#like I took the picture and then THAT comes out

[81pastrys]

Lost at a Race

Summary— when Lando’s wife goes on a business trip, he has to bring his little girl to the paddock with him. However, when he got distracted she wondered off.

Warnings— none

A/N— I was inspired by someone else’s fic, if I find it I will be tagging the original!! I added a little Carbono too.

Lando didn’t like his wife’s idea of having his little girl at the paddock without her, but he had no choice. She was out for a business trip and he had free practices to do. When it came down to it he took his eyes off her for not even 10 seconds and she was gone.

“Where did she go?” He asked, slightly panicked. Hoping she just went to Oscar’s side of the garage. “I just had her next to me.” He went on. Oscar noticed his panicked teammate and trotted over.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, mate.” Oscar stated. Then it hit him, where’s little Norris? “Wait, where’s your daughter?” His eyes widened and they split up to look for the little girl.

The garage hadn’t noticed their drivers disappear, let alone scrambling around looking for a toddler. When they did, the drivers were already jogging from garage to garage asking for her. “She looks just like me? Did she come in here?” Lando asked a Ferrari member. A shake of their head was all he needed to move on.

“Little curly headed baby, looks like Lando?” Oscar asked a RedBull mechanic. The guy looked towards the pit lane and then back to Oscar. “I need an answer Lando’s going nuts right now.” He spat out quickly to show the urgency. The mechanic shrugged his shoulders with a no.

However in the Williams garage, Carlos was holding the little girl. Her favorite uncle. He was showing her around and explaining things. Alex had joined in, seeing how adorable she was and couldn’t resist. “She’s adorable, Lily would die seeing me with her.” He joked.

Carlos took a picture of the three of them and it was sent to their girlfriends along with Lando. Lando had made it to Haas before he got the message, severely panicked and shaken up by losing his little girl. He had called his wife at this point and had her freaking out from a different country. “Fucking wanker.” Lando mumbled seeing the text.

“What?! Did you find her?” His wife rambled on, still freaking out. “Lando!” She yelled. He sighed before slowly making his way to William’s. He motioned to Oscar, who was confused seeing as he had no little girl.

“She’s at William’s with Carlos, my love.” Lando said defeated. “He just sent me a picture of him and Alex holding her.” He explained. She went on yelling at him about responsibility, she was so loud he put his phone on speaker, then turned the volume down. “I love you, but I’m at Williams though so I have to go get her.” He said tired of her nonsensical yelling.

“She’s not very happy.” Oscar mentioned walking to McLaren, leaving Lando at Williams hospitality. The Williams workers looked confused as Lando walked in like it was his team. His anxiety from his little girl missing was smashed by seeing her giggling in her uncles arms.

“Dada!!” She squeaked seeing him approaching. Carlos relinquished the baby to her father with a chuckle. “Uncle los!” She pointed to Carlos.

“Yeah?” Lando said with a smile. “I see uncle Carlos, sweetheart.” He nodded and she hugged his neck. “Please don’t ever do that again.” He whispered to himself sighing with relief to have her tiny arms wrapped around his neck.

“She’s a pleasure to have around.” Alex joined. Not understanding how the little girl even got into Carlos’s possession. “Why do you look so pale?” He asked Lando, who gave him a seriously mean look. Alex recoiled and walked off.

“Cabron, be glad she found me.” Carlos joked. “Liam would throw a tantrum if she found Max.” He stated, which was true. Liam wasn’t fond of anyone other than redbull employees strolling on in to their garage.

“I know, but she nearly gave me a heart attack.” Lando mentioned. He walked back to his garage and held her the rest of the evening until he had to get in the car. “If you lose her you’re dead meat.” He warned his trainer.

“Like you did?” Jon joked. The death stare he got was not worth it. Jon, in fact, did not lose the little girl. He sat in Lando’s driver room with her while they watched free practice.

Lost - Carlos pov

Carlos had went to Ferrari to wish Charles and Lewis luck during the practice. On his way back to Williams he spotted a little head with curls. He stopped and crouched down. “Los!” She squealed. Of course, McLaren and Ferrari were right next to each other. “Dada’s in there.” She explained in toddler babble. She was right near the exit of McLaren, how she got through the maze of an exit he’ll never know.

“Is he sobrina?” He asked. He picked the little girl up and went on his way to the Williams garage. He didn’t think it was too big of a deal. He showed her his helmet and Alex’s side of the garage. “This is Alex, sobrina.” He explained seeing Alex light up.

“Why hello!” He greeted her with a smile. “Sobrina? Is that her name?” He asked. The little girl giggled as Alex tickled her.

“No, it means niece in Spanish. This is Lando’s daughter.” Carlos explained. Alex had shown her his helmet and then they went on to take a picture and sent it to Lando and their girlfriends.

A few minutes later Lando was in his garage. “She nearly gave me a heart attack!” Lando explained. The little girl was returned unharmed.

Notes: ‘cabron’ means multiple things apparently, but it is used casually like dude in this fic 😳. ‘Sobrina’ means niece as Carlos mentions.

[pottersamor]

teaching / theodore nott

summary : theo teaches you how to please your boyfriend.

"you need to do better then that if you wanna please that boyfriend of yours, sweetheart." theo said lazily, manspreading on the leather chair in the Slytherin common room, a cigarette in his hand as he occasionally took a smoke.

you looked up at him, tears prickling in your eyes from your spot on the ground, hands around his cock as you sucked on it. his hand was around your hair, pulling it up into a ponytail. you nodded, trying to take more of his cock inside your mouth.

you had recently gotten into your first relationship, it was with a ravenclaw-and you knew nothing about anything intimate. so, what better way to learn then learn from your best friend? you and theo have been best friends ever since childhood, and he'd gotten with multiple women before. so, he offered to teach you on how you could please your boyfriend.

"use your hands for the area you can't reach." he said, looking at you with those dead eye of his. he would never admit it, but it had been a fantasy of his to come in your mouth, and even if he had to do it in this way, he didn't mind. atleast he got to see you on your knees for him, looking like an angel.

you obliged, hands immediately cupping the rest of his cock which you couldn't reach. he hissed, head leaning back onto the leather couch. "mhm.. keep doing that, angel.. so good.." he muttered. his praise caused you to heat up, a small faint blush appearing on your cheeks.

when theo looked down at you once more, he couldn't help but smirk. seeing you blush, because of what he said. not your boyfriend, no, him.

"y'know cazza, im starting to doubt you even like that idiot if you're here, on your knees, for me." he took a smoke from his cigarette. you wanted to deny, you wanted to pull away and say no. but, you didn't. you stayed in place, not even batting an eyelid as you continued pleasing him.

he only smiled, "you're gonna take my come in your mouth, 'kay? or, do you want me to paint your face with it? your boyfriend can see what you're doing." if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was jealous.

it was only a few moments after, that he pulled his cock out of your mouth, and before you could question why, he held his cock in hand, come spurting out as he painted your entire face with it. "theoo..!" you complained quietly. he smirked once more, "stay like that, pretty. i helped you, now, you need to help me."

you could only stay confused in place, before he grabbed his phone from the couch next to them, opening it as he snapped a picture of your beautiful, innocent face-tainted with his cruelty. "this'll help me for my own needs." he said, feigning innocence.

"you best be going, if you don't want anyone else to see you lookin' so gorgeous." you huffed, standing up. you fixed your hair and skirt, immediately heading towards your dormitory so you could clean yourself up.

what you didn't know though, was that theo had then opened instagram on his phone, going onto your page, only this time -not stopping onto your pictures to jerk off, no, but to find your boyfriends profile and send him a little something.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 20

This one is a bit shorter than the last 🫠

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 20 >>next(TBC)

The interaction between you and Nolan was still awkward. It was weird to see him this soft and you still felt on edge like you couldn’t quite believe all it took for him to try and do better was some talking to- Bruce didn’t even let you say more than a sentence in his presence, let alone get emotional about things and try to have a conversation about it.

Overall, the past week you’ve been kind of disassociating while working on rebuilding, occupying your time with that and helping Andressa take care of the baby, occasionally texting Debbie anything from updates to “I miss you”, to “I miss your food”, to cute pictures of the little menace being funny, kept you somewhat present-minded.

Your eyes drifted to Andressa, who has been aging more and more. Her movements were slowing down, she was getting more tired, and she was having more problems with her joints. You noticed that with everyone. The kids who helped you sometimes were now teens, the babies were slowly becoming toddlers, and yet your little brother was still in the baby range.

Andressa calling your name brought you back to reality. Your eyes meet as she sighs, sitting on an armchair while you keep playing with her baby’s hair, twirling it into spikes and horns. “I… I need to ask a big favor out of you and your family.” She starts softly, her finger tapping nervously. You stop and give her all the attention as she continues speaking.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Debbie’s day has been… better. It’s all getting better. Slowly, but she’s getting there. She wanted to be petty and give Nolan’s things away, but she had a feeling he’d be coming back with you and Mark, so she did the next best thing and moved his stuff into the smallest bedroom. Well, it was more of an office with a beat-up couch; he didn’t deserve an actual bedroom.

And in hindsight, she was glad she did. “Well… he is cute.” She concedes while smiling softly as the toddler cooed up at her, all coddled up in her lap. Her hand gently ran across his small back. Andressa just smiles. “Thank you. And thank you for wanting to hear me out and for letting me into your home. I know I’m asking for a lot, for way too much even considering everything- but Nolan isn’t exactly the best at being present enough for a kid.”

Debbie laughed at that. “Yeah, I know. Can’t count the times I had to step in for things he promised Mark.” You smiled softly as the two women got along, laughing at Nolan’s actions and awkwardness towards raising the babies. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it. I’ve gotta go back and make sure the men don’t find us plotting against them.” You joked while opening a portal.

“Bye, sweetheart, make sure your brother eats lunch! Oh, was Nolan scared of holding him? Because he was terrified of holding Mark as a baby- you should have seen him- I think I have some photos-“ You snickered, finally leaving the two to their gossiping.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mark and Nolan were too busy helping rebuild buildings to notice you and Andressa being missing. Granted, some men are the biggest gossipers known to mankind. “Yeah, so your dear daughter took a plate of these mini cakes and just smashed it across Bruce’s face- mushing it around. Lex was having a field day. It was so weird to see him so genuinely happy.”

“Is there video footage of it? I would love to see that.” Nolan laughs along. “Dude, there’s so much footage- Lex has like fifteen to thirty cameras in a room, he made compilations of it!” Mark looks at the smiling man. “He even had a camera in the buttons of his suit. He gave that first-row view of the cake smash to the highest bidder.”

“And he still shares the memes on his social media.” Your voice cut through their laughter, making the young man snort. “No! He still does? Is he set on never making Bruce forget that?” Nolan looks at his cackling son. “Would you let the man forget that?” His smirk only gets wider as his son beams with a no.

Nolan gently nudged you away as he told Mark to take a break. “We need to talk.” You pouted at his words while landing on a rooftop. “We talked.” Your grumble was met with a raised eyebrow. “No. We fought, and then you interrogated me about the Justice League.” He chides. “We need to have a serious talk.”

The old Viltrumite could see the nervousness and doubt in you. So, he wanted to make sure you knew where you stood. “I know my actions hurt you in ways I don’t think will be fully salvageable. I won’t try to justify myself, I won’t try to tell you that you’re wrong for feeling any negative sentiments towards me. You have every right to because you are correct in your points. I was a coward, I should have gone to the guardians and faced their ire. I should have trusted that you and Mark had my back.”

“No matter what, if you hate me, if you don’t want to see me again, you’ll always be my daughter, my baby.” The hand he put on your shoulder was warm and slightly shaky, betraying how nervous he actually felt. “I’ll always be in your corner, no matter what, no matter how hard you try to push me away. I’ll make sure to repent for my mistakes towards you, Mark, and Debbie for the rest of my life.”

“Stop it.” You sniff. “You’ll make me cry again. And damn right you’ll repent for what you did. I’ll make sure of it.” He smiles as you gently slap his arm. “I’ll hold you to it.” His eyebrows furrowed, asking if you had seen Andressa since she hadn’t come to check up on them in a while. “She’s taking a nap. Don’t disturb your baby mama, ass.” You roll your eyes while lifting off the ground, flying away as the man pouts.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Harvey Dent raised an eyebrow at the message he received, a shit-eating grin overtaking his mug. “Looks like our little magic girl is coming back to the planet in a few days. With a few stowaways.” Two-Face shows the message to Jason. “How mad do you think Bruce will be?”

Jason just gives the man an evil smile. “Very.” The young man almost purrs as he begins giggling, laughing as if he was snorting Joker Gas. Roy Harper just looks at the scene with a shaky smile. “Ok… I think I need someone to spill some tea about what’s happening.” Harvey just scoffs. “Take a seat if you really want to know. It’s a long story.”

Roy just shrugs, pulling the chair out and dropping into it. "I think you're just exaggerating there, law man." That seems to only make Jason laugh harder, creating doubt into the young father. "Oh- you'll regret saying that by the time we're done." Our favorite crime lord counters, snickering as he pours his friend a glass of whiskey.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou @asillysimp @aalunar @cxcilla @sirenetheblogger @pinkluv29 @br33zy-blizzardz @victoria1676 @of-poetry-and-dreams @djpuppy-kittens @wizzerreblogs @galaxypurplerose @burningkittenprince

[nitadllyss]

Cutness agression ɞ

Hyunjin x reader

Genre: Fluff, Headcanon, Extremely Sweet!

