whole new level, especially after what went down the other day. I'm obsessing over my outfit and if it was the right choice and am just considering if I have time to change again when my doorbell rings. Ok, no 5th outfit change then. I grab my coat, check for my keys and leave my apartment. Matty is waiting in front of my building, big smile on his face.

"Hi! You look lovely" he greets me. "And other generic things to say when picking up your date" I jokingly snark and raise an eyebrow. Fucking hell where did that come from, he was just being nice! "Will you take the fucking compliment? Jesus" he laughs. "Fine, yeah, sorry, that was harsh. Thanks. You look lovely as well!" "I know" he retorts. "Talk about being able to take a compliment" I snort. "By the way, where are we going?" "Well I thought... ok tell me if you think this is lame but there's this small museum that shows an exhibition on 80s industrial punk zines and also some graphic design and photos from that era and I thought it'd be cool but like I said if you think this is lame we can totally do something else but I kinda wanna se it, I'm really interested in that kind of shit but haven't had the time to go there, no hard feelings if you don't wanna see it, I was just..." "Matty!" I interrupt his ramblings. He looks at me with raised eyebrows, I continue "that sounds quite very interesting, let's go there".

After about 15 minutes of walking we enter the courtyard of what looks like a former industrial building. We cross the courtyard to the entrance of the small museum. The exhibition is really just one room. The walls are filled with black and white photographs, pages from said zines and posters advertising gigs from 35 years ago of bands called Einstürzende Neubauten, Killing Joke and Skinny Puppy. Except for the former, none of the bands ring a bell but to be fair, 80s industrial rock isn't what I hear when I want to sing in the shower. I enjoy the aesthetic of it all, though. I also enjoy watching Matty who looks like a child seeing a Christmas tree for the first time. "Wow, you see, this is totally interesting, the scene back then was so DIY, really down to earth. They literally created all that stuff themselves." he muses. "There’s not many generative alternative scenes left, nowadays." He goes on to talk about bands like Slowdive and what he calls garage pop stuff. I just observe him. I'm not gonna lie, I haven't heard many of the bands he's mentioning but he's in his element and I love how passionate he is. After a while he looks at me and kind of stops himself. "Sorry, I... I'm really enjoying this, I'm probably rambling, it's just all so cool!" but it's so endearing. He's not afraid to like things. Unironically. "We should get going though, I reserved a table for us".

///

Half an hour later we sit down in a rather fancy looking restaurant and a waiter hands us a menu. "So...", Matty starts "how many kids do you want to have?" "Oh sod off, you!", we both laugh. "Haha, sorry, couldn't help it." I look around and start to feel kind of out of place. The people here are posh, there's no other word for it. I can't help but notice that I stick out like a sore thump with the tattoos all over my body and the kind of minimalist casual attire I had chosen for tonight. It's not a good feeling. I try to distract myself with the menu but metaphorically gulp when I see the prices, way out of my league. I get nervous, look over to Matty who's looking relaxed as ever. Right, right, I almost forgot he's a rockstar. Also out of my league. I refuse to let the uneasy feeling that's starting take over. Be who you are, face it head on, talk about it. I put the menu down and fold my fingers over it.

"Ok, I'm just gonna say it like it is: All I can afford here is a glass of water and a side salat without going hungry for the rest of the month. Yep, that's embarrassing but it is what it is, I'm a barely not-starving artist, not a rockstar, I already got my sister in law that awfully fancy pan and there's still the cozzie livs. Soooo, we might have to stop by a chip shop later. Or, I don't know, you have to pay" I say the last part before thinking better of it. Great. Talk about money, that's always such a good topic, not at all laced with all kinds of prejudice and negativity.

"Hm. That's a bummer, I thought you were paying", Matty hasn't even looked up from the menu.

I look at him with a raised eyebrow. He puts the menus down and places one hand over mine. "Darling, this is a date date, you're not paying for shit. Relax, it's ok. I'm not one of the guys who thinks a woman owes them sex when they pay for dinner. Also, I think, Carly would slap me if she found out I made you pay"

I laugh at that and relax a little. "I don't even know what half the words on here mean" I admit in a sort of whiny tone. "Is it rude if I google? Like, what's vadouvan spice? or Acquerello risotto?" at that, Matty just laughs. "I've got no fucking clue, to be honest. Ok I'll order us something and the next time we go to a restaurant that's less..." he waves around "...this?" "The next time, huh? Someone's feeling confident" "Yeah, I have to downplay how embarrassed I am about the fact that my choice of restaurant makes you uncomfortable by appearing overly confident, don't mind me." "God, you're such a self-aware millennial" We both laugh before I continue "Speaking of embarrassed: who the fuck has their mother saved under her first name?" "It's her name, what else would you like me to call her?" he sounds mockingly defensive. "I don't know? Mum lesser three?" "Lesser three?" "Yeah the little..." I wave my fingers, trying to convey the < 3 symbols "...heart thingy" "That's so gay" he laughs.

The waiter comes back and we order some fancy sounding dishes. "So, Matty, I have a question" "Ask away" "Would you rather kill a chicken with your bare hands or live with the chicken for a year" "Does the chicken have to come on tour with me?" "It sure does" "Yeah, then I'm gonna kill the chicken, I'm not dealing with a chicken on a tourbus" he laughs. "Ok fair, I don't blame you" He suddenly stills and his face sours, his gaze is fixed on a point behind me. I study his expression for a second and try to figure it out but come up with nothing. I want to see what seems to have turned his mood but as soon as I try to turn my head, Matty grabs my hand and clears his throat and wants to focus my attention back on him.

„What is it?“

„Nothing“

„You’re a shit liar“ I laugh.

„I don’t lie“ he says seriously.

„Like… ever?“

„Yeah. Ever since I got clean I try to not lie. Lying was the worst part about being an addict“

„Ok, wait, we just brushed three subjects in five seconds, I‘m getting whiplash.“ how did this conversation take this turn all of a sudden?

„Sorry, I‘m a lot“ he sounds sad now.

„No, Matty. It‘s fine“, I try to lighten the mood with my tone. „just… what’s going on?“

„Wait here, ok?“ he gets up and vanishes in the direction of the bar.

Well that leaves me baffled. I’m not annoyed or sad, just surprised. I play the conversation back in my head and try to figure out what nerve I hit that made his mood change that abruptly. I start to feel small and weird. Like I definitely don't belong here.

A few minutes later, Matty comes back, stops at the table and just says "Let's leave, please?"

I look at him and see that his expression conveys a sense of urgency. I get up, grab my coat and let him guide me out of the place. On my way out I meet the eyes of a giggling woman who looks at me knowingly. I frown at her and try to make sense of it all.

Once we're out on the street, Matty starts walking without saying a word. I follow him, although I don't really know why. The vibe is off, to say the very least. We round a corner and I really don't feel comfortable anymore. I stop.

"Matty, what's going on?"

He turns around to face me, clears his throat and sighs. "There was a woman at the restaurant that took photos of us." I suspect it's the one that looked at me like she just hit a jackpot when we left. "She's probably gonna sell it to the tabloids and you're gonna be on the news tomorrow. At least it's going to be all over the internet."

I stay silent because I really don't know what to say now. Is this what it's like for him when he goes out in public?

"I'm sorry, Hannah, I can't do this to you"

"You're not doing anything"

"I am though. Like, when you're around me you're gonna end up in the crossfire of hateful comments because, you see, I'm a really bad person according to the internet. I fucked up, said the wrong thing, laughed at the wrong time and they hold everything against me, call me a Nazi or worse things. And everybody who's around me is guilty by association. I don't care anymore but I can't do this to you." he looks sad, almost like he's close to tears. I don't know what to say that might make things better. He must feel lonely. I want to tell him that I don't care, that I like him for who he is and that I will deal with it if that's what it takes but before I can open my mouth to say anything he just says "I'm sorry", turns around and walks away.

I just stand there and try to process what just happened. It doesn't take long for me to get angry at Matty. Fuck him for leaving me here, standing in the street like an idiot. He didn't even give me a chance to process this. What does he mean it's going to be all over the internet? A feeling of helplessness creeps up at me. I hate feeling this way. My heart hurts and I start feeling very sad. I can't process all of this right now and decide to just turn around and head home.

[celinchen-uwu]

The Darkling x Reader

Summary: The Darkling saves you at the last moment from a Volcra. Somehow he looks familiar.

A/N: Hey my fellas, i thought i write a little The Darkling x Reader story. This oneshot has nothing to do with the show or the books, just a little scenario. It’s my first one so your feedback would be nice :3

You can give me requests if you want..anyways enjoy~

In the last seconds you can duck from the razor sharp claws of the monster, which is attacking you from above.

How did you get in this situation?, you think to yourself. Actually it should have been a cozy evening, but now you're running for your life, in this eternal sea of shadows. Disoriented and clueless what‘s happening. The only thing you know is, if you’re stop running, you‘ll die.

~It was a pleasant spring day. The sun shone down warm on your face. You were walking home from work, ready for a nice and cozy Netflix and chill evening with your best friend, as it suddenly started raining heavily.

Quickly you searched for a shelter, to protect you from your the rain. After a few minutes it rained even heavier. You texted your friend, that you‘d be arriving much later than you expected, because of the rain.

When after 10 minutes there was still no improvement to be hoped for, you moved on. Your (h/l) (h/c) hair was stuck to your face when you saw a puddle that showed a strange darkness. A burning curiosity overwhelmed you and you walked spellbound to the puddle.

-Indeed. How can it be that this puddle shows a seemingly different world than it‘s physically possible? - you thought to yourself. As if in a trance, you crouched down. Your hand was magically attracted and when you touched the puddle, you fell into the gloomy darkness.

You screamed until your lungs hurted. -Is this my end? Am i going to die like this? It can‘t be, it‘s impossible, i have to be dreaming. Did i have an accident? Am i lying in a comatose? Yes.. yes, it has to be-, In the middle of your thoughts you hit a huge thing.

You drew in your breath, distorted with pain.

-This can't be a dream, if this shit hurts so damn much-

Shocked, you looked at the object you had landed on. A gray flying monster. "Holy shit, what the hell?!" it slipped out of your mouth. In turn, it screamed at you and tried to throw you off its back.

You cling tightly onto its back, hastily rummaging in your bag for a useful item, to defend yourself. Triumphantly, you held your pen in the air and rammed it into the creature's skull with the strongest force you could muster.

Twitching and with a last dying screech, the monster crashed with you on its back. The impact was ‚softer‘ than you could have hoped for. -Wow, didn't think it would be that easy ^^-, you thought to yourself with relief, as you saw more of these monsters rushing at you.

You quickly pulled your pen out of the head of the now motionless creature and picked up your bag from the floor. With the devils themselves behind you. With one final thought you stormed off....

-Fuck!- ~

During your escape you have reviewed your ‚warm reception‘. Pumped full of adrenaline, you run breathlessly through the darkness.

Suddenly you are knocked over from behind with such a force that you fly a few meters further. Your bag is thrown away by the violent collision with one of these things.

Shakily, you pull yourself back to your feet and face the thing. Blood is running out of your newly gained laceration, down your face. It roars at you and all you can think about is getting to your pocket to defend yourself. With a big leap, you dodge the thing and frantically search for your bag. As it tries to attack you repeatedly, you can't dodge it without another wound. It has scratched your side. - Fuck, luckily it only got me superficially-.

Again you stand up to dodge. It still managed to ram you. Now you fly to the ground with a hard bang.

Terrified and unable to stand up, you scramble away from the monster. As it jumps towards you, you bump into a can. It's your pepper spray, which must have fallen out of your pocket. -Please God, oh please make it work, I beg you- is your thought as you spray the content right into the monster's eyes.

It howls and jerks away from you. As you quickly turn around, you discover your bag and a thick branch. You grab your bag and reach for the branch.

"If I have to die, then you will die with me! Did you hear me, you disgusting beast!", and with these words you throw yourself at the blind monster and hit it as hard as you can. You throw yourself at it with battle cries and you both overturn.

Suddenly, something brushes you. The monster now on the ground, motionless. Trembling and exhausted, you look to the right side. A gorgeously tall man dressed in black stands beside you. Offers you a hand. When you take it, he pulls you behind him, into the daylight.

First blended by the sudden light, you blink your eyes shut. Slowly open the eyes again, you see your savior. A handsome man with eyes so dark as the shadows. Distracted from this feeling that you kind of know him, you can’t hear him first, as he opens his mouth to say something.

Coming towards you, he kisses you without warning. Startled, you want to pull back, but the more intimate the kiss becomes, the more you get the feeling that you know him.

"(y/n) I thought you were dead. I‘ve missed you so much, darling". After these words he kissed you again and held you close to his body, as if you would disappear again if he didn't hold you tight enough.

For years now you feel complete again, the lost piece regained.

„Nothing will be able to separate us again.“

[ontheblock]

it’s my mental illness and i get to chose which character is vent through❗️❗️anyway, i have been struggling with writing the ending of the second part of my latest patrick hockstetter request and since this has been sitting in my notes for a hot minute, i decided to post it. enjoy this little story absolutely nobody asked for<3

night terrors

no warnings ig- maybe alcohol

Summer never really was plagued by night terrors the way Morty was haunted by them. Whenever she did have a bad dream as a little girl, her parents let her cry it out unless she came to their room themselves. The rare times someone did come over was when Beth was blackout drunk and Jerry followed the soft wailing of his daughter to pet her head while he listened to her sob story of a nightmare. It never helped that Jerry basically coddled baby Morty whenever he woke up - a desperate attempt to even out the neglectful way they treated her first child because they were kids themselves. But all of Jerry‘s attempts were fruitless. Summer heard Morty whine and whimper almost every night through the drywall, even more so since Rick arrived. It was ironic for her to turn out fine with her mother’s neglectful ways. Jerry should’ve maybe considered listening to Beth more with Morty. Or maybe it was meant to be like this. Poor fucker. If his nightmares didn’t take form of bullies anymore it was definitely the looming danger of acid drooling monsters or aliens smart enough to conquer their planet if a self-proclaimed god in a lab coat fucked with them. Yeah, that sounded terrifying for a child. Or maybe the thing he feared most was more simple and childish - their grandfather who took out threats like that for breakfast. But tonight wasn’t a night like that. Summer didn’t wake up from Morty hitting his bedroom wall out of reflex. It was some faceless nightmare of her own that sent her lurching upright with a struggle for air. Whatever it was, she didn’t remember much aside from Jerry‘s face and a leathery hand reaching for her out of the black abyss surrounding her but she felt the aftermath of a sprinting heart and sweat sticking her tank top to her back. Her throat was dry enough to make her reach out to her empty bedside table. She never put a glass of water by her bed, but then again she never needed it.

Swiping back a stray hair, Summer pushed her blanket off to stand up on wobbly legs. She made her way over to the door, stepping over the creaky floorboard. The hallway was quiet but as she crept down the stairs, Summer noticed the flickering lights of the TV pouring out the living room. She had half the mind to blackmail Morty about watching TV on a school night but she definitely kept the info in the back of her mind for tomorrow’s breakfast as she avoided more creaky floorboards on her way to the kitchen. The moron even turned down the volume.

"Morty, I swear to god. Your nightly water trips are getting on my- on my last nerve."

Summer blinked once, twice to place the voice. The distinct alcoholic slur and the audible frown was familiar to her even in a sleepy state. And surely, it was Rick. Shuffling closer, Summer could peek over the couch‘s back to see her grandpa lounging in his oil stained wife beater, tinkering with a cube shaped hunk of metal. Like this she could see his hands at work, talented fingers coaxing loosened screws into their threads. He hissed a low "me cago en tu madre" when the phillips head slipped from the screw he was working on. Summer could make out the blue mesh of veins under the withered skin on the back of his hand. Rick really did have the hands of a worker - a mechanic or construction worker. They looked nothing like the office worker hands of Jerry, if he had even that. He seemed to sense her presence - if that was even possible - because his head turned to look at who he assumed to be Morty.

"Summer? What the fuck are you doing here?"

What was she doing here? She came for a glass of water but her throat was less parched now and something about her mysterious grandpa reeled her in like a damn fish. She took her bait and ran her clammy palm over the couch cushion by her grandpa‘s neck. "I woke up, obviously. I had a nightmare. No big deal." Her eyes pointedly stayed on Rick‘s hand holding a screwdriver or the coffee table with half a bottle of whiskey standing next to Rick‘s feet that he casually propped up onto the wood but she never met his gaze. Why was she even this honest? She could make some kind of excuse but it’s been months since her family showed interest in what she was doing. "Nightmare, huh?" Rick echoed her as if to taste the word on the tip of his tongue. Summer wondered if he had nightmares sometimes. She nodded, eyes finally flickering to his face. The TV casted lights and shadows on his old features. Right now he looked normal, not like that crazy scientist with a mean silver tongue that intimidated her the first time they met at the breakfast table. Summer was used to see the hollow green glow following Rick like a fucked up halo or even the zapping blue rays from devices that can both end and create wars. But now the angular features showed a different side. The soft studio lights of some late night show made him look like a regular addition to the family and it helped Summer release her tense shoulders for the first time in a while, like she didn‘t need to be sarcastic or indifferent all the time. A little voice in the back of her head told her that Morty could be his awkward idiotic self so why couldn’t she?

"Why are you up, grandpa?" She leaned her front against the couch back and kept her voice down just in case Morty did wake up again. "I‘m - bergh - well over the age of bed times. This piece of shit is m-more important." Rick averted his gaze and waved the cube in his hand. Summer hummed and reached for it only to have Rick shuffle it to his other hand and hold it out of reach. "Well, what is it? Can it, like, cause mass destruction or something? Or does it contain a totally freaky virus? Or—" Rick shushed his granddaughter and tossed the cube on the coffee table. "Calm your tits, Summer. It‘s- It‘s to cure Granorian crystals. The, the, the-" Rick rotated his hand as if to underline his search for the most simple explanation "-easiest planet to harvest them happens to have the most impure growth." His hand fell into his lap, the other one snatching the whiskey from the table. "You should go to bed. It’s Tuesday." Summer snorted but it sounded off. "Since when are you the responsible grandparent?"

"I‘m not." His gaze locked on the TV again and he knocked back a sip or two of liquor. "Just thought I get one night free of my annoying grandkids." Ouch. Rick delivered both praise and insults in the same gruff tone - not that he had many kind words to spare, save for Beth when he needed to get his way. "What do you need them for? Can’t you just get, yknow, earth crystals?" Rick belched after a deep gulp from the bottle and dismissively waved his free hand in Summer‘s general direction. "Don’t think about it. Do me- just do us a solid; go back to bed, Summer." Rick expected a bit of huffing and a snarky comment before Summer relented and went back upstairs but he saw her unmoving in his peripheral vision. Summer stared down at the couch cushion‘s seam as if it told her whatever kind of questions were important to a girl her age. Probably if that one guy in school liked her or not. Her fingers rubbed over a stain that looked like red wine her mother spilled last Christmas. "I don’t want to. It’s not like I can go back to sleep anyway. Not- It‘s not because of the dream or anything. Just-" Summer stumbled over her words to find any excuse that would save her the embarrassment of admitting she was a little scared to go back to sleep again. She bit the inside of her cheek when Rick cut her off with a long groan. "You really are Jerry‘s kid. You‘re- Y-You know dreams are just- bullshit hallucinatory experiences aaaaall the way up the hippocampus? It’s not- It’s imaginary, Summer. Just your dummy ape brain processing a bunch of shit while you’re asleep." Rick‘s tone was agitated while he gesticulated but he still scooted closer to the left, ultimately creating more space on the couch. Summer didn’t know where dreams came from, she wasn’t interested in it either but she silently rounded the couch to sit down next to her grandfather. Being this close, she would smell the faint whiskey breath and the Old Spice lingering around her. It was nice for once, calming even. "You know, I‘m not staying because I’m scared because that’s totally lame." Rick just grunted in some kind of indifferent agreement but Summer felt the need to clarify her decision even more. "I mean, it’s just a dream. I‘m not a loser like Morty. I don’t piss my own bed. That‘d be totally— gross." Summer turned back to Rick, fully expecting him to not even pay her any mind but when they locked eyes Summer finally shut her mouth. She never saw a look like this one on Rick‘s face. Not even around Morty - who was quite obviously his favorite grandchild and Summer reminded herself that she didn’t care about that.

Right now Rick‘s withered features looked almost soft even though the hard lines on his face didn’t even out at all. Maybe his resting face just looked mean like that - maybe he was frowning for so long that it became the default for Rick. But still, he looked almost fatherly. Summer‘s pathetic little attempt to look tough in front of the most powerful man she knew stirred something dead in his ribcage.

He remembered a tiny Beth sneaking into their old kitchen where Rick was fixing a leak in the sink. A single glance at his wrist watch told him it was time for Beth‘s nap because if Diane didn’t make her take one Beth would be tired and grumpy all evening. He tried to shoo her back to her room but only got a tantrum out of his daughter until he reluctantly set his task aside and laid down on the living room couch with Beth resting on his chest until Diane came back with their groceries.

