#listen. its very small. but. i broke down crying. it gives me hope.

[autism-corner]

something i think that cis people can never understand is how what should be basic respect can mean the whole world to a trans person

[hmusunoo]

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒! - hyung line

▏synopsis. enhypen hyung line as different types of angst tropes

▏warnings. angst, most of these are really sad.

▏wc. 2k

✩ heeseung - memory loss

You woke up in a blur. The lights to this very lit up room were blinding, coupled with the white walls and thin sheets you laid upon. Your mind was in a haze, your eyes taking long to adjust to its surroundings as your head pounded so hard you could feel the ache behind your eyes. Groggily you brought your hand up, pawing at your eyes to alleviate the bleariness from them.

Your confusion was laden on your face as you took in your surrounds. You were definitely in a hospital that was for certain. If it weren’t for the stark white of the room and the crisp smell of cleaning supplies you weren’t sure if your mind would have even registered it. It seemed that normal day to day things were splotchy to recall, names of objects and colors were hard to come by.

Your body had ached. Feeling as if you were hit by an a thousand pound truck at record speed and in the confusion to find your bearings you hadn’t noticed the hunched figure that sat directly next to your hospital bed, fast asleep. Chest rising and falling at a rhythm.

more under the cut!

A boy sat next to your bed, holding tightly to your hand as if it were his lifeline. You wiggled your hand out of the boys grip. The movement had caused the boy to stir, opening his eyes to peer at you. The boys eyes widened as he looked you.

"Y/n!" He said, hoping up from his place on the bed. "You're awake." His smile had brought a small sense of warmth to your chest, one you couldn't explain and were extremely confused by.

You tilt your head in confusion at the boy but said nothing, struggling to find the right words to say, to break his happy spirit when you tell this boy that you had no idea who he was. None at all.

Finally deciding to break the ice you asked "Who are you?" The bright smile that once adorn this beautiful boys fell, a look of confusion now replaced the happy expression. "What?" He asked his tone broken sounding.

"It's Heeseung? Your'e boyfriend.." You tried your hardest to force the memories of him back but it just wasn't working. You had no idea who he was and somehow deep down inside of you seeing him sad and heartbroken hurt you.

Your mind might not have any idea to who he was but your heart definitely had.

✩ Jake - bet

You were running. You weren't entirely sure where you were going but all you did know was that you had to get out of here.

You were trying to catch your breath but the bubbling of a sob was to hard to swallow, catching in your throat. The sound of footsteps behind you reminding you to keep your pace and not allow Jake to catch up to you. You feared that your resolve might break if you were face to face with him after what was just revealed to you.

"Y/n!" Jake shouted after you panting. His voice breathy from running. You started slowing down getting tired. The single lapse win pace was Jake's biggest advantage in catching up to you. "Listen to me please, baby"

Jake sounded desperate his voice breaking slightly at the end of his sentence. "Please" he pleaded again. You stood still your back to him hugging your arms around yourself, the only form of protection you could provide yourself.

"You lied to me" You whispered not able to conjure up anger only sadness. "I was a bet, a fucking bet" The tears from your eyes like a waterfall. You didn't turn to him, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You wanted to appear stronger than that even though you knew you weren't.

"I can explain, ok." Jake said sucking in a breath "I'm sorry I hurt you-"

"You broke me!" You whipped around to look at him finally. The anger finally simmering in you, reaching its boiling point and exploding all over the two of you.

"I gave everything to you! Just to find out I was a fucking bet. The punch line of your sick fucking joke. I don't want any part of it anymore. Leave me alone." You spit the words at him trying to hurt him like he had hurt you. You think you succeeded when you watched his face drop. A look of despair over taking him. He was one hell of an actor you'd give him that.

"Just- let me explain before you berate me-"

"You deserve it" You said cutting him off again "You deserve to hurt like I hurt Jake."

"You were a bet." He said, you scoffed shaking your head at him "I know that already."

"But I fell in love with you, that was real. And I know that doesn't change how this happened but I mean it ok? I love you. " The tears felt like they were forming again.

Your heart breaking even more, you knew within yourself that you would not be able to forgive him. if now or if ever you weren't sure, you just knew that it hurt walking away from him.

✩ jay - saying hurtful things in anger during an argument

"You're not listening to me!" You shouted in frustration grabbing your head in annoyance. "You never have time for me anymore Jay. I miss you"

"I hear you loud and clear Y/n, and im telling you I can't help that I have a job and responsibilities." Jay sat on the couch head in his hands as you stood over him trying to get him to just hear you out god damnit.

"That's not what I mean and you know it Jay." You said defeated. "I just want you to make time for me. I miss my boyfriend, I miss who we used to be."

"I can't always be the same person y/n" Jay snapped, standing from his place on the couch. "Some of us are trying to do things in their life, some of us want to be successful and not be stuck at home listening to their nagging girlfriend all day." The words struck you.

You said nothing in surprise at his sudden outburst. The silence more than likely clearing Jay's mind. The realization of what he said hanging in the air over the two of you.

"So I'm just some loser girlfriend who waits at home all day for her more successful boyfriend to make a living for her. got it." You said curtly nodding at Jay.

"Y/n I didn't me-"

"You didn't mean it? Then why did you say it Jay. Stop kidding yourself that's the most real thing you've said to me in awhile." Your words stung him. The severity of the situation dawning on him.

"I didn't mean to say it like that Y/n." Jay said, reaching out to grab your waist. You turned away from him softly muttering "I need a break."

"You need a break?" He asked, his tone rushed. "Are you breaking up with me? Over something like this?"

His question had made you angry. Did he think what he said was nothing? That it weighed no significance. "I don't know" You responded honestly. "what I do know is that I need to be away from you. I'll be at Y/f/n's house don't call me." With that being said you walked out the door grabbing only the essentials not knowing if you'd ever be back.