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

Hyunjin has a serious problem with cute aggression, especially when it comes to you.

• For example, in the mornings

"Good morninggg" you said without opening your eyes, still half asleep, smiling when you woke up feeling Hyunjin hugging you.

"AHH, HOW CAN YOU BE SO CUTE?!" Hyunjin felt like the luckiest person in the world for having you as the first thing he saw when he woke up. He cupped your cheeks in his hands and started showering you with kisses all over your face.

"Hyunjin, wait" you said between laughs, trying to pretend you were annoyed.

"Why?" Five kisses on your right cheek. "How can you be that...?" Another three kisses on your left cheek. "Freaking gorgeous." Lots and lots of sweet kisses on your lips.

When he finally let you go, you were dazed from the overwhelming amount of aggressive affection he had just given you.

"You’re so weird..." you gave him a look, but the smile on your lips betrayed you.

• Or at breakfast

You were eating together while watching a drama.

You were so focused on how the characters were fighting over the female lead, dipping your cookies in milk without even looking and bringing them to your mouth, surprised by the plot twist.

Hyunjin felt like he was going to die from love.

He started making whiny noises, making you look at him immediately.

"Babe, what’s wrong?" you asked, concerned.

"I’m going to cry because you’re so cute" he laughed while trying to continue his fake crying act.

You rolled your eyes.

"I literally didn’t do anything..." you said, not understanding his reaction.

"That’s why I want to cry! How can you look so cute doing literally nothing? I hatelove you so much."

Before you could escape, he hugged you from behind, holding you tightly while kissing your neck.

• Also, when you smile

That day, Hyunjin had brought you flowers without reason. When he gave them to you, you thanked him and smiled.

Big mistake.

"HYUNJIN, ARE YOU CRAZY?" you ran for your life. Hyunjin had just whispered, "I’m going to bite your cheeks off." What was wrong with him??

"Come on, please! I need to vent. You can’t smile that cutely and expect me not to want to bite your cheeks" he pouted while following you. He caught up to you.

"Hyunjin, what the hell…?" You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was so in love it was starting to get weird.

Then he began to gently bite your cheeks, leaving sweet kisses on them afterward.

• Let’s not forget when you wear his hoodie

After taking a shower, you went for the coziest outfit you could find to stay at home. That warm hoodie of Hyunjin’s looked so inviting, so you put it on.

"Are you trying to kill me...?" he murmured with wide, deer-like eyes, mouth slightly open, looking you up and down.

"Huh?" you looked at him confused.

You blinked, and he was already messing up your hair.

"AHGGG!! You look so cute. Keep all my clothes if you want" he genuinely looked like he was about to explode.

At first, you fought him off, but in the end, you just gave up.

• When you sleep

Hyunjin got home late from work, exhausted and missing you. He opened the door and nearly cried from love.

You were sleeping on the couch, hugging a Jiniret, your mouth slightly open, your lashes pointing down, a little drool at the corner of your lips, your hair beautifully messy.

If it weren’t for the fact that you’d kill him for waking you up, he would have already been on top of you, hugging you and not letting go.

He doesn’t know how, but he restrained himself. He just took a picture and set it as his wallpaper.

• But when you’re doing nothing, that’s his favorite

You were watching TikTok on the couch when, out of nowhere, you felt Hyunjin’s weight crushing you.

"AABSSBSBAHJABABAHAJABABW" he babbled nonsense and started biting your arm.

"Bro, wtf?" you looked at him amused. "Can you explain what’s happening now?" you raised an eyebrow.

"BSBSNDBANZ" he responded, then began kissing your face desperately.

"I just hope you don’t have rabies…"

( There are thousands of situations like this, but it would be an infinite post)

•When you’re cooking and he comes up behind you, trapping you and leaving you no way to escape while hugging you.

•When he sees you doing your makeup and can’t resist kissing your lips carelessly, just because your lipstick made him fall in love and he needs to have that pink from YOUR lips.

•When you come out of the shower and he grabs your cheeks for at least 10 minutes, making your face turn red.

•When you sneeze and he swears you’re a kitten. When you wrinkle your nose, he probably fainted.

•Etc.

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

English is not my first language, so if you see a mistake, please let me know. 🙏🏻

I'm just a girl in love with Hyunjin and his cute aggression attacks. 😭🫠

[hitomisuzuya]

husband scaramouche x fem!reader. head canons. fluff. soft!scara.

i really got the urge to write headcanons about husband scara, and how he would act with a pregnant wife. this is mainly cute headcanons. i may do the same thing with childe and aventurine.

when you announce to scaramouche that you are pregnant, he kneels in front of you and puts his hand on your stomach. "there is a cretin growing inside you?" despite his..unique choice of words, there is a hint of wonder and pride in his voice. once you scold him for said choice of words, and he tries again, he puts his ear to your stomach and says, "hello in there? are you a girl or a boy? whatever you are, i am waiting to welcome you into this world."

yeah, you definitely married him for a reason. looking down at him, your heart swells with so much love that you thought it might burst. this man, the feared balladeer, notorious for so many things is also your husband, the very same man hovering his hand so gently over your belly.

scaramouche would have this fierce need to be a good parent because he has already been the victim of having a shitty parent. there is no way he would do the same thing to his child.

that being said, he also takes being a husband very seriously. he even is a bit old fashioned about it. no wife of his would work if she didn't have to. of course, you could freely choose to work. he wouldn't stop you, but he certainly didn't have to like it. the way he sees it, his wife is strong, but if he can be strong for her, he can and he will. he is the protector. the provider and that was that.

his wife is the center of his world. he also married you for a reason. you don't let him get away with his shit. you argue with him, and back talk him without fear. you tell him what's what while still being patient with him. you have shown him qualities like being gentle and caring still exist. and he would burn all of teyvat and celestia itself if anything dared take you away from him.

whatever his wife wants, his wife gets, pretty much.

also, the kind of husband that says he doesn't want cats, but then you find him napping with said kitten sleeping curled up on his chest. you want cats and other pets, and he can't say no to you. but also know this, he genuinely enjoys having pets. you gotta know when to look at the right times to see them. moments like the one you took a picture of. they do happen. and often.

during your pregnancy, he is incredibly on top of things. he keeps all of your doctors appointments carefully noted. he makes them in advance on the exact day that they should be. if the doctor wanted to see you back in a week for some tests, the appointment was scheduled exactly one week later, at the same time as the previous appointment. he is incredibly particular.

really, the doctors and nurses have never seen anything like it before. this man would background check everyone if he could. twice.

literally fort knox level protection anytime you go out. there is not a chance anyone will come close to accidentally bumping into you. you had to have a talk with him about snapping at people he thought walked too close to you. twice. he struggles with improvement in this area to say the least.

if you have some crazy pregnancy cravings food in the middle of the night. it could be at 3am and he wouldn't care. he would be out the door getting it. in fact, man would start a war over it. "i don't care if that's what not you do. my wife is pregnant. i say you can do it, so you can do it."

when it's time for you to go on bed rest, he makes sure he is doing everything for you. if you needed anything, he got it for you.

when you found out you were pregnant, you also had this thought: 'god help the doctors and nurses working when i go into labor. i don't they will be prepared for scaramouche.' and you were right.

the nurses at your doctors office even put notes about him in your chart for the emergency room and hospital staff to look at in advance.

scaramouche makes sure everything is done straight to the letter. and that includes little things like your iv getting put in. he is even able to calculate the exact amount of time it takes for your iv drip bag to empty and is calling the nurse to change it. don't take this as being overbearing, he is just very nervous and scared. and this is how he deals with it. he wants to be able to help if the slightest thing goes wrong.

that just doesn't always show in the most polite ways to the staff sometimes.

the look on his face when he hears his child cry for the first time, and holds them for the first time is so soft. like he has seen one of the most beautiful things in this whole world besides his wife. it even makes the doctors and the nurses think that dealing with his colorful temperament was worth it just to see that look on his face.

[daddydixonscrossbow]

⭒ 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚕 𝙳𝚒𝚡𝚘𝚗 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 ⭒

⭒ Things I can literally picture Daryl doing [with the scenario(s) to prove my reasoning] - set in Alexandria

●☆● ☆● ☆● ☆●☆● ☆● ☆● ☆●☆● ☆●

⭒ Daryl would always make sure you are okay first

Once the dusts of the fight settled, Daryl looked for you, getting to you a quick as he can, “Y’okay? Hey, look at me.” He lifts your face to him, his hands running down checking for any bullet wounds.” You grab his hands, “Daryl, Daryl. I’m fine. I’m good.” You nod, “I’m good.” His eyes search your face, nodding as he reaches out to gently pinch your chin, “A’right.”

⭒ Pinching your chin would be something that Daryl would do all the time

When you first wake up and roll over, his fingers find their way to your chin. He gives you a gruff, “Mornin’” before planting his lips on yours. When you get ready to go out on a run without him, he’ll pinch your chin, thumb rubbing over it gently, “good luck, be safe.” He nods, “Y’hear me?” When you nod, he smirks, “A’right. Give’em hell.” He’d do it even if you’re just sitting around, hanging out. He would admire how someone like you could love someone like him. Oh, and he would always do it when he kisses your forehead.

⭒ Daryl would fully allow all hell to break loose if something happened to you

If word got out that you got hurt, he would be the first one to you, asking you what happened. Who did this to you. He would blame everyone for not keeping you safe. He would get in their faces, yelling and bitching. If word got out that you were captured, Daryl would leave right then and there, with or without anyone, and he wouldn’t stop until he found you. If someone wouldn’t tell him anything, he’d didn’t care about their life. He only cared about yours in that moment.

⭒ Daryl would always make a comment about Dog potentially liking you more than him

Dog took a liking to you right away, and ever since then, it seemed like Daryl had some sort of jealousy towards it, but he covered it up with humor, mumbling something along the lines of, “The hell, m’the one who rescued ya, not her” or “yeah, I like her better than you, too” you would always laugh, joking back by telling him to “be nice” and he would scoff with a half smirk while shaking his head, silently loving how you shower Dog in love.

⭒ Daryl would let you handle your own battles within the community, but the minute someone turns disrespectful towards you, that’s when he steps in

He would keep a fair enough distance while still listening in. He would smirk when you would bring out the attitude, glancing over to watch you stand your ground. He loved when you put people in their place, he found it attractive that you could hold your own, “I don’t give a fuck what Rick said, if he has a problem with it, he can come talk to me like a big boy..“ the guy speaks up, “Rick has bigger things to deal with right now, and your bitchy ass isn’t at the top of his list.” Daryl immediately stands up and starts walking over. You watch the guys face change as he steps back. Daryl walks up, “Don’t talk t’her like that.” He nods, “Go get Rick, tell’em I need to talk to him.”

⭒ Daryl would absolutely stay awake after you’ve fallen asleep, just holding you and taking in the moment

As you’re asleep, cuddled up against Daryl’s chest, he was awake. His hand gently running up and down your back as his other rests on your shoulder. He would listen to your breathing, taking in the smell of your shampoo, because it was a rare smell to have nowadays. He would just take it all in, enjoy every minute of you being there with him. Every time you moved or made a noise, he would look down, making sure you were alright. He was partly scared to have someone so close to him, knowing that it could all disappear in a split second, but that makes him even more grateful. Out of everyone, you picked him. He didn’t know why, but what he did know, is that he would do anything for you.

⭒ When he’s out on a run, if he sees something that he thinks you’d like, he’ll pick it up for you

You made your way towards the gate as you heard it being opened. You smile as you heard the rev of his motorcycle growing louder the closer it got. As soon as he stops and turns off his bike, he gets off, walking up to you. He would try to be nonchalant about it, but once he seen how much you light up when he gives you gifts, he can’t help but turn into a bashful idiot himself. He was already fighting back a smile as he handed you the necklace, “S’not much, but.. here y’go, darlin’.” You smirked as you took it, examining the small jewel in your hand before looking up at him, “God, I love you more and more, Daryl Dixon.” You lean in, pecking his lips and he bats the air, “Yeah, well. I love you, too.”

⭒ Daryl would definitely check your weapons and make sure they’re good before you even thought about going out

You would come downstairs to see Daryl sitting on the couch, your knife in his hand. You would walk up to him, leaning over, “Whatcha doin’?” He would shake his head slightly, “Jus’checkin’ out your weapons, makin’ sure they’re good.” He would spin the blade, “Ya sharpen these recently?” He looks over as you sit down and you nod, “Last night.” He smirks, nodding as he leans forward to set the knife on the table, “That’s good.” You lean over to him, informing him that he doesn’t always need to worry about you, but he brushes it off, “Can’t help it, jus’love ya, too much.”

I can’t think of anymore but if I do, I’ll make a new post.

Here’s a kiss for likin’ and rebloggin’ 💋

[nosyrobin]

Can I plssss get more baby reader! 🙏🙏🙏

Also I love your work, and have an amazing day!!!! ��😄

Sweet roses

Baby!reader x batfam/batboys

Genre: small fluff story

You babble sweetly at the face of your big brother. Dick can’t help coo at you, his eyes softly gazing over your small body. Oh how he can’t help but get cute aggression towards you.

Wanting to just gobble you up. Your chubby cute cheeks and sweet babbles as you lay on your back reaching for him.

Now he’s getting baby fever.