"Yeah, sure. What - uhrp - Whatever." Rick looked back at the TV and Summer fell into his silence, her back sinking into the soft cushions. She barely followed the plot of whatever Rick was watching. It looked like some 70s war movie with bad explosions and subpar camera quality. Rick didn’t seem to be the type for nostalgia so it probably just happened to be on at this time of night. The dull colors made her lashes feel heavy again and she let her eyes roam the coffee table Rick still used as his footrest. The cube laid by his foot, forgotten until Rick needed to purify his drugs alien crystals. The whisky bottled left a wet little spot on the wood that she knew Rick wouldn’t wipe away. Jerry wanted to replace the table for a week now. Morty‘s latest comics were scattered on the other side of the table. He always left them in the living room because the idiot just has to get distracted two pages in. An unfamiliar pack of Newport Reds Non-Menthol caught her eye and Summer took a quick glance at Rick. If he noticed, he ignored it. Rick did always have the remnants of cigarette smoke on him but Summer never seen him with one before. There was probably a lot that Summer didn‘t know about her grandpa. She wondered how much her mom really knew about him.

The movie crept close to its finale when a warm weight sank onto Rick‘s thigh. He lowered the bottle from his chapped lips to find soft ginger hair draped over his khaki pants. He went still for a moment with his granddaughter‘s head on his lap. This was territory he hadn’t wet his toes in for decades. Rick wasn’t a stranger to the warmth of another body but this was tender and innocent, enough to take him back in time. He downed the last of his whiskey in one gulp and indulged in the hot rush that followed. The credits rolled on the screen while the bottle neck dangled from his bony fingers.

"How drunk are you right now?"

Rick hummed as if he was doing the math in his head before answering. "Wasted." He put the empty bottle on the fuzzy carpet and shimmied his feet off the table without disturbing Summer in her position. Not that he would admit that.

"So in the morning this didn’t happen?"

Rick took his sweet ass time eyeing Summer and weighing out an answer before he gave a low "yeah, Sum-Sum" and looking back at whatever commercial was on. If Rick ever was good at anything it had to be pretending. He could pretend for Summer just this once too.

[just-a-creep-babe]

Kinktober Day 28

Habit: Knife Play & Spitting

Quick warning: a knife goes in the reader’s mouth and also in. the. COOCHIE in this one so be warned skdjdksksjdlslfj

Also there’s some slight dubcon & cutting, though it’s not self-harm

~Requests are closed~

Masterlist: x

Any tips are greatly appreciated!

You know you shouldn’t look at the table

He’s made it abundantly clear from the very beginning that it‘s off limits

But being confined to the small space of the house is taking its toll on you, and you‘ve become, admittedly, atrociously bored

So as you steadily make your way closer to the round table filled with his amassed collection of weapons, you savor the shiver of fear and delight at the prospect of something new, something exciting

Something that can easily land you in big trouble, but the threat of it all only adds to the thrill of the rush

Gazing over the sharp tools, one in particular catches your eye—a sturdy knife with jagged teeth at the end of a thick blade

You don’t let yourself linger on the thought of how many things people got caught on it’s sharp edge

The hilt is relatively long and thick, looking like it would fit comfortably in Habit’s hands, with an end that rounds out, and though it does have a few engravings along its ribbed spine, it’s relatively smooth and minimalistic

Elegant, yet simple

You didn’t approach with the intention of actually touching his beloved weapons

But you just can’t seem to help reaching out and taking it in your hand

The weight feels nice, comfortable even, though it is a little too large

You tilt the angle and watch as a glimmer of light bounces from the cold hard steel

“What’ve you got there, rabbit?”

The sound has your pulse missing a beat

You nearly drop the knife but manage to whirl around and hide it behind your back instead

Your grip tightens around it, muscles scared stiff

“H-habit! I, uh, I thought you were out”

He tilts his head

And with one long, even stride towards you, he’s suddenly inches from your form

You instinctively step back, but you’re forced still when your back meets the edge of he table

“I was out”

A cruel smirk plays on his lips, knowing fully well he’s caught you red handed

“But you haven’t answer my question,” he continues, “Show me what you have”

He folds his strong arms over his chest and you know you’re screwed

Reluctantly, you bring the blade up

Calloused fingers briefly brush against yours as he takes the hilt from your grasp, and it sends a hot spike of fear and adrenaline down your system

His dark gaze lingers on you for a bit, flickering briefly to your lips, or maybe you just imagine that, before landing on the weapon

He takes his time inspecting it, like he’s watching for any smear or fingerprint you might’ve left on its polished steel

“You like this knife, (y/n)?”

He doesn’t phrase it like a question

When you don’t immediately answer, his stare pierces through you, stealing the breath from your lungs

“I… uhm”

You try to think of a way to get out of this, uncertain if a yes or no is more likely to get you killed

But as he brings the jagged edge to your throat, pushing it into your skin, you grip the ledge behind you and squeak out a pathetic “yes” in response

The corners of his mouth tilt into an amused grin, though his eyes remain as dark and dangerous as ever

Relief washes over you when he finally pulls the blade from your throat

“On the couch. And don’t fucking make me say it twice”

He steps back, finally giving you room to move, and you’ve no choice but to do as he orders

His gaze burns into your back as you do

Your heart pumps wildly in your chest as he follows suit, predator following cornered prey

As you scramble on, you inadvertently try to shrink yourself back against the couch’s armrest, pulling your legs up close to your chest

He chuckles like he has you right where he wants you

And then he’s getting on as well, tugging your ankles to straighten your legs out so he can straddle them, trapping you beneath him for good

The warm weight of him has inexplicable shivers running down your back

He‘s shameless as he leans in and presses the tip of the knife to your collarbone

“You know not to touch what’s on the table, don’t you, rabbit?”

You nod, inhaling sharply as he slowly drags the blade down, not hard enough to cut deep, but just enough to leave a faint, thin scratch against your skin

“So you disobeyed on purpose?” he rumbles, head tilting in question

You swallow thickly, knowing this answer could determine what he does to you—and whether or not you’ll make it to see morning

“N-no”

A sharp cut just below your collarbone has you yelping

You can already feel the warm tingle of skin puffing up as the blood beads to the surface

“You wanna try answering that again?”

He sets the knife just below the cut, a silent promise

“Yes—yes, I-I did it on purpose”

At this response, he hums, content

He leans in unbearably close and presses the flat of his tongue to the cut, and it immediately has your entire body coming to life beneath him, much to your embarrassment

He slowly laps up the faint drips of scarlet with his tongue, the thick pad dragging up your skin, before wrapping his lips around the wound and lightly suckling at your flesh

You try to stay still beneath him, but the urge to squirm and buck your hips is nearly maddening

“That’s what I thought,” he purrs, his voice taking on that split quality, “You should know not to try to lie to me by now, little bunny~”

He brings the knife lower down, the sharp edges hitching on your clothes before the material ever so slowly begins to give way

You swallow back a gasp as the air hits your exposed skin

And then he presses the flat of the blade to your nipples, watching them rouse beneath the cold metal with a dark hunger in his eyes

He licks his lips and you really wish you could feel his mouth on you again, but he holds back

Arousal coils and tightens in your gut, body tense with anticipation as he drags the blade even further

He uses it to pop open the button of your pants and then in one swift motion, he’s tugging them down the expanse of your thighs and below your knees until you’re kicking them off your feet

“I can’t let you get away with disobeying. You know that, don’t you?”

You give a meek nod as he inspects you up and down, taking in the sight of your form before zeroing in on the last piece of cloth covering your sex

His hand cups your mound, feeling you up, taking in the way the muscles in your lower abdomen clench every time he brushes his thumb over your clit

“Open that pretty little mouth of yours”

You don’t need to be told twice, though you’ve no idea what he‘s planning and it’s absolutely terrifying

He flips the knife in his hold like second nature, grasping it loosely by the blade to press the hilt between your lips

You whine as the foreign shape and texture of the handle presses down on your tongue

“Wrap your lips around it, bunny”

With the way he’s looking at you, focusing all his attention on your mouth, you’ve no choice but to obey

It feels big and clunky and out of place, but you still do your best to move around it, even as he slowly pumps it in and out of your inviting opening

You give it an experimental lick, suckling it faintly and toying with it between your lips

But before you know it, he’s pulling it out, still holding it by the blade, and then he’s nudging it between your legs, making what sounds like a faint hum or a husky purr

“H-habit, I—“

You cut yourself off with a gasp as he nudge your panties to the side and grazes your folds with the spit-covered handle of the knife

You squirm at the feeling, legs instinctively about to close shut, but he quickly grasps your ankle with his free hand before they can, shooting you a warning glare

“You gonna take your punishment like a good girl, (y/n)?”

Your face flushes

What choice do you really have?

With a tentative nod, you whisper a meek little “yes” and it has him grinning widely

“Then keep your legs open for me,” he commands, nearly snarling beneath his breath

You let him coat the hilt in the slick puddling between your legs

Every time he slides it up to your clit, you have to force yourself not to buck up or move and squirm too much

He circles the rounded end around your entrance, and you hate the way it has you clenching around nothing in anticipation

You squeeze your eyes shut and dig your fingers into the cushions below you, your muscles seizing and heart pounding in your chest

Much to your surprise, he takes it slow and easy, giving you plenty of time to adjust to the new sensation as he breaches through

It feels hard and solid and has your walls pulsing around it, struggling to take it all in while aching for more to hit deeper

“There we go—that’s not so bad, is it?” he purrs

You bite back a whimper as he slowly pumps the knife in and out of your drenched silk walls

Every time he pushes it in, the hilt drags along your spongy nerve endings and your hips buckle up, quiet mewls and whimpers falling from your parted lips

He grabs your jaw, fingers squishing into your cheeks, and yanks you up closer so your faces are inches apart

“Don’t enjoy your punishment too much, little rabbit~”

Squirm and whimper as you might, you’re helpless to stop him as he digs his fingers into your cheeks and forces your mouth to pop open

Your eyes screw shut with a desperate sound as he spits into your mouth and yanks your jaw shut so you’ve no choice but to swallow

You struggle in his grasp, utterly trapped beneath him, trying to quell the gasps and moans and whines threatening to bubble from your throat

And then in one hard thrust with little to no warning, he slams the hilt into you and you’re helpless to keep quiet

Your back arches as you moan loudly, euphoria seizing every nerve of your body as your muscles tighten so wonderfully

He hits something deep and marvelously addictive inside of you and you need more

With a cruel chuckle, he slams the hilt into you over and over again, soaking up and savoring the way your body shudders with every brutal impact of pure ecstasy

You’re so, so close to cuming, your peak tingling in your body, leaving you a pathetic moaning mess beneath him

“Gonna cum so soon, bunny?” he coos mockingly

You can’t even find it in you to answer coherently, your peak looming over you and threatening to take command of your body

And just as your muscles are about to cease in that familiar rush of building ecstasy, he pulls away, leaving you painfully empty and without any stimulus to cum 

“H-habit—“

Your hips buckle uselessly, trying to chase a high that won’t come

“You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily after disobeying, did you?”

He brings the knife up for both of you to watch your slick glisten off the handle

And then he brings his mouth to it and licks it in one long stripe of the flat of his tongue

You feel your face heat up and squirm, looking away, when the edge of the cool blade is pressed to your throat

Panic seizes your veins

“Look at me”

Your gaze darts back to meet him as he presses it harder into your neck

“Say ahh~”

You let your tongue out of your mouth, lips parting open, a faint “ah” sound emitting from your throat

You can still taste yourself in his saliva as he spits into your mouth again, and you quickly swallow with a gasp as he presses a shallow cut to your collarbone

“Don’t fool yourself into thinking your punishment’s over just yet, little bunny. We have the whole night ahead of us~”

[its-monster-mash]

Paul(The Lost Boys) X Michael’s Ex!Fem!Reader Imagine(Part 1)

Content Warnings: Vaguely Love-Triangley? (Reader and Michael are still good friends and broke up a while before Mike moved, but things are a little awkward because they were each other’s first serious relationship; so he’s more protective than he needs to be, and there might be a few hurt feelings, but I wouldn’t quite call it a love triangle), Brief Sexual Harassment

Part 2

This turned out SUPER long so I’m putting it under a readmore; also I think I’m going to make it a series because I want to go a lot further with this but I suspect I’m going to run out of space soon

• Michael Emerson had been your best friend since you were kids, growing up in Phoenix only a ten minute walk from eachother...if you knew the right shortcuts. You knew all of them, thought you knew everything when you were younger, and you got yourself and Mike into a fair amount of trouble because of it...but he had always been a good kid, and was able to temper your more destructive elements.

• It surprised exactly no one when the two of you eventually started dating, nor did it surprise them when you broke up a few years later. You had always been inseparable, and the love had always been there, but over time you just couldn’t help but feel stifled. You had spent your entire teen years with him, and so many people liked to joke that Mike tamed you...at the rate you were going it seemed like sundresses, picket fences, and a couple of kids weren’t far off in your future...and that scared you.

• Mike was heartbroken when you left him, and for the first few weeks he absolutely held it against you, but due to your shared friends and history your friendship survived. Unfortunately, his parents’ divorce separated your iconic duo once again.

• When Mike’s dad showed up on your doorstep a few days after the move, you tore him a new one for basically abandoning his sons. He set a box on your porch, Mike’s Tools...his Grandpa gave them to him when he was just a little kid and they were one of his most treasured possessions...they were forgotten in the chaos of the move...His dad thought you might visit him sometime...

• That’s what led to you hopping in your shitass El Camino and making the drive to Santa Carla. Lucy had given you their new address before they left...you knew she hoped that maybe you and Mike would get back together some day, but that just wasn’t in the cards. At the end of the day he was just too good, too normal, for you.

• Driving through Santa Carla, you can’t help but be drawn to the sheer...strangeness of it all. Looking at the people, you feel like you actually fit in here. You definitely plan on hanging around the town for a while.

• Mike isn’t home when you get to his Grandpa’s house, but his mom could not be happier to see you. It’s a bittersweet reunion for you; she had been more of a mother to you growing up than your own parents, but after breaking her son’s heart you just don’t feel like it‘s right for you to call her “Mom” like you used to. She has a million questions, and she even suggests you stay with them for a while...you politely decline.

• You didn’t tell her that sleeping in your beat-up old car was preferable to her hospitality, but it would just be too weird, with how recent your breakup was. You and Mike are still friends, but you think sleeping under the same roof might be weird for him

• You still want to see him though, so you decide to explore the town on foot for a while; maybe run into him. You’re wandering around when you hear a familiar voice coming from the open door of a comic book store.

• As soon as you walk in you see the unmistakably garish patterns of Sammy Emerson’s signature style and break into a wide smile. “Long time no see, huh kid?” Almost the second he sees you he practically knocks you over with a hug, backing away in embarrassment after a second of thought. You and Mike were already best friends by the time he was born, so Sam was almost as much your little brother as he is Mike’s.

• “Now What was that about Vampires?” You had overheard Sam and the Frog brothers when you walked into the store...Sam rolls his eyes, and the Frogs assail you with some insane story about how the town is overrun with vampires. Some imaginations these kids have.

• You bail out of there pretty quick in favor of wandering the boardwalk, seeing what Santa Carla had to offer...before you know it, the sun is starting to set

• Maybe going out alone in “The Murder Capital of The World” wasn’t your smartest decision, but you weren’t exactly known for your self preservation; that had always been Mike’s job...but he isn’t here now.

• You grimace as you notice a group of surfers take notice of you. You had wandered a bit aways from the main crowd, so you aren’t sure anyone would notice if things went south... “Hey Sweetie.”

• “Get Bent.” You sneer as they close in on you. “Awe well that’s not very polite,” the leader says, giving your ass a firm squeeze. “You should try being a little nicer.”

• You humor him with the sweetest smile you can muster as you stomp as hard as you can on his foot. He calls you a bitch and you flinch as his fist flies toward you.

• You open your eyes when the hit never comes, and are shocked to see that someone had caught the guy’s fist. You look up at him and your cheeks flush; when was the last time you saw a guy this handsome? “This guy bothering you, babe?” He asks as he squeezes the guy’s fist so tight you hear something pop. The guy falls to his knees and gasps in pain as his friends back away nervously. You smile wickedly. “Not anymore.”

• You watch the douchbags storm away with their wounded pride, shouting empty threats, only distracted when your Knight in Shining Tight-Pants tucks your hair affectionately behind your ear. “So what’s a pretty thing like you doing alone in a town like this?”

• You bite your lip, eyeing him appreciatively; now that you could get a good look at him you can tell he is definitely your type...and you hadn’t been with anyone since you broke things off with Michael. “Hoping to run into an old friend, but I haven’t seen him.”

• He grins, clearly appreciating your look. “That’s too bad, wanna make some new friends?” His eyes are fixed on you with a certain hunger, there’s a palpable danger to him; it excites you.

• You shift your stance flirtatiously, leaning into him ever so slightly. “That depends, are they all as cute as you?” He pokes his tongue into his cheek with an amused grin. “Almost.”

• He takes your mischievous smirk as agreement, and throws an arm around you, leading you back to where his friends are gathered by their bikes. “This the chick you ditched us for?” The curly-headed blond asks, humor in his tone.

• “Well I for one am grateful for the timely rescue.” You grin. “How grateful?” The blond on the bike asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively; making you laugh. Your hero slaps at him playfully, and the favor is returned.

• Seemingly the leader of the group, the spiky-headed blond interrupts the roughhousing. “Paul, Marko, knock it off and let’s go.”

• Paul nods, climbing onto his bike and grinning at you seductively. “You wanna go for a ride, babe?”

• His smile is infectious, and his innuendo isn’t lost on you. Maybe it’s not your safest decision, but you climb on the back of his bike; earning a loud “HELL YES.” From him, and hooting and hollering from Marko.

• “Make sure you hold on tight babe, I’m about to take you on a ride you’ll never forget.” “Shut up and drive,” you tease as you wrap your arms tightly around his midsection.

• They all laugh deviously as they rev their motors to life, and you’re glad you’re holding on tight, nearly falling off when they take off from 0 to 100. “HOLY SHIT!” “What’s the matter sweetheart, can’t handle a little speed?”

• “That all you got?!” You ask, acting tough. It was a mistake though. “That all you got, Paul?” Marko asks, mocking you. “I dunno girl, I think that’s all he’s got.” The big brunette says, first time he’s spoken since you met the boys. “Fuck off, Dwayne!” Paul shouts. The leader gives his engine a rev, egging Paul on. You scream, forced to cling tightly to his back as his bike tears into the night. Marko pulls up next to you, mimicking you with a falsetto squeal.

• “Damn babe, already screaming for me,” Paul teases over the roar of his motor. You’d sass him back if you weren’t too busy burying your face in his back for dear life. You’d ridden on the back of Mike’s bike plenty of times before, but he was never this reckless. You’re as terrified as you are thrilled.

• By the time you start to get used to the speed, the boys are slowing down, and much to your surprise, they pull right up to Michael, who is standing with a girl you haven’t met. His eyes snap to you instantly and go wide with confusion, he hadn’t even been aware you’d come to town. “(Y/N)?”

• “This that friend you were looking for?” Paul asks. “Yeah, (Y/N), care to introduce us to Star’s new friend?” “David please.” You watch the exchange a bit uncomfortably, shifting on the bike, arms still around Paul. “Yeah...Hey Mike, I uh, your old man dropped your tools off at my place so I took them up to your mom.” Your chest feels impossibly tight. You aren’t jealous to see him with a new girl, but you had hoped that maybe he’d be a little happier to see you here...and him, the earring and that jacket...it doesn’t feel like Mike at all. Paul can feel you shrink against him.

• “Hope I’m not stepping on any toes here,” Paul says, giving your thigh an unsubtle squeeze; deliberately antagonizing Michael. You smile a bit awkwardly as Mike scratches the back of his head in discomfort. Star looks between the two of you, avoiding eye contact with David. “No, Mike and I used to date but...” “But it’s over,” Mike says, a bit too shortly, trying to cover the awkwardness with an unconvincing smile.

• David shoots him a not-all together-friendly look. “Well, you seem to be moving on well enough,” he says, gesturing to Star, who shrinks beside him. “So’s (Y/N),” Paul interjects, looking over his shoulder to smile at you. You smile back at him, despite the awkwardness.

• “We should go, Star,” David urges. Star hesitates, but climbs on the back of his bike. Michael looks mortified, and you can’t help but feel awful for him. You’re shocked when David nods his head toward Mike’s bike. “Come with us, Michael.”

• You know the look on Mike’s face; his first instinct is to back out, avoid trouble...but then he looks at you, and he looks at Star; like he’s worried what will happen to you if he doesn’t come along. “Mike,” You don’t have to come, you start to say, feeling Paul tense in your arms. “I’m coming.”

• “This is gonna be so sick,” Marko says with a practically manic grin, before Dwayne swats him upside the head. “Don’t be an ass.”