✩ sunghoon - reader catches him talking badly about her

You were excited to finally see Sunghoon after he had been busy with comeback schedules and preparing for tour. He had been spending a lot of time in the dorms and not coming to see you as often as he used to. It was exhausting being away from him.

You often called him only to be sent to voicemail or to get a quick 'love u talk to you later' text. Something that rarely ever happened, you didn't end up talking later.

You would sometimes go days without talking to Sunghoon, you missed him dearly. So tonight you decided to surprise him. You were going to wait for him at the dorm. He would be home soon and finally you'd be able to spend some time together even if its for the night. You sat in Sunghoon's room scrolling on instagram waiting for the text from Jungwon that they were home. Finally your phone dinged with the notification that they were home.

You knew that it had been a long day for them so you decided to send a quick text to Sunghoon before he came up wanting him to be even more excited to see you when you surprised him.

You texted him ; have a goodnight babe! love you and miss you!!

it was simple and sweet and you just hoped that he loved in. Gathering the snacks you had gotten for the two of you, you felt giddy and jumpy at the thought of seeing Sunghoon after so long. Finally the door to dorms opened and you heard bustling of the boys coming in.

"I'm exhausted" You heard Jake groan out and then the sound of a thud that was most likely his bag. "Sunghoon why don't you go see Y/n tonight since we have the day off tomorrow." You heard Heeseung say. Sunghoon let out a groan. "She just texted me and honestly I'm not even going to answer I don't feel like dealing with her tonight."

Your ears perked up at that. A dreadful feeling sat at the pit of your stomach. "Hyung..." Jungwon spoke softly "maybe she just misses you?'

"She's over baring with it. She's like my mom with how much she texts and calls me. You think she would get the hint when I don't answer for days, I deal with millions of fangirls a day I don't need to deal with one when I get home too." Taken aback by his words you step back, hugging the wall.

You hadn't realized you were crying until you felt the wetness on your cheeks.

Sunghoon must have started to make his way towards the room because all you could hear was Jungwon's protest. It was too late though, the door swung open and you were met face to face with Sunghoon.

As soon as his eyes set on your his face turned as white as sheet. Realizing that you must have heard his harsh words based on the tears falling from your eyes.

"baby.." Sunghoon spoke shock written all over his painstakingly beautiful face.

"Is that how you really feel?" You asked him, the hears still falling from your eyes. "Like I'm some crazy fangirl"

Jungwon, Jake and Heeseung stood awkwardly behind Sunghoon watching the scene unfold before their eyes.

"Since i'm such a bother to you, I'll do you a favor by leaving and never coming back." You were stern. Turning to grab the things you had brought with you save for the snacks. He could have those.

"No, Y/n I didn't mean it like that I'm just stressed with work." He tried to reason with you. Trying to stop you from walking out go the dorm.

"I was only trying to help you Sunghoon. Not suffocate you." You were still crying. Humiliated as his members watched you break down.

"I know that baby- "

"don't call me that" You cut him off "I'm not your baby anymore."

"Y/n no" He said shaking his head. "Let's talk about this first." You shook your head a sigh falling from your lips.

"There's nothing to talk about I heard what you said, I got the message." With all your belongings in your hands you walked out the door leaving an embarrassed and heart broken sunghoon behind.

taglist - @shypen , @belovedhoon , @st1llm0nster , @blossommi , @jooniesbears-blog , @kkamismom12

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐇𝐔𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐓𝐋 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑

Summary: When Y/N needs help on a hunt, she doesn't expect Bobby to send Dean Winchester to her. Now the two must work together to solve the case and Dean has to deal with Y/N's sarcastic and biting personality, that maybe he likes a little too much.

Pairing: Dean × F!Reader

Warnings: spn level violence, swearing, nudity

Word count: 2171

Series

Dean and Y/N crossed the alley that led to the gate of the small house, careful not to attract the attention of the two lovers or the mysterious creature. They both held their gun loaded with silver bullets: they didn't know if it would work, but it was the only thing that was lethal to most creatures.

They entered the house picking the lock with a simple pin that Y/N always carried with her. Just as they crossed the threshold, a deafening scream broke the silence. Dean and Y/N glanced at each other briefly, then rushed upstairs, where that scream was coming from.

"OH MY GOD!" screamed a naked Michael Connors, pointing to the dead body of Peter Johnson, which lay on the floor devoid of eyes, teeth and nails.

Dean looked at the helpless shape of the man. Then he grit his teeth and pounded on the door in a sudden fit of anger.

That thing had been there and they hadn't arrived in time to stop it.

"Damnit!" Y/N yelled "Where did it go?" She looked around nervously. It couldn't be far in such a short time.

The man to whom she asked that question, however, didn't seem to listen to her much: he was there crying for his deceased lover, with his knees on the ground and his hands that continued to shake him in the hope that he was still alive.

“Michael, where did it go?” She asked pulling him away from the still warm corpse of the other man.

“Peter is dead! HE IS DEAD!" He cried out.

He should never have answered her like that.

She wished she had the time to calm him down and make him assimilate everything that happened but she couldn't afford it: the only way she had to get an answer to that question was to slap him. Which she did without any problems.

"Ouch!"

"You will die too, if you don't tell me where the fuck the thing that killed him went!" Her grip on his shoulders tightened, almost leaving him ten holes as a souvenir.

"I don't know what... it was a dog... big... its tail..."

"Tell us where!" She exclaimed, skipping that description that they had already had the opportunity to reconstruct with the doctors' testimonies.

When she saw the man's pupils dilate to focus on something just behind her, she couldn't turn in time to strike him. But there was a shot anyway.

It was always nice to have a teammate watching your back.

"The bastard is freakin' fast." And from that sentence she understood that Dean had missed his target, yes, but at least he had managed to give Y/N time to drag Michael in the corner of the room. It was him it wanted, wasn't it?

"Come and get him!" She invited it to come forward, looking at the door that connected the bedroom to the living room.

It had to be in there.