Damian walks in with a raised brow at his brother, coming over to see his adorable baby sibling who now smiles at his presence and giggle.

If Damian was a cat, specifically Alfred the cat. His eyes would dilate in adoration as he now just stares at you in your cradle.

“…they’re so..”

“Adorable!” Dick says, finishing the young teenager’s sentence. Damian nods, picking you up with such care. It was as if you were made of glass.

You stretched your arms at him, touching his face with those loud little giggles of yours. Damian lets out a small smile and starts to make silly faces. Completely forgetting the other brother in the room.

Dick couldn’t help but pull his phone out as you giggle more. Clapping your hands and kicking your feet around. Damian lets out a laugh as he hold you close, “You love that face?” He makes a silly face again. You laugh louder, putting your hand into your mouth.

You smelt like sweet roses, Damian tickled your neck. Making you cringe with laughter as you giggled more. Damian’s eye light up more, he knew he should protect you. And he’s not letting that promise slip.

With a quick flash of light, Damian looks over with a hardened gaze. Tim, Jason, Alfred the human, and his father were behind dick who was the one that took the picture of him.

“I’m so sending this to Barbara.”

“Like hell you are!” Damian yells before realizing you were still in his arms.

Damian looks down to see you look confused, letting out a sigh of relief at you not crying at his yelling. He sits you down as you babbled softly, wanting to get picked up again with stretched arms. 

Dick was sooner jumped by an embarrassed teenager who didn’t want that picture going out.

[inbabylontheywept]

I went to summer camp as a kid. Six times, actually. I have many fond memories, and even more terrible ones. Here's one that's a mixture of both.

To set the stage, I had just spent the night in the infirmary due to a big fight I had with almost my entire tent. They never wanted to sleep, and were always obnoxiously loud with a lantern dubbed "the sun" that let me see movement around me with my eyes closed from the shadows passing over it. I was sleep-deprived, overstimulated, autistic-but-unaware-of-that, and twelve years old, and I already disliked these girls because they talked shit about me behind my back and took advantage of naivety. This unfortunate combination lead to a blowout meltdown in which I said some things I regret, so the counselors decided it'd be best if I spent some time away.

Now, this had the unforeseen consequence of putting me in a place with less supervision. This place also had some strange bugs. They were small, about the size of my pinky fingernail. Most of their bodies were in their tails, which curved downwards like a reverse scorpion. They were black and white, sort of striped, with six legs and no wings. Their fangs were very thin, but long, extending out from their faces like brownish parentheses. They had a propensity to bite.

Perhaps you can see where this is going.

While messing around with these bugs, I noticed that when they bit, they didn't just chomp and leave. They sunk their fangs in and they kept them there for a long time. Naturally, I decided to see what would happen if I let them, nay, encouraged them to bite me, as an experiment. When would they extricate their incisors from my flesh? Would my reaction to the bites vary depending on the amount of time each bite lasted?

I let these bugs bite me four times, once for about 13 minutes, once for about 5 minutes, once for about 1 minute, and once for 45 seconds (I didn't have a watch, so these are estimates). Then, I forged a peaceful resolution with my tentmates and we went to watch the beginning of Color War.

Except, turns out it's stupid to let unidentified insects taste your blood. The bites swelled up huge. I got chills. My stomach hurt intensely. My counselor took me back to the infirmary to get them checked out.

Needless to say, this was not easy to explain to the nurse on duty ("WHY" "For science!"). His first thought was we needed to figure out what bit me. If only it were that simple.

We combed through the databases for insects in the state. We expanded our search to arachnids, even, although it certainly wasn't one. I drew a little mock-up on a Post-It to show him. There was not a single match. To this day, I have no idea what it was that I let bite me. I was given orders to come back tomorrow to get them checked by a doctor, and also return every morning and night for a week to put warm compresses and medicinal ointments on the bites, and a strong directive to never do anything like that again, with a side of "What the hell were you thinking????"

A couple of months later, after camp, I went to my friend's bar mitzvah. The woman in the row behind me tapped my shoulder. She asked me how the bug bites were. It was the doctor from the infirmary.

-- @dr-robert-chase-apologist

That was a beautiful ending. I have a similar story, but less gruesome than letting bugs bite me. My family used to go up to trips to the Mogollon Mountains two or three times a year. The woods were where my dad always felt the most at peace.

My dad used that time to hike through the trees. And I grew into that eventually, but when I was very little, I felt a particular kinship to the small things of this world. Worms and beetles and woodlice and those peculiar Arizona grasshopers with wings the size of jellybeans and tummies the size of my thumb.

And on one trip, there was an incredible number of these beautiful, fuzzy caterpillars. Picture below.

I went a little crazy about them. They were fluffy, and they were had pretty colors, and they had the cutest, softest, stubbiest little suction cup feets that I'd ever seen. Watching them climb up stalks of grass or over fallen branches was enchanting.

So I caught, like, twenty of them, and most got put in a little terrarium where I could watch them do cute caterpillar things. Mostly eat fresh pine needles and wriggle gregariously. But some I kept out just to play with. I'd put them on my palm, and I'd watch them crawl all the way up to my neck, then I'd move them somewhere else. They tickled, and I was charmed to be their jungle gym.

But apparently, those little hairs break off like fiberglass, and they have some kind of venom on them, so I had these strange, wriggling, almost tattoo like rashes all over my arms up to my neck. Very embarrassing to explain to my parents.

There was an entomologist on the street that I grew up on named Freddie. And he wasn't just a bug expert, he was specifically a caterpillar expert. He had a garden in his backyard that was specifically tailored for butterflies, he'd always draw in clouds of Monarchs during their migration. My parents asked him about the mysterious itchy caterpillars, and he said they were lophocampa ingens, and that I was lucky that I didn't inhale those hairs. They can stick inside your throat and make it swell closed. Scary little bastards.

I'd still see them after that, but never in such numbers. And while I appreciated them, I always tried to keep a few feet of distance. Just to be safe.

(Also, just wanted to clarify that I didn't remember the name for 20 years, I googled "irticating caterpillar Mogollon", and saw the picture. It wasn't until I read the caption that I was like oh yeaaaaah, that's what he called them. But it was one of those memories I could never have pulled at will.)

[canmom]

you read ML research (e.g. arxiv, state of ai, various summaries), you find an overwhelming blizzard of new techniques, clever new applications and combinations of existing techniques, new benchmarks to refine this or that limitation, relentless jumps in capabilities that seem unstoppable (e.g. AI video generation took off way faster than I ever anticipated). at some point you start to see how Károly Zsolnai-Fehér became such a parody of himself!

you read ed zitron & similar writers and you hear about an incomprehensibly unprofitable industry, an obscene last-gasp con from a cancerous, self-cannibalising tech sector that seems poised to take the rest of the system down with it once the investors realise nobody actually cares to pay for AI anything like what it costs to run. and you think, while perhaps he presents the most negative possible read on what the models are capable of, it's hard to disagree with his analysis of the economics.

you read lesswrong & cousins, and everyone's talking about shoggoths wearing masks and the proper interpretation of next-token-prediction as they probe the LLMs for deceptive behaviour with an atmosphere of paranoid but fascinated fervour. or else compile poetic writing with a mystic air as they celebrate a new form of linguistic life. and sooner or later someone will casually say something really offputting about eugenics. they have fiercely latched onto playing with the new AI models, and some users seem to have better models than most of how they do what they do. but their whole deal from day 1 was conjuring wild fantasies about AI gods taking over the world (written in Java of course) and telling you how rational they are for worrying about this. so... y'know.

you talk to an actual LLM and it produces a surprisingly sharp, playful and erudite conversation about philosophy of mind and an equally surprising ability to carry out specific programming tasks and pull up deep cuts, but you have to be constantly on guard against the inherent tendency to bullshit, to keep in mind what the LLM can't do and learn how to elicit the type of response you want and clean up its output. is it worth the trouble? what costs should be borne to see such a brilliant toy, an art piece that mirrors a slice of the human mind?

you think about the news from a few months ago where israel claimed to be using an AI model to select palestinians in gaza to kill with missiles and drones. an obscene form of statswashing, but they'd probably kill about the same number of people, equally at random, regardless. probably more of that to come. the joke of all the 'constitutional AI', 'helpful harmless assistant' stuff is that the same techniques would work equally well to make the model be anything you want. that twat elon musk already made a racist LLM.

one day the present AI summer and corresponding panics will burn out, and all this noise will cohere into a clear picture of what these new ML techniques are actually good for and what they aren't. we'll have a pile of trained models, probably some work on making them smaller and more efficient to run, and our culture will have absorbed their existence and figured out a suitable set of narratives and habits around using them in this or that context. but i'm damned if I know how it will look by then, and what we'll be left with after the bubble.

if i'm gonna spend all this time reading shit on my computer i should get back to umineko lmao

[revelboo]

Omigosh I miss the scavengers 🥺🥺 got me on the edge of my seat with all your fics!! It's such a shame they don't get much luv 😭

They’re goodish boys 18+

A Lifeless Ordinary Pt 21

Scavengers x Reader

• Helm pressing against the back of your shoulder, Spinister groans and you swallow a laugh. “It’s not that bad. Come on,” you say, awkwardly reaching back to touch his helm. “We can’t just hide in here all day.” Venting against you, he finally gets up, sliding his legs off the edge of the Medbay berth and just pushing off as your heart leaps into your throat. Can’t breathe even as he mass shifts and safely lands on his peds, flaring his rotors slightly while your heart races. And he’s turning toward you, completely oblivious to the fact that he just scared you. Reaching out his cupped hands, he rumbles at you when you scoot into his palm. “Clothes, Spin,” you say when he starts for the door and he does a little shuffle in a circle with you cupped in his hands before you point at where he’d tossed them.

• Bending to pick up your tiny coverings and handing them over, he opens the Medbay door and you squeak, swearing and clutching your coverings to yourself. Oh. Aware that the other Scavengers are right there staring at him and you, he turns so his back is to them while you hurriedly dress in his palms. And you swear again when Misfire drapes an arm against his shoulder on one side, leaning to look at you and Crackcase comes up on his other side as you tug your bottom covering up your thighs, face reddening. “What?” He asks as you turn your scowl his way. “What?”

• “Spin treat you right, Tiny?” Crankcase asks, grinning down at you fighting to get your top covering on. Hadn’t realized you could change color like that as you squint sullenly up at him. Trying not to think about what Misfire had done, because even if he’s a much more eligible partner than Spinister, he’s aware of the way you glance uncomfortably at his damaged helm from time to time. That it bothers you and he doesn’t want to be a pity frag. Suspects that’s what Spinister is. Why else pick him?

• “You’re not shy all of a sudden are you?” Misfire purrs, reaching to run a servo down your spine. Messing with you and seeing how territorial Spin is after claiming you. Rotors swinging slightly, Spinister just watches him. Making him think his little speech worked. That Spin won’t interfere if he or any of the rest of them flirt and try to lure you to their berths. And he wants to have you to himself. Curious about you.

• “Leave them alone.” Already tired of Misfire acting out and doing precisely whatever he wants without caring about the consequences. Because Krok’s sure that’s what the Seeker’s interest in you is- another impulsive decision. Doubts Misfire actually cares about you romantically, only the challenge you present and he hates it. It’s all harmless fun until you realize Misfire is just messing around and he hurts you. And that’s not happening on his watch even if he has to guard you from the rest of the crew and be the bad guy.

• Embarrassed on your behalf, Fulcrum watches you smack at Misfire’s servos when he ignores Krok and keeps petting down your spine. And you’re so small, fragile and unsettlingly alien. Wouldn’t have believed your two species were compatible if he hadn’t seen more than he’d wanted of Spin rutting against you. Unable to forget the wet sound of it, those unsettling noises you’d made. Can’t stop remembering the way you’d looked, head tossed back and lips parted, eyes locked with his optics as you took Spinister’s spike. It’s unsettling. Scandalous. And he keeps picturing it against his will.

Previous

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

Like Us

Where Y/N and Harry thought they had lost each other, fate gives them a second chance.

Word Count: 7,222

Content Warning: Cursing, alcohol, mentions of Zayn leaving.

Y/N had been with Harry through it all. Through the late-night calls filled with exhaustion, the frantic texts that barely scratched the surface of what he was feeling, the moments of silence where he didn’t have the words to explain what was breaking inside him. She had been there before Zayn left, and she was still there now, following him on tour like a quiet anchor in the chaos.

The energy backstage wasn’t the same anymore. Ever since Zayn had left, there was a palpable shift—like a table missing a leg, still standing but wobbling with every move. The crowds were still loud, the shows still electric, but behind the scenes, it was different. Unease lingered in the air like a storm waiting to break.

On his days off, they escaped together. Away from the arenas, the cameras, the questions. They did the kind of touristy things that made Harry feel like himself again—exploring tiny coffee shops tucked into side streets, wandering through museums with their hands intertwined, laughing at the ridiculous souvenirs in gift shops. She took pictures of him when he wasn’t looking, the city lights reflecting in his green eyes, the weight on his shoulders momentarily lighter.

But even in those moments, she could see it. The exhaustion. The restlessness. The way his mind was always somewhere else, thinking about something he wasn’t saying.

It was late, the city glowing beneath them as they sat on the small balcony of their hotel room. Paris had been a dream—long walks along the Seine, stolen kisses in quiet cafés, pretending for just a little while that the world outside didn’t exist. But now, reality was creeping back in, threading itself between them like an unwelcome guest.