• “Don’t forget, (Y/N), hold on tight,” Paul says, side eyeing Michael a little less than subtly. Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug apologetically. This is awkward, for sure, but one way or another you want to see this through. Paul and the boys seem cool as hell, and at the very least seem like a good way to get back on the horse after getting over a long relationship.

• You squeeze Paul a little tighter, heart pounding against his back. He revs his engine. “You ready, babe?”

[reidrco]

gates of hell

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: tommy shelby x reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: angst, fluff.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿‘𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: im sorry it took me so long to post something!! :( i broke my own heart writing this but im kinda happy with the result (well a part of me doesn’t like it at all but what’s new..) anygays i hope y’all like it <3

The things Thomas Shelby was scared of could be counted on the fingers of one hand. Sometimes you were convinced that the word “fear” didn’t even exist in his vocabulary.

He seemed to never experience emotions like panic or angst, not even when he was about to fight one of his worst enemies or planned his sinful crimes. At least he didn’t show it, bottling his feelings up and never opening up to anyone because he just clearly wasn’t the man to do so. 

Sometimes you found yourself hoping he would turn to you if he ever felt like talking about what was going on inside his head, letting you comfort him and kiss away all the pain and doubts, but you knew that would never happen.

Tommy hated talking about his feelings even though you had told him a hundred times that it might help him, but he didn’t believe a single word you said and continued keeping his thoughts to himself.

He knew he could talk to you about everything and trusted you with his life, but he was scared of showing weakness, scared of showing you his broken heart which got shattered into a million pieces so often already.

At some point you had started to accept that you couldn’t make him feel better when he came home after a stressful day at work or when his terrible nightmares tortured him, the alcohol being a much better painkiller than you could ever be. You were convinced Tommy would never cry in your arms or share the thoughts running amok inside his head with you.

And you tried to understand, you really did, but sometimes it wasn’t easy for you to see him exhausted and hurt, knowning he wouldn’t open up.

It was past midnight when you finally heard Tommy’s loud footsteps making their way up the stairs towards your shared bedroom. You closed your novel, put it on the nightstand next to you and sat up as Tommy carefully opened the door, because he didn’t want to wake you up in case you had already fallen asleep.

You had stopped waiting for him every night a few weeks ago, going to bed much earlier than usual. Tommy didn’t want to admit it bothered him, but the first night he hadn’t been greeted by your warm embrace and soft lips had made his heart ache.

He was surprised when he entered the bedroom as quiet as possible and noticed you were still wide awake, the candle light making your soft skin glow in the darkness. His heart started beating faster immediatly, the butterflies flying around in his stomach excitedly. He had missed you. A lot.

The two of you hadn’t spend a lot of time together the past days and Tommy knew it was his fault. His nightmares had become worse every night, keeping him awake for hours and making it hard for him to think about something else than the tight and dark tunnels during the day. He kept pushing you away from him, building up his walls you once had broken around him again. To protect himself.

This wasn’t the first time the two of you went through such a difficult phase in your relationship and you were used to not seeing each other so often when Tommy struggled with his flashbacks of France, but this time it felt different.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Tommy asked and closed the door behind him before he took off the jacket of his suit and his shoes. You simply nodded.

The dark bags under his blue eyes and his tensed muscles were unmistakable, the tiredness on his face making him look like he hadn’t slept in two years, but you stayed silent.

You just didn’t know what to say. Telling him how tired he looked would probably make him mad because he hated that topic and talking about business was something he didn’t like after a stressful day.

The two of you hadn’t properly talked to each other in days, only exchanging a few words in Tommy‘s office now and then. You gave Tommy the space you thought he needed, leaving him alone with his torturing nightmares and flashbacks.

But in reality Tommy wanted nothing more than to spend time with you to distract himself from the evil demons inside his head, but how were you supposed to know that when he would never tell you that? 

The lack of communication made it hard for the two of you to make your relationship work, way too many unspoken words standing between Tommy and you.

An uncomfortable silence filled your bedroom while Tommy took off his gun holster and placed it on his wooden desk. He didn’t know what to say either, thinking of a good way to start another conversation with you.

“What are you reading?” he finally asked as he noticed the novel on your nightstand and sat down on the chair behind his desk, his eyes never meeting yours.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?” you whispered and ignored his question because you knew he didn’t really care about literature, getting up from your comfortable side of the bed.

He was way too distracted by your flawless beauty to answer your question as he looked at you , leaning back in his chair. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in your arms, but he still had to read over a few papers he hadn’t finished at work earlier.

“When was the last time you slept, Tom?” you asked as you stood in front of him between his legs, cupping his face with your warm hands to make him look into your eyes.

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly, unable to prevent the strong wall he had built around him from collapsing anymore as he felt your loving touch and saw the worried look on your face.

Today had been another exhausting day at work, none of his brothers had listened to his orders and had done what they thought was right which had made everything even worse. Tommy had lost an important business partner because of an unnecessary argument. Only because he hadn’t been able to focus on the conversation.

But he hadn’t slept in days and his mind was back in the dark, deep and terrifying tunnels in France, making it impossibe for him to concentrate on his work or the important business meetings.

The fact that he couldn’t find peace at night nearly drove him crazy, it made him feel frustrated and angry, it made him want to cry. For the first time he just wanted to cry, cry until all the pain and nightmares were finally gone. He didn’t even remember what had triggered his nightmares again, but he knew he wanted them to stop. To disappear.

Someone had to lock up the gates to hell again after pushing his demons back in and he truly hoped that special someone could be you.

“Let‘s go to bed and I’ll finish these papers for you tomorrow, okay?” you suggested and let your fingers run through his dark hair. Tommy wrapped his strong arms around your waist tightly, pulling you closer to him and pressing his cheek against your stomach.

His tensed muscles started to relax while he enjoyed being close to you after all these days of barely spending time with you.

“What‘s wrong, Tommy?” you dared to ask quietly, hoping he would finally open up and give you the chance to comfort him. You had never seen him so vulnerable before, the lack of sleep making him defenceless.

It took him a while to choose the rights words, but there seemed to be none which could describe how he felt. 

He knew he could trust you, he really did, but he didn’t want to worry you for, in his eyes, no reason. Tommy had handled his nightmares all by himself a lot of times, never talking to you about them even though he knew that‘s exactly what you wanted him to do.

“I can‘t sleep,“ he finally said, his voice only a quiet mumble you almost couldn’t understand. He paused for a few seconds, playing nervously with the ring on his index finger behind your back.

“Every time I close my eyes I‘m back in France.... and it feels so real, (Y/N),“ he whispered while you silently listened. “I can hear wounded men begging for help and the digging of their shovels. They never stop digging, (Y/N), I hear the shovels everywhere. In my office, in our fucking bedroom, fucking everywhere.”

A short moment of silence followed. Tommy tried to collect his thoughts to prevent himself from breaking down in tears right in front of you, not wanting to show you how vulnerable he really was.

Your teeth sunk harshly into your bottom lip as you tried to hold back your own tears, wanting nothing more than take all of the pain away from your fiancé, but you knew you couldn’t which made you want to cry even more.

“It feels so real, (Y/N). Sometimes when I wake up I don’t even know if I’m still in the tunnels or back home,” he admitted quietly. It wasn’t easy for Tommy to talk about his dark feelings, but he slowly realised it actually made him feel better.

You dropped to your knees on the floor to be on the same eye level as Tommy, taking his handsome face in your warm and soft hands. He looked into your eyes while placing his hands on top of yours. You could see the pain and relief written all over his face, hearing your own heart break for the second time this night.

“I want to help you, I really do, but you need to stop pushing me away. Please, Tommy,” you whispered, salty tears starting to burn into your (y/e/c) eyes, “I wish I could punch your nightmares in the face.”

You could only imagine how Tommy must feel. Getting reminded of the hopeless and horrible time in the tunnels every night definitely didn‘t sound like a comforting lullaby.

He nodded slightly and couldn’t hide the grin growing on his handsome face as he leaned forward to press a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Let‘s go to bed, okay? It‘s late and you really need to get some sleep,” you suggested and slowly got up on your feet. Tommy stared into your eyes nervously, the thought of laying down and closing his eyes made his heart beat faster.

He was afraid of hearing the shovels again and seeing nothing but the dark, deep tunnels in his terrible dreams. He had spend most of his nights in his office, falling asleep on the uncomfortable chair because he had wanted to let you sleep in peace.

Tommy had no idea how to tell you he didn’t want to sleep and face his evil demons once again, the tired look on your face making it even harder for him to say no to you.

“Come on,” you smiled lovingly and took his cold hands in yours. He hesitated nervously, not knowning what would happen as soon as he closed his eyes tonight.

But he still got up from his chair, squeezing your hand slightly and following you to his side of the bed. He didn’ t even take off his uncomfortable suit, immediatly crawling under the cool blanket. 

You layed down on the matress next to him, quickly slipping under his blanket and resting your head on his chest. Tommy wrapped his strong arm around your waist and pulled you closer, giving you the feeling of home and safety you had missed the past weeks.

“I love you,” you whispered and closed your eyes, “I love you so much and nothing will ever change that. I promise.”

Your sudden declaration of love put a smile on his face. He didn’t say it back very often, but that didn’t mean those three magical words meant nothing to him. He loved hearing you say them.

Tommy took a deep breathe before he closed his eyes. Luckily you decided to talk about the newest gossip you had heard on the streets today, trying to  distract him from the thoughts of his nightmares.

Even though he didn’t really listen to what you we‘re actually saying, he appreciated your company more than anything else in his life. You made him feel incredibly loved and had the power of fixing his broken heart again, putting it back together.

He slowly drifted into a deep sleep while you continued talking about your day. Your warm embrace, your hair tickling his face and your voice fought off the cruel demons inside his mind, calming him down and making his nervousness go away.

His nightmares still hadn’t been gone that night, but when he had woken up and still felt your warm embrace he had known he was home and safe. With you. 

In that moment he had realised you were the only one who could ever make the shovels stop digging, the special someone locking up the gates of hell.

𝘁𝗮𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @lizzielovebot​ @sweetgoodangel​ @captivatedbycillianmurphy​

[leahxx129]

His Name (demon!Dean Winchester x Reader)

This is a submission for the immensely talented @fvckingavengers​ ‘ quarantine writing challenge. Also, I’d like to credit @angelkurenai​ since her soulmate AU imagines provided the main idea for this fic. 

My prompt for inspiration was:

You’re all I need when I’m holding you tight / If you walk away I will suffer tonightI found a man I can trust / And boy, I believe in us / I am terrified to love for the first time / Can’t you see that I’m bound in chains? / I finally found my way / I am bound to you - Bound to You by Christina Aguilera

Summary: Nobody knew why or how, but on their thirteenth birthday every person on planet Earth would start feeling this burning sensation on their left lower arm, which intensifies as the day carries on. By the time the sun goes down, the burning sensation would leave a scar, forming a name. It’s believed to be the name of the person one belongs with. The letters on your skin spell out Dean Winchester.

Warnings: angst, mild swearing

Word count: 3.275-ish

Sam Winchester is staring intensely on the map in the War room as if he watched it closely enough, it would show where his brother went from the last place he’d been spotted at. Sam is tired beyond words – he has spent every waking hour searching for Dean, even though he is not sure that the demon curing ritual would work on a Knight of Hell.

„You know we’re gonna find him, right?” Cas speaks up, making Sam jump a little.

„Cas... didn’t see you there... Uhm, sure, I know. It’s just harder than I thought.” his words don’t really comply with his facial expression.

„Well, I do not know if this is helpful, but Crowley sent me a photo a few minutes ago with a text saying ’Show this to Moose’. It depicts a woman I have never seen before.” he hands Sam the phone.

„Oh my God!” Sam’s eyes light up with excitement. „Why haven’t I thought of that?!”

„Thought of what? I think I’m in the dark here, Sam.”

But Sam is too busy looking for something in his pockets to answer. A couple of seconds later a familiar rattle indicates he found his car keys and he claps Cas on the shoulder.

„We have a long drive ahead of us, buddy.”

It‘s 2. a.m. on a Thursday night, you are wiping the bar counter with a cloth. Nothing out of the ordinary happened all evening. You started your shift around 6 p.m. at the local bar, only the regulars came in. The air was heavy with the scent of liquor and cigarette smoke. Even the old jukebox in the corner and the clatter of billiard balls sounded pretty much the same as every night.

Just as you’ve finished wiping and start washing the glasses, the main door opens then closes slowly with a squeak.

„I’m sorry but were closed! Try tomorrow, pal.” you say without looking at the newly arrived guest. It’s not a rare phenomenon that someone wants to stick around for a couple more drinks after closing time, so you don’t suspect anything. Not until the person begins talking, anyway.

’Really? I thought you’d make an exception for an old friend...”

Hearing Sam Winchester’s voice makes your blood run cold, numbing you to an extent that the glass you are holding slips out of your grasp and shatters to a dozen pieces on the floor.

„Sam...” despite your best efforts you can’t muster anything other than his name.

„I mean, I was hoping you’d be excited to see me, Y/N, but breaking glasses is not necessary. Or safe.” he chuckles, sitting down on a bar stool.

„Shut up, smartass!” you intend to look serious, but a smile creeps on your face, nevertheless.

There’s a long moment of silence. Neither of you want to spoil the joy of reunion so you just look at one another, taking in how the other has changed over the years. You pour two scotches and finally Sam clears his throat.

„I see you’re still covering up his name.” he states, referring to your bracelets that hide most of your left lower arm.

Oh, right. His name. Frankly, you tend to forget about those words burnt in your skin quite easily.

Nobody knew why or how, but on their thirteenth birthday every person on planet Earth would start feeling this burning sensation on their left lower arm, which intensifies as the day carries on. By the time the sun goes down, the burning sensation would leave a scar, forming a name. It’s believed to be the name of the person one belongs with. The letters on your skin spell out Dean Winchester.

You can still picture the day you got it crystal clearly.

It was around 10 p.m. when it finished burning and you were able to read it. Your father’s face turned to an ashy color and he drove you to Bobby Singer’s house where the Winchesters were staying at the time. Hearing an engine die, Bobby and John came out to see who the unexpected visitors were.

“Stay in the car!” your father ordered through gritted teeth as he got out and you obeyed.

John smiled when he recognized him, but his smile soon turned to a painful grimace – courtesy of your father’s amazing left hook.

“What the hell, man?!” he shouted in disbelief, wiping the blood off his face with the back of his hand. Bobby was visibly indecisive whether to stop the fight or let it play out.

“I could ask you the very same question, Winchester!” your father bellowed in response.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“I’m talking about the name that formed on my little girl’s arm, John! You have some dark connections, you must’ve got something to do with it!”

“It’s Dean, isn’t it?” you could see the epiphany on his face even in the poor light that filtered through Bobby’s kitchen window. “Look, pal... you and I both know damn well that this cannot be controlled.”

A long silence ensued. Only the crickets could be heard.

“Ever since my girl’s name showed up on your boy’s arm, I prayed every single night for it to be a mistake. For her to get a different name when the time comes, and you know I don’t believe in God, John!” your father’s voice cracked. “I prayed for her to get the name of a lawyer, a doctor or a dentist… somebody that’ll provide for her. And she got a hunter. Out of seven billion people, she got a hunter… I don’t want her to end up like Mary, or her Mom.”

John took a step closer and squeezed your father’s shoulder.

“Dean will take good care of her, I promise.”

You banish the memory as quickly as you can. The only thing you’re thankful for is the fact that none of your dads lived long enough to see how much of a lie John’s promise would prove to be.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t cover it up.” you answer Sam coldly and he shoots you an apologetic look.

“What about yours? Have you found your, uhm... what’s her face… Eileen Leahy?” your pronunciation earns a genuine smile from him.

“No, not yet. I’m starting to think she’s a myth.”

“Well then, she’s the luckiest myth in this whole damn world, I can tell you that much.”

You down your drink in one gulp and decide to ask what’s been bothering you ever since he set foot in the bar.

“Alright, Sam, honest talk. Why are you here? What’s up? I gave you this address for emergencies and the fact that we’re having a face-to-face conversation right here, right now is a bad sign in my book.”

He looks like he’s contemplating the way to present the situation to you, but you’re having none of it.

“No need for sugarcoating, hot stuff, just spill it.”

“Dean’s a demon.”

You’re not sure if you’ve heard it right or the scotch you’ve just drunk was spiked.

“Excuse me?”

“Dean’s a demon. He died with the Mark of Cain on his arm and he turned into a Knight of Hell. Gone rogue. I want to fix him, but you know Dean... it’s damn hard to find him when he doesn’t wanna be found.” he flashes you a smile but when you don’t replicate it, he continues “I’m here because he’s here, Y/N. Based on my intel, he’s been visiting this bar to see you. Will you help me cure him?”

With a blank stare you pour yourself another drink, now wishing for it to be spiked.

The next day after closing you don’t get into your car immediately; you decide to light a cigarette first. Sam’s words are still echoing in your ears. A demon? And he’s been visiting the bar to see you? Why the hell would he do that? You’re about to stub the remainder of your cigarette when you hear his voice from behind you.

“I always thought you looked incredibly sexy when you smoked, darlin’. Turned me on so much.”

You spin around on your heels just to bump straight into Dean’s chest. He grabs hold of your arms to steady you. His touch gives you goosebumps, but you compose yourself swiftly. You cannot allow him to see the effect he still has on you, even after everything that happened.

“I know, Dean, you made it clear quite a few times with your actions… what I don’t know, however, is the reason behind your little visit... so, a fucking explanation would be nice. But first, let go of me!”

“That’s such an ugly word from such a pretty mouth… and to be honest, I think you know damn well what I’m doing here. A birdy tells me Sammy paid you a visit and I doubt that he didn’t share a few things about me, Y/N. As for letting you go… sorry, no can do.” he smirks.

“What do you mean ‘no can do’, Winchester?!” you ask sharply, panic rising withing you.

“Well, more precisely, I don’t want to. I’ve missed you.” he leans in closer to your face “And frankly, I don’t want you to put those engraved demon cuffs on me that peek from your back pocket, sweetie.” he whispers against your lips.

“Okay. How ‘bout the ones Sam is about to put on you?” you whisper back, causing him to furrow his brows in confusion and lean away. This gives you enough space to headbutt him and he automatically stumbles a step backwards, allowing Sam to cuff him from behind.

With united forces you manage to hustle Dean into the trunk of your car.

“You know, demon or not, it’s nice to know some things never change. You’ve always let your dick do the thinking instead of your brain.” you tell him condescendingly before closing the trunk.

When Dean wakes up in the Men of Letters’ dungeon restrained, at first, he’s perplexed. Then as realization slowly hits him, his face becomes distorted with fury and he starts wriggling in an attempt to break free, but he doesn’t succeed. A frustrated, unhuman-like growl leaves his throat. You watch this with undeniable pleasure.

„Mornin’, sunshine!” you greet him jovially.

There’s a short silence as he watches you prepare some syringes on the nearby iron table.

„So, you’re the one who’s gonna do it, huh? Or at least try...” he says arrogantly.

„Yup!”

„Now that’s funny ’cause you see I thought you hated needl-„ but you don’t let him complete his sentence as you pierce your skin faster than he could finish it. Your blood fills up the syringe in no time.

You walk over to him and sit on his lap in a straddling position.

„I do hate needles, Dean.” You admit „Kudos for remembering. But I’m pretty sure that you’ll hate what comes next even more than I hate them and that makes it worth it.”

Before he could react, you stab him in the neck with the syringe, completely emptying its content into his artery. The unhuman growl breaks out once again, but this time it turns into manic laughter.

„Wow, that was exciting!” he exclaims as his eyes turn black „Almost as exciting as Jo holding me at gunpoint when we first met. But just almost... You know, there were times I wished it was her name on my arm instead of yours.”

 „Interesting. Because there were times I wished it was your brother’s name on mine, but I guess we can’t always get what we want, now can we?” you shrug and walk back to the table, not minding Dean’s pitch-black stare. He thought he could hurt you since Jo was your best friend, but you manage to hit closer to home.

You sit down on a chair, place your legs on the table and put your headphones on.

„What are doing?” Dean asks, clearly upset.

„You didn’t seriously think I was gonna listen to your annoying blabber until the next shot, did you?” he opens his mouth to reply but you turn on the music on your phone and start lip-syncing to ’Dream on’ by Aerosmith.

In the following four hours you administer the next four shots, each at every clock turn. Dean says something insulting each time and you try to ignore him each time - with more or less success.

“Alright, hot stuff, time for the sixth shot!” examining your arm you realize it starts resembling to a needle pillow, but you draw another fix for him all the same.

This time he appears calmer. He’s not trying to pull his head away or even bite you like at some previous occasions. No shouting or growls either. You can see he started sweating, the small drops glisten on his skin like illuminated diamonds. Could the ritual actually be working?

You’re halfway back to the table when he calls you by the nickname he gave you, forcing you to turn back.

“I just want you to know I admire you. I really do, Y/N. Seeing you put this much effort into this makes me wish I put more in our relationship.” he shoots you a sad, crooked smile.