Dean had never seen that creature before: it looked like a dog, a rottweiler with much sharper teeth, a bit like a large wolf but with a body that resembled that of an otter or a mammal that lives in water and a tail that had, at the end, a hand with sharp claws. It was making a low growl, drooling from its mouth and moving fast, very fast. It was so fast that Dean didn't even notice he had hit it, for a moment. He looked around, the gun still pointed at nothing, ready to pull the trigger a second time.

"Ssssh" he said in a low voice, bringing the forefinger of his hand in front of his lips. He shot a knowing look at Y/N, which she immediately interpreted as "keep your eyes open." Then he advanced cautiously towards the living room, slipping into the semi-darkness. Dean fumbled around the wall for a switch, and when he found it he understood that they were out of light.

It's smart, he thought, the bastard cut the electricity. Dean sighed and took a few steps forward. The room was empty and the curtains fluttered gracefully in front of the wide open window. Never letting his guard down, he walked over to the windowsill and looked down.

Whatever that thing was, it had managed to run away. He had confirmation of this when he noticed a small spot of blood staining the window. He put the gun back in his jeans and went back to Y/N and the poor guy who survived.

"The thing ran away," he announced irritably. “But he's wounded. I think I grazed him.”

"Wh-what was it?" stammered Michael, still naked and terrified.

"Believe me, you don't wanna know it," Dean said gravely. Then he shifted his gaze to the corpse.

He picked up the phone and called the 911.

"I'd like to report a body," he said, when a female voice answered on the other end. Dean gave her the address. "My name? Yes, my name is…” but he hung up nonchalantly before finishing the sentence.

"C'mon, let's get out of here before the police arrives," he said to Y/N, before returning to the window. He took out a piece of cloth and wiped away the blood stain on the windowsill. They needed the DNA of that thing, but above all they didn't have to arouse suspicions with the police.

"Who the hell are you?"

Great question, Connors.

"God, what do we do now?" Y/N asked to Dean, ignoring the question of the other man in the room.

"Were you two following us?" The man asked again, remaining in the corner like a helpless little worm.

"I don't know, but that thing will come back." Dean answered, ignoring the man for a second time.

"You're not from the FBI. You lied! Hey, I'm talking to you!"

Suddenly both heads of the hunters turned towards him, glaring at him.

“If you keep interrupting me, I swear I'll shoot you. Okay?" Y/N warned him with her lack of patience, then went back to ignoring him as she did until then.

"Okay... whatever we are gonna do, he's coming with us." Dean said pointing to Connors.

He was right. Michael was the only partner left, they couldn't risk leaving him alone: ​​he was their last hope.

A naked, shivering man was their only hope…damn what a sad picture.

"What do you wanna do to me?? Where are you taking me?" yelled the man looking from Y/N to Dean and from Dean to Y/N, obsessive and rightly frightened.

Y/N sighed.

“Put something on and hurry up. If you get into the car naked, he'll be the one to shoot." She suggested, nodding towards the door that her hunting partner had just passed through to reach the lower floor.

When they were finally ready to leave, Dean got behind the wheel with the two passengers aboard, before the police arrived. As expected, that poor man began to list a long list of questions, questions that Dean -as well as Y/N- knew by heart for the too many times he had heard them asked: who are you? What do you want from me? Aren't you FBI agents? Do you want to kill me?

"No, we don't wanna kill you, Michael," Dean answered patiently. “Listen, that thing is hunting you and will soon come back and kill you. We just want to stop it."

"Why me?! I didn't do anything!" said the man, frightened and confused.

That creature probably lived in the lake and didn't accept that its house had to be replaced with a dam. He didn't want to be evicted and from there its desire for revenge was born.

Dean and Y/N ignored him, occasionally exchanging a fleeting glance, while Michael Connors repeated the questions as if he really expected an answer from at least one of them. Finally he gave in, his gaze downcast and thoughtful. This was the worst moment, when they began to realize what they had just experienced.

“That thing killed Peter…”

"He killed your other two partners, too," added Dean, looking at the man's tearful face in the rearview mirror.

"I don't wanna die."

"And it won't happen," he replied, turning back to face the road. “You have to trust us. I know we lied to you, but we're the only ones who can help you right now, okay? If you run away you're dead, if you stay hidden you live. You got it?"

Michael nodded, wiping his cheeks with the palm of his hand. Dean sighed and Y/N looked at him.

"We need to find out what that thing is," she said.

“Let's get Michael somewhere safe first. Then we'll go back to killing that dogotter.”

"Dogotter?" Y/N asked, confused.

Dean sketched an amused smile, «yes, that's what I called it. The thing is half dog and half otter, you know..."

The girl raised her eyebrows, bewildered. Then she shook her head and hid a smile behind her hand.

"What is it, you are on your period? Hurry up!" Y/N knocked repeatedly on the door to urge Michael -probably in the middle of another crying crisis- to come out of the bathroom of their motel room.

They had returned there to give Michael the chance to call his family and warn them that he would be gone for a while. Plus they'd have to refuel before starting a twelve-hour long drive to Sioux Falls, going to Bobby.

“Are you sure you don't wanna get some rest? I don't think you've been sleeping much lately» she said to Dean, who was busy packing his bags.

He shook his head but receiving a negative response didn’t stop her. "If we split up we will get out of this sooner," she said then. She didn't want to loose her life in a very stupid road accident caused by Dean falling asleep while driving.

No, Dean was not stupid, he would never have driven his car if he wasn't sure he could drive safely.

Maybe deep inside, but really deep, Y/N wanted to avoid squeezing Dean's energies to the extreme.

"I'm taking 'Mr. World's Longest Piss' to Bobby and Sam's and as soon as we find out anything we'll let you know." She yelled that nickname on purpose, hoping the insults would get to the the man in the bathroom.

"Is that altruism I hear in your voice?" he asked, almost shocked.