Y/N glanced at Harry beside her, his gaze distant as he traced patterns on the rim of his wine glass. He had been quiet all day, his usual spark dulled by something he wasn’t saying. She knew him well enough to wait, to let him come to her when he was ready.

Eventually, he sighed, leaning back against his chair. “The band’s ending soon.”

The words weren’t surprising, but hearing them aloud still made her chest tighten. “You don’t know that.”

Harry let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “I do. Even if we don’t say it outright, even if we call it a hiatus, we all know what it really means.” He looked over at her, his green eyes filled with something heavy. “It’s not gonna be the same after this.”

Y/N studied him, searching for something—reassurance, maybe, or hope—but all she found was exhaustion. “Is that what you want?”

He exhaled, running a hand through his curls. “I don’t know. I just know I need… something to change. I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. It’s all I’ve ever known.” He turned his gaze to the city below, watching the headlights blur together in streaks of gold and red. “And if it ends… I don’t know who I am outside of it.”

She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his, grounding him the way she always had. “You’re still you, Harry. Band or no band.”

He squeezed her hand, but the look in his eyes told her something she wasn’t ready to hear.

“I think,” he said slowly, carefully, like he was testing the words as he spoke them, “there’s gonna be a break.”

The air between them shifted, heavy with unspoken things. Y/N felt the weight of it settling in her bones, but she didn’t let go. Not yet.

And Harry was right.

A few months later, the band officially announced their hiatus. At first, it was meant to be temporary. Just a few months to rest, to breathe, to figure things out. But as time passed, the months stretched longer than expected.

One night the rain tapped lightly against the windows of Y/N’s apartment, the soft hum of an old record playing in the background. Harry sat on the couch, one leg bent beneath him, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the ring on his index finger. He had been quiet all night, lost in thought, his gaze distant even when she spoke.

Y/N curled up beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. “You’re thinking,” she murmured, her voice soft.

He let out a small breath of laughter, tilting his head toward hers. “Always am.”

She pulled back slightly to look at him, her fingers brushing over his arm. “What is it?”

Harry hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip like he was trying to find the right words. Finally, he exhaled. “I think I wanna do something on my own for a bit.”

Y/N’s brows lifted, but she didn’t look surprised—just curious. “Music?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I mean, I love the band, always will, but… I wanna see what I can do by myself, y’know? Find out what my sound is. And—” He hesitated again, his fingers still fidgeting with his ring. “I think I wanna try acting, too. I’ve always wanted to, and now feels like the right time.”

Y/N watched him for a moment, taking in the way he spoke—cautious, hopeful, nervous. She reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I think that’s amazing, Harry.”

He glanced at her, his lips parting slightly. “You do?”

She smiled. “Of course I do. You’ve always talked about wanting to try acting, and your own music? That’s exciting.”

He nodded, exhaling like he’d been holding it in. The rain kept falling, the record kept spinning, and for now, they sat there together, wrapped in the quiet of what came next.

Harry was quiet for a long moment, his fingers lightly tracing circles on the back of Y/N’s hand. The rain outside filled the silence between them, steady and rhythmic, but inside, everything felt still—like the moment before something irreversible happened.

He finally looked up at her, his green eyes filled with something heavy. “I’m gonna be busy a lot,” he said, his voice quieter than before. “With the music, with acting… with figuring out who I am outside of all this.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, a sinking feeling creeping in. “I know,” she said softly, watching him carefully.

Harry swallowed, his grip on her hand tightening for just a second before loosening. “I love you,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “And because I love you… because I respect you… I don’t think I can be in a relationship right now. Not while I’m trying to figure myself out.”

The words felt like a slow, unraveling thread, pulling apart everything they had built. Y/N held onto his gaze, searching for something—maybe a way to change his mind, maybe a way to understand. But deep down, she already knew.

She nodded once, her throat tight. 

Everything shifted.

Y/N felt her breath hitch, her fingers trembling slightly in his grasp. “Harry…” she started, but she didn’t know how to finish.

His face twisted in pain, like he hated every word coming out of his own mouth. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I don’t want to do this, love. God, I don’t. But I need to.”

Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes. “Why?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Why do you think we can’t figure it out together?”

Harry inhaled sharply, his hand cupping hers, like he was trying to memorize the feel of her skin. “Because I don’t know who I am right now. And I can’t drag you into that mess. I can’t ask you to sit around waiting while I run off chasing things I don’t even fully understand yet.” He let out a shaky breath. “You deserve someone who is sure, someone who can be there for you in every way. And I—I don’t know if I can be that person right now.”

Tears slipped down Y/N’s cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away, hating how fragile she felt. “But you love me.” It wasn’t a question; it was a desperate grasp for something solid, something real.

Harry’s eyes softened, filling with sorrow and something deeper—something that hurt just as much as it loved. “With everything in me,” he said. “I love you so much that it physically hurts to say this.” He let out a broken laugh, running a hand through his curls before gripping the back of his neck. “I hate this, Y/N. I hate myself for saying it. But if we’re meant to be, we’ll find our way back.”

Her chin trembled as she tried to process it all. “And what if we don’t?”

Harry’s breath hitched. He blinked rapidly, like he was trying to keep his own tears from falling. “Then I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what if.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, willing herself to stay strong, but her heart was shattering. “I don’t know how to be without you.”

He let out a soft, broken sound, his forehead falling to rest against hers. “You don’t have to figure it out all at once,” he whispered. “Just promise me something.”

She swallowed hard. “What?”

“When the time comes—if we ever get another chance—promise me you’ll let me fight for you.”

A sob escaped her lips, and she closed her eyes, feeling his warmth, memorizing the way he smelled, the way he held her like she was something precious. She didn’t know how to promise him that. She didn’t know if she could.

But in that moment, with her heart breaking in his hands, she whispered the only word she could.

“Okay.”

And just like that, it was over.

They laid together for a long time, neither speaking, neither moving—just breathing in the same space, clinging to the last moments before everything changed. Y/N listened to the steady rhythm of Harry’s heartbeat beneath her cheek, memorizing the way it sounded, the way it felt against her skin.

His hand ran absentmindedly up and down her arm, slow and soothing, like he was trying to calm them both, like he wanted to keep this moment suspended in time. But time didn’t stop. It never did.

Eventually, he stirred, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head before shifting beneath her. She knew what was coming before he even said it, but hearing the words still made her stomach twist.

“I should go home,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

Y/N didn’t move, didn’t lift her head from his chest. If she did, it would make this real. And she wasn’t ready.

Harry exhaled shakily and brought his fingers beneath her chin, gently tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look at him. His green eyes were glossy, his expression torn, his lips parted like he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. Instead, he leaned in, pressing the softest, most devastating kiss to her lips—slow, full of love, full of sorrow, full of everything they still were but couldn’t be anymore.

When he pulled away, he lingered for just a second, his forehead against hers, his breath warm on her skin. Then, without another word, he stood.

She didn’t watch him leave. She couldn’t.

That night, she laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, the ghost of his touch still lingering on her skin. She waited for sleep, but it never came—not that night, not the next, not for a long, long time.

And even when exhaustion finally won, she woke up empty. Every single time.

Five Years Later

The late afternoon sun streamed through Y/N’s apartment windows as she flipped through the stack of mail she had just pulled from the box. Bills, a few random flyers, and then—her fingers paused as she caught sight of an envelope with elegant gold script.

Her heart lifted immediately.

Tearing it open, she pulled out a beautifully embossed wedding invitation, the words practically sparkling off the page: Mallory & Ethan—Join us as we celebrate our love!

A grin spread across Y/N’s face. She barely took a moment to admire the details before grabbing her phone and dialing.

It rang twice before a familiar voice answered. “If this isn’t Y/N calling to say she got my invitation, I will be thoroughly disappointed.”

Y/N laughed. “Guess you won’t be disappointed, then.”

Mal squealed on the other end. “You got it!”

“Of course I did. And obviously, I’ll be there. Like I’d miss my best friend’s wedding.”

“Ugh, I’m so excited! It’s getting so real now. I was just finalizing the seating chart and��wait.” Mal gasped dramatically. “Are you bringing a date? Tell me you’re finally letting some poor soul take you out.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling as she walked into her kitchen and leaned against the counter. “No, Mal. I’m not into dating right now.”

Mal groaned. “It has been years, Y/N.”

“I know.”

“And you’re telling me no one has caught your interest? Not a single, ridiculously attractive, emotionally stable man?”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “Nope. No one’s been worth the effort.”

Mal sighed in defeat. “Fine, fine. You can be my honorary date instead.”

Y/N grinned. “Gladly.”

The girls dissolved into laughter, the excitement buzzing between them. It was going to be a beautiful day, a celebration of love.

The following months passed in a blur of wedding excitement—not hers, but Mal’s. Still, as Y/N shopped for a dress, something about it felt personal in a way she hadn’t expected.

She stood in front of the fitting room mirror, smoothing her hands over the fabric of yet another gown. It wasn’t even white, just a simple, elegant dress for a bridesmaid. But every time she looked at herself, every time she turned to see how it moved, her mind wandered to a place she tried so hard to ignore.

What would Harry think if he saw me in this?

And then the thoughts spiraled.

What would I look like standing next to him at a wedding? What if it were our wedding?

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to shake the thoughts away, but they always came back.

Harry had always been the one. Even when he wasn’t.

They used to talk about it—getting married. Not in a serious, let’s-plan-this-right-now way, but in the way that two people who love each other deeply do when they think forever is inevitable.

She could still picture it—late nights in bed, her head resting on his bare chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns over his tattooed skin.

“What would your dream wedding be like?” he had asked once, his voice thick with sleep.

Y/N had smiled, shifting so she could look up at him. “Small,” she had said. “Somewhere beautiful. Maybe Italy or the English countryside. I want twinkly lights everywhere, candles, good food, and dancing until our feet hurt.”

Harry had hummed, running a hand through her hair. “Sounds perfect.”

She had smirked. “What about you? Or do you just plan on showing up in a suit and letting me do all the work?”

He chuckled, his dimples deepening as he turned onto his side, facing her. “I wanna write my vows the night before. Just me, a glass of whiskey, and all my thoughts about you spilling out onto paper.”

Y/N had rolled her eyes. “You’d procrastinate on our wedding vows?”

Harry grinned, brushing his lips over hers. “You’d love ‘em anyway.”

And he was right. She would have.

She would have loved anything, as long as it was with him.

But now, standing in a dressing room, staring at herself in a dress that wasn’t even a wedding gown, it hit her. 

Still, every dress she tried on, she imagined what it would look like if Harry was standing beside her. If she was choosing a dress for him, for them.

And God, she hated that even after all these years, part of her still wanted that life with him.

The airport was bustling with the usual chaos—rolling suitcases, hurried announcements over the intercom, the hum of travelers moving toward their destinations. Y/N clutched her boarding pass, shifting her carry-on higher on her shoulder as she navigated through the crowd.

She had traveled alone before, but this time felt different. There was an unshakable feeling in her chest, something stirring beneath the surface. Maybe it was just wedding nerves, maybe it was seeing Mal walk down the aisle, maybe it was the inevitable string of questions about when she would settle down.

Or maybe it was something else entirely.

The flight was smooth, and she spent most of it staring out the window, watching the clouds shift below her. Her mind wandered, drifting through old memories, old conversations, old pieces of herself that she thought she had let go of. But that was the thing about love—about Harry. It never really left.

After landing, she gathered her luggage and stepped out into the crisp air. The venue for Mal’s wedding was a dreamy countryside estate, nestled just far enough away from the city to feel like a secluded fairytale.

The car ride from the airport was quiet, scenic views rolling past the window as she watched the world blur by. When the car finally pulled up to the venue, her breath caught.

The estate was stunning—classic architecture with ivy climbing up the stone, fairy lights already twinkling along the pathways. It was exactly the kind of place she and Harry used to talk about for their own wedding.

She sighed, pushing the thought away as she stepped out of the car.

Before she could grab her bags, an excited squeal filled the air.

“You’re here!”

Y/N turned just in time to see Mal rushing toward her in a sundress and bare feet, arms outstretched.

She barely had time to drop her bag before Mal threw herself into her arms, squeezing her tight. Y/N laughed, hugging her back. “I told you I was coming.”

“I know, but now you’re actually here!” Mal pulled back, her eyes sparkling. “Come on, I need to show you everything! The venue, the flowers, my dress—I have so much to tell you.”

Y/N grinned, letting Mal drag her toward the estate, momentarily allowing herself to get lost in the excitement.

For now, she focused on the wedding, on Mal’s happiness.

What she didn’t know was that somewhere inside this very venue, Harry Styles had also just arrived.

Y/N followed Mal through the estate, taking in the stunning surroundings—the sprawling gardens, the delicate string lights woven through the trees, the elegant reception area where tables were already being set up with crisp linens and gold accents. It was breathtaking, the kind of wedding Mal had always dreamed of.

“I know it’s a little over the top,” Mal said, grinning as she led Y/N toward the main hall. “But Ethan wanted something classic and romantic, and honestly, who was I to argue? I’m marrying the love of my life—I’d say I’m winning here.”

Y/N laughed. “It’s perfect, Mal. Seriously. It’s like something out of a movie.”

Mal gave her an approving nod before looping her arm through Y/N’s. “Speaking of perfect—are you sure you don’t want me to set you up with someone at the wedding? Ethan has some very attractive friends.”