“Careful, Dean. If you don’t stop attempting to manipulate my emotions, I’m gonna punch you in the face. Again. But this time harder.” you warn him.

“I’m not toying with you. I honestly wish.”

“Well it’s kind of too late for that, isn’t it?” you take a step closer to him and pull up the bracelets on your arm. “See these words? They are the sole reason I’m here and doing this. Okay?”

“Who are you trying to fool, sweet thing? Me or yourself?”

“Shut up, asshole.”

Your hands tremble when you get back to the table and put the headphones on. You feared this moment would come and here it is. He’s trying to get under your skin. And it’s working.

Later on when you approach him with the seventh shot, he tilts his head to the side, offering his neck.

“Go on.” he encourages you and you take the opportunity. The ferocious, invincible being Sam chained down is nowhere to be seen – a broken man with beautiful green eyes looks longingly at you instead.

“There’s one more to go and you’ll be your annoying self again, hot stuff.” you tell him softly, relenting a little.

“And you?”

“I’ll be on my way to the farthest place from here.” you decide to tell him the truth, which seems to render him speechless for a minute.

“Why do you hate me so much, Y/N?” I mean, I know I’ve never been the high definition of an awesome boyfriend, trust me, but the amount of resentment I sense baffles me.” he asks, sounding genuinely intrigued.

The ball of uneasiness in your stomach grows two sizes in the span of a minute.

“You’ve lost your right to ask such personal questions four years ago, Winchester. You’ve lost it when you left that letter on the kitchen counter, and you walked out on us!” you say in a strained voice.

Suddenly, all the memories you‘ve worked so hard to suppress flood back in.

When Sam jumped in the pit, Dean was lost. His self-destructive behavior foreshadowed a gruesome end and you just couldn’t let him spiral down like that. You made arrangements and got out of the life. Rented a house in the countryside and started living like a normal couple. Beforehand, your relationship was stormy to say the least, but settling down steadied it a lot. Everything was picture perfect for about a year - then you found that damn letter when you arrived home from work. Dean explained in it that Sam was alive, and he needed some time to figure stuff out. You didn’t even get the chance to tell him what you learned that day… and this was the last straw. You never contacted Dean Winchester again, nor did you speak to him directly. Your liaison was Sam up until that night in the bar’s parking lot.

Dean’s voice brings you back to reality.

“My brother came back from the dead… I was confused, Y/N. Just like I wrote, I needed time! After a while I was trying to reach out to you, but you refused to even-“he stops mid-sentence “Wait a minute… walked out on you… as in… plural?”

You nod mechanically and his eyes widen.

“Wha-what happened?” he chokes out eventually.

“I was pregnant. Then miscarried. Don’t worry about it.”

Is that really a teardrop running down his cheek, or are you imagining things?

“Don’t worry about it?” he raises his voice in disbelief. “That’s all you’re gonna say about it?!”

“I don’t want to say anything else, Dean. Because if I pull on that thread again, my mind will go to a dark, lonely place and I think I deserve better than that.”

“Goddamnit…” he exhales loudly, then continues “When all of this is over, I want you to stay.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“I want you to stay with me. Here. I want a clean slate, a-a new beginning.”

You can’t comprehend what’s happening. One minute you were curing your ex-boyfriend from demonism, and the other he wants to start things over despite your history together. 

Instead of replying, you fill up the last syringe and administer the eighth shot quickly, then deliver the required incantation. Just as you finish, Sam enters the dungeon and you run past him straight to your car. You open the door but before you could sit in somebody closes it from behind. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is, but you do it anyway. Dean takes your left arm and reveals his own name.

“I remember the night you got this thing. I was in the house when you and your dad arrived at Bobby’s and I witnessed the whole ordeal. I know that ‘til now I did a crappy job keeping the promise my dad made to yours but give me one last chance to do it right, okay?”

You look away, trying to blink back a few tears that want to escape your eyes deperately.

“I don’t know, Dean…”

He gently grasps your chin to make you face him.

“You know, when Sam gave me your message saying you don’t need me anymore, I thought – fine. If you don’t need me, I don’t need you, simple as that. But it was a lie. I only realized how big when I became a Knight of Hell… I enjoyed killing, Y/N. I enjoyed killing so much that it scared the crap out of me. But all this darkness and anger brought on by the mark alleviated one night when I accidentally stopped at that bar and saw you…”

“Damn, Winchester, are we having a chick-flick moment here?” you ask, trying to take the edge off the situation while wiping your eyes.

“Yeah…I guess we are. But don’t tell anyone ‘cause it would ruin my reputation.” he whispers the last part.

You scoff loudly.

“What reputation are you talking about, exactly? I think you lost every bit of it back in the parking lot when I kicked your demon ass.”

“Oh, well, I guess you’re right, sweet thing.” he admits with a breathy laughter.

“As for a second chance… fine.  But fail to keep that promise once more and I’ll be gone for good. Understood?”

At first a look of genuine surprise spreads on his face but it soon gets switched up by gratitude. He places a feather light kiss on your lips as confirmation.

Truth be told, you could never leave him just as he could never leave you – at least not permanently. No matter the pain and the misery, you belong with each other. Your souls are bound by an invisible lace that nothing can tear apart.

[selfcareparker]

LMAOO I WAS GONNA BRING UP FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLIDER BUT I WASNT SURE IF YOU WERE WATCHING IT HSKAJ (are you liking it? i know it’s only the first episode but ya know, another one tomorrow night- well tomorrow night for me, and did you like wandavision?? i loved it!!)

oh my goodness i’m watching lion king while writing this and i haven’t seen it in a while and i am..... emotional. but anyway, i love that streaming services think that imma pay for them while they charge $50 a month. like yes of course i have that kind of money and i am going to give it to you to watch tv 🙄 that $50 is budgeted to sims thank you. (ALSO SIMS!!! i’ll get to that in a minute) now see if i don’t google levidia right this minute LMAOO, not that i’m gonna use it.. just for the research...

AND HDKSHS SEND THAT CHAOS WALKING LINK LMAO i saw it for the third time with a different one of my friends and she wasn’t the best one to see it with? she literally was on her fucking phone and i was like ok whatever her loss not mine, and idk if you’ve read the books or if you’ve seen it by now, but by the end of the whole movie, after they’ve confirmed THE THING throughout the whole movie she asked the dumbest question and i’m like diD YOU NOT WATCH THE MOVIE, and i guess she didn’t. so. this sounds so vague but i don’t wanna spoil the movie for you just in case lol.

THE STORY LMAOO, so A DIFFERENT FRIEND LOL, like my oldest bff, we had a day together and we wanted to go see chaos walking. and i honest to God thought that no one would be seeing this movie. like NO ONE. every day, i checked the theater seating and no one was there right? plus i really wanted us to have the theater to ourselves. so we sit in the wrong seats, the row in front of us, STILL THINKING WE’RE ALONE. and then these 3 older people came in AND IM ABOUT TO SCREAM FHSJSH AND IM LIKE “are we in your seats?” and they we were like uh yeah, AND IT WAS SO BAD LMAOO , we’re moving and everything would’ve been FINE but my friend’s reclined seat was going down so slow and as it’s going shes LITERALLY SAYING ALOUD “awkward awkward awkward” so she thinks forget it, lemme just get up. HER BAG GETS CAUGHT ON HER CHAIR AND HER FRIES AND THEY SPILL ALONG WITH HER HONEY MUSTARD 😭😭 ALL OVER THE FLOOR! so i’m trying not to laugh lmao but those aren’t even our seats and we just made a mess, so naturally, i get on the floor and start cleaning it up with my napkins (this is going for too long) AND MY FRIEND IS STILL SAYING “awkward awkward awkward awkward” and i’m really abt to crack up bECAUSE LIKE SHUT UP HAHAHA and we’re cleaning it and shit and the oldest lady is gonna say “yeah you’re not gonna make an old lady get on the floor, are you?” AND I WANTED TO LAUGH AND SCREAM AT THE SAME TIME BC DID WE ASK YOU TO, NO, so then i had to get the manager and she helped us clean it, we got new fries and everything was fine, it’s just a crazy story bc LITERALLY WE COULDVE AVOIDED IT AND EVERYTHING BUT THESE ELDERLY PEOPLE HAD TO COME AND SEE THIS MOVIE😭😭 at least the gentlemen was nice.. he helped us clean. but then his wife was like “i aM nOt siTTiNg tHeRe” and at first i thought she was a teenager bc of her stink attitude but her husband was nice. and it’s not like we weren’t cleaning it up, we were!!! like i was so apologetic- anyway.

about sims! do you play console or pc? wait,, you already told me you play pc bc your computer was broken, i’m glad you can play now though :’)) litetally when i read in the tags that you’re playing sims !!!! and are you hyped for bunk beds? i have cc so i’ve had them for a bit, but they were glitchy... but i’m so excited we have them now! i should really play sims today...

GURL IM SO PROUD OF YOU 🥺🥲 i know you aren’t fluent in everything and you aren’t a linguistic genius LMAO but it’s still soooo amazing :’) here i am reading the captions while ur just going hahah, yea i tried duolingo but.... i didn’t stick to it HDJSH talking to you though makes me so interested because you know all these languages, not even studying them like that, but you have this foundation and ahh it’s just super cool. LOL YOU DONT SOUND LAME HAJA IM TELLING YOU ITS SO SO COOL, i’m loving this lesson btw oh my goodness- HSKAJS YOU THOUGHT I WOULD ALREADY KNOW THAT??? HDYSJHS MY ONLY ENGLISH SPEAKING ASS??? HAHAHAHHAH i find that word (Rindfleischetikettie- i’m not gonna write the whole thing i’m sorry) very interesting... like... wow. did you have to google that or did you just know lmao

OKAH THE WATER THING HDKDJDKS UR GONNA TERRIFY ME HAHAH OH MY LORD- first of all CROATIA 😍😍 but thinking about it like that, I WOULD FREAK OUT TOO HAHSGSG i never go that deep into the water, or if i do i have my dad with me lol and i kind of hold onto him bc ive seen/heard too many things about people being dragged into the sea. but i loveee the water (i wanted to be a mermaid soooo bad ohmigosh)

I DONT UNDERSTAND HOW ONE CANNOT LIKE MUSIC ITS AWFUL !! lmao yeah i haven’t even listened to harry’s his first album, everyone says they love it more. I WAS GONNA SAY IMMA LISTEN TO ONLY ANGEL BUT THE WAY YOU DESCRIBE IT HUHAHAH also i have never listened to anything by mgk (i actually had to google who he was IM SORRY😔) i’m tempted to listen tho lol PLEASE JUSTIN BIEBER- I PROMISE IM NOT LAUGHING AT U IVE JUSY NEVER HAD SOMEONE SAY THAT B4!! like i don’t know many people who’ve liked him bUT NOW IM GONNA LISTEN & the cardboard cutout- okay. 😭😭😭

oh my goodness to see the vamps live 🤧 TO SEE ANYONE LIVE PLEASE JJDGSHAHGD and little mix is so good oh my goodness- i actually haven’t been to that many concerts.. i was at my first one, elsie fest (it’s like a broadway thing really) in uhhh october of 2019, yea i took my mom for her birthday bc she loves darren criss and i’m obsessed with glee lmao OH MY GOODNESS YOUVE BEEN TO SO MANY!!! and those are such great artists 😩😩

LMAO UR FINE, hamilton is a musical that lin manuel miranda wrote and i think generally made? i’m obsessed, but basically it was on broadway and then recorded and put on disney+ ... idk i guess it counts a film bc it’s like a movie really cuz it was recorded but in what 2018 or 2016? i don’t remembers the date that is on disney+ but it’s strange how i got into it, a lot of my friends were obsessed and i was like uhh why? and while researching it and watching it, trying to figure out why people love it... i fell in love with it LMAO but the music is FANTASTIC and lin is incredible😭 but yes yes yes i loveeeee high school musical!! my dad actually took my cousins to see it on ice or something (i absolutely forget lmao) but i don’t know how people don’t know hsm. it upsets me.

OKAY IM DOWN TO THE BOTTOM HAHAHA (it takes me so long to respond, now i’m on lion king 2 WHICH IS SO GOOD PLEASE FHHSSHHSHSH) i could respond in chunks but i kind of enjoy responding like this? it feels a bit like a letter but if this whole thing is overwhelming i’ll cut it up lol

+ yes that was me about your fic and sleep and everything lol but it was so good😭 i don’t understand how you write peter so well like you have this ability to capture his.. everything? i’m crine. all the time. over your fics. & i cannot describe my happiness for youuuu :’) i’m so happy you’re writing again 🥺🥰 the thing about how you only want to write the long peter fic but you don’t know how to continue... i feel that so so so hard, i don’t think i told you but ughh i was so blah bc of that feeling of having pent up inspiration for only one fucking thing and not being able to write it. it’s so frustrating 😭

not to add more to this but i need to vent a bit? the situation is definitely different bc with your major it obviously requires for you to ya know, know english lol, but uhm bc i’m homeschooled ive been cheating on all my work SHSHDHSJ like i google the answers but i’m still learning! it’s just..... i find it so unnecessary, like going for an audition no one is gonna say to me “i want you to chanel the knowledge within yourself of the centripetal force of the circle that is the table on this stage” like tf??? there’s literally no point. i’m gonna be getting into voice lessons again soon and i’m already doing dance, AND i’ll be doing this summer camp program (more hamilton lol) and thinking about school is only making me stress more, like i haven’t been able to rehearse dance at all this week bc of it...... so

hahaha reading your tags, lonely anon would still be accurate HAHAHHAHA // another add: yea i love ur current theme, i’ve gotten used to “seeing you” like this, but anything will look super pretty :)) ALSO HOW IS IT STILL SNOWING THERE, i swear it’s getting warmer and warmer by the day here 😭🤧

these long ass posts, my gosh🥲 lonely lovely anon <3

Omg yes it does feel like a letter sldkdj and then the few days of waiting also make more sense okay i love this ❣️💕❤️💓❤️💞🧡💜💘(wtf)sksjhz

Dear lovely anon,

ALSKSJVKD yes i‘m liking falcon and winter soldier dlkdh i haven‘t watched the second episode yet but i‘ll watch it tomorrow! but i didn‘t watch wandavision........ eidislskks i was going to but idk i wasn‘t that interested in it and watching series is already too much of a commitment (what can i say i‘m a Sagittarius—🤧 (no i’m joking i actually know NOTHING about starsigns)) didjj that i couldn‘t force myself to watch it, ALSO i hate (idk if this is an unpopular opinion) when every episode is like a whole hour. i‘m rewatching an old series today (it‘s german so i won‘t even get into it) and the episodes are 25 mins each and i‘ve already watched 8 episodes today ridlndjdjd,,, and i feel like if the episodes were an hour each i wouldn‘t have gotten past episode 2 today like idk.... even if series had the same length in total, i prefer when the individual episodes are shorter idk why tho tbh (so yeah i already wasn‘t 100% convinced about watching wandavision so i just couldn’t make myself watch a bunch of 1hour episodes— i‘ve heard that it‘s good tho- but i‘m not much of a series person so. Dldkk (have we talked about this already??? sorry i don‘t remember what i said lol and i couldn‘t find my own post anymore so dkdjsh) (WAIT I JUST CHECKED THE WANDAVISION EPIOSRDES ARENT EVEN THAT LONG??? Okay wait i might watch it now - did you like it? let me know if i should watch it— why did i think they were 60minutes???)

okay another confession i‘ve never watched the lion king????? i mean i watched it when i was a child but i was too young to actually pay attention to any kind of plot i just liked the songs lol sldkdj i‘ve been meaning to watch it for years tho 🦁 (idk it just felt appropriate to put a lion emoji lmoaoo)

OH MY GOD THE CHAIS WALKING/CINEMA STORY AHSJSKKS😭😭😭😭 NOOOOO (very fitting that there was so much chaos when you were watching a film that has chaos in the title loool) and the “awkward awkward awkward“ SAME SKSKSLSKDJ, that‘s literally me 24/7 ahajshshhshshsh. Like i was so skdjdjdkdllsldksnsnsnsb while i read what you sent me djslslsjdjdbdn why are old ladies always so grumpy btw 🥲🥲🥲 at least the man was nice tho! and wait did i read that right... you have fries (which, to me, are called chips dusuusldk) at your cinemas?? (Movie theatres sorry sksjsh) we just have popcorn and nachos and drinks i want chips too when i‘m watching a film what😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺

Also i still haven’t watched it so thanks for not spoiling it!!! (idk when i’ll watch it i’m so bad with films and even worse with series💀💀💀- same with cherry. i literally forgot all about cherry, i was SO hyped when the trailer came out like i’ve never been so excited about a movie... and then it came out... and i still haven‘t watch it like what‘s wrong with me???? Dkdjdjdjdklsl i feel like i‘m not gonna watch it anytime soon tbh, but i wanna watch chaos walking i just have to find the time

Okay and @ your other friend who wasn‘t paying attention like why are you even watching the film then???? but ok (omg this sounds so mean i‘m sure she‘s very nice but in this situation just like❔❔❔)

SIMS ahhh, BUNK BEDS, ahhhh sdljdjdjdkdkdldksj i actually haven‘t played it since the update 🤧🤧 i made both of my sims (enisa (bestselling author already, thank you) and michael (aspiring doctor)) go to university and bro it takes so long 😭😭 and you can‘t do anything else if you want them to do well so literally the last three times i played sims i was just constantly clicking their homework and computerd to write their assignments (i play it in german so idk what its called on the sims) and do their presentations and do them all over again so that they get better or whatever for HOURS, but imma play again soon

also i‘m living my fanfiction life loool, so i made my two sims neighbours (on the same plot tho but i made two small separate houses lol, i still wanted to control both of them at the same time but i made sure they didn‘t interact before i wanted them to skdjdjdk). and first they both experimented and got some experience in the love department you know (all genders, cause i have to live my sexuality even in a pc game slskdjh— wait, i‘ve never lived my sexuality irl like i‘ve done NOTHING nothing with guys nothing with girls (🥲) but maybe that’s why i want to do it even more in the sims) and then they met at uni and realised like hey we‘re neighbours and now they‘re together (but michael accidentally had an alien baby with another woman (who was an alien which i was not aware of) cause i wasn‘t paying attention like i said woohoo not try for baby like michael why is your pull out game so weak tf LSHDDHDJDJSKKDKSKDKS okay but making out and flirting and doing all the fun stuff in the sims turns me on way more than it should PFAHAHHAHSH) so idk why i told you this but I’m creating that neighbour!au in the sims lmaoooo

i did not have to google Rindfleischetikettierungs��berwachungsübertragungsaufgabengesetz (just did it again😌 sisjshhs) but i might have mixed up the words überwachung und übertragung or i might have even forgotten a word skskks but in the end it doesn‘t matter (by linkin park- ok i‘m so sorry it‘s 2 am and i have a headache from having waveformers in my hair all day but i still wanted to reply to this now so sorry if i‘m not making any sense right nowbahahshah)

i wanted to be a mermaid too dldjdksksj like h2O and all those series convinced me i could be one like. i remember i‘d always go in the deep pool and attempt to swim like them in all the series with that wave motion i must have looked so crazy with my goggles as well dkdjsksöksj (i was like twelve but still)

so mgk has two sides one is hip hop/rap which is like ~~~~ idk he has good and bad songs, but his latest album is like punk pop snd I LOVE IT SO SO SO SO SO MUCH, so if you like punk pop I’d recommend his album tickets to my downfall (i don‘t blame yoj if you don‘t like it tho like about a year ago i would have HATED that type of music dkdkdkkd)🥴

Okay talking about music, there‘s this german rapper and he is... not a good person. he‘s literally a criminal and extremely sexist but to me he‘s still hot???????? he‘s even cute at times even tho he has tattoos everywhere and is like 6‘5 and is super aggressive but i see him and i‘m like 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 my heart beats only for you💘💘💘💘and he released a new song today and i watched the video and i‘m wondering wtf is wrong with me 😃 (he did look particularly cute cause he was high so idk he wasn’t really aggressive in this one) 😭 so i thought i‘d share that LMAO IDK

(not saying tattoos aren‘t cute btw i LOVE tattoos imma get some soon, but you know he looks like someone your grandma would be afraid of (and in his case rightfully so💀)

okay wait i‘m getting so tired it‘s 2 am i think i‘ll have to do the rest tomorrow but i wanted to do it now😭🥺🥺 see you tomorrow

it is now 3:42 am and i couldn‘t sleep so here we go again

girl you can laugh at me for liking justin tho skskks i wanna laugh at myself idk, like i said i really really really liked him a few years go, basically my life was at least 50% justin and then he went on a break for a while and released an album last year which i hated 🥴 but this album is wow. (Still weird to me because it‘s literally the definition of pop and i don‘t ever listen to pop?) and it‘s so weird because i used to know so much about justin and had so many friends who loved him as well and now it‘s like I’m listening to someone new? Don‘t get me wrong i never KNEW justin and i never will and i‘m aware of that shahsh but yeah i used to be soooo used to him and it‘s like reconnecting with an old friend and you realise you don‘t know that friend anymore- like you don‘t know them anymore at all. I mean justin is weird nowadays 😂😂😂 so pls laugh at me tbh dskksjsjsh

awww it‘s so wholesome that you gave your mom tickets to the concert 🥺🥺🥺🥺 i gave my mum tickets for pink like 2 years ago and she loved it so much and i was like 🥰🥰🥰 (i went with her) AND OMG GLEE ok so unfortunately i barely remember glee, but i used to watch it too!!!! And it‘s actually on my list of series i wanna watch (again) so youre making me want to watch it even more (but like i said i‘m bad with series so 😩😩😩 who knows when i‘ll rewatch it)