“We'd shorten the time, Dean. It's twelve hours to get there and twelve hours to get back here. As far as we know that…that dogt-"

"Dogotter," he corrected her with a smirk, zipping up the bag.

“Okay, that thing could also attack the workers. We need someone here."

She crossed her arms over her chest, her face serious and determined to make him at least consider her correct point of view.

"Are you afraid I might crash us on the way?"

"I don't know, how long has it been since you slept?"

“This is a nightmare! Everything is a nightmare!" Michael complained as he came out of the bathroom. But, as usual, no one listened to him, especially Y/N who was now busy staring at Dean.

Dean shifted his gaze to Michael as he entered the scene. Then he went back to preparing for the journey, ignoring the man's complaints and Y/N's words.

"'Don't worry,' said Dean, intent on filling the second bag with all the guns he had previously pulled out of the Impala when he arrived in the town. "The workers are safe."

"And why do you think that?" Y/N asked.

“The creature cut the electricity when we were in that house. Which means only one thing: it doesn't like the light" Dean answered.

He closed the zip of the bag and loaded it on one shoulder, grabbing the other with his free hand then indicated the door to Michael with a nod of his head, inviting him to shut up and get moving.

"He's sleeping?" Y/N asked, turning back to look at Michael, sprawled in the backseat of the Impala.

"Like an angel," Dean answered ironically.

They had been on the road for about seven hours and the sun had been up for quite a while. Luckily the streets were clear enough for Dean to continue at a brisk pace.

He had a strange feeling that Y/N was staring at him, but he decided not to try to confirm it. He continued to keep his eyes on the road, ignoring those of the young huntress.

"I almost forgot how good you are at what you do," Y/N suddenly confessed, surprising Dean in a good way.

"Are you flirting with me, sweetheart?" Dean answered ironically, while a crooked smile appeared on his lips.

Y/N smiled, amused. “As if that bothered you, love.”

It was almost funny how every time Dean called Y/N "sweetheart" she responded with "love", just to tease him. Maybe she liked it, just a bit.

"Not at all," Dean admitted sincerely, giving her a fleeting glance.

They both smiled and silence fell again in the Impala.

Tags: @eevvvaa @spn730015 @supernatural111222 @youcancallmelily @clairenovakanddeanwinchester @dads-on-a-hunting-trip @3amstillawake @supernaturalmess @marvelandsupernatural @agirlwatchingalotoftvshows @candy-coated-misery0731 @impalaslytherin @rudy-the-winged-wolf @dean-winchester-6767 @samanddeansannoyingsis @roseblue373 @waynes-multiverse @random-spn-fan @xoxokiaraaxoxo

Series: @stitchintimefan @foxxymunson @sagexcandles @deans-spinster-witch

[brandonduhaimes]

Love you more

Gif credits to owner!

Pairing: Kirill x gn reader

Length: 2.3k

Authors note: im sorry this one took so long! Requested.

"Y/n you will find a new guy he will be so good to you and it will all work out for you its just that we don't." Your now ex boyfriend had just broke your heart into so many pieces that you weren't sure they would ever be put back together.

"Just get out Jamie, I don't need a whole sob story on how great I am after you dump me. Ill leave your stuff in a box that you can pick up outside on monday."

With that you ushered him out of the house before collecting a bottle of wine from the fridge and heading back to your couch. With that you decided your best move currently was to watch the wild game. You had promised Kirill that you would watch it and you intended to keep it.

You were able to block out the feelings as you watched the boys play, enjoying their three point lead and all the smiles on the bench as they goof off.

A wild game later Kirill texted you that he was on the way back to your shared apartment. Knowing that he was on the way back made you feel a little better as you knew he would be around to help but that didn't make the tears stop falling.

When Kirill walked in 20 minutes later followed by Zuccy, Dumba and Boldy and saw you on the couch crying he immediately kicked them out. While they were going celebrate the win Kirill had decided you were more important.

Zuccy gave you an apprehensive look before ushering the two younger ones out the door. As they left you could hear quiet mumbles of "I hope they are okay" and "feel better y/n." Before you could mutter out a thank you the door softly shut behind Mats.

As the door shut Kirill made his way to the couch plopping down onto it. "Whats up dorogája?" (Sweetheart) The simple question just made the tears fall faster.

"Can I give you a hug?" He asked trying to get any words out of you to slow down your breathing and take your mind off of whatever was troubling you.

You nod slowly and Kirill moves to wrap his arms around you while slowly rubbing your back. You collapsed onto his shoulder and cried while he quietly sang songs to you in Russian. While you had very little of an idea of what he was singing it comforted you. He always knew exactly what you needed.

After you had composed yourself a little you let him know what had happened. "Jamie broke up with me today and now I'm not sure what to do," you sniffled quietly.

Kirill's eyes widened as you spoke and he immediately went into protective mode. "What can I do to help? Oh wait I have an idea." He got up and started to look for the remote to the tv running around like a goofball and getting a small chuckle out of you.

After he finally found the remote he sat down on the couch and put on Lilo and stitch. He smiled knowing it was your favorite movie, and pulled you into his side again. You smiled and curled up onto the couch as he pulled a blanket onto the two of you.

You spent the rest of the night watching Disney movies and and searching the pantry for easy snacks. Kirill had opted to put the wine bottle back in the fridge since you hadn't opened it. After you had helped him through his last breakup he knew that it would only make things worse currently.

You cried a little every once in a while but hoped Kirill didn't notice as you felt bad for burdening him with this.

You really cared about him and while you loved Jamie it wasn't the way that you felt for Kirill. He had been there for everything the last few years. Your first fight with Jamie, graduation, when you finally got your first job in your field and he had promised to be there on your wedding day. He was the one who was there when you woke up and when you fell asleep.

He was always there to listen and you tried to he there for him just as much. Every regular season game, every group outing with the boys (who almost forgot you weren't a part of the team at times), and every playoff game possible. You would drop everything to be around for him if you could. You didn't want him to leave you more than anything.