Y/N groaned. “Mal—”

“Okay, okay! Just saying. No pressure.” Mal smirked. “But I do expect you to have at least one fun, flirty dance with someone. It’s a wedding, Y/N. You deserve a little romance.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll think about it.”

They stepped inside the main hall, where final touches were still being put together—florists arranging centerpieces, staff preparing tables. It was a flurry of beautiful chaos.

And then, just as Y/N turned to say something to Mal, she heard his voice.

“Mal?”

The world around her froze.

That voice. That voice.

Slowly, she turned her head, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes landed on him.

Harry.

He stood just a few feet away, looking exactly like she remembered and somehow entirely different all at once. His hair was shorter than it had been back then, but still slightly tousled, his sharp jawline even more defined. He was dressed casually in a white button-down, sleeves rolled up, tattoos peeking through. But it was his eyes—those familiar, heartbreakingly green eyes—that sent a shock through her system.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Neither of them breathed.

Mal, oblivious to the sudden tension, grinned and rushed toward him. “There you are! I was wondering when you’d get here.”

Harry tore his gaze away from Y/N, hugging Mal briefly. “Yeah, just got in. Thought I’d check in before the rehearsal.”

Mal beamed, then gestured between them. “You remember Y/N, right?”

Harry’s gaze flickered back to her, something unreadable flashing across his face. His lips parted, and for the first time in five years, he spoke her name.

“Y/N.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t casual. It was heavy with everything unsaid.

Y/N forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat, to keep herself steady.

“Harry.”

The air between them was thick, the past pressing in on them like a ghost.

Mal, still completely unaware, clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is perfect! You two already know each other! Harry is one of Ethan’s best mates, and I was just about to tell Y/N she should have a dance with someone at the wedding.”

Y/N nearly choked.

Harry’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk playing there, but his eyes stayed locked on hers.

Mal grinned between them. “Okay, I have a million things to do, but you two should catch up! I’ll find you later, Y/N.”

Before Y/N could protest, Mal was gone, leaving her standing there with him.

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Harry cleared his throat, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Y/N let out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah. Same.”

And just like that, the past wasn’t so far away anymore.

The silence between them stretched for a moment, thick with years of unsaid words and lingering memories. Y/N could feel her pulse in her ears, her heart slamming against her ribcage as she tried to figure out what the hell she was supposed to say to the man who had once been her whole world.

Then, Harry’s lips parted, and his voice was softer than she expected. “You look beautiful.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn’t just polite small talk, it was genuine. His gaze lingered on her like he was memorizing every detail, like he was seeing her for the first time all over again.

Y/N swallowed, shifting her weight slightly. “Thanks,” she said, her voice coming out quieter than she intended. She forced herself to shake off the nerves, tilting her head as she took him in. “You cut your hair.”

Harry let out a small chuckle, running a hand through the shorter strands. “Yeah. Needed a change, I guess.”

She nodded, her eyes flickering over him, the tattoos on his arms more defined, his shoulders broader, his presence somehow even more commanding than it had been back then. But beyond all that, there was something else—something settled in his expression, in the way he carried himself. He had changed.

“Looks good,” she admitted.

A small smirk tugged at his lips. “Yeah? Thought you liked it long.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, a familiar warmth creeping up her spine. “I did. But you pull this off, too.”

Harry laughed, a sound that sent a flicker of something dangerous through her chest. “High praise, then.”

She exhaled, crossing her arms over her chest as she studied him. “You’ve been busy,” she said, her voice even. “The albums, the movies… you’ve done everything you said you would.”

Harry’s expression softened, his hands still tucked into his pockets. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I guess I have.”

Y/N nodded, a small, bittersweet smile pulling at her lips. “I’m happy for you, Harry. Really.”

He held her gaze, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. “Thanks, love.” The old term of endearment slipped out effortlessly, like it had never left his vocabulary, like five years hadn’t passed.

Y/N’s breath caught for just a second, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she offered a small smile and looked away, focusing on the wedding preparations happening around them.

“So,” Harry said after a moment, rocking back on his heels. “What about you?”

Y/N turned back to him, raising a brow. “What about me?”

His gaze was steady. “How’ve you been?”

There was something in the way he asked—something deeper, something careful.

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Good. Life’s been… steady. Work, friends, the usual.”

Harry’s lips pressed together like he wanted to ask more, but before he could, a voice called his name from across the room.

Ethan, the groom.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, giving a small nod in acknowledgment before turning back to her. “I should probably—”

Y/N nodded quickly, stepping back. “Yeah, of course.”

He hesitated, then gave her a small, lingering smile. “It’s really good to see you, Y/N.”

She swallowed, her heart doing something stupid in her chest. “You too, Harry.”

And just like that, he was gone, walking toward Ethan, blending into the crowd like he hadn’t just turned her world upside down all over again.

Y/N wanted to scream.

Scream in anger for the way he had just waltzed back into her life like five years hadn’t passed, like he hadn’t left her lying awake at night, wondering if she would ever stop missing him.

Scream in joy because—God help her—she had missed him. Seeing him again had ignited something in her chest. 

But instead, she took a shaky breath, pulled out her phone, and opened her messages.

Y/N: Naomi. Emergency.

A few seconds later, the typing bubbles appeared.

Naomi: Omg what happened?? Did someone spill wine on Mal’s dress? Did you trip in heels?

Y/N: Harry. Is. Here.

A long pause. Then:

Naomi: I’m sorry. WHAT.

Y/N: HE IS HERE. AS IN, PHYSICALLY PRESENT. IN THE SAME ROOM AS ME.

Naomi: WHAT THE HELL. HOW. WHY. ARE YOU BREATHING.

Y/N: BARELY.

She could practically hear Naomi screaming through the phone screen.

Naomi: Start from the beginning. How did it happen??

Y/N exhaled sharply, moving to a quieter corner of the venue as she leaned against a column, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

Y/N: I was with Mal, she was showing me around, and then I heard his voice. I turned around and there he was. Just standing there like he wasn’t about to send me into cardiac arrest.

Naomi: Holy. Shit.

Y/N: He told me I looked beautiful.

Naomi: YOU’RE KIDDING ME.

Y/N: I WISH I WAS.

Naomi: What else did he say??

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip before typing:

Y/N: We talked a little. He asked about me. I told him I was happy for him. It was… weird. Like no time had passed, but also like a lifetime had.

Naomi: Oh my god. Are you okay? Like, genuinely?

Y/N let out a breath, staring at the screen for a long moment before responding.

Y/N: I don’t know.

Naomi didn’t respond right away, and for once, Y/N was grateful. Because she really didn’t know.

Naomi finally responded after a long pause.

Naomi: Do you need me to fly out there? Because I will.

Y/N smiled slightly, shaking her head even though Naomi couldn’t see her.

Y/N: No, you’re off the hook. I’ll survive.

Naomi: Will you?

That was the real question, wasn’t it? Would she survive this? Would she survive seeing Harry, being near him, pretending that it didn’t shake her to her core?

Before she could respond, Mal’s voice rang through the hall.

“There you are!” Mal rushed up to Y/N, her eyes bright. “I need you to come to the rehearsal dinner in like, twenty minutes. Bridesmaid duties. You’re sitting at the head table, by the way.”

Y/N blinked, still slightly disoriented from everything that had just happened. “Wait—what?”

Mal rolled her eyes. “You’re basically my sister, of course you’re sitting with me. Ethan’s groomsmen will be there too, obviously.” She paused, her expression turning smug. “Including Harry.”

Y/N felt her stomach drop. “Mal.”

Mal grinned innocently. “What? You two used to know each other. Might as well catch up.”

Y/N groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. She quickly looked at her phone. 

Naomi: Why do I feel like something is about to go down?

Y/N sighed, typing back.

Y/N: Because it probably is.

She locked her phone and exhaled deeply.her.

Y/N stopped in her tracks, gripping Mal’s arm before she could walk off. “Mal.”

Mal turned, eyebrows raised. “What?”

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart pounding. “Harry… he’s the ex.”

Mal blinked, not catching on immediately. “What do you mean ‘the ex’?”

Y/N stared at her, her throat tightening. “The ex, Mal. The one I never got over.”

Mal’s jaw dropped. “Wait. Wait. Harry is that Harry?”

Y/N just nodded, feeling her stomach twist.

Mal’s eyes widened in horror. “Y/N! Why didn’t you tell me?! I just—oh my God—I just forced you into sitting at a table with him! I basically told you to flirt with your ex-boyfriend!”

Y/N let out a weak laugh, rubbing her temples. “Yeah. You did.”

Mal looked genuinely panicked, placing her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “Okay, do you want me to change the seating? I can put you somewhere else. I can banish him to the other side of the room if you want.”

Y/N hesitated, her heart a mess of emotions. Every logical part of her was screaming yes, but deep down, there was something else. A tiny part of her—one she wanted to ignore—knew she wasn’t ready to run from this.

She swallowed hard. “No… don’t change anything.”

Mal searched her face. “Are you sure?”

Y/N exhaled slowly. “No. If I’ve spent the last five years surviving without him, I can survive one dinner.”

Mal groaned, shaking her head. “I cannot believe I was the one to unknowingly throw you into this situation.”

Y/N gave her a small smile. “It’s not your fault. I never really talk about him.”

Mal frowned. “That should’ve been my first clue.”

They stood there for a moment before Mal squeezed her hands. “Okay. If at any point you need an out, just say the word, and I’ll stage an emergency.”

Y/N smiled despite the nerves in her chest. “Thanks, Mal.”

Mal smirked. “And for what it’s worth… the way he looked at you earlier? Yeah. That man is not over you either.”

Y/N’s breath caught, but before she could respond, Mal looped her arm through hers and started leading her toward the dining hall.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Y/N walked into the rehearsal dinner with Mal, her stomach twisting into knots. The dining hall was breathtaking—soft candlelight flickered across the elegantly decorated tables, and laughter filled the room as guests mingled. It should have felt warm, exciting, celebratory. Instead, it felt like she was walking straight into the eye of a storm.

Her eyes scanned the head table, and sure enough, there he was.

Harry sat near Ethan, laughing at something one of the other groomsmen said. He looked relaxed, at ease, but the second his gaze flickered up and landed on her, something shifted. His smile faltered—just for a second—before he quickly masked it. But Y/N caught it.

And it made her chest tighten.

“Breathe,” Mal whispered in her ear.

Y/N inhaled deeply, forcing a polite smile as Mal pulled her toward her seat.

“Alright, everyone, take your seats!” Ethan’s voice rang out, and people began settling in.

Y/N’s heart pounded as she approached her spot at the table. As fate would have it, she was seated directly across from Harry.

Of course she was.

Mal slid into her chair beside her, oblivious to the internal battle raging inside Y/N’s head. Or maybe she wasn’t—because when Y/N hesitated for half a second too long, Mal gave her a subtle nudge.

Y/N had no choice but to sit.

As soon as she did, the table conversation picked up, and for a few moments, she thought maybe she could get through this dinner unscathed. But then—

“You look nice.”

The deep, familiar voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She looked up, and there he was. Harry. Looking right at her.

For a second, she forgot how to breathe.

She cleared her throat, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks,” she murmured. “You do too.”

He gave a small smile, but there was something behind his eyes—something hesitant, something unsure.

Ethan, oblivious to the tension, clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Mate, did you know Y/N used to date a musician?”

Y/N nearly choked on her drink.

Harry’s brows lifted slightly, amusement flickering across his face. “Oh?”

Ethan grinned. “Yeah! I don’t think she ever got over him, asshole broke up with her to go fuck around.”

Mal visibly cringed. “Ethan—”

Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

Harry’s gaze was steady, his lips twitching like he was fighting back a smirk. He looked at her, his voice smooth as ever.

“Yeah?” he mused. “Wonder what happened to him.”

Y/N shot him a glare across the table, her face burning, while Mal reached for Ethan’s hand and squeezed it in warning.

Ethan frowned, confused for a second before realization dawned on his face. His eyes darted between Harry and Y/N, his mouth dropping open. “Wait—no way.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face. Mal let out a nervous laugh, while Harry just sat back, looking far too amused.

Ethan whistled low. “Wow. Okay. This just got interesting.”

Y/N peeked up at Harry, who was still watching her with that unreadable look in his eyes.

Ethan finally shut up after a pointed glare from Mal, and conversation around the table shifted away from Y/N’s romantic history—or rather, her history with Harry Styles. But the damage had already been done.

Y/N felt the weight of Harry’s gaze every so often, his eyes flickering toward her between conversations, his expression unreadable. She did everything in her power to ignore it, to focus on the food, on Mal’s wedding plans, on anything but the fact that Harry was sitting across from her, looking like a damn dream, completely unbothered by the chaos he had just walked into.

Eventually, the dinner plates were cleared, and drinks were passed around. Mal and Ethan stood to give a short thank-you speech, and while everyone was clapping and toasting, Y/N took the opportunity to slip outside for some air.

She stepped onto the balcony, the cool evening breeze brushing against her skin. She exhaled slowly, gripping the railing, trying to steady herself.

The air was crisp outside, a welcome contrast to the warmth and noise of the rehearsal dinner. Y/N gripped the railing, inhaling deeply, trying to calm the storm brewing in her chest.

She heard the door creak open behind her, followed by the familiar sound of footsteps.

“Running away already?”

She closed her eyes briefly before turning her head. Harry stood there, hands in his pockets, watching her with that same unreadable expression.