When all this pandemic shit is over (let‘s be hopeful <3333) then you need to go to as many concerts as possible!!!!! i‘ve been to SO MANY and it‘s literally one of the things in my life i‘m the most grateful for, concerts are some of the best experiences i‘ve ever had in my life especially the ones that are in smaller concert halls where you can feeeel the vibe and everyone‘s energy (and that sounds awful thinking about it mid-pandemic 😐) anyway—

Okay omg you‘re absolutely making me want to watch hamilton right now like omg i WANT TO WATCH IT NOW but it‘s 4 am sodndkdldl

what you said about my peter fics🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺like omg i love these emojis they literally just describe how i felt when reading what you said so, yes, 🥰🥺 + thank you :) it really means a lot <3

and no omg i totally get the studying thing. like last year before i graduated .. was that last year? yes wtf omg okaykdjdj, so the last three months before i had my final exams we were just in a lockdown and we didn‘t even have online classes. We had nothing except one teacher who left our group chat (😭) because she was mad at us (?) and one maths teacher who did an online ““lesson““ once a week. he‘d ask: so does anyone have questions. us: . Him: okay, bye then. So. Yeah dndldldj. But we had one online test and it was in german and like i read the book wee were supposed to read? but the questions on the test were all unanswerable (is that a word?) and i had to google everything (got an A tho 🤪 but only because i googled everything so i was so scared that i wouldn‘t be able to get a good result on the final exam because what if i‘d gotten used to just googling everything and i couldn‘t do it by myself anymore? anyway it was all fine in the end but yeah at times i couldn‘t even study because i had so much anxiety about studying and yeah- like this whole annoying cycle. but you said you‘re still studying———- okay wait 👁👄👁 i forgot what i was going to say??????????????????????????????????????????????????? Like wtf. Is wrong with me? And i‘m reading what you wrote again and i just don‘t know what i was going to say? Like i get what you‘re saying obviously but i‘m like? Idk 4am brain ayeee, please vent more if you need to and elaborate further because right now i‘m???? Too dumb to respond to this right now wtf. I‘m so sorry lmao ddlkdjdjd what is even going on like i‘m sitting here open mouthed just like ? But btw the fact that you have Voice and dance lessons is like SO FUCKING COOL like oh my god that is sosososos cool wtf, i was thinking that when you first talked about it too

And “i want you to chanel the knowledge within yourself of the centripetal force of the circle that is the table on this stage” ODHDKSLDBDJDOFIDKDNDLDK

Yes i know about the weather dkdkdkjd but it‘s getting (a lot) warmer here too and where i live we kind of get a weird type of wind called föhn (which literally means hair dryer but idk if that‘d the reason why it‘s called that, i‘m too tired to think of whether it makes sense rn) and it gives me headachesssssss and the changing weather is also giving me headaches 😭😭😭😭 so this season right now is just headache season and i hate summer so i wish it would just snow again lmao (okay it‘s getting so late that it‘s early already snd i can hear this bird chirping so fucking loud wtf i‘m also getting a headache 🤧🤧🤧) but at least i can do my new theme soon (i hope it‘ll look good🥺 and omg thank you for what you said about my current theme- i always feel like i‘m so bad with aesthetics, i obviously like my theme but i feel like every single person on tumblr has a theme that is prettier than mine so it was very nice to hear you say that you love it👉🏼👈🏼 (i‘m so used to it by now that i actually hate it lmao so it‘s getting yeeted soon and i‘m making megan thee stallion my pfp 🤪 (if the graphics and shit works out skdjdjdj)

[whentommymetalfie]

Lights On

A/N: A quick little one shot I wrote for the Tommy/Alfie prompt fest over on Ao3. Modern AU and not connected to any of my other works. Established relationship and lots of hurt/comfort. 

Summary: Every year on Bonfire Night, Tommy hides under the covers terrified by all the fireworks, this year Alfie is under the covers with him comforting him.

Tommy doesn’t acknowledge him. His breathing continues to come in erratic burst, wheezing out of his throat. Alfie strokes his hair

“It‘s just noise, love, just noise,” he whispers. “It’s scary fucking noise, I’ll give you that, all those bangs. But it’s just noise."

Pairing: Tommy/Alife

Wordcount: 1800

Warnings: ptsd

Never fucking drive in London... Alfie should know better by now and he thoroughly hates himself for this decision, as well as the one to ‘just swing by for some groceries’ despite working late in the bakery to prepare a dough. But his royal highness Thomas Michael Shelby will be most displeased if there’s no milk tomorrow and honestly, whatever his princess wants, he shall have. If only because it gives Alfie the excuse to say that exact phrase and watch Tommy scowl at him.

Right now however, he’s fairly sure Tommy would’ve taken his tea without milk indefinitely if it had meant Alfie would’ve been home on time.

Finally, he has to give up and park several blocks away from their apartment. And it’s possible the front tire ends up on the sidewalk, but that seems completely irrelevant at the moment. Far above him, the smattering of fireworks continue relentlessly. He slams the door shut using his foot, one arm around the bag of groceries and fishing for his mobile in his coat pocket with his free hand. The signals go through, but there’s no answer. Making his way down the street he starts typing out yet another text, despite the three previous ones remaining unanswered. Will be home in less than five minutes love-

“Oi, watch where you’re-“

He doesn’t even slow down to apologize to the highly offended owner of the voice.

Two minutes later, he’s standing outside their apartment, cursing and wrestling with the locks on the door, wondering who on earth decided doors needed this many fucking locks. If people are determined enough to break in and have gotten through one lock, why would a second one stop them? Would they suddenly fucking… give up halfway through?

Finally he gets the door open.

“Tommy, love, I’m so sorry I’m late. It‘s fucking bullshit this… was an accident on the A40 and I had to-“ He struggles out of his boots, leaving them haphazardly in the middle of the hallway. “Had to fucking take the tunnel, didn’t I? Yeah. Absolute fucking bullshit- Some people clearly shouldn’t be operating any vehicle more complicated than a bike.“

All the lights are on in the apartment, but Tommy is nowhere to be seen.

“Tommy?” He shoves the entire bag of groceries into the fridge -fuck actually sorting them into shelves, he’s got more important things to do, and then sets off towards the bedroom.

There’s a small lump in the middle of the bed, covered entirely by the duvet and several blankets.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs as he walks up to the bed, sinking down onto the mattress and rubbing his palm over the figure. “It’s okay.”

The lump remains motionless but he feels the slight tremors under his palm, can hear the hitched breaths. When he lifts the covers ever so slightly he finds Tommy curled up into a tightly wounded ball, knees drawn up to his chest, face tucked against them and arms covering his head. He’s not just trembling, but actually shaking violently, which becomes painfully clear now. When a smattering of fireworks go off just a block or two away, he lets out a choked whimper and winds his fingers into his hair.

“It’s alright, love, I’m here now,” Alfie says and lies down behind him, pulling the covers up over them both again. Then he curls himself around his quivering frame, opting for wrapping an arm all the way over his knees and letting him stay in his position. Tommy doesn’t acknowledge him. His breathing continues to come in erratic burst, wheezing out of his throat. Alfie strokes his hair

“It‘s just noise, love, just noise,” he whispers. “It’s scary fucking noise, I’ll give you that, all those bangs. But it’s just noise. Happy people who just want an excuse to play with a bit of… fire and gunpowder, but it’s all fun and games. And the worst that’ll come out of it are all those colourful plastic bits you find all over the city for days afterwards.”

He presses a kiss against the nape of his neck.

“You’re home, you’re safe, and no one in the world will ever hurt you again. Because I’m going to personally hunt them down and end them in the most painful way possible if they do.”

There’s a high bang right outside the bloody window and Tommy lets out a horrified shriek that seems to cut like a dagger through his chest. Then there’s another one and Alfie realises that whoever is setting those off is hanging out on the street beneath their flat. If he listens closely, he can hear the unmistakable drunken hollering of a few lads apparently having the time of their fucking life out there.

When the third firecracker goes off, Tommy starts crying. This heart wrenching, desperately frightened sound that cuts him to his very core.

And fuck it, Alfie might not be able to do anything about the entire goddamn city losing their collective mind, but he can at the very least keep them away from this small patch of street…

“I’ll be right back, love,” he promises in a whisper and squeezes Tommy tightly, before climbing out of bed and stomping over to the window. He throws it open and stares down at the street, where a group of five young men are having a grand ole time with a box of matches and far more firecrackers than anyone should reasonably have. Which of course must break all sorts of laws but he couldn’t give less of a fuck -as long as they’re far away from here.

“Oi, you fucking lot!” he bellows and successfully gains the attention of at least two of them -one wearing a spectacularly dumb hat with some print he can’t read but instantly hates anyway, and one with a slightly less dumb hat. “Fuck off with that noise will you?”

“Nah, you fucking…fuck off,” Dumb Hat Guy yells back. Now, that’s really fucking eloquent, innit?  

“Alright, this is the deal,” Alfie barks at them, somehow trying to burn Dumb Hat alive with his gaze alone. “I’ve got someone up here who can’t fucking stand all this noise. So if I have to fucking tell you again, I’m going to come down there and shove one of those so far up your arse you can fire it through your fucking mouth!” He does wish he was a bit closer -he cuts a more imposing figure face to face, he’s well aware. But thank fuck the guys don’t seem to be out for trouble tonight.

“Fucking fine,” Less Dumb Hat Guy bellows as Dumb Hat Guy starts dragging him down the street to join their three friends, who are blessing the neighbourhood with a terribly off key version of God save the queen.

All things considered that went easier than expected. Alfie shoves the window closed and quickly returns to the bed and Tommy, who hasn’t moved an inch since he left, still shaking violently and choking out heart wrenching sobs. He pulls him close again.

“There we go, they went away. I know I can’t make all of the noise stop, but it’s a start,” he whispers and rubs his palm over his side. “But it’ll stop soon, I promise.”

For a bit, there’s no change: Tommy stays curled up so tightly that Alfie thinks he might’ve frozen like that, the quiet sobs wracking his frame. Alfie just holds him. Holds him, shushes him gently and mutters soothing nonsense against the soft skin on the back of his neck. It’s all he can do for now. He wishes he didn’t have to know shit like that, but things are the way they are, right? So he’s well versed in how these things usually go. And he knows that right now, Tommy can’t quite hear him. Mostly just registers that he’s there, that he’s not alone. But there’s no point in getting into elaborate stories. Simply repeating that he’s safe, that he’s not alone and holding him is enough.  

Bit by bit, Tommy’s muscles seem to soften, and his legs relax enough for Alfie to wrap the arm around his waist instead. He places a hand on his chest, feeling the quick pitter patter of Tommy’s heart against his palm. Like a frightened rabbit’s. He pulls him a bit closer. Hoping his own heartbeat will somehow seep into Tommy’s chest and calm his racing pulse.

The fireworks continue to thunder in the distance.

“So, a lady came to the bakery today,” he begins quietly. “Wanted to buy raisin bagels. Of all the things in the world. Whoever began stuffing raisins into perfectly good bread should be charged for their heinous crimes against humanity.“

He talks a bit about the nerve of certain people. It’s becoming quite warm and stuffy underneath the duvet, but it’s a small price to pay. Whatever makes Tommy feel even marginally more safe is worth it. As he talks, he can feel Tommy relax further into his embrace. Finally he turns around to face him, burying his face in his chest.

“Would you like to get out of these clothes, love?” he asks then. “Think you’d be more comfortable.”

After getting a small nod in response, he helps Tommy out of his clothes and goes to turn the light off, making sure to first switch on the lamp on the bedside table. When he climbs back into bed, Tommy is watching him from under heavy eyelids, his long lashes still wet with tears. God, if he could, he’d go out there and personally rip the fireworks from each and every fucking idiot holding them, consequences be damned. A statement that when said out loud finally earns him a faint smile, even as Tommy still trembles ever so slightly.

Soon, Tommy is safely wrapped up in his arms again, face buried in his chest. Outside, another round of fireworks go off right nearby and like clockwork, his breathing hitches.

“Did I ever tell you about the time me and my cousin tried to build a hot air balloon and send his action figure to the moon?” Alfie asks and Tommy makes a noise that could almost be the beginning of a quiet laugh.

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, it’s an excellent, excellent story, so strap yourself in,” he says and starts stroking his hair again, raking his nails softly against his scalp. “So, me and my cousin, right, we used to spend a few weeks every year at his grandmother’s place outside Margate. Big fields and all that, and-“

It’s a long story. And once that is finished, he follows it up with another one, and another, as the fireworks outside continue to brighten the sky into blue and green and red. Tommy clings tightly to him, as if he’s drowning. Perhaps he is, in a way. But Alfie will do his best to keep him afloat.  

[meetevieinthehallway]

even if it was momentary.

in which harry is forced to watch his worst nightmare.

-

jeff has been studying his friend with his eyes— intensely, closely.

he’s scrutinizing him— narrowed eyes not of judgment but of concern, bottom lip pulled in and between his teeth.

harry has always been a peaceful guy with a b type personality that just went with the flow and shrugged when things went wrong; jeff would know— harry often laughed at him for when the manager freaked over small details: a smirk on his face as he chuckled and hit his friend’s shoulder, murmuring and humming with a everything is good, mate.

to save detail, harry is not an anxious guy.

which is why this circumstance is unreal to jeff.

because if harry’s not anxious in general? he’s even more laid back when his girlfriend is around.

he’s just so reactive to her: a mess of cheesy smiles and brightened eyes, attention never shifting from holding, listening or looking at her. it’s been this way since they first met; jeff would know— he was there when harry’s words faded from escaping his lips as his eyes flicked from jeff to behind his figure, where she had walked in, mumbling a woah, who is that with awe in his voice and widened eyes.

her grace and elegance was always the first thing harry had acknowledged. he’s always looking at her, drinking in her beauty and never wanting to look away—or separate himself—from her aura.

but she is here—kind of—right now, and harry isn’t smiling.

and he can’t even look at her.

it’s strange.

“mate?”

harry knows jeff said something. he doesn’t know what— everything‘s really blurred and muffled right now and he is unsure of how long he’s been staring at the floor and watching his tears splat on his shoes.

“h?”

this time jeff has moved physically, putting a hand on harry’s shoulder and harry has no energy or focus to even flinch at his touch. he’s been dazed since he got here and since he saw her; the only recognition he’s given jeff of his presence is that he stared at him with wide eyes, stuttering out a heartbreaking where...where is she? what...—where’s my girl?

“i know you’re scared.”

scared.

harry doesn’t like the word.

it sounds utterly boy-ish and diminishes intensity; scared is a word for minor fears, minor accounts of shock and surprise, not this. something like this is not a scary feeling.

it’s trepidation.

harry remembers that she taught him that word (his love was such a bookworm and was constantly using the most colorful vocabulary). he remembers her endearing wide eyes when she said it— how she’s never heard such a word that conveys such severe feeling between its letters.

trepidation.

not an adjective, or verb, or adverb: a noun.

this word was a noun: a person, a place, a thing that’s acknowledged and felt, and harry thinks that maybe that’s why it feels like something soulless has entered him—another being—and he imagines that it’s smiling at him evilly and taking pride in this pain and harry had no reason to believe that it would ever leave him—

trepidation.

a feeling of fear or agitation about something that may happen.

may happen— an unsure possibility.

this—where harry is sitting—is the unlikely, unsure occurrence that is witnessed every day in television or movies or news— it will never happen to you, oh never.

but it has happened to him, to her— and god does he not want to walk outside and be bombarded with questions when he just wants his girl, he just wants his girl.

this personified entity is much more than meek scary.

“but she’s gonna be fine.”

harry swallows for the first time in what seems like days.

“really, h. she is—”

“jeff.” his voice is a whisper. he looks at the hand touching his shirt and he sniffs, tears still falling as he swallows a second time. “they had to restart her heart.”

it‘s quiet. it’s really fucking— fuck, it’s too quiet.

the only sound is the beeping of the heart monitor—a slow, chilling sound that only emphasizes the seriousness of his words and of the tears dripping down his skin.

“her heart stopped.”

jeff shakes his head, fingers squeezes his shoulder.

“can you understand that.. that means mine did too?”

jeff sees harry’s eyes for the first time since he walked into the hospital. they‘re such a bright red—burning, flaming—but the salted water pooled in his waterline can not extinguish such a wildfire. he stares at his manager, his friend, with these eyes, and his chin starts to tremble.

“she—” he shakes his head, turning it back to face her. “she almost— she almost died.” he can barely say it, his voice cracking and dying so far down to a whisper that it is indistinguishable from the breeze outside the window. he breaks then, and jeff moves again, closer, pulling his friend into his arms. harry falls into them, his body only leaning as he sobs loudly, coating both of their shirts with salt and spit and raw devastation. “s- sh-..she did die.” harry’s hand comes to jeff’s shoulder to ball up his tshirt, shoving his face further into his friend as his cries only increase.

jeff’s eyes are teary, but he doesn’t let them fall—not one tear—he has to be the strong one right now.

for him, but for her.

“she left— even if it was momentary she left and— and... i—” harry’s body is limp and struggling to hold itself up, “she died. she was...almost gone completely and—” his voice cracks and he swallows the bile climbing up his throat.

“and i had to fucking watch it all.”

harry believes he will never feel more helpless than he did in that moment.

one moment he is holding the love of his life’s hand and whispering sorrowful pleads until he’s cut off by a loud ringing beep, cutting through his mind and the air.

and everything slows.

his eyes are widening in reaction to the sound and as he’s pushed away from her, and he’s fumbling to desperately catch her hand as nine doctors swarm her bed, the nurse pushing him back and away from her touch. he feels her hand fall out of his and to the bed, limp, as he’s fighting the nurse and he’s yelling—yelling—at the woman until he realizes that—

that they’ve attached a defibrillator and they’re announcing the commencement of compressions and he’s watching her lifeless body jolt from the shocks and the violent pushes to her chest, and it looks like she’s convulsing and he’s staring—

and he’s helpless and useless because he— that’s his love and she’s.. dying, she’s dying she isn’t breathing and her body is failing and harry is only staring with big eyes and his body and nerves have gone completely numb and the nurse can finally push him out of the door because he’s so limp and confused and terrified and—

and then he’s watching and screaming and hitting through a glass window because his body is no longer numb and he’s attempting to claw his way back through but jeff’s holding him back and attempting to calm him but he’s watching his love and how her body is lifeless and he’s screaming as he collapses.

he can’t save her.

he can’t save her from her own heart.

“i-i had to watch her die— can you understand that?”

although the issue was solved in less than a minute, it felt like a lifetime.

and when those seconds were up, when the doctors had walked away and she laid as if nothing happened—asleep just as she was seconds before—he sprinted to the bathroom and emptied out everything his stomach had to offer. he sobbed against the toilet seat like something out of a scene in a movie, head and throat pulsating.

and when he found the strength to stand, he looked at himself in the mirror.

she always told him he was a beautiful cryer. not in the sense that when he was sad he was beautiful, but that he was just as gorgeous even when tears cascaded down his face.

he doesn’t know what she sees.

because he looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw a red face pulled tight with anguish, skin blotchy and wet and he looked like an actual disaster.

he didn’t wipe his tears or even rinse his mouth; he only stumbled out and back to her room, resuming his position of sitting next to her and looking down. he didn’t take her hand into his this time, because he didn’t want anything or anyone to harm her, even if it’s his own touch.

even now, crying into jeff, he still feels the dryness of his mouth and the acidic burn in his throat.

jeff’s hands move from his friend’s back to find his cheeks, pushing his body so he can coerce harry’s eyes to meet his. although his own are blurry, he can see that harry’s eyes have deepened in redness, and he’s still sobbing uncontrollably as he refuses to look anywhere but the ground.

“harry.” he shakes his face slightly. “harry, look at me.”

harry looks exhausted when he looks up at him, eyes weepy and tired and drained.

“she’s okay. she’s gonna wake up and she’s not gonna leave again.”

“you don’t know that.”

“the doctors are sure of it.”

“how the fuck are they sure, jeff?!”

“they’re doctors, h. they know what’s gonna happen.”

suddenly harry flings himself back. he’s shaking his head, doing his best to glare at jeff with his sad eyes. “they didn’t fucking know that her heart would stop, now did they?”

jeff doesn’t respond. only cards his fingers through his hair and huffs.