What you hadn't realized though was that Kirill was livid. Not at you but at Jamie for being able to hurt you, he knew that he would have treated you so much better and that you deserved everything you ever wanted.

He loved you.

He had always loved you and now that he had the chance he was going to fight for you.

He watched the tears slowly stop as you began to fall asleep on his shoulder, exhausted from the last few hours.

At this point Kirill looked at the time reading 12:30 am. He knew that you had work in the morning so he got up and carried you down the hallway to your bedroom, and laid you gently on your bed.

He then went out and grabbed the blanket from the couch to put on top of you so he didn't have to make you wake up to pull the covers up. After he had you all tucked in he gave you a light kiss on the forehead before whispering to no one but himself, "I love you y/n you deserve so much better."

He then wandered down the hallway to his own bedroom and got himself ready for bed before laying down and slowly falling asleep.

When you woke up snow was falling outside, checking your work group chat you saw that your job was closed for the day due to an issue with something in the shop. At first you were excited to have a day off but then you remembered the events that had taken place last night. Opting to continue to lay in bed for a while you grabbed your phone once again and turned on tiktok scrolling through your for you page.

After a little while you heard the faint noise of feet padding down the hallway towards your door. It was soon followed by gentle knock. "Y/n," Kirill whispered through the door.

"Come in," you sighed and he silently opened the door and made his way over to you.

"You're going to be late for work you should probably get up," he giggled looking at your slight bedhead knowing that he would maybe get fought if he wasn't careful.

"They closed the shop so I don't work today, so I have more time to wallow in self pity. What are your plans for the day?"

Kirill frowned at this and decided that today he was not going to let you sit inside. He quickly got up and ran out of the room with a huge smile on his face.

"I wonder whats on his mind," you muttered to yourself before deciding to go get a cup of coffee.

You got up and walked into Kirill's room thinking he might be in there. When he wasn't you decided to steal one of his hoodies and headed towards the kitchen.

Once you reached the kitchen you could hear the clattering of pans and quiet swearing as Kirill tried to make breakfast.

You smiled to yourself as you turned the corner watching Kirill whisk together pancake batter. You then walked all the way into the kitchen and started the Keurig.

"Good morning!" Kirill says cheerily and you smile in response.

"What are you making?" You ask him and he scratches his head.

"I was trying to make pancakes but the batter is all lumpy and I can't fix it." He sighs and you giggle a little bit before coming over to inspect the batter.

"You just need to add a little bit more water and you should be good." You respond taking the bowl to the sink and adding the water before whisking the batter together.

"Thank you." He says and begins heating up the stove.

You smile at his effort and finished making your coffee and making one for him as well.

Kirill kept working at the pancakes. As he finished he set two plates up for both of you. He then set the table and got plates dished up.

As you sat down at the table he began to fidget with his hands in anticipation. "Hurry we have stuff to do today!" He smiles brightly making you laugh.

"What do we have to do?" You ask and he smiles.

"I can't answer that but I have the day off to so expect some fun." You smile at his effort and finish your pancakes and coffee quickly before getting ready to go.

Kirill met you at the front door dressed in a pair of jeans and a nice t shirt. He smiled at you before dragging you out the door to his car.

He drove you to the downtown area and you walked around looking at all of the small shops. The two of you window shopped and joked around while the cars flew by around you.

As you continued on you passed a small pet shop. Kirill had been wanting a dog for a while now so you smiled at him and went inside.

You looked around the small shop for a while playing with the kittens and puppies in the open play pens. You noticed that most of the puppies were really playful but Kirill had one that was taking a nap on his lap curled up in a little ball.

You smiled at him before asking, "is that the one?"

"He's only the one if you agree to it. Im going to need help taking care of him while I'm gone and I think it would keep you busy when I'm gone," he replied.

"I think you should get him he is so adorable." You smile and Kirill looks to the owner of the shop to start the transaction.

The two of you walked around the pet shop picking out toys treats and food. He made his way over to the collars and the two of you decided on a light blue collar. As you made your way up to the register he grabbed your hand and squeezed it lightly.

The two of you held hands through the rest of the pet shop falling into a comfortable silence while paying for the puppy and all of the extras. After paying you and Kirill dropped hands to grab all of the bags. "What should we name him?" Kirill asked, and you thought for a moment.

"What do you think of Winston?" You ask and he smiles at you.

"I love it."

You made your way to the car and then Kirill led you to a park to let Winston play outside for a little bit before going home. As you walked through the park with the little golden retriever he smiled and all you could think was that he looked ethereal in the sun.

He let Winston off the leash for a little bit to run around. The puppy played hard and chased Kirill around the small clearing in the park. As Kirill ran you couldn't help but laugh as he ran pretending to be terrified of the small animal chasing him.

You moved to grab your phone to take pictures of the two of them playing around in the field before being crashed into by Kirill as he was busy trying to keep the puppy from getting tangled in his legs.

The two of you landed on the ground with a thud before bursting out laughing as Winston immediately tried to grab Kirill's beanie off his head. You smiled and Kirill quickly re leashed him and you continued on your journey.

You found yourself reaching for his hand and he reciprocated gently holding it and smiling at you. As you walked you made small talk and goofed around. While you walked you couldn't help but think about the future.

Would he want the same things as you? A whole world of possibilities ahead of the two of you and you had no idea if he was interested in any of it.

As you were thinking Kirill stopped. Both you and Winston turned to look at him slightly confused.

"Y/n?" He asks "I know that this might be too early for this but, I need you with me forever. I cant bare to watch you get your heart broken again by someone who doesn't really care. I need you to be in my life and I'm more than willing to wait if you need time but I love you-"

He froze as you pressed your lips to his. It felt as though the world was stopping to wait for you. You pulled away and he moved his hands to your waist pulling you into a hug and squeezing as if he could never let you go again.

"I love you more Kirill. I couldn't imagine the future without you." He smiled and pressed his lips to your cheek.