“Not running,” she murmured. “Just… breathing.”

He hummed in response, stepping closer until he was beside her, leaning against the railing. Their shoulders barely touched, but the proximity sent a ripple through her.

Silence settled between them, the weight of five years pressing down on both of them.

Harry exhaled, his fingers tapping lightly against the wood. “I tried.”

Y/N frowned slightly, turning to look at him. “Tried what?”

His jaw tightened for a brief moment before he met her gaze. His voice was steady, quiet. “To find something that felt like this.”

Her breath caught.

“Like us.”

The words settled between them, thick and heavy, cutting through the cool night air like a blade.

Y/N swallowed, her fingers tightening around the railing. She should say something—anything—but her mind was blank, her heart betraying her with how hard it was pounding in her chest.

Instead, she forced herself to look away, staring out at the dark horizon. “Did you?”

A beat of silence. Then, just as softly—

“No.”

The quiet stretched between them, filled with everything they weren’t saying.

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, exhaling through her nose. “Harry…”

He let out a quiet, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I know.”

But he didn’t move.

And neither did she.

The weight of his words sat between them, thick and unmoving. Y/N stared out at the night sky, her grip on the railing tightening.

She had waited.

For months. For years.

She had waited for the moment when he would come back, when the universe would prove him right—that if they were meant to be, they’d find their way back to each other.

But he never came.

And so, she had forced herself to move on, to let go of the idea of him and the promises they had made.

Except now, here he was. Standing beside her, his presence as overwhelming as ever.

She turned to him then, her voice quieter, but firm. “You told me if we were meant to be, we’d find our way back.”

Harry inhaled sharply, his gaze locking onto hers. “I remember.”

Her throat tightened. “I waited, Harry.”

A shadow crossed his face, pain flickering in his eyes. “I know.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

She shook her head slightly. “I told myself I wouldn’t. That I couldn’t. But I did anyway.” She swallowed, the emotions she had buried for so long threatening to surface. “And the thing is… I didn’t have to let you fight for me.” She met his gaze, steady and unflinching. “Because you were always the one.”

Harry’s breath hitched, his hands curling into fists at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for her.

She didn’t look away.

“I was yours, Harry,” she whispered. “Always.”

Harry let out a sharp exhale, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He looked like he wanted to say something—needed to—but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, he did what he had always done.

He looked at her like she was his entire world.

The space between them was thick with tension, a storm neither of them could outrun. Y/N’s heart pounded, her breath coming in uneven waves as she tried to steady herself.

Harry looked wrecked, his hands twitching at his sides like he was holding himself back, like the only thing keeping him from reaching for her was the fear that she’d pull away.

“I thought about coming back a million times,” he admitted, his voice raw. “But every time I convinced myself it was too late. That you’d moved on, that I’d lost my chance.”

Y/N exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “I waited for you, Harry.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t care. “You said if we were meant to be, we’d find our way back. And I believed you.” She swallowed hard. 

His jaw tensed, pain flashing in his eyes. “I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That you deserved better than someone who left you.” His voice was barely above a whisper, like he hated himself for even saying it. “Scared that if I came back, I’d ruin you all over again.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, her emotions bubbling too close to the surface. “And what about me?” she whispered. “Did you ever think about what it did to me when you didn’t come back?”

Harry flinched like she had physically struck him. He took a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair before looking at her again, his green eyes burning into hers. “I never stopped thinking about you, Y/N. Not for a single day.”

She sucked in a breath, her hands trembling at her sides. “Why now, Harry?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Because I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t stand in the same room as you and act like I don’t still love you.”

Y/N’s heart slammed against her ribs. “You—”

“I love you.” His voice was steady, sure. “I never stopped.”

A strangled breath escaped her lips. Every wall she had built over the years, every defense she had tried to put up—it all crumbled in an instant.

Because she loved him, too.

She always had.

And maybe she always would.

Before she could stop herself, before she could think about the consequences, she surged forward, her hands gripping his face as she crashed her lips against his.

Harry let out a soft, surprised sound before sinking into her, his hands flying to her waist, pulling her closer, like he had been starving for her.

The kiss was desperate, aching, filled with everything they had lost, everything they had missed, everything that still burned between them.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and shaken, Harry rested his forehead against hers, his hands still firm on her waist.

“Tell me it’s not too late,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together.

Y/N’s hands trembled as she cupped his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek.

“It was never too late,” she whispered back.

Harry let out a shaky breath, his forehead still resting against hers. His grip on her waist tightened, like he was afraid she’d disappear if he let go.

Y/N felt the warmth of his skin, the way his chest rose and fell in sync with hers, and for the first time in years, she felt like she could breathe.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her fingers still cradling his face. His green eyes were glassy, searching hers for something—reassurance, hope, maybe even forgiveness.

“I can’t do this again if you’re not sure, Harry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I barely survived losing you once.”

Harry shook his head instantly, his hands cupping the small of her back, holding her like he never wanted to let go. “I’m sure,” he said, his voice firm. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. “You say that now.”

“I say that because I know what it’s like without you.” He swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “I’ve spent five years trying to figure out who I am, trying to find something that felt even remotely close to what we had. And I couldn’t.”

Her breath hitched, and she let her hands drop from his face to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palms.

“So what now?” she murmured.

Harry gave her a small, almost nervous smile. “Now I prove to you that I mean it.”

Y/N felt something crack open inside her, something she had kept locked away since the day he left.

Before she could second-guess herself, before doubt could creep in, she nodded. “Okay.”

Harry’s face softened, and he let out a breath of relief. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A slow, almost disbelieving grin spread across his face before he leaned in again, pressing the gentlest, most reverent kiss against her lips—like he was sealing a promise.

Y/N melted into him, her fingers curling into his shirt, anchoring herself to him, to this.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy.

But it was them.

[maskedcrawford]

Green Eyed Monster

G-Dragon x Reader x platonic! Jackson Wang

Summary: You and Jackson Wang get close through work and your ex isn't too keen on the fact that it looks like you've moved on.

Warnings: Some angst, fluff at the end.

A/N: Thank you to anon who requested, I got to try my hand at writing for Jackson Wang and I'm going to OPEN requests for him if you guys want something. Leave a like and/or a reblog if you enjoy! Much love <3

Requests are OPEN

You’re sitting in the makeup chair when you feel a pair of hands delicately touch your shoulders. You look up from your phone in the mirror and you see his big dark eyes and light brown hair in the mirror.

“Well, it took ya long enough, J,” you say with a teasing smile as you get up and hug him. You and Jackson Wang had been working together for the last 4 months on a song for your album and today you were shooting the video.

“Always a pleasure,” he says genuinely and returns your hug. Were you and Jackson together? No. Were there rumors about such things? Absolutely. The song being about love didn’t help matters. You guys had known each other briefly through mutual friends but when you had the idea for the song, you knew his vocals would take it to the next level.

“Jackson, Y/N!” the director shouts and you two spring into action with the video. The video itself was pretty intimate; the two of you on a bed tangled together in the sheets, touching, be all close and having no sense of personal space whatsoever. But, Jackson is a professional.

“So if I put my hand here,” he’s talking to the director and looks at you and you give him a nod before he touches your hip.

“And then I can slide it up like this,” he does the motion and pulls you closer to him.

“Yeah, that’ll work perfectly,” your director says and you roll with it.

“Let’s move on to the kiss,” the director announces after that scene. You blush as the time comes for the practical make out session that’s needed for the scene. Jackson was obviously cute, and him so being so respectful and kind? That only made it worse.

You can’t help the nervous laugh as you two are placed together and he starts smiling at you.

“You ok?” he asks genuinely, “We can figure something else out if we need to, find another way to,” you put your hand on his chest to stop him.

“I’m fine, seriously. Just don’t eat my face,” you wink at him with a chuckle. He gives you a gorgeous smile while shaking his head.

“Might be hard, you’re lookin extra good in that outfit,” he subtly looks you up and down. You two had a flirty relationship, but both of you knew it wouldn’t really go anywhere. The scene commences and you lock lips passionately and for a brief moment you forget its for a music video, that is until you hear the director call cut and you both slowly separate, a slight blush on both of your cheeks.

“That was great, guys. We’ll pick it up tomorrow!”

The video is done after a few days and the album dropped four months later. Your adventures continue with a world tour together, but tonight you were performing at the infamous MAMA awards. Since you two were doing a love song it was known that you would have to kiss for the sake of the performance.

“Look, people love us together,” you smile as you show him a picture you posted with a bunch of likes. He smiles as he clicks on the comments.

“This isn’t helping the dating rumors ya know,” he winks at you playfully and you roll your eyes.

“Us kissing every night doesn’t either, not to mention neither one of us have confirmed or denied anything. Besides, who we go out with really isn’t their business.”

“Ever since you made headlines with G-Dragon though, they think it is,” he corrects you.  You raise your eyebrows with a sigh that confirms he isn’t wrong.

You and Jiyong had been together 4 years, until the beginning of this year. Schedules got in the way, and Ji had admitted to kissing another woman at a party when he was drunk. It was a one-time thing and for a while you were able to move past it, but eventually, everything came crashing down.

“How could you still not trust me?” he shouted. You were in tears, your nerves were shot and honestly you didn’t want to have the argument.

“You were all over her, Ji. Tell me I’m lying! You kissed another woman before, it’s not like you couldn’t do that and more,” your voice was bitter and weak from tears.

“Oh my god, are you ever going to let it go?” he looked annoyed, he looked weak and desperate to escape the mistake that played through your mind more than you cared to admit. You loved him more than anything, more than life itself practically. But who was he to tell you how long it took to heal? Who was he to say that he atoned for what he did just because of a few ways he tried to make it up to you. Girls were constantly all over him so it wasn’t like he was in short supply. It had caused you to feel insecure, regardless of whether or not he was drunk.

The two of you stayed silent, deafeningly silent, until Ji finally sighs and rubs his temple with his fingers.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he mumbles, “I can’t keep paying for this when I think I’ve proven I’m not that person,” his eyes are cold, depleted of life. It broke him to do this, but he didn’t see any other way.

“We’re done,” he said before walking out of your house with nothing more than a kiss to the forehead.

“Earth to Y/N,” Jackson calls out and you shake your head pulling yourself out of the intense flashback.

“Huh, oh, sorry,” you sheepishly rub the back of your neck.

“Let’s practice one more time,” he takes your hand helping you stand up.

“Ji, have you seen this?” Taeyang was over at his house and pulled up the love song you and Jackson put out.

“Hmm?” he glances away from his phone and furrows his brows at the video. He see’s the two of you kiss on screen and he feels, that pang of jealousy. He’s seen the video before, he seen it the day it came out, actually. But he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t want to think of it.

He hadn’t seen you since that night, not in person anyway. On TV shows and award ceremonies, he would watch, quietly support you and your career, even liking the first picture or two you posted of you and Jackson.

“They are performing tonight at the MAMA awards, so you’ll probably get to see her,” Taeyang calls out as he heads to the kitchen.

“She’s going to be there?” His voice is rushed, excited almost.

“Yup, we better go too, we’ll be late.”

You and Jackson are at the venue preparing for the show, hitting the choreography perfectly multiple times.

“OK, we gotta get dressed,” you say as you two come out of each other’s embrace

“We got this in the bag,” you both high five and he brings you in for a hug.

“You should really layer a little more deodorant,” you say with a giggle. He sniffs his shirt and makes a twisted face.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he laughs as he jogs off stage. As you walk off to go to the dressing room you stop as your breath hitches in your throat.

Ji-yong laughs as he feels someone stop and stare, he looks away from his manager and he spots you. His smile fades as he takes in your shocked face.

It’s still as beautiful as the first day he met you. He gives you a small wave and smile and you can’t move. His gaze is friendly and lingers for a moment. He starts to walk towards you, until he see’s Jackson come up behind you with his hand resting on your back. You look up at him directly and he can see the smile on your face when you look at him.

He feels the aching jealousy well up inside him but he pushes it down. You nod your head at something he says, and Jackson flits his gaze to Ji before giving a pursed lip smile and dragging you off with him in another direction.

“What could she possibly see in him?” Ji yong asks out loud not really expecting an answer.

“Hyung, did you really think she wouldn’t,” Ji-yong shoots Taeyang a glare, “Move on?” he finishes carefully.

“It’s been 8 months,” he tries to be gentle with Ji’s feelings, but the sting is too much. Jackson Wang was in a place he was supposed to be in. One he’d still be in most likely if he hadn’t of screwed up.

“Still fucking stings,” he grumbles. Taeyang sighs and gives his friend a hug.

“You both,” he pulls back and looks his friend in the face, “Need to move on. It’s time.” He tries to encourage him, tries to show him it’s healthy to move on, but the way Ji-yong loved you, despite his mistake, he was sure he’d never love anyone the same way.

“It’s not that easy, hyung.” He sighs as he sits down for the stylist to do his hair.

“She was everything, my muse, my rock, my reason for breathing. There were days I only got out of bed because I knew I would see her and that it would help make my day better,” he remembers fond memories as he talks to Taeyang about you. One of you and him riding the ferries wheel and getting stuck on top, that’s where your fist kiss was. When you accidently spilled ice cream on your top and he gave you jacket to cover it. When you’d both grow bored at parties after a little while and want to leave to just spend quiet time at home. He missed the way your touch made him feel like everything would work out, the way you made him feel like he was enough for exactly who he was. He sighs as he finishes getting ready for the show.