“did they?!”

harry’s yelling now, and he doesn’t like yelling at anyone but he’s shaking and sobbing and jeff doesn’t look at him and harry doesn’t know who he is right now. his widened eyes flitter away because he can’t stand to look at him right now, because half his brain is apologizing and half is only clouded of his girl, and he can’t do it. his eyes fall to her face for one of the first times, and tears leak down to his lips as he stares at her.

there’s purple and red splotches dappled across her cheeks and eyes and temples and lips and he can’t decipher his emotions as he drinks in that she’s bruised and bleeding and cut. bile seems to stir in his throat as he realizes this— she’s hurt, and harry can’t do anything to help her.

he weakly lifts his hand up to the sheets of the hospital bed, his wet eyes darting across her face and her body as his parted lips breathe deeply. he doesn’t want to hold her hand again— because he doesn’t want to have to ever let it go.

his girl.

his poor sweet love.

he reaches out a trembling finger that finds her cut cheekbone, his knuckle caressing over the skin. he’s shaking; he wants her to feel him, to look at him, he wants her to know that he’s here and he’s not leaving until she can see that with opened eyes.

“h.” jeff whispers, breaking the silence and parting through the chaos of harry’s mind. “she is gonna be okay.”

harry’s heart is barely beating.

“what—” he breathes, then swallows, sniffling. “what if she.. she doesn’t wake.”

jeff sighs. “she will.”

“they don’t know when.”

“she will.”

“they said..—” harry’s eyes meet jeff’s again. “they said it... it could be weeks before she wakes up.”

“they also said that they’re confident that that won’t happen, that it was a cautionary to know.”

“that’s a hope, jeff, a prediction—”

“you have to have faith, h.”

harry turns his face to look at him, curls falling in his eyes. “i-i... i can’t.” he mumbles. he turns to face her again, his hand automatically finding hers against his will. he sighs, running his other hand through his hair, sniffling. “i can’t have faith when there’s so many things that can go wrong.” he shakes his head. “she went from a car accident, to- to flatlining to—...”

“—here.”

it’s silent as he whispers.

“she could not wake for weeks, jeff.”

his friend lets his tears fall, and doesn’t respond.

he hates to think that he may be right.

—

her body hurts.

everything feels really tight and dry— her eyes feel crusted as she blinks hard, her throat giving out a quiet whine. she winces when she attempts to straighten her legs, grimacing again.

she slowly opens her eyes; it’s dark.

it’s dark except for the light from the lamp on the table next to her head, partially blocked by a large bouquet of yellow roses. she furrows her eyebrows and her eyes flicker downward, her eyes widening slightly when she regards the iv sticking from her forearm.

her brain is racking itself for any recollection.

“what the—” she’s murmuring to herself, pausing at the crack in her voice, but then her eyes move further down the bed and they land on harry.

his head is next to her body and on her blankets, his body bent over as he’s sitting in a crappy, small hospital chair. his back is rounded as he breathes in and out, clearly asleep but not peacefully dreaming. his hand is limp and loosely holding hers, and she extends her fingers, staring at how his lips are parted into the sheets. his eyebrows are furrowed and his cheeks are red, and she moves her hand, extending her arm to brush a curl out of his eye.

she hates to wake him, but she’s so genuinely confused and the pain in her body is beginning to make it self known.

“h.” she tries to speak out but her throat is dry, so she reaches a bit more so her fingers brush his cheek. when she rubs at it and he doesn’t wake, only pushes his face closer to the touch, she sits up as much as she can, wincing, hand falling to his shoulder.

she’s shaking it softly, testing her voice by saying his name repeatedly until it’s close to a normal volume. “harry. wake up.”

he snuffles and swallows, moaning softly and his eyes press together before they open gradually, and he’s looking at her for a couple seconds until his brain realizes my love my love she’s awake she’s okay.

his eyes are then widening and he sits up quickly, ignoring the pain in his back as he grabs at her hand.

“lovie.” he murmurs. “you— you’re up.” his eyes are flickering around her face before his brain registers and he leans to press the nurse button beside the bed. he then moves closer, and he brings her hand to his face, her fingers moving to touch his cheek. “hi, baby.” his eyes are watering and she furrows her eyebrows, ultimately confused because she doesn’t like when he’s sad and doesn’t understand why he is.

“am i— are we in a hospital?” she whispers, throat cracking as she lets her eyes close gently. “why are we...” she’s shaking her head softly.

“y’got in.. in a really, really bad accident.” his voice is a whisper, blinking back his tears.

she’s fucking okay, she’s looking at me and holding me and knows i’m here and she’s okay.

there’s a pause before she speaks. “really?”

he nods, before he shifts closer, turning his face to press a soft kiss to her palm. he’s moving slowly, carefully, fearful of hurting her or acting too fast. “really.” he whispers.

“were you..— were you with me?”

harry shakes his head, sniffling, “you were on your way home from work.”

“you’re sad.” she says, index finger shakily moving to brush at his tear that falls across the side of his face.

“i...” he shakes his head, letting out a small cry and exhaling. “i-i’m happy.. i’m happy you’re okay.” his voice is breaking. “so... relieved a-and...”

she closes her eyes, wincing at the pain pulsing in her face.

“you okay?” he leans over and presses the button again.

“pain.” she whispers. “’s my leg. what...” she looks down toward her lower body.

harry winces, biting his lip. “broke your fibula. and uh.. stress fractured your tibia.” he reaches his hand out, resting it on the top of her head and petting her hair. “you got really lucky, lovie.”

“everything hurts, h.” she looks at him, eyes glassy and tired. “i—”

a nurse then rushes in with an apologetic look, moving quickly to get his love’s doctor.

harry turns kind of dazed as everything slows, a single tear falling from his eye as he brings the back of her hand to his lips. the stress his brain has gone through has caused his head to pound, days and days of migraines all beginning to be alieved because she’s alert and okay but he’s staring at her with soft sad eyes because she’s in so much pain and—

he wishes his heart would’ve helped her when hers stopped and he wishes his nerves could absorb all her pain.

“let’s test your memory; is that okay?” the doctor speaks softly and she nods slowly, her hand coming up to rub at her undereye, but she winces when she grazes a cut.

harry didn’t even think of that— but now he’s begun to. he’s seen way too many depictions of amnesia after an accident— and having her not remember certain details may be just as painful as watching her lifeless body jolt with the compressions.

what if she forgets memories they’ve shared together and what if she just thinks he’s her best friend—like before they started dating—and what if what if what if—

but her memory is in tact.

and harry can breathe.

he can breathe because the doctor says it’s an absolute miracle that she’s only broken her leg after an accident that totaled her car, that her memory is in tact and she has no after effects of her heart stopping—

her heart stopping.

harry looks down when he mentions that, his body shivering because it just continues to incessantly replay in his head—it has been for the time since it happened—over and over again and it’s freaking him the fuck out.

but she turns to look at him with widened eyes after the doctor leaves, and his eyes look at her softly.

“i—... my heart stopped?”

“yeah.” his lip trembles.

“oh.” she breathes, gazing at him and sitting up a bit further. “i—... was it bad?”

he grasps a hold of his lip with his teeth and his watery eyes only stare at her as he swallows loudly. he nods, before looking away, praying that she stops asking. of course it’s her right to know— but he thinks that he’s going to pass out if he has to tell her what he felt, what it looked like.

“h-how bad?”

“bad.” he whispers to the floor, head shaking back and forth. “b-bad.”

“y-you saw it?”

he squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a staggering breath.

she’s watching him carefully, her eyes widening as he’s desperately attempting to hide his sobs from her, wiping at his cheeks.

“you watched it.”

it’s flashing through his head again and it’s all moving too quickly and he wants to vomit but she squeezes his hand and he’s grounded again.

“is— ‘s not gonna happen again, right?—”

he’s shaking his head before she can finish, eyes opening to look at her. “doctor said it was pumpin’ a bit too fast cus your body was in shock so it kinda....” he swallows, “short-circuited.”

she swallows, blinking at him. she lifts her arm to reach to his face, hand falling to his cheek and rubbing it softly. his eyes are still wet and there’s a hint of wounded trauma in his gaze, and she sniffs. her arm falls and pats the spot next to her.

“lay with me?”

he looks at the space on the bed. his mouth opens but no words escape, because he doesn’t know how to say no.

“i-i...” he swallows, throat bobbing and a tear spilling down his cheek. “i don’t wanna... don’t want t’hurt you.”

she shakes her head. she takes her hand out of his and places her palms on either side of her body, slowly channeling all of her energy. she pushes upwards, her body lifting off the bed as she scoots herself over, pain shooting through her, and his eyes blow in size.

“lovie—” he moves to aid her in moving, wincing when she does “—don’t... lovie don’t—”

“please.”

her eyes are big and innocent and harry realizes that she is so absolutely terrified right now.

she wakes in a strange place after five days of being unconscious, with a broken leg and a crying boyfriend and her head is spinning because this is all so much.

“please...can you lay with me? j-just hold me awhile?”

her voice is scared and devastated and harry lets out a sob. she looks so fucking sad and so full of utter pain; he nods slowly and he carefully crawls onto the bed. he’s weary of her frame but he wraps his arms around her, her face leaning into his chest and her hand moves to hold onto his arm. he moves his face away before returning it, with a gentle kiss pressed right onto her hairline. his tears spill onto her skin and he sighs, cheek pressing to the top of her head.

his tears fall into her hair, dropping off of the tip of his nose as he pulls her impossibly closer to his body.

“i’ll always hold you.” his voice is a broken, sad whisper and she sniffs into his shirt.

her hand presses to his chest, and she pulls away to look up at him. he lifts his face and meets her gaze, swallowing, as her hand comes to rub at his wet cheek. she doesn’t say anything, but she kisses his nose, forehead tilting to rest on his.

“hold me til i’m okay?” her voice is shaking.

he sniffles.

“never would i let go.”

[okaybutlikeimagine]

I can’t get this idea out of my head and I was going to write it myself but I love your writing so much and your characterisation... what about Billy (after a couple of months or maybe a year of being adopted by Hop) getting the date he was adopted as a tattoo?? Because the date is the most important date to him (his&steves anniversary is a close second) and he wants to honour it

You’re such an absolute sweetheart, goodness gracious!!! ♥ thank you so much dear. i’m so sorry this took so long to get to, but i’m here now! And this idea is sO DAMN CUTE!!!

I’m just imagining Billy going out w/o planning it bc he really has to psych himself up about it, y’know?? Like… he’s been thinking about this for a long time. He had the thought about a month into living w/ Hop when he woke up late and trudged over to the table to find a plate w/ a couple of pieces of toast and his favorite raspberry jam along with a hot cup of coffee that looked a lot more like creamer.

“Have a good day, kid.” Hop had said with a pat on Billy’s head before he left for work.

It was just… small. Simple. Really nothing if he were to tell anyone. But… it made Billy feel so at home. Sitting across from El who was finishing off an Eggo silently before looking up at Billy and smiling at him. It made Billy realize he really did have a home. He had found it. And it was this.

And the day that he got adopted was kind of stressful. He was terrified that Neil was going to come after him for some sick reason. So fucking scared that he was going to catch him outside of the court house and hurt him. Nervous that he was putting a target on his back for doing this. He had refused Hop’s name because he didn’t wanna give Neil another reason to be pissed at him.

It was just such a difficult situation. So intensely worrying that Billy tried to shy away from it as much as he could. But...

But it was the day his new life started. And thinking about it always feels so dramatic and stupid to him but he can’t think of anything else but that, sometimes. He went from being scared every damn day of his life to being able to smile and laugh and joke around. Getting and receiving hugs almost every day. Making dinner with a man he’s able to call dad without feeling something sick in his throat over it.

It’s just… that day changed everything. It clicked him into the right place.

And now it’s been a year and Billy hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. He’s known for so long that he wanted to get this done but could never get himself to get up and do it. It always felt like the wrong time, or like he didn’t have any kind of valid reasoning or some bullshit. But he was up almost all night thinking about it and now it’s been a whole year since he was adopted and he just feels it. He needs to, he knows he does.

So Billy wakes up that morning, goes about his breakfast routine, and then gets in his car and drives. Goes out to the same tattoo parlor that he got his skull tattoo at bc the guy was cool and gave him a discount bc he liked his mullet and his car. It’s a few towns over bc Hawkins is a good, small town w/ no seedy places like a tattoo shop.

So Billy asks for the tattoo. Gets it on his forearm and gets a little dizzy with how sentimental it feels. The tattoo guy asks about the significance as Billy’s paying, but Billy can’t bring himself to say anything so he just kind of… grunts. The tattoo guy gives a disarming smile along with a chuckle that makes Billy walk out of the store as soon as he can. He gives a nod to the artist so he doesn’t look like a complete asshole.

And once Billy is in his car again, he’s breathing hard. The tattoo feels like it’s burning his skin, like it’s made of fire, just because it’s so sentimental. it‘s so significant and it’s there on his body forever and he just paid to make that happen bc he’s sentimental. Bc he can’t think of another date that means more to him (maybe the day he first kissed Steve… hell maybe the day he first looked at Steve… but that’s a different story)

His heart is racing and his leg is bouncing and his arm is shaking the whole drive home. It’s been a year. A whole year. The best damn year of his life and now he has something permanent so he can honor it. He’s overjoyed.

But once he gets back to the cabin, Hop doesn’t seem to feel the same.

“Where have you been?”

His arms are crossed, eyebrows low over narrowed eyes. It doesn’t strike the same kind of fear in Billy that it used to, but it does make him feel some sort of regret. He doesn’t even know what he should feel sorry for, but he kind of absolutely hates making Hop look at him like this.

“Out. I had something I wanted to do.”

“Right. Well El and I were looking forward to going out to lunch with you today.”

Billy’s heart drops. He feels a desperate need to go up in arms about it, to combat the hurt in his chest.

“Well no one told me that.”

“Yeah well… we didn’t really think you’d go running out like that today. It’s kind of… kind of a big day.”

Billy nods, doing his damned best not to fidget. His tattoo is burning with sentiment. Billy thinks Hop might be able to see how tense he is, bc Hop gives him a caring look. He’s always giving him caring looks. Like he’s his son that just tripped over the front steps.

“Don’t stress over it though, son. We were thinking of going to ice cream later once she gets back from hanging out with her friends.”

Billy nods and Hop watches Billy walk over to the kitchen. He’s leaning on the back of the sofa with his arms still crossed.

“So.” Hop starts. “You got a tattoo?”

Billy freezes for a second before continuing to reach for a clean glass in the cabinet.

“How do you know that?”

“Officer Powell told me he saw you headed that way.”

“Damn, do you pigs ever not gossip with each other? Holy shit.” Billy cusses with a slam of the orange juice carton onto the counter.

Hop gives him a look. “He was visiting some family out there. What’d you get a tattoo of?”

Billy’s heart is racing. “Nothing important.” He mumbles to try to counteract the gnawing on his arm.

“Really? You paid someone to put something that’s not important onto your body permanently?”

Billy growls at how much of a smartass Hop is being. He’s always being a smartass. It’s fun when Billy’s not totally nervous about being so mushy. He can feel it all start to bubble out. He’s so damn nervous.

“Yup.” He pops the last sound out of his mouth, but his whole act is so unconvincing Billy can almost feel it sliding off of him.

“Seriously, kid, what’d you get?”

“I just-”

“Because you know how I feel about tattoos.”

“It’s not that important-”

“Just trying to figure out if it’s something as weird as that skull on your arm.”

“It’s not weird-”

“Alright it’s a little cooler than weird, but still. What’d you get that’s not important-?”

“It’s today’s date.” It bubbles out of Billy before he can put a stop to it. Before he can hold the words down. He looks up from his orange juice to see Hop’s eyes get wider.

“I… seriously?”

Billy rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, don’t get too sappy about it.” Billy says like his heart isn’t in his throat right now.

“You got today’s date… because?”

Billy twists his mouth up. “Don’t make me say it.”

Hop lets out a little chuckle. It sounds involuntary.

“No no, I wanna hear why you’d get a date that ‘not that important’ on your arm.” He’s chuckling even more now. Billy’s fingers are tapping on the counter w/ nervous agitation.

“Because… because… you know why!”

Hop shakes his head with an annoying smile. “Nope, don’t think I do. I’m at a loss.”

“Because this was the best damn day of my life, alright? You know that.” Billy feels it all heave out of his throat like vomit, but just like vomit once it’s out, he feels so much better. all that pressure gone. He feels like now that he’s admitted it, he should fear it’ll slip away from him, but he doesn’t feel that way. It feels like now that he’s admitted it, now that it’s written on his skin, it’s solidified. No one can take it away from him. Even if things turn to shit, he still has the memory of this past year there on his arm and he’s just... he’s comfortable. Yes, he’s a sentimental sap, and he’ll knock the lights out of anyone who calls him that, probably, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t one. He’s glad he can be a sentimental sap now without fear.

He looks into Hop’s eyes and sees a wide smile.

Billy rolls his eyes again, mumbling a “shut up” for good measure, even though Hop hasn’t said anything.

Billy tries to get past Hop, pretending he needs to grab something when really he just doesn’t wanna see Hop’s face anymore, but the man catches him in a hug before he can get past.

It’s warm and encompassing and Billy is so immediately comfortable that it still fascinates him.

“I love you son.” Hop mumbles, chest rumbling with the words. Billy feels it in his heart.

“Yeah yeah.” Billy says from where his face is half pressed into Hop’s chest. “Love you too, dad.”

[kagehinataboke]

idk if you're still taking prompts... (and is totally okay if you aren't!!! you must have a lot already...) but IF you have the time AND I F you want to do it, can i please (with a cherry on top) request tdbk 1+17?? like maybe something in wwii?? like maybe they're both jews ot something along the ´the boy in the striped pajamas´ storyline, with todo as bruno (or maybe baku as bruno...) or maybe they're japanese and in japan... (1/2)

… i mean, japan was a big part of the wwii too. anyway, whatever is fine! i’m just really invested in the idea huh. but if you can, obviously!!!! no pressure!!! your writing is perfect!!!! (2/2)

first of all: thank you ❤️ second of all: HELL YES. YES. anon, you don’t know this, but i’m obsessed with history and have been wanting to do a WWII au FOREVER ;-;

also i listener to this song while writing and it increases the sadness level by about 100000% if anyone is interested

tdbk, [1] Historical AU and [17] War AU

***

“Are you still having the nightmares?”

“I’ve been doing the breathing exercises before bed.” Bakugou avoids the question, as he always does when Aizawa asks. “I think things are a bit better.”

That’s a lie. He still has the nightmares, and things are the opposite of better. But how is Bakugou supposed to tell his doctor that, after a year away from the war, he still has the same nightmare day after day? That it never gets any better no matter what he does? He can’t, and he doesn’t.

Every night, he goes to sleep terrified of the images that live deep in his mind. The memories that only come out in dreams. The nameless boy he doesn’t know, yet somehow knows all too well. The screams of that boy, which echo in Bakugou’s head for hours after he wakes up. The heat of blood. The overwhelming smell of saltwater. The smoke-filled sky over the murky Pacific. Fragments of things he used to know.

The only thing he can think of that will get rid of this burden is finding the person stuck in his head. If only things were that simple. Bakugou has been checking the records of every soldier in navy battle, but he can’t connect a name to the face that flickers behind his closed eyelids. Why can’t he remember?

After waking up in the hospital thirteen months ago, he could only recall three things: his name, his age, and that he was a soldier for the Japanese navy. Nothing else. Now, he’s regained most of his childhood memories, but his time spent fighting in the war remains hazy. He’s blocked it out due to severe trauma, the doctors say, but Bakugou wants nothing more than to remember.

“Make sure you come back in a month,” Aizawa tells him, as always, when he dismisses him. “And don’t go poking around the recruitment office anymore. They’ll think you’re well enough to be re-drafted.”

Bakugou just nods, pulls his hat low over his eyes, and steps out into the rainy afternoon smog. He’s got dark circles from lack of sleep, and he seriously doubts the army would want him back given his severe memory issues. It’s not like he chose to have his ship blown up or to get amnesia. Whatever. He doesn’t need to go back to the recruitment office, anyway: they won’t tell him anything. If he’s going to find this mystery boy, he’s going to have to do it alone.

He’s starting to recover bits and pieces, at least. The dreams, although horrifying, are becoming clearer. He can remember sights, sounds, sensations. The smell of the ocean. The feeling of a hand on his wrist, and the sun on his face. The smile of the boy with no name—the boy Bakugou’s heart aches for. He knows him, if only he could remember how.

That’s why he can’t tell Aizawa about the nightmares. He’ll try to get rid of them, and then Bakugou will have nothing left to remember. The more he dreams, the closer he gets. That boy holds the key to what Bakugou knew in the past. He’s going to remember everything, even if it fucking kills him.

His friends, however, think he’s lost it.

“You come back alive with nothing more than some scrapes and amnesia, yet your head is still living in the war? I don’t get you,” intones Kirishima, one of Bakugou’s old high-school classmates. He stayed back in Japan to design planes—helping the war effort in a different, arguably smarter way. It certainly didn’t make him any less annoying, though.