When you finished Kirill was bright red and he had a big toothy grin plastered on.

"Can we go home and have a movie day?" You ask and he smiles and nods before latching your hands together.

"For the record I love you way more Y/n" he responds making his way to the car.

As you make your way in you stop to wonder how you got so lucky. You looked forward to the future and all you could see was a great outlook. "I don't think that's possible Kirill. I will always love you more."

[lacunamatatasworld]

she looked at the girl that was looking back at her with hazel eyes that held their shared moments and all the love she gives. the dark-eyes that held a whirlwind of emotions broke the silence. hazel-eyed girl did not listen because her mind took a painful walk down memory lane.

in an empty room with hundreds of worn out books aligned on a dusty shelf, hazel met dark through the holes of an empty bookshelf. the eye contact that felt like forever lasted only a few seconds before the dark eyes looked away uninterested. hazel was in a trance by the light that her dark eyes reflected in that moment. hazel walked around to the other side of the shelf in hopes of getting more than just eye contact and maybe the dark-eyed girl hoped for that too because it came true. the two girls fell on the ground together. dark-eyes looked down into hazel-eyes with a slight interest, or at least that’s what hazel thinks because of the smirk on dark’s face. the feeling of flames ignited on hazel’s freckled cheeks and dark was only fueling the fire.

“do you need me to go get a fire extinguisher for that pretty face of yours, miss?”

“—can’t do this” dark only saw her mouth moving because she was hardly listening.

“here i’ll open your door for you,” dark eyes quickly got out of the car, “because obviously i’m the dyke here.”

“thank you, kind sir” hazel giggled into her black, silky, long-sleeved flannel, “what a gentleman.”

hazel got close as she could to dark as they walked into the theaters to watch a movie. to her, it felt almost right to stand by the slightly shorter girl’s side, but that secret will be kept to herself for a very long time.

the two girls walked out of the theatre hand-in-hand, one of them was leaning into the other for emotional support. hazel looked at dark eyes with curiosity.

she wanted to know what made her cry, because the movie that they saw together didn’t. she wanted to bring joy into her everyday life and make everyday an adventure. it was awful that she already wanted to do so much with a girl she’s known for a couple of weeks, but she went along with her feelings.

dark-eyes looked at hazel with adoration and gave her a kiss on the cheek before getting back into her car to go home.

“——please understand that” hazel eyes continued to yell at the girl with dark eyes.

“plea— stop ticking me!“ the hazel-eyed girl’s eyes were closed as she was struggling to keep her breath steady and shout at the same time. dark-eyes mischievously smirked down at the other girl and that smirk turned into a small smile when she remembered their first encounter.

dark-eyed girl’s eyes got darker when she decided she wanted to mess with hazel and make a mess out of her. she slowly dragged the tip of her pointer finger up the other’s thigh while maintaining intense eye-contact. if you had to use one word to describe the look on hazel’s face- it would be red.

dark-eyes laughed and retreated her hand back to its previous position. the two laid next to one another and talked about their favorite things together for what felt like an eternity.

“it was always my dream to someday travel around the world, take pictures in every location and create beautiful moments.” hazel eyes turned her head to look at the side of dark eyes face after she had said that.

she seemed to be a bit frustrated, eyebrows furrowed and a frown on her pale face. “do you want me to travel with you?”

it was hazel eyes’s turn to frown. “no—“ she sighed, “no that wasn’t what i was implying. it’s just my dream and i’d prefer following it on my own.” she really meant the opposite of her said words but she didn’t want to overwhelm dark-eyes in the slightest bit.

“you and i,” hazel eyes’ voice was trembling with hurt and rage, “wait— there never was a you and i.”

her midnight black bangs swayed with the sudden breeze and once again fell back onto her forehead. the moon’s beams bounced off of her wet hair and gave her and hazel eyes light. her dark eyes absorbed the white rays, you probably couldn’t tell the difference between her eyes and a solar eclipse. the bridge of her nose scrunched up when hazel eyes threw water into her face and she laughed. if her laugh was a happy song, hazel would listen to it on repeat. her smile put the moon and stars combined to shame. the freckles on her cheeks reminded her of the craters that reside on the moon, beautiful markings that make her even more insanely beautiful. her small frame was striking and the curves that shape her body were mesmerizing. the craters that were on her cheeks go all the way down to her stomach. hazel wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss dark eyes as if they were one other’s oxygen supply.

“so you meant to tell me that you never liked me,” hazel was hardly keeping herself from falling. “that you just wanted someone to mess around with, someone’s heart to break apart, shard after shard, until they’re nothing but shattered glass in the palm of your fucking hand?”

[honkingcrow]

From V for Vendetta

I don't know who you are. Please believe. There is no way I can convince you that this is not one of their tricks. But I don't care. I am me, and I don't know who you are, but I love you.

I have a pencil. A little one they did not find. I am a women. I hid it inside me. Perhaps I won't be able to write again, so this is a long letter about my life. It is the only autobiography I have ever written and oh God I'm writing it on toilet paper.

I was born in Nottingham in 1957, and it rained a lot. I passed my eleven plus and went to girl's Grammar. I wanted to be an actress.

I met my first girlfriend at school. Her name was Sara. She was fourteen and I was fifteen but we were both in Miss. Watson's class. Her wrists. Her wrists were beautiful. I sat in biology class, staring at the picket rabbit foetus in its jar, listening while Mr. Hird said it was an adolescent phase that people outgrew. Sara did. I didn't.

In 1976 I stopped pretending and took a girl called Christine home to meet my parents. A week later I enrolled at drama college. My mother said I broke her heart.

But it was my integrity that was important. Is that so selfish? It sells for so little, but it's all we have left in this place. It is the very last inch of us. But within that inch we are free.