“Ok, are you ready for this?” Jackson asks you with anticipation.

“Absolutely, just don’t kiss me with tongue tonight,” you swat his arm and he laughs.

“No promises,” he winks and kisses your temple. You both get into position and the song starts as the lights go up. You follow the normal dance routine, spinning and swaying your hips to the beat, and kissing at the end of the song.

As the song is performed Ji can’t help but watch from the side of the stage, the way your body moves so gracefully and how it fits to Jackson’s so well when he had to wrap his arms around you, but it wasn’t the perfect way it fit Ji-yong’s. No, your body wouldn’t fit to anyone else’s the way it did his. He noticed the happy smile on your face, only noticing it falter when your eyes locked as you look his way.

The song ends and the lights go back down. You and him rush off stage and as soon as you are out of view you jump into his arms, adrenaline running high. He catches you with a huge smile on his face and he kisses your cheek sweetly. Ji-yong watches just off to the side and he rolls his eyes. He walks past you and you catch him out of the corner of your eye, his face deadpan.

You stay to the side of the stage to watch him perform. As he looks off to the side, he catches you watching, swaying your body to the music and nodding your head. He gives a half smile your way and you return one. His performance ends and he runs off stage he takes his mic off and before he can run to you, Jackson once again is in the place he wants to be, by your side.

“So, I was thinking, we could go down to the club and celebrate,” Jackson’s excited nature was infectious.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you glance at Ji-yong who’s giving you a glare again and you furrow your brows at him.

“We’ll leave in a few, get changed!” He runs off to get his stuff together and you go to walk off, but before you can you feel a hand around your wrist pulling you back. You look back and see it’s Ji-yong who has an unreadable expression on his face. You look at each other for a moment.

“I really need to talk to you,” he pleads.

“I,” you look in the direction Jackson went and back at Ji who looks slightly hopeful you’ll stay.

“I can’t,” you say tearing your arm away. He lets you go and for a moment lets you walk away before following you.

“Y/n,” he catches the door to your room. You look over at him, he still takes your breath away, the way his hair clings to his forehead from the sweat, the way he looks at you with his dark eyes, the way his clothes somewhat soaked with sweat cling to his body.

“What, Ji? I have somewhere to be, Jackson isn’t going to wait on me forever,” he scoffs and looks off to the side, mumbling something to himself.

“You want to share with the rest of the class,” you sass him.

“Not really,” he sasses back. You roll your eyes.

“I’m changing so at least shut the door. He walks in and shuts it.

“I meant with you on the other side of it,” you shoot him a glare of annoyance.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen, held or tasted before,” he smirks and you roll your eyes with a sharp exhale.

“Whatever,” you pull your top off your head and his eyes go directly to your body, not in a sensual, sexual way, but in a way that he’s curious. He notices you’ve put on a just little weight in the last 8 months and you instinctively wrap your arms around your torso.

“Can you not, stare,” you pause looking away from him, “at me,” you hear his footsteps come closer and he lifts your chin with his thumb and index finger.

“You’re beautiful,” he slowly reaches for your arms to pull them away and he’s inches from your face.

“Ji-yong,” you put a hand on his chest pushing him back slightly. His eyes flash with hurt before he recovers.

“Be honest with me,” he says standing back further as you find a different shirt. While you’re slipping it over your head you hear him ask, “Does he touch you better than I did?”

“What? Who?!” You all but shriek.

“Your little fling,” he motions his hand as you pull the shirt over your head you take off your pants next and put on some comfortable leggings.

“What ‘fling’,” you ask bewildered by his audacity. He rolls his eyes, saying his name makes him feel ill.

“Your little affair with Jackson Wang, y/n, I know about it, and so does the rest of the world, besides with the way you were sucking face out there, you don’t try to hide it.” You can see his jealousy and you quirk a brow at him. You decide to have a little fun at his expense. After all if he’s going to be nosy and a jerk at the same time, why not have a little fun.

“What Jackson and I are, or aren’t,” you pause and stare at him directly into his eyes, “doing is none of your concern. You left me, Ji, who I’m with now is none of your business.” You strap on a pair of sandals and walk out the door leaving him standing there.

“Jackson,” you call out and race to him. You can feel Ji-yong watching you so you slip your hand in Jackson’s as you walk off.

At the club the music is loud and the drinks are good, but you start to let your mind wonder back to your ex-boyfriend.

“What are you thinking about,” Jackson yells over the music as he see’s you staring into space.

“Ji-yong,” you huff.

“He nods his head understandably. He heard about all of it, multiple times, and he knew you still loved him.

“You wanna dance?” His offer is intriguing and you decide it’s better than sitting there thinking of the guy who broke up with you. As you and Jackson dance you happen to look over your shoulder and see that face that makes your knees weak.

“Holy shit,” you yell and Jackson notices your body tense as he looks at you concerned.

“What?” you point to Ji-yong as the answer to his question.

“Go talk to him.” He tries to push you forward.

“No, he was a dick.” You pout. He nods and walks over to Ji-yong for you. You watch as he gets closer, and even buys your ex a drink.

“Listen, man, I don’t know what you’ve been told, but me and your girl,” you see him gesture to you, “We ain’t together.” He throws back a shot and so does Ji.

“She isn’t ‘my girl’,” he corrects solemnly.

“Could’ve fooled me. She talks about you constantly,” he chuckles and Ji-yong quirks his brow. Jackson knew you’d either thank him or kill him for this, but he wasn’t worried about that right now.

“She does?” he looks over to you, seeing you dance alone.

“Oh yeah, how bad she misses you, wishes things would’ve been different.” He nods his head and looks down at the bar.

“So what’s with the rumors and the kiss and,” Jackson nods interrupting him.

“We did the song together and just became close friends. As far as the kiss, management thought it’d be good for the song if we kissed like in the video. We’re completely platonic though.” He downs another shot, Ji-yong decides not to, he wants his head clear when talks to you.

“Go get her, man,” he encourages and Ji-yong nods his head as he makes his way to you. He slides in behind you while you dance and the intimate smell of cologne and cigarettes wafts to your nostrils. You feel his hand on your hips as he moves with you.

“Can we talk,” he asks in your ear and you just keep dancing, ignoring his words but not his touch, you bring his hands around your torso so he encapsulates you.

“Jagiya,” his voice is soft, sultry even, and once the music ends you sigh and turn to face him.

“Can I please talk to you,” you see Jackson at the bar smirking at you. You give him a half smile as you find an area in the club away from all the people.

“What is it,” you don’t know how else to ask.

“I miss you,” he’s straight to the point and you didn’t expect that.

“Ji,” you sigh.

“Look, I wasn’t planning on telling you, but I seen you with him tonight and I hated it. He had you the way I should, the way I did.” He steps closer to you; you back up hitting the wall. He closes the space, your mouths just inches apart. He’s intoxicating, the way he looks at you, smells, and just the feeling of his body near yours is electric.

“He kissed you the way I did, the way I still want to,” he mumbles as he caresses your cheek.

“Not really,” you utter barely above a whisper.

“Hmm,” he asks like he doesn’t understand.

“He didn’t,” you look into his dark, beautiful eyes, “kiss me the way you did. It wasn’t the same passion or love. It wasn’t the same feeling I got with you.” You feel your cheeks blush as you confess to him.

“His touch,” you runs your hands over his arms that are locked onto your hips now,“Isn’t the same. Its not as electrifying.” You look at him through your lashes.

He looks relieved.

“So, you really aren’t with him?” you shake your head no.

You bring your forehead to his and whisper to him, “I’m not with anyone, I’m yours Ji-yong, I always have been,” and before any other words can be said his lips are on yours, smoothly moving in sync and he pulls your impossibly closer as you fist his shirt.

“Aegiya,” he practically whimpers when you separate.

“I need you to come home.” You smile at his confession.

“Promise me something,” you say cautiously.

“Anything,” his desperate eyes search yours.

“You’ll give us time to rebuild trust and be patient with me,” you’re asking more than telling.

“As long as you want to trust me again, I’ll prove you can.” He smiles.

“Then lets get out of here,” you grin as he takes your hand and leads you out of the club.

If you enjoyed consider buying me a coffee

[bryndlery]

Not alone. I also struggled with similar issues when I was getting into comics. Even when reading non Marvel/DC comics where I was truly starting at number one with no other missing context, I had issues.

Figuring out how to read the layouts, getting used to the pacing, switching back and forth between text and art and using both to interpret the story are things you don't really see in other media and you have to get used to. Plus, there tends to be a lot going on in any given page, and can be really overwhelming.

When I started, I'd get a few pages in and realize I didn't really know what was going on because I would only read the words and skip over the pictures on autopilot. It took a bit for me to learn to slow down and consider both in my reading. And even then I feel like it took even more time to get to the point I could do it naturally and allow myself to actually get invested in the story.

Even now there are some comics that I struggle getting into, especially if they have a unique art style or design choices that I need to adjust to.

I'm honestly surprised this doesn't come up more as an issue for getting into comics. Its a different way of reading and it can take awhile to get the hang of.

I really hate the idea (which I see floated on here constantly as if it’s a statement of fact rather then conjecture) that comics are exceptionally confusing or difficult to read because they really really aren’t unless you’re trying to read some kind of big crisis-style event, at which point we’ve arrived at what I like to call a ‘driving in New York’ problem: you knew it was going to suck ass before you got started and you didn’t have to do it that way because there are better ways of getting around

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

Day Twenty-Six?? Is already here?? Picnic Date time! Part of this has the cheesiest (positive) thing I've ever written, but I was encouraged to keep it in. So now you have to endure it, too. You can read this on AO3 over here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

When Evan knocks on his door, Tommy gives himself a second before he answers. He doesn’t want it to be totally obvious that he’s been hovering by the door ever since his boyfriend texted him that he was on his way.

He opens the door, and Evan’s already smiling, and Tommy feels like his heart is caught in a constant loop of melting and exploding. He tugs him in with a kiss and a soft greeting, and Evan holds on tight and returns the kiss. They haven’t seen each other in two weeks, because they only had a few hours here and there where their shifts weren’t overlapping. Those hours had mostly been in the middle of the night when they were both sleeping or close to it, so the most off-shift time they’d been able to get was over half-asleep FaceTimes.

“I missed you,” Evan says into his neck when he hugs Tommy.

Tommy skims his hands over Evan’s back and inhales the smell of him. “I missed you, too.”

They stand there for a long moment before Evan takes a half-step back, his hand sliding down to grasp Tommy’s.

“You want to skip lunch?” Tommy asks, and Evan shakes his head. “You sure?”

“You said you had a surprise,” Evan reminds him with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Surprise me, big guy.”

They can’t get sidetracked, there are temperature-sensitive things in the literal picnic basket on his coffee table. He deserves another medal around his neck for resisting grabbing Evan and pulling him into the bedroom. Tommy does spread his hand over Evan’s lower back and flick his eyes down to his lips, enjoying the way Evan’s eyes dilate when he meets his eyes again.

“Stay here,” Tommy says, leaving a lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth and going to the living room so he can grab the basket, blanket, and small cooler that he’s able to loop over his arm. When he comes back, Evan looks surprised and then happy. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Evan agrees, taking the cooler from his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t peek.”

They start walking out, and Evan heads toward Tommy’s truck.

“No, we’re staying local,” Tommy says, nodding toward the left. “C’mon.”

They walk the few blocks it takes to get to the park by his house. Tommy had taken the kids to it once recently, but Evan had been home sick with a nasty cold while Tommy babysat. He’s pretty sure that unless he took a roundabout way to get to Tommy’s, Evan’s probably never noticed it before.

“Aw, this is cute,” Evan says as they approach. It really is. There's a couple of families clustered with kids who are climbing on a playground, several dogs are being walked, and there's a guy walking near some trees with a pair of binoculars.

“Table or grass?” Tommy asks, nodding toward the picnic tables.

“I mean, you grabbed the blanket,” Evan points out. “Let's use it.”

They settle under a lone tree so as not to interfere with the birdwatcher. Evan's been threatening to get into birdwatching again, which had been a nice excuse to go on walks with him and eat trail mix, but every photo that was texted to him for a month had been a new bird. It had taken Tommy a while to get over the disappointment of seeing the word “tits” in a text preview only to get a picture of a couple of gray-brown birds instead of his boyfriend's chest. Evan had made up for it with a series of pictures, at least.

The food is pretty typical picnic food: sandwiches, fruit, chips, dip, cookies, chicken salad, pasta salad, potato salad, and beer. Evan makes appreciative noises and moans, because Tommy told him to shift his cheat day back one day so he could eat everything on offer.

“God, you have the best ideas,” Evan says around a mouthful of potato salad. “Also, why haven't we gone to this park? We always run the other way.”

“Because then I wouldn't be able to check on the cats,” Tommy points out. He runs past a food and water station he and a neighbor set up for the feral cats in the neighborhood, because Tommy isn't home enough to have it outside his own house. He also checks on as many cats as he can see, tries to spot new ones, texts his neighbor if she's not home so he can find out if she needs traps or anything for the new ones he does see, and talks to her about them if she is home. The house is two blocks over and a block down in the other direction from his house, so they always go that way instead.

“It's cute,” Evan says, wiping his face with a napkin and settling back on the blanket with a happy squint up into the tree where a squirrel seems to be hopping around. “I wish I had a good park near my place.”