“You don’t get it,” Bakugou replies irritably, digging through the papers piled in front of them. “I’m not living in the war. You’d be frustrated, too, if you had things you knew you remembered but could never fucking remember them.” He nudges Kirishima roughly. “Keep looking. I know I’ll find him eventually.”

“How can you expect to dig through thousands of records with nothing more than a face to go off?” Kirishima whines, opening a new box to dump out piles of photos. “I obviously won’t know if it’s him, so how can I even be of help?”

“Use this.” Bakugou pulls a sketch from his jacket pocket and presses it to the table. It‘s the only thing that survived his trip to the ocean. He can’t remember drawing it, but it’s definitely his handiwork: A profile of the mystery boy, leaning against a ship’s railing. There’s half a smile on his face, and his eyes are peaceful. Serene. So out of place in a war zone.

“When did you draw this?” Kirishima squints at the paper. “Wow… it’s really good. You got better while you were stuck on that ship, huh?”

“Shut up and look, Shitty Hair.”

Bakugou spreads the pictures apart, but no face jumps out at him. Why is it so hard to remember someone he clearly knew so well? He’s so frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out. Where is this damn guy, and why does Bakugou need to get back to him so badly?

***

“Shouto, it’s past noon. You need to get up.”

Todoroki doesn’t stir. He keeps looking out at the sea, ignoring Fuyumi’s impatient presence at his back. The scent of saltwater is always strongest in the early morning. The harbor is already full of fishermen’s ships, heading out for a day of hard work.

Unfortunately, like the ocean, Fuyumi is immovable. “You need to get out of the house today. It’s been three weeks since you came back, and you’re starting to reek of despair.”

“Despair doesn’t have a smell,” Todoroki sighs, finally rolling over to look at her.

She folds her arms over her chest. “False: it’s what little brothers smell like after locking themselves in their room for a month. Get up. Bathe. Go to the market for me.”

Todoroki knows she won’t give up, so he pushes himself up, accepting the crutches she passes to him. She already has a tub ready, and as much as he hates to admit it, the hot water feels soothing on his aching limbs. They’re stiff after being in the same position for so long. Most of them, anyway. Todoroki has to marvel at the way the feeling in his left leg just ends at the knee. He’ll have to get used to it eventually, he supposes.

When he’s changed, Fuyumi gives him some money and kicks him out into the dismal afternoon drizzle. After the end of the war, Japan is healing slowly from its wounded pride and broken cities. Todoroki was lucky to return to his family home in Matsue, untouched by the carnage. If only his body and mind shared the same fortune.

The market is scarce with rationing still in place, but Todoroki manages to find most of Fuyumi’s list before he runs into a long line at the fish market. He settles in for the wait and picks up snippets of a conversation ahead.

“He’s raiding records and stirring up trouble with the army left and right, so much so that he’s infamous, even way out here.”

“What? All that to find one person? Kyoto men are their own brand of crazy.”

Todoroki reaches the front of the line, collects a parcel of fish, and heads home. His mind replays the strangers’ words. Kyoto is one of the only big cities unscathed after the war. Once upon a time, Bakugou had said he was from there.

Bakugou… Todoroki has been trying not to think of him. His name only brings pain. When they were separated at sea and Bakugou’s ship went down, Todoroki had minutes to panic before his own ship suffered the same fate. A slaughter, they called it. So many men lost to the sea that it was impossible to keep track of them all. Many are still lost, and even the ones that returned haven’t truly been found. They all left parts of themselves out in those bloody waters, Todoroki included.

He searched the records of their platoon and could find nothing of Bakugou Katsuki. It was almost as if he never existed. Todoroki would believe it, if not for the memories. They come on nights when the sea is calm and the sky is clear. Only good memories, which are somehow all the more painful.

Bakugou used to draw him. He was trying to be an artist before the draft, he said. He would only let Todoroki see some of his work, and never what he drew of him. He did draw him, even though he never admitted it. In every spare moment, Bakugou’s head was buried in a notebook, gaze trailing Todoroki across the deck, hand moving as if it had its own eyes.

“Shouto?” Fuyumi opens the door, which Todoroki has been standing in front of for a while. “What are you doing?”

Todoroki looks up at her, feeling clear-headed for the first time since returning home. “I want to visit Kyoto.”

***

Bakugou fiddles with a charcoal pencil. He still has to stop himself from using it. His fingers itch to sketch out the shape of familiar cheekbones. Of eyes that used to watch him. That still watch him in his nightmares. He’s afraid of what his hands will unleash if he gives them access to paper.

“Still can’t draw?” Kirishima sits beside him, an engineering journal in hand.

“No.” Bakugou sets down his pencil with a sigh. “Everything just feels so damn bland. There’s nothing beautiful here.” He’s not here, his mind corrects. He was here and now he’s not. He’s missing from me.

“You’re in a spiral,” Kirishima says. He doesn’t mean it maliciously, but it still pisses Bakugou off, even before he adds, “If you waste your life chasing after ghosts, you’ll always be living amid war.”

“What the fuck do you know?” Bakugou snaps, hugging his knees to his chest. He considers jumping off the train railing they’re perching against, but he isn’t suicidal. Yet.

“You’re stuck. That’s all I’m trying to say. This mystery person you can’t forget is like a rope. He’s keeping you tethered in a past you can’t even remember.”

“But he’s the key to remembering!” Bakugou snaps. “I know he is! If I can find him, I… I know everything will come back to me.” Bakugou’s hands clench into fists. “I’m not living in the past. I’m chasing it, but it’s moving too damn fast for me to keep up.”

Kirishima doesn’t say anything to that. How can he? Bakugou is sure he’s being clear about how desperate he is. One more dream and he’ll remember his name. Just one second longer and it will come to him. He can’t stop searching, or he’ll lose this part of himself. The part his heart won’t let go even when his mind has forgotten.

“I’m going back home.” Bakugou gets up, pausing before sticking the pencil in his coat pocket. “I’ll see you later.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. Instead, he pulls a sketch from his back pocket. Its edges are worn from constant unfolding, but the subject is as clear as when his unclouded eyes gazed upon it. There are thousands of other images like it living in Bakugou’s head, and he wonders now if it might be better to draw them. To set them free will be to experience them in the light of day. The light may be exactly what he needs most.

His hands agree all too quickly. Bakugou can’t rip new sheets of paper off fast enough before they’re filled with him. His eyes, his smile, his hands, his face, his everything. The pages spill across the floor, just like water spilled over the decks of that sinking ship so long ago. How his memories flowed out of his head and into the sea.

The sea… He lived by the sea, didn’t he?

Bakugou can recall his voice in whispers softer than crashing waves. My home is called Matsue. There’s nothing very exciting about it, but… the ocean is so close. When I wake up, I can hear it and smell it. The scent of saltwater is always strongest in the early morning.

Bakugou pauses mid-sketch. A stoic face looking out to sea watches him.

Matsue… isn’t very far away. If he’s alive, he’ll be there. He must be there. And even if he isn’t there, Matsue still might hold the key to who he is. And, just maybe, who Bakugou is.

***

“Are you sure you can handle taking the train by yourself?”

“I’m not a child, Fuyumi. I’ll be fine.” Todoroki lets her adjust the bag across his shoulders before nudging her away. “I’ll be back soon, and I’ll call when I arrive.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll see you later.” She hugs him goodbye, and Todoroki finally boards the train to Kyoto.

The ride only takes two days, and in that time, Todoroki has things to keep him occupied. He’s supposed to be studying his medical books to get back into school, but instead, he gets distracted by the paper tucked in his coat pocket. It’s a sketch of the ocean that Bakugou gave him for birthday. Fuyumi must’ve put it there. When he first arrived back home, he wouldn’t let go of it for a week.

Todoroki wonders what Kyoto is like. Bakugou spoke little about his home and himself. He always wanted to hear about Todoroki, instead. Perhaps Kyoto will reveal a new part of Bakugou. Or, with any luck, all of him.

The city is, however, not as Todoroki expected. It’s dark and rainy, but in a different way than Matsue. Kyoto rain is overwhelming and hard and doesn’t smell of the sea. Rather than wet sand and gravel underfoot, the city streets are muddy and antagonistic.

Todoroki wanders aimlessly through the center of the town, which is ablaze with activity. There are people as far as the eye can see, but none of them are the one Todoroki searches for. He should’ve come here with more than memories and a name, but it’s too late to go home now. If there’s one lesson the war taught him, it’s to always keep looking ahead. Literally, in this case.

“Watch where you’re going!” A stranger pulls Todoroki out of the way of an approaching car, which splashes then both with mud.

“Thank you,” Todoroki mutters after collecting himself. “I… I got lost in thought.”

“You seem lost in general.” The stranger pauses, doing a double-take for reasons Todoroki doesn’t understand. “Whoa, wait a second— Hey, weird random question, but you weren’t… in the navy, were you?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Oh. Oh man. I can’t explain, but you really need to come with me.” The stranger takes him by the arm. “I’ll tell you on the way. Actually, before that—do you know someone by the name of Bakugou?”

“What?” Todoroki’s heart skips a beat. He pulls the stranger to a stop. “Bakugou? Bakugou Katsuki? He’s still alive? Do you know him? Is he here? Can I see him?”

“Slow down. That’s too many questions. He’s here and alive, I’m his best friend, Kirishima, and I’ll take you to his place right now.”

“He’s… he’s really alive?” Todoroki presses a hand to his chest, feeling his pulse hammer against his fingertips. “You’re not kidding?”

“I’m serious. And from the looks of it, you’ve been searching for him as hard as he’s been searching for you.”

“He’s been searching for me?” Todoroki follows Kirishima down the street, feeling his heart slam into his chest. It’s been so long since he let himself hope… To think that Bakugou has been alive, and looking for him, this whole time is unreal.

“He’s been obsessed with finding you since he got back.” Kirishima glances at Todoroki nervously. “You probably don’t know this, but… he has severe amnesia. He regained most of his memories, but he says the time he spent in the war is hazy. Your face was the one thing he couldn’t forget.”

Todoroki wipes away a few sudden tears before Kirishima sees them. “Thank you. Thank you for telling me.”

“I just can’t believe I ran into you. He’ll lose his mind.” Kirishima stops outside a small housing unit and knocks on the door. His excitement noticeably dissipates the longer the knock goes unanswered. “Er… let me get the spare key.”

Todoroki takes a moment to cool down. He shouldn’t get his hopes up, even now. He needs to be prepared for the worst. But when the front door opens, his heart blossoms with nothing but hope. Drawings flood the room, lying across the floor in crests as big as ocean waves.

Him. It’s all him. Todoroki stares at himself on every page, staring out to sea, tying ropes, playing cards, smiling.

“He’s not here,” Kirishima says, bending down to pick up one of the drawings. “I don’t know what happened, but… I guess this probably confirms everything I said.”

“Where did he go?” Todoroki has to stop himself from grabbing Kirishima’s shoulders. Irrational panic is clawing its way to the surface. Todoroki has to reassure himself that he isn’t losing Bakugou again when he hasn’t even gotten him back yet. “Do you know why he isn’t here?”

“I’m not sure, but—“

“Oh, you’re here, Kirishima?” Someone new appears in the open doorway, shaking rain from his blond hair. “Who’s this?”

“Kaminari!” Kirishima practically jumps on the startled newcomer. “Do you know where Bakugou went?”

“Huh? Yeah. He went to Matsue to chase after that guy that he…” Kaminari pauses to look at Todoroki, then at Kirishima, then back at Todoroki. “Oh. Well. Bakugou is in Matsue, but I guess… the person he’s looking for isn’t.”

***

Matsue is completely different than Kyoto. Rather than being simply untouched by the war, it’s as if it never existed here. The people seem almost carefree; happy, even. Bakugou wanders the streets in wonder at the change. The war has touched here—it’s easy to tell—but things are already on the mend.

Bakugou finds himself in a crowded market, where rationed goods are being bartered for and carried away. His eyes comb through the rain, searching for a familiar face. He doesn’t find it, but he does spot someone who sparks the faintest recognition. He’s seen a picture of her before.

“Excuse me.” He startles her by tapping her on the shoulder, so much so that she almost smacks him. “Sorry. You just look familiar.”

The girl is about to brush him off when she does a double-take. “You’re—“ She cuts herself off; shakes her head, as if in understanding. “You missed him,” she sighs slowly. “He left for Kyoto two days ago.”

Bakugou’s hands clench into fists. She knows. “He’s looking for me?”

“He thought you were dead.” She readjusts the basket on her arm. “He only just arrived home a few weeks ago. Nothing would console him when he couldn’t find any trace of you. He‘s... well, he wasn’t well enough to searxh for you.”

“He thinks I’m dead?” Bakugou swallows thickly. He could ask her for his name, or ask when he’ll be back, but his tongue can’t form the words. “I have to go,” he mutters instead, backing away. She doesn’t stop him, so he turns to run.

He sprints all the way to the train station, the street passing by in a blur of moving feet and mud. He’s so distracted that he runs head-first into someone on the platform. They collide, Bakugou grabbing an elbow at the last second to keep them both from falling. “Sorry. I’m in—“

The world fractures, and Bakugou is suddenly back in the war. Not the violent parts, but the calm ones. The days where he would sit and sketch the same person over and over, but would never let him see no matter how much he begged. The afternoons where they played cards and swapped stories from home. The nights where they snuck into empty places and got lost in each other.

Bakugou‘s fingers have suddenly settled against his cheeks, holding his face up into the dreary evening light. His skin is soft and his eyes are lost in memories, just as Bakugou’s must be.

His name… His name is…

Bakugou feels himself smile for the first time in months. “Todoroki.”

He doesn’t recognize his own voice. It’s never been so soft. So close to breaking. But then again, he’s never experienced this type of relief before. The final pieces of his memory settle back into place, and his heart becomes whole again. The war that’s been waging inside of him ever since he woke up has finally been won.

Todoroki hugs him, his arms solid and achingly real. He pulls back to look at him, tears trickling from the eyes that used to haunt Bakugou’s dreams. “I missed you,” he says, so softly it’s almost a whisper.

Bakugou kisses him to steal the sadness from his voice. Then he kisses him again. And again, until he thinks he might know he is. Who they both are.

The war is over. This time, for good.

[theclawofaraven]

I Own You: Part 12 (Jungkook Fic)

As promised loves!! Part 12 is hereee sorry its a bit boring I promise it will get better 🙄💃💕

A/N I MADE A TERRIBLE MISTAKE I used Jongin in the hospital in the previous part, and then being the dumbass that I am I used Kai in the bar I guess I have a thing for Kim Jongin lol just joking, so the guy from the hospital is changed into Baekhyun. I HOPE ITS NOT TOO CONFUSING IM SOOORRYYYYY

I OWN YOU MASTERLIST

Pairing: Jungkook x You (featuring Taehyung, Hoseok and Yoongi)

Genre: Angst, Mafia

Words: 2361

Warnings: Jungkooks an ass and there's some swearing

Gif not mine credit to owner !

Y/N POV

I giggled lightly, not caring about anything as I felt Kai‘s arms sliding up my sides as I was moving to the music. It was so much fun as I just felt the rhuthm flow through my body as Kai pulled me closer to him.

I smiled and blushed slightly as he grinned proudly at me and he held me in his very strong arms. I had forgotten all about Jungkook as Kai moved his body with mine. Kai placed one arm around my waist and the other one on my hip as I put my arms around his neck.

He smirked as he moved to the beat a bit slower and locked his golden brown eyes with mine. I was very in the moment as I felt his hot breath on my face, pulling in for a kiss. Suddenly he smiled a little, a sweet innocent smile before he pressed his lips against mine.

My stomach started to flip around with butterflies as I locked my arms around Kai‘s neck, keeping him close as I licked his bottom lip. We still moved slow to the pumping music but it felt nice. It was comforting and carefree as I felt him parting my lips with his tongue.

I was more than happy to let him deepen the kiss as I actually noticed I enjoyed the kiss mpre than I thought. I let out a carefree sigh against his soft plump lips as I dug one of my fingers in his hair.

Kai moaned low against my lips and I smirked slightly at his reaction as I felt his hands roam around my body. He was such a good kisser as I felt my knees almost become weak.

Suddenly I felt someone pulling my wrist, yanking me away from Kai who looked up surprised. I tried to jerk my wrist away as I looked up at a furious Jungkook. I was just about to shout back at him as I saw his death glare.

I froze.

Kai gave me a hesitant look as Jungkook pushed me away and punched Kai right in the face. I gasped as he fell to the ground with Jungkook hovering over him with his gun pointing at his head. People stopped dancing and moved out the way as they watched us.

„Touch her again and I‘ll kill you“ Jungkook snarled at Kai who was now bleeding from his oh so soft lips. The same soft lips I had kissed just a few seconds ago. I was so shocked as Jungkook pulled my wrist hard and dragged me back as he put away his gun. The people on the dance floor pretended nothing happened as some of the employees helped Kai get up. I felt so bad for him as Jungkook pulled me back to the couches and pushed me up against a wall.

„What the fuck do you think you‘re doing?!“ He yelled at me, as I looked into his eyes, terrified. I was burning with both hate and fear as I tried to push him away.

„I‘m having fun! I was actually enjoying myself with someone for once!“ I yelled back but Jungkook only pressed me harder against the wall with dark eyes.

„You belong to ME, haven‘t you got that through that pretty little head of yours??“ He yelled once again and I shivered out of fear as his hot breaths slammed my face. Taehyung and the others didn‘t care that Jungkook was yelling in the middle of the club, or they didn‘t notice it, but what shocked me the most was the fact that no one payed any attention to it, as if nothing had happened at all. Jungkook had more power than I thought.

„NO I DON‘T! And what gives YOU the right to shove your tongue down some random sluts throat when I can‘t even kiss a nice guy who actually likes me FOR REAL??“ I shouted him right in the face as I felt myself about to explode. He stared ar me with those black eyes for a few seconds.

„You don‘t just fucking go around hooking up with other guys!“ he screamed at me. I just stood, frozen and pinned against the wall as I, was honestly fearing he was gonna kill me right then and there, this instant, without hesitation.

„If you don‘t knock it off I will have to kill you myself, bumper“ he said through gritted teeth as he punched the wall right next to my head, making me release a panicking scream.

When I opened my eyes I was met with his outraged face. He pulled my arm and pressed me down on the couch as he turned away and I let my eyes shoot to the floor.

I felt so bad for Kai and the way Jungkook spoke to me, it made me so upset. I glanced at my hands and saw that they were still shaking intensely. I started to rub them so the shaking would go away but it didn‘t. Jungkook had shouted at me before, but not like this.

Usually I could cope with his aggresiveness, but as he threatened me to death this time and called me a „bumper“ , I felt a tear slip from my eye and roll down my cheek. Jungkook went quiet all of a sudden.

„Are you crying?“ he asked surprised as I wiped the tear away.

„No“ I said stubbornly with a shaky voice.

Jungkook growled frustrated until he angrily yelled „AISH JINJJA?“

And with that he punched his fist into the wall once again. I jumped as the lous bang was heard as his hand flew into the wall, causing a bump. He then sat down and rubbed his temples hard.

„What the hell am I going to do with you“ he mumbled low to himself as he put both his hands on his head. I kept quiet as I looked at him, having an inner fight with himself as he choked down several shots of vodka he had in front of him.

A while later, he had calmed himself down a bit as so did I. I was sitting, looking down at my shoes, listening to the pumping music as Jungkook was leaning back, sipping on some whiskey next to me. He hadn‘t said anything to me in a while except some low mumblings.

„You know you‘re unbelievable right?“ he said in a muddy voice with a hint of sarcasm as I made a face.

„Whenever I turn my back at you, you always try to push my buttons“ he mumbled, as I kept quiet.

„And the worst thing is is that it‘s fucking working“ he said and sighed frustrated as I turned my head to him.

He looked tired, leaning his head back on the couch as he closed his eyes. Suddenly he fell over, bending over his upper body, making some kind of hurting sound. I jumped slightly at the sudden movement he did, as I watched how he was hunched over, groaning in pain.

„Jungkook, what‘s wrong?“ I asked softer as he groaned louder this time.

„My wound, the alcohol“ he moaned out as I understood. I looked around for Eva but I saw Taehyung instead.

„Tae?!“ I yelled as he didn‘t seem to hear me. I groaned irritated to myself.

„Jungkook, I‘ll be right back“ I said low as he just continued to make noises. I stood up from the couch and walked up to Taehyung and lightly touched his arm as he turned around looking at me.

„Jungkook isn‘t feeling good“ I said hesitant and pointed towards Jungkook who looked like he was in some real ass pain. I almost felt bad for him as Taehyung walked up to him instantly sitting down next to him. I was standing a few feet away as I suddenly felt someone grabbing me and twirling me around as I suddenly faced Baekhyun from the hospital.

„Y/N are you okay?? I saw him punching you“ he asked really worried and stared into my eyes with his dark ones as he held my shoulders in a firm grip. Jungkook hadnt hit me but I didn‘t answer him, I just wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug as I let myself cry on his shoulder. He chuckled a little bit and hugged me tight back.