London. I was happy in London. In 1981 I played Dandini in Cinderella. My first rep work. The world was strange and rustling and busy, with invisible crowds behind the hot lights and all that breathless glamour. It was exciting and it was lonely. At nights I'd go to the Crew-Ins or one of the other clubs. But I was stand-offish and didn't mix easily. I saw a lot of the scene, but I never felt comfortable there. So many of them just wanted to be gay. It was their life, their ambition. And I wanted more than that.

Work improved. I got small film roles, then bigger ones. In 1986 I starred in "The Salt Flats." It pulled in the awards but not the crowds. I met Ruth while working on that. We loved each other. We lived together and on Valentine's Day she sent me roses and oh God, we had so much. Those were the best three years of my life.

In 1988 there was the war, and after that there were no more roses. Not for anybody.

In 1992 they started rounding up the gays. They took Ruth while she was out looking for food. Why are they so frightened of us? They burned her with cigarette ends and made her give them my name. She signed a statement saying I'd seduced her. I didn't blame her. God, I loved her. I didn't blame her.

But she did. She killed herself in her cell. She couldn't live with betraying me, with giving up that last inch. Oh Ruth. . . .

They came for me. They told me that all of my films would be burned. They shaved off my hair and held my head down a toilet bowl and told jokes about lesbians. They brought me here and gave me drugs. I can't feel my tongue anymore. I can't speak.

The other gay women here, Rita, died two weeks ago. I imagine I'll die quite soon. It's strange that my life should end in such a terrible place, but for three years I had roses and I apologized to nobody.

I shall die here. Every last inch of me shall perish. Except one.

An inch. It's small and it's fragile and it's the only thing in the world worth having. We must never lose it, or sell it, or give it away. We must never let them take it from us.

I don't know who you are. Or whether you're a man or a woman. I may never see you or cry with you or get drunk with you. But I love you. I hope that you escape this place. I hope that the world turns and that things get better, and that one day people have roses again. I wish I could kiss you.

Valerie

from V for Vendetta

Written by Alan Moore.

Art by David Lloyd.

[raplinesmoon]

Man of The Year (MYG x GN!Reader)

pairing: single dad!Yoongi x gn!reader genre(s): pure fluff, very minor angst au(s): graduation au word count: 2.7k warnings: some swearing, Yoongi is a little nervous, Yoongi is bad at flirting, this is so cute I could cry

rating: PG

summary: For the longest time, it’s always been Yoongi and his daughter, celebrating every milestone of life together. But today, that could change.

a/n: omg isi updating back to back fics? who is she? anyway this is inspired by that viral post of a little girl proudly taking pics of her dad on graduation day. thank you mars @joheunsaram​ for showing me the post and also letting me use her idea! i hope i did this justice. also inspired by one of my classmates who brought their little one dressed in a cap and gown to walk across the stage with them (so cute)! and big congrats to the class of 2022, i’m so proud of all the graduates, you deserve the world!!

listen to: man of the year by logic

A bead of sweat pools at the back of Yoongi’s head, sliding down his neck and into the special black robe he’d adorned. A heavy sigh escapes his throat. He’d probably have to get the robe dry cleaned. Another $10 spent on an item he’d never keep after today, and he knows money had been tight for the last little while. He’d barely been able to squeak by and pay Eunha’s school fees this month, begging his PI for a last-minute raise, who’d reluctantly acquiesced, knowing Yoongi was graduating soon anyway.

Yoongi resists the urge to scratch the itch that popped up mere moments ago and has now bloomed into a painful nuisance. Why were these outfits so damn scratchy? He’d never understand it.

“Appa,” his ears perk up at the small voice, the tiny hand clutching his own, and his fingers wind tighter around Eunha’s. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

Yoongi’s heart begins to pound even harder, and he feels like his world is caving in on itself. The meticulous plan he’d had for today had already begun falling apart at the seams, its delicate threads taunting him amidst the air conditioning of the auditorium.

He checks his watch. 9:50. The ceremony was supposed to start in ten minutes. No time to waste.

He scoops up Eunha’s tiny body in his hands, mind racing as he rushes out the doors, excusing himself when he bumps into random family members and friends of his fellow graduates. He can feel their stares, some of them full of pity and others full of scorn, but he pays them no mind. He was used to the scrutiny that came with being a single father, especially at his age.

“Eunha, baby,” he sets her down by the restrooms. “Can you go in all by yourself? Appa will be outside waiting right here for you, okay?”

If Eunha sees the desperate look in her appa’s eyes, she doesn’t say anything, giving him a firm nod.

“I’m a big girl, Appa! Don’t worry,” she reassures him, and Yoongi chokes back a few tears. His little girl was growing up, and it felt like life was moving chaotically fast. Soon enough, Eunha would be starting second grade, and then she wouldn’t need Yoongi to tie her shoes anymore, she wouldn’t need him to drop her off at the bus anymore, she wouldn’t need him to hold her hand when they went places anymore. The thought of it makes Yoongi’s heart hurt.

It was hard for Yoongi to remember life before Eunha. Her mom had been an old fling, one he’d forgotten had even fallen into his bed after a few rounds of shots. Until months later, when she’d shown up with a baby in her arms that she’d thrust upon Yoongi, who was young, stressed and yet to graduate college.

The moment Yoongi had picked up the little bundle in his arms, it had been love at first sight, her big eyes looking up at him as her pink gums broke out into the biggest smile. And from that day, he was no longer just Yoongs, Yoongo, Suga (his college friends’ stupid nickname for him). He was someone’s Appa. Someone so small and tiny and helpless, this little girl who trusted him with every fiber of her being, who had no one else. And so he became everything to her. Her caretaker, her best friend, her closest confidante.

His years, the prime ones of his youth, were no longer spent chasing money, girls, or booze. Instead, they were spent chasing after his graduate degree with Eunha by his side; busy mornings with the both of them rushing, her hair in two sloppy braids, as Yoongi dropped her off for the bus, silently cursing because he was late to class. His nights had been spent in the research lab, extracting and interpolating numerous data points while Eunha spun around on the rotating chairs, Yoongi sending up a silent prayer every five minutes that she wouldn’t choose an expensive piece of equipment to play with. But he wouldn’t change it for the world.

And no matter how many people told him that today was the best day of his life, he’d shut them down with a gentle smile, clutching his baby’s hand tighter, refuting their claims because it didn’t even come close to the moment he’d met his Eunha.

“Appa,” he jolts out of his daydream, finding Eunha standing next to him, looking up curiously at him. She giggled, a boisterous and beautiful sound echoing off the high ceilings, at the far-off look in his eyes. “Did you fall asleep?”

“No baby,” Yoongi reassures her, crouching to her height to smooth over the creases in her outfit and brush her bangs out of her eyes. “Appa was just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” She questions him, but it was at that moment Yoongi chose to look at his watch again. 10:01. Shit. Storytime would have to wait for now, they had a graduation to get to.

“Eunha, no matter what you do, don’t let go of Appa’s hand, okay?” Yoongi says nervously, the size of the crowd that had begun to accumulate in the auditorium grating on his nerves. It was so easy to lose sight of a child in here. That’s why he had to be extra careful.

“Oooo-kayyy Appa!” Eunha says loudly, and a few heads turn in their direction. 

“Oops,” Eunha says, clamping a hand over her mouth. “Inside voice, I forgot.”

Yoongi gives her a fond smile, ruffling her hair, never letting go as he leads Eunha to their seats. Just two of them in the long row that seemed to stretch on forever. He sets his nerves aside for long enough to remember to let Eunha take the aisle seat, just so she’d be spared the awkward interaction with any one of his classmates who wondered why Yoongi had brought along a six-year-old girl with him. Shaking his head, he wishes his parents had been able to attend today. Their flight had been unexpectedly delayed, because nothing could ever seem to go as planned in Yoongi’s crazy, chaotic life. His eomma had been so upset, fussing that he’d have to spend his special day taking care of Eunha, but Yoongi had reassured her they’d be fine. They always had been, always would be.

Surprisingly, Eunha holds it together for most of the ceremony. Yoongi knew how difficult it was to keep children's attention, and even he found it hard to keep his eyes open through most of the unnecessary speeches. Or maybe he’d just skipped his morning Americano in the flurry of getting himself and Eunha ready. He looks over at her, her tiny figure leaned over in wonder, eyes trained on the stage, and is taken aback by the swirl of emotions on her face. He wasn’t quite sure Eunha understood what graduation was completely, but she seemed to grasp that it was a special, important, and emotional day for many people in the audience, and Yoongi couldn’t be prouder.

The announcer drones on, calling through the alphabet listlessly, and one by one, people disappear from the crowd to have their shining moment. Soon, the Ms arrive, and Yoongi’s nerves kick in. He couldn’t just leave Eunha alone in the audience when it was his time to go. No, that would not work at all. What if someone scooped her up? Or she started crying wondering where he went?

“Appa,” Eunha whines softly next to him. “My hair.”

He smooths through her tresses until they lay perfectly, twirling each long strand so delicately, that he almost misses the drone of “Yoongi Min” from the announcer.

“Yoongi Min?”

“F—” Yoongi starts, and then remembers his company. “Fiddlesticks! C’mon Eunha baby, let’s go up.”

In the most unexpected move of the night, Yoongi grabs his daughter’s hand, walking with her as she skips down the aisle, clad in a matching hat and robe similar to her father’s, and the two of them make their way up onto the stage.

Yoongi hopes he doesn’t trip, or that his hat doesn’t fall off when they hood him, or that for once, there are no quiet whispers, like the ones that plague his mind when he lies awake at night, wondering if he’s doing enough. If he’s good enough. But none of that happens.

Instead, thundering applause greets his ears, and the oohs and ahhs of the audience are apparent as he and Eunha walk across the stage, Yoongi clutching his daughter, his lifeline, as close to him as possible, while Eunha shyly buries her head in his chest. 

They’re clapping for him. He knows if he turns and looks at the crowd, he’ll see teary faces full of love and admiration, some of them standing on their feet, and his mind is unable to grasp that it’s all for him. Him and his Eunha. For once, Yoongi doesn’t feel like a subpar dad, or a struggling student. As the applause goes on, and Yoongi reaches the dean, he scoops up Eunha with one arm, shyly accepting the piece of paper he’d worked so hard for, both the loves and labors of his life finding him in this one moment.

“Congratulations Min family,” the dean says to Yoongi, his own tears pooling in his eyes. “You deserve it.”

“Appa! Smile please!” Eunha stomps her little foot in frustration, hauling her bee shaped bag over her shoulders like she’s a middle-aged mom asking to speak to the manager and not Yoongi’s daughter.

“I thought I was smiling in the last one!” Yoongi protests with a laugh, reaching out to pinch her cheek, but she turns away with a scowl.

“Appaaaaa! The pictures aren’t good,” she wails in exasperation, reaching out to show him his phone’s camera.  Yoongi had to admit, the photo was awkward, his smile nervous and his hands hovering in a strange position. He never knew what to do with them.

But he couldn’t throw in the towel, not when Miss Eunha was staring him down, hands on her hips, determined to get one good picture of her Appa, the proud graduate.

Yoongi smirks, giving the camera a slight wave, and hears a click-click-click, the shutter going off. 

“Better!” Eunha yells. “Be happy Appa! Today is a happy day!”

Something in Yoongi breaks at her joy, and the smile comes naturally and perfectly, and he knows they’ve gotten the shot.

“Do you wanna see Appa?” She holds the camera out to him, and he crouches to her height, squatting on his knees as the two of the study the picture.

“Excuse me?” A voice interrupts them, and Yoongi looks up to see the figure of a stranger, blocked out by the rays of sunlight, approaching them. He braces Eunha protectively behind him.

“Would you like me to take one of the both of you?” The voice asks again, and Yoongi realizes it belongs to a stranger. A very pretty stranger, in an outfit that