The opening is gift-wrapped. Tommy opens his mouth, but then he freezes. He shovels two cookies in his mouth instead.

It's when the food is gone and they're laying on the blanket and watching a very large dog and a very small dog get walked together that Tommy rolls onto his side and reaches out to rest his hand on Evan's belly.

“Hm?” Evan hums, looking over at him with a smile on his face. It hasn't left since they arrived. Everything about him makes Tommy ache, it has since that first night he kissed him, and it’s only gotten worse since they got back together. It used to scare him to death. It still scares him, but he’s gotten better about pushing it aside.

Evan Buckley has all the power in the world to destroy his heart, but Tommy knows now that it's not in him to do that.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks. “And it's probably going to be ironic, coming from me. So feel free to get a little angry. You earned it.”

“What?” Evan says, his face starting to pinch a little in confusion, but he's still smiling as he sits up. “What's up?”

“Do you want to move in with me?” Tommy asks, feeling like the words are being ripped out of him because this could fuck everything up.

But Evan's reaching for him, his eyes filling with tears, and he chokes out a shocked laugh. “What? Are you—really? You mean it?”

Tommy sits up, too, his heart pounding in his chest as he nods. “I know we've only been back together for—well, just over six months. But I—”

He's cut off by Evan kissing him, and Tommy is kissing him back, but it's difficult because Evan is smiling so much.

“God, yeah,” Evan whispers, and Tommy's face finally unfreezes into an answering grin as Evan nods. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” he confirms, and they laugh at the absurdity after Evan’s just said it twice. “You started talking about your lease renewal and I didn't want to wait another year to ask. You were right before. I know I don't say it enough, but you were right.”

“Why be apart when we could be together?”

Evan was smart. So much smarter than Tommy. He hadn't been great at articulating it at the time, leaving out half the reasons he wanted them to live together, but they've talked it out since January. And Tommy's never been able to deny that Evan was right.

Everything about them works. It all fits together, molds around each other, fills in the cracks in the other person. And it's like a klaxon has been going off in Tommy's head every time one of them has to leave the other's place or if they're stuck talking on the phone when they're both off and on their respective beds because they're too tired to drive or the other one has a shift that starts in just a few hours.

Keep him by you, keep him with you, what are you doing, Kinard? You're wasting time, he's right there, he's your other half and he's right there.

His boyfriend presses their foreheads together as they tangle together as much as is acceptable for a public park near where they'll be living.

“I would've moved in by February,” Evan admits. “Maybe earlier. Like the day we got back together. I didn't want to scare you.”

“You still scare me,” Tommy confesses. “But I know I can trust you.”

Evan nuzzles their noses together and smiles. “Yeah. I—you know that poem?”

Tommy huffs out a laugh. “Gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart.”

“‘I carry your heart in my heart’ or something.”

That—Evan can't know. Tommy's never told anyone. Once again, Evan’s stumbled his way into a direct path to Tommy’s heart.

“It's cummings,” he says, swallowing around a sharp lump in his throat. “My mom used to read it to me. When she got sick.”

Evan’s fingers tighten on his arms, and he draws back, concern etched in his face. “I��”

“‘Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,’” Tommy quotes softly, his mind going to the last part even though he knows the whole thing. “‘Here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide. And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart. I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart.’”

There’s a bubble of silence that follows, and then Evan cradles his face in his hands and leans in to press a soft, sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth and then another on Tommy’s lips.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “That. That’s—yeah.”

Tommy hugs him close, and Evan buries his face in Tommy’s neck. He imagines he can feel Evan’s heart against his own, that they have to be beating in sync with one another. If he closes his eyes, he can see their hearts fitting together, beating in sync and cradled together in each of their chests. He might paint it, as grotesque as two actual human hearts pressed together would be. It doesn’t have to be displayed, it can just be for him to show Evan so he can say: “See? This is us, this is for us, this is us.”

He tips his face down to hide it in Evan’s shoulder, and he feels Evan’s breath puffing against the side of his jaw.

“Right here,” Evan says, his hand slipping between them to curl against Tommy’s chest, right over his heart. “I’m right here.”

Tommy nods and lets out a shaking breath. “I know.”

“And you’re right here.” Evan turns his hand to press against his own heart, and Tommy covers it with his hand and gives him a teary smile as he nods again. “Forever. Us living together is just the next natural step toward that. We do this, m-maybe we get married—if you want.”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, his voice coming out hoarse. “I want that.”

I’d marry you tomorrow.

Tommy knows he might have to wait a little longer than that. But he knows it’ll happen. He knows it’ll happen, and he knows that if he’s brave enough, he might put this moment in his vows. He knows that Evan will make him brave, that it’ll be nothing at all to hold his hands in front of their family and tell him and everyone else that on a picnic blanket in a park next to their house, Tommy knew that he would marry Evan Buckley.

[00valentina-writes00]

Hello! I love reading your posts, I always come in to see if you've posted anything new. ❤

I've been thinking..

Mel Medarda secretly being.. a little obsessed with Reader's butt.. I saw a story about Vi being a girl who likes Reader's ass, and I would love to have a story about Mel who likes Reader's butt 😭

(If you don't feel comfortable, obviously don't write about it, and I apologize if my English is not good, English is not my first language)

♡♥︎ A Little Obsession♥︎♡

Warnings: light humor, Mel being a bit obsessed (in a cute way), slightly suggestive content.

Mel Medarda had always been a woman of control. A leader, a strategist, a mastermind behind the most subtle of moves. Nothing in her life had ever felt out of her hands—until you came into the picture.

From the moment she met you, there was something about the way you carried yourself. The way you spoke, the way you moved. But it wasn’t just the way you captivated everyone with your presence. No, it was something else. Something that Mel had never quite expected to latch onto her attention as it did.

Your ass.

She wasn’t ashamed to admit it. It was hard not to notice when you walked into the room, the way your hips swayed with every step. Your figure, elegant and powerful at the same time, seemed to leave a trail of heat wherever you went.

It was subtle at first, almost an afterthought. But as time went on, it became harder for her to look anywhere else when you were around. Her eyes would wander, drawn to the curve of your hips, the way your clothes hugged your form just right. And it wasn’t just the physical. No, it was how it made her feel—how it made her need.

Mel tried to be discreet about it, of course. She prided herself on being a woman of subtlety, but you knew her better than anyone. You had started to catch on. And one evening, as you two were alone in her private quarters, she knew it was only a matter of time before you’d confront her about it.

It was a simple evening. You were sitting sideways on the couch, Mel beside you, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on the back of your hand. The room was quiet, the soft glow of the candlelight casting shadows on the walls. But you weren’t focused on the peacefulness of the moment. No, you could feel the weight of her gaze on you, and not just on your face this time.

You turned to look at her, catching her eyes quickly flicker away.

“Mel,” you began, your voice light but teasing. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

She raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

You leaned back a little, crossing your arms and letting the smallest of smiles slip onto your lips. “You’ve been staring at my ass for the last fifteen minutes. I think it’s time we have a talk about it.”

For a moment, Mel froze. She stared at you, completely caught off guard. She opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come immediately. Then, she took a deep breath, the corner of her lips curling into a half-smile.

“You caught me,” she admitted softly, her voice almost like a confession. “I do… enjoy looking at you.”

Your grin widened, and you scooted closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Is that all? Just enjoying the view?”

Mel’s gaze dipped, as though she couldn’t help herself. Her eyes trailed down to where the fabric of your clothes stretched over your hips, and she bit her lip. “It’s not just that,” she murmured, her voice low, laced with something you couldn’t quite place. “It’s… more than that.”

You leaned in closer, her breath hitching slightly as you cupped her cheek with one hand. “More, huh?” you teased, your thumb tracing along the edge of her jawline. “Like what?”

She swallowed, her eyes flicking up to meet yours, something a little darker in her expression now. “It’s the way you move. How you walk… how your body just… flows.”

You tilted your head slightly, catching the quiet admission, and the playful spark in your eyes flickered into something deeper. You hadn’t known that Mel was so… affected by you. The realization made your pulse quicken, and you shifted, pressing a little closer.

“I see,” you said, voice laced with humor. “So it’s not just the view, then. You like what it does to you, huh?”

Mel’s face warmed a little, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she closed the distance between you two, her breath hot against your skin. “I think it’s safe to say I have an… appreciation for it,” she whispered, her hands sliding to rest on your hips.

Your lips twitched into a smirk, your fingertips tracing along the side of her neck. “An appreciation?”

She nodded, her hands gently gripping your waist. With a slow, deliberate motion, Mel slid one hand lower, just below your waist, her fingers brushing against the curve of your hips before she gently gripped your ass. You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and airy as you glanced down at her hand.

“You really like it, don’t you?” you teased, wiggling a little in her grasp.

She looked up at you, her expression softening. “More than you know,” she admitted, her eyes darkening with desire. “It’s hard to focus on anything else when I’m with you.”

The sudden honesty in her voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stared at her. There was something endearing about how vulnerable she was being, even if it was just about something like this.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” you teased, running your hands along her arms.

Mel’s lips quirked into a grin. “I’m not embarrassed. Just… captivated.”

You leaned in, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to her lips, a whisper of affection. Her grip tightened on your body as she kissed you back, deeper, with a quiet hunger. You could feel her desire building, but she held back, the restraint only adding to the intensity.

When she finally pulled away, her breath coming fast, her hands didn’t move from your waist. She looked at you with a small, almost shy smile. “You’re driving me insane”

You laughed, brushing a hand through her hair. “I don’t mind.”

Mel seemed to calm down, the tension in her shoulders easing, and she smiled up at you, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “I guess this is just one of the things I love about you.”

“Just one?” you asked with a sly grin.

She chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with affection. “Oh, there’s plenty more. But we have all the time in the world to explore that.”

You chuckled, leaning in for another kiss, this one slower, more tender, as you both melted into the moment.

Even if Mel had a little obsession with your ass, you could live with it. It was just another thing that made her fall for you more each day.

And, truth be told, you kind of liked it too.

[sunsbaby]

❝ de. i think i'm stuck... ❞

❝ sam will you help me! gosh... ❞

⋆ dean w. & sam w. x photographer .ᐟ reader

ever since you began hunting with the boys, their life went in a new direction. they found themselves appreciating the little things a bit more—such as taking photos, just on their phones and not a huge camera. sam had taken more of an interest than dean, following you around and secretly 'learning' from you. dean, however, he didn't care for it, but somehow he always took the best photos. albeit some are rather embarrassing, like you with pie all over your face, but they were fond memories and a way for him to relive the moment again.

"biride, hurry up. we don't have all day." dean groaned, his head falling back as he dramatically rolled his eyes.

sam stood on the side-lines, too busy in whatever lore he was reading to focus on the important matter at hand—important in your words. there was a beautiful bird high up in a tree, one that you had to climb in order to get close enough; that's how you ended up perched on a branch, camera held tightly in your grasp as you shot a look down towards dean.

"de, do not distract me or so help me god i will break this camera on your head!" you threatened in a hushed whisper as to not scare away the creature in front of you. "and you will buy me a new one."

"yea right, birdie. you won't do anything, and i'm not buying you anything." dean teased, sam let out a sigh—he gave dean 'the look.'

somehow sam thought this was the perfect moment to take a picture of, their birdie trying to take a photo of a bird. he let out a chuckle as his finger pressed the button on his phone, a snapping sound echoed through the trees when you both clicked a button at the same time. the bird flew away, but you were successful. celebrating your victory with a little dance—to which dean face-palmed at.

when you attempted to get down, you realized something was off. you quite literally could not climb down. your lips pursed and you tried to come up with a plan inside your head—which was filled with song lyrics and what else you could take a picture of. not helpful, so you resorted to your only other option. sam and dean!

"de. i think i'm stuck..." your voice was almost quiet, which dean took as an opening to tease you.

"huh? what was that birdie? i can't hear your chirping from down here." he said, that dumb grin etched onto his face—a face you couldn't wait to smack.

"sam, will you help me!" you almost yelled as a pout formed on your glossy lips—no dry lips around here! "gosh..."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

after that stressful part of the day, you settled into the backseat of baby while the boys sat in the front. people might think that you're being forced to sit in the back—no, it's actually the opposite. who wants to sit between two men, especially ones who spread their legs like they're the only ones sitting there. at least in the back you can lay down, and not think about the sexual activities that have gone down. it makes for a great way to take pictures of them with out their knowledge.

"can we stop at a gas station, i want snacks." you asked as you poked your head into the front, turning up the music in the process.

"i could go for some too." sam joked, his eyes focusing in on yours.

a soft smile played at his lips—he couldn't imagine life without you. you'd just walst into it and changed them for the better. no matter how far you went, your wings always brought you back.

"i guess, birdie..." dean grumbled, he knew good and well that he couldn't say no to you. neither could sam. "shut up, bitch." dean joked with sam, a genuine smile forming on deans stubbled face.

"jerk."

the sun faded in the background as you sang out into the sky, the wind tangling in your hair. another day spent with your boys and memories made. that was what a good day is to you.

sunny yaps! HIII EVERYONEE! 👯‍♀️ photographer!readers first little story/drabble! i hope you guys like her and pls share your thoughts and opinions! I LOVE HEARING THEM!

special tags! @bluemerakis @figthoughts @dulcescorderitas @sunsettsam @h8aaz @deansbeer

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ® 𓂃 do not repost or copy my works without permission!!