„It‘s okay Y/N, I‘m here“ he shushed me as I felt comfort in Baekhyun.

„What are you doing here anyway?“ I said as I let him go a little so I could see his face.

„Ehm.. I‘m here with..“ he started saying as he looked around but just stopped talking and turnes his eyes back to me.

„I just wanted you to know what soon I will get you out of this, I promise“ he said and I was slightly confused.

„How?“ I asked as he looked towards Taehyung who gave me a suspicious gaze.

„Soon“ Baekhyun said and gave me a smile before he turned around and hurried away through the crowd. I turned back to Taehyung who waved me over as I hesitated. I didn‘t want to be near Jungkook, but because it was Tae who asked me, I took a few steps closer as he leaned in to me.

„Jungkook isn‘t feeling good, he drank too much and something seems to hurt but he won‘t tell me what“ he said and looked frustrated and worried.

„It‘s okay Tae“ I smiled softly at him, as he seemed to cool off a bit.

„We should head back“ he said dissapointed as he looked out over the club and over at Eva who was laughing with Hoseok.

„Tae, if you think it‘s okay I can drive him back“ I said. He looked at me with a hesitant look.

I have tried to escape back home before, but Jungkook caught up with me even before I made it out on the freeway.

„I promise I will take him home and nothing else“ I explained and looked at him intently as he finally nodded.

„Jungkook knows what to do to get the car out“ he said and I hugged him tightly. Taehyung had grown so much in my eyes. He wasn‘t a criminal to me anymore, he was a friend. I turned around and placed myself near Jungkook who was still groaning.

„Jungkook, I‘ll help you home“ I said softly, trying to convince him he could at least trust me this one time that I won‘t pull anything. He looked up at me and probably thought about it for a second or two before he nodded and stood up with a moan.

I knew that not much made Jeon Jungkook feel pain, so this must really be hurting him. I let his arm fall over my shoulders for support as he put his facemask on and I started to help him down the stairs, through the crowd of people who silenced as soon as they saw us, or rather Jungkook, coming.

I felt him tensing up, trying to hold his composure but I saw him bleeding from the scar that Minji had caused. We made it out to the big garagge as two men opened the doors for us. The bright light from the garage blinded me for a second as I wobbled slightly at the sudden dizziness. Jungkook gave me a questioning look with raised eyebrows as I just groaned irritated.

He dragged me, even though he was hurting, to a man that was standing in a fancy black suit.

„I need my car“ Jungkook said serious in his cold monotone voice as the man nodded abruptly and snapped his fingers. I heard how Jungkook breathed a bit unsteady as I actually felt bad for him.

I saw how he was concentrating on his pain and that was the last thing he needed to do if he wanted to stay upright and not collapse on me.

At the sheer thought of Jungkook on top of me I decided I needed to distract him. As he was looking away I placed my free hand on his chin and turned his face to mine. I stood up on my tiptoes as I gave him the most tender kiss I could on the edge of his lips.

At first he stiffened but it was only for a mere second before I felt him wanting more as he leaned closer to me, but I swiftly turned my head as he groaned a little, but not in pain, in annoyance.

The car suddenly pulled up as a thin man rushed out of it, bowing respectfully to the older guy in the black suit. He gave him back the car keys as the suit guy bowed and held out the keys towards Jungkook. Jungkook scoffed and made the man look up at him in both fear and confusion.

„She‘s driving“ he simply said before he let me go and walked up to his car, sitting inside the passenger seat. I was left standing in shock, as did everybody else.

Did Jeon Jungkook, the mafia boss, really wanted ME to drive his car?

Nobody, and I mean, NOBODY, was allowed to drive his car.

And I guess the same thought went through everybody elses minds as the man in the suit gave me the keys with a shaky hand.

I gave the man a terrified look as he just shook his head before he turned away. I took a deep breath and squeezed the keys in my hand. I walked up to the car and jumped in as Jungkook just looked straight ahead.

„Drive“ he demanded as I just took a deep breath and put the key in. I drove out of the garage and out on the big road and I felt my heart rate accelerate. This car was sooo amazing.

I could feel the engine spinning and the strenght of the car as I didn‘t realize I was speeding way too much, but I was actually smiling. I completely shut everything out. Jungkook, my problems, everything as it felt like it was only the car and the road in my life.

[joonsgalaxy]

a turning point

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: fluff?

Words: 1,7k

Warnings: swearing

Prompt: 21 "You're stuck with me, like it or not."  requests

a/n: this is kind of enemies to lovers, but i guess more like friends that hide their feelings behind sarcasm to possibly future lovers

You watched the last balloon inflate until it was big enough and matched the others, and then you secured it. It flew up and clung to the ceiling amongst the others of its kind.

The uplifting tune of soft music was floating in the air, filling the whole apartment as you stared up, evaluating your completed task.

Beyond any doubt, it looked perfect. Silver, sky blue and snow white balloons hung from the ceiling like a bunch of ripe grapes. Beautiful words—congratulating and complimenting—were scribbled onto them, helping to create the mood for the upcoming party.

Satisfied, you spun around, and swung to the music.

You couldn't possibly miss the distasteful sound that bubbled up from Seokjin’s throat. He was snickering as if seeing the most ridiculous thing in the world.

‘What? Never done a good job and did a little happy dance in celebration?’ You shot a glance down at the silver ribbons next to his crossed legs on the floor, and from the mess he’d created you deduced that, ‘Probably not.’

He waved you off, choosing to ignore your sardonic remark. He jerked his head upwards with a bored expression, trying to draw your attention to the ceiling. ‘Take a closer look.’

Confused, you strained your neck and narrowed your eyes to glide your gaze over the balloons. ‘What do you mean? Everything's perf—Oh no.’ That couldn't be real. ‘Oh no.’ How could it happen? ‘Oh no.’

Amongst the sweetest of words on the balloons, there was a certain phrase on one of them that was ridiculously horrendous and definitely shouldn’t have existed at all. How could you be so distrait and miss it?

‘I mean, I'm not judging,’ Seokjin spoke behind you over the music, ‘If that's what this party is all about, I‘m sure he'll be more than happy to oblige.’

‘You’re disgusting,’ you snapped. ‘Shut the hell up.’

As Seokjin's chuckle softly danced behind you, your fingers rummaged through the mess on the floor near the helium tank. You came up with the packaging for 50 balloons that were now all above your head.

“Balloons for a fun birthday party”

What kind of a birthday would that be, with such an obscene writing one of the balloons?

‘It must be a mistake. It's the only one like that, right?’ You inquired, letting your gaze quickly jump from one balloon to another to ascertain.

‘As far as I can see, yes.’

‘Okay.’ You strode across the room to grab a chair and set it down right under that hideous balloon. ‘It‘s going to be fine,’ you chanted in a murmur. It was a habitual exercise of yours used at times like this to alleviate your uneasiness. ‘There‘s enough time to make sure everything's perfect.’

The thing was you quite underestimated the distance between you and the ceiling. You reached upwards as far as you could, the muscles in your arm straining nearly painfully, but no matter what, your fingers couldn't manage to grasp the balloon. Climbing on the chair might have helped you if only you had been just a tad bit taller. The ceiling appeared to be exceptionally high. ‘Shit,’ you mumbled.

‘Need a little help?’ A mocking voice behind you spoke.

‘Go to hell.’ Accepting help from Seokjin? You'd die before letting yourself do that. He was too cocky to not use it against you whenever the opportunity would come.

However, you still had to get the balloon down before the birthday boy showed up. And so you tried out something else that seemed clever at that moment. You bent your legs slightly, focused your eyes on the target and leapt toward it.

Not only you weren't able to grasp the balloon, but you also nearly sprawled onto the hard floor, because your landing on the chair was dangerously shaky and extremely risky.

‘Hey now, wouldn't want to spend Jeongguk's birthday at the hospital, would we?’

You rolled your eyes at Seokjin's comment and climbed down from the chair with your unsteady legs and weak arms that felt a little numb now.

Not the greatest of my decisions, you admitted with pursed lips.

Still, one of your most admirable innate traits was that you never gave up. This party would be the greatest yet. Jeongguk turns 21 only once! Your gaze stopped on a particular object in the room, and soon your legs started purposefully moving toward it.

However, as you marched toward the table that sat by one of the white walls you were interrupted by Seokjin's gruff warning. ‘Don‘t even think about it. You'll ruin the flooring.’

‘You suddenly care about Jeongguk's flooring. Well, that's quite unexpected.’

He gave a careless shrug. ‘It‘s a new apartment. A pretty decent one.’ He made a show of looking around, stood up. ‘As much as I'd love to see Jeongguk scream at you, it would be a shame to see scratches here on the new floor.’

‘How nice of you.’

Seokjin tilted his head toward the ceiling. ‘I‘ll take care of it.’

I don’t think so. You protectively stretched out your arms, blocking his way toward the chair. ‘Don‘t you dare to touch my balloons.’

Exasperated, he sighed at your relentless tone. ‘No one else is here. How are you planning to get it down on your own?’

‘I could... throw knives at it.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, that's a great idea. Just wait a little until I get a hundred miles away from the building, ‘kay?’

You huffed in annoyance and glanced around for something else. Unfortunately, you came up with nothing, for the apartment was pretty much completely empty. How long could it possibly take to fully furnish a room? Three weeks and there’s only a table, a chair and a bed? Well, considering the fact that it’s Jeongguk’s apartment, it somehow makes sense.

‘Jeongguk—the hero—isn‘t here to help you out, not to mention he's the one those balloons are for.’ If you didn't know better you'd assume the rather bitter tone is his voice was a sign of jealousy. Then again, Seokjin was such a mystery; it was always so difficult for you to gauge his true mood. ‘You‘re stuck with me, like it or not.’

‘Oh surely, somebody will show up to help me sooner or later.’

‘Of course, you could risk waiting, but what if Jeongguk shows up the first one?’

You considered all the other options, briefly looking around again… and there were none.

‘Don‘t want me touching your balloons?’ Impatient, Seokjin spoke again. ‘Sit on my shoulders and reach them yourself.’

‘Only if you're okay with me crushing your head with my thighs like a fucking watermelon. You pervert.’

Seokjin scoffed. ‘Believe me when I say that my head between your thighs is the last thing on my mind.’

You grimaced at him, a childish yet wholly reasonable reaction.

His words prompted an odd feeling akin to hurt within you. Strange.

Offended and annoyed, you capitulated and stepped aside. ‘Go get it then. Just don't deflate them with that sharp tongue of yours.’

Seokjin's lips curved in a victorious smirk, and he headed toward the chair.

You watched him climb atop it, push onto his toes and reach for the balloon.

‘Give me that.’ You strolled over to him.

‘Here you go,’ he said proudly and crouched down, pushing the balloon right in your face.

It blocked your vision and infuriated you immensely, forcing you to step back. The writing on the balloon was announcing “suck my ass”. Seriously, who would buy those on purpose?

You snatched the balloon away, and struggled with it like an angry kitten until the pressure of your knee against it made it burst.

Seokjin’s laugh echoed in the spacious apartment, and painted the walls in all the most spectacular colours. His twinkling eyes sprinkled some delightful glitters all around you two.

You absolutely hated it.

‘I was about to say you should keep it just in case,’ he said when his laugh eventually dispersed.

With only the music playing, the walls seemed too gloomily bare now as Seokjin stared at the scattered shreds of the balloon on the floor.

‘For what?’ You asked.

He lifted his gaze to your eyes and shrugged nonchalantly. ‘You could’ve sent it to the guy that stood you up.’

That surprised you. He remembered.

You offered a sheepish chuckle. ‘Yeah, I guess, he deserved that kind of thing.’

‘He sure did,’ Seokjin was agreeing in a heartbeat.

His gaze seemed uncommonly sympathetic now as he peered into your suddenly shy eyes. This kind of moments used to occur rarely and mostly unexpectedly. Nonetheless, they were a thing. You could never know with Seokjin. One minute he would be quarrelling with you, testing your patience, and the other he'd be the sweetest most caring person on the Planet Earth, leaving you completely confused and yet unmistakably warm and dreamy.

Footsteps could be heard from behind the door of the apartment. The sound of keys clanking to one another made your eyes widen in surprise.

‘It‘s Jeongguk!’ You exclaimed in a whisper. He was too damn early. The food wasn't prepared yet, and neither was the booze. There were no other friends except you and Seokjin, too. A precise recipe for a disaster of a birthday party.

Noticing your terrified expression, Seokjin darted across the room toward the door.

You could hear Jeongguk drop his keys onto the floor. He cursed in a couple of languages, and then dropped something else.

‘I‘ll keep him busy,’ Seokjin let you know, his fingers grasping the door handle. ‘You call someone and finish all this.’ His gaze skimmed around the room; his hand tilting the handle.

You stood there baffled for you didn't expect Seokjin to be so helpful and understanding. After all, he hated hanging out with Jeongguk alone. ‘Really?’ You asked, but he was already out the door, pushing Jeongguk away from the apartment.

‘What the fuck?’ The younger one protested, but just half a second later seemed to realize what all of this was about. ‘Oohhh, are you guys throwing a secret party for me?’

(( Something about the lingering gazes and warm smiles from Seokjin during the whole party made you think that it was about time you take another step—a big or a small one—regarding your relationship.

Finally, the lovely moments that used to happen so rarely would now progressively become much more frequent. ))

💖🌸 send me feedback :: masterlist

[twinkluffy]

[AO3] TodoDeku fanfiction recommendations.

Hi there, this your local shipper trash with a longpost for TodoDeku fanfiction in AO3. 

Fanfics with Smut/lemon will be rated with an “T” or “M” beside the tittle. I know we have people under 18 in the fandom and i want it to be a safe space for them (but I also know you little sinners will read it anyway because i was young once too)

all the link + summary under the cut.

Hamartia 

She boils a pot of water and blinks away her tears 

Oh my, oh my goodness!

He had been too absorbed in his own thoughts to even notice how dangerously close they got, young Todoroki had pushed his student against the wall and they seemed to be whispering, young Midoriya didn't look too freaked out and his face was definitely red. All Might watched as Midoriya's eyes softened and his hands came to rest upon Todoroki's shoulders, gasping when the other only pulled him closer for a warm looking embrace.

Oh my.

Clandestine [Rated M]

These dorms are a double edged sword, especially with the dual consolation and obstruction named Midoriya Izuku.

Crispiness of a fucking nerd 

Awkward boyfriends have to practice after their first kiss goes horribly awry.

Passion

When he was young, Shouto knew the meaning of kindness. Then he manifested his Quirk. He became Todoroki after this. He locked his younger, naive self in the strongest safe box his mind could muster. Then he met Midoriya and remembered who he was.

Tie the knot [Rated M]

Todoroki and Midoriya's Bedroom Adventure.

Red Rope [Rated T]

Todoroki takes up an ancient, but beautiful form of art to practice. Midoriya slowly falls into it.

knock it back [Rated M]

Midoriya reads the label and his eyes bug out. "I know he's getting old, but your dad's going to notice this missing."

He grins. "So?"

or they waste some expensive wine.

(nothing really gay about it)  [background pairs tsuchako and momojirou + sweet precious Kirishima]

If anyone had asked him what he thought he’d be doing at three that morning, Kirishima probably would have said “playing angry birds” or “making popcorn” or something. Definitely not playing wingman-slash-relationship-counselor to a hopelessly confused Todoroki Shouto.

And yet...

How would you feel 

It’s Wednesday morning when Izuku’s mother texts him to remind him about his cousin’s wedding coming up the following weekend, and it’s Wednesday evening, when Izuku’s back in his room after classes and has time to call her, that she tells him she can’t go to the wedding with him.

An arrow to a blunde [AU]

In which Todoroki Enji tries to screw around with Shouto's life (again), but fails to account for the fact that his son's boyfriend has both backup and determination to spare.

Land and sea [AU]

Midoriya Izuku never expected to be the victim of a plane crash. He never expected to be trapped with nineteen other teenagers on a deserted island, either. Izuku also didn't expect to form such a strong relationship with Todoroki Shouto.

Painting the night with the sun 

Heroism is not a low-risk occupation. Hospital waiting rooms are not pleasant places. Ochako's clothes are stained with her best friend's blood.

Today has not been a very good day.

Just a fantasy [Rated M]

Todoroki can't help but think about Midoriya even when things start to get hot. He wonders what it would be like if he were around for real to touch him. His imagination just goes wild with the thought of Midoriya being near him. 

from somewhere within

Todoroki wants. He always wants. 

Lace  [Rated T]

“Welcome home, Izuku,” Todoroki says. 

His radiance in the dark 

In other dreams, the words they pass between them were minimal or at least indecipherable, with only the whisper of each other’s given name over and over. But now, Midoriya looks in Shouto’s eyes, says his name, and says, What are you so afraid of?

fake it till you make it 

“Your d-d-d-date?” Izuku swears he’s overheating. He can almost feel the steam coming out of his ears. He’s lucky they’re the only ones in the room, because his face is so red, it could rival Kirishima’s hair.

“Yes. I would like it if you could pretend to be my boyfriend for the duration of the wedding,” Todoroki deadpans. “It would piss off my father.”

Up the wall

He was told love makes you weak.

Well, Todoroki would like to disagree.

I won’t just buy you a rose 

Shouto decides to visit his mother for the first time in years, and decides to stop at a flower shop along the way.

He freezes in place, and before he can move again someone is bustling through the door behind the counter, all messy hair and wide green eyes. It’s a teenager, a little shorter than Shouto but probably the same age. He’s got a wide smile and there’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek, which instantly draws Shouto’s attention. His fingers itch to rub it off.

Bedroom escapade [Rated M]

The sheets underneath them bundled and creased under the weight of their bodies. Midoriya grasped at the thin, white linens as Todoroki trailed his tongue ever so slowly down the other man's chest. Midoriya's back naturally curled at the feeling, Todoroki's tongue running over his lithe form and prominent ab muscles. Hands clung to Midoriya's waist, squeezing lightly as the younger man squirmed slightly. 

I wish i could say all these things to you  

Todoroki couldn’t help but want more, knowing his life means more with Midoriya in it. Wishing he could say how complete and whole he feels with him in his life. But willing pushing that aside for Midoriya to stay by his side for as long as possible.

Until one evening, a stinky dumpster cat aggressively entered their lives.

Plum blossoms

Todoroki visits Midoriya after an accident that takes a good chunk of his memory away, specifically his memory of All Might.

Luxury 

He knew it wasn’t a good idea, but he just couldn’t help himself. 

Study sessions

“My scar. Is it that bad, or something?”

The silence that followed was killer, making him wonder if asking was really worth it. Midoriya looks on at him with a mix of emotions before huffing out a sigh, sagging in his seat, coming to a conclusion. “You’re going to think I’m weird, Todoroki-kun.”

“Try me.”

Fight Club 

In his defense, Izuku would mention the fact that they are fifteen and that sparring with an extremely attractive male – it‘s just the adrenaline rush, really - is bound to result in this. Social media had taught him that much, at least.

It‘s just his rotten luck that his 'handsome sparring partner' happens to be his friend Todoroki Shouto. Which is entirely unfair and really bad for Izuku‘s poor rabbit-heart.

(alternatively: Midoriya fights his sexuality, inferiority complex, feelings, and his crush)

a burger and extra salty fries 

In his third year at UA, Todoroki Shouto works in a burger place, catches on fire and falls in love. Only two of those things are on purpose.

Or...Todoroki Shouto's exciting adventures in customer service.

Visions 

Todoroki sees the glimpses of the future that he yearns for and he finds himself afraid.

contemplation

"If I die first, could you cremate me?"

Or, in which Midoriya has thoughts and Todoroki is a good boyfriend.

Let it go [Villain!Deku]

He’s got him this time. This time for real.

Carnations and delphiniums

The awkward atmosphere had dissipated, and Todoroki felt a bit more vulnerable like that. Just him and Midoriya, hands intertwined, sharing some new unspoken secret that neither of them really knew what it was.

The Earth could have split in half right then and there, and Todoroki wouldn't have ever noticed.

Petals for you [Hanahaki au]

“You’re pretty.”

Shouto’s eyes widened, as he looked at the boy sitting opposite of him. Midoriya was staring at him with such concentration, that he felt overwhelmed.

just like falling asleep (or falling in love)

From the very beginning, Todoroki's always been walking on unsteady ground. He thinks of falling and he thinks of landing, and he isn't sure which he's more terrified of.

I’d fight for you

“What the hell is this?” Todoroki shot up at the voice, causing Midoriya to lose his balance, and tumble off his boyfriend and back onto the couch. It would have been quite comical, had the situation not become deadly in mere seconds.

“You’re not supposed to be back yet.”

Look out your window

“Izuku.” Todoroki placed a kiss on the tip of Midoriya’s nose. “Izuku.” His cheek. “Izuku.” His mouth.

They'd finally decided to call each other by their first names and Todoroki didn't know how he'd survived until now not saying it.

He leaned down and kissed Midoriya again. “Izuku.”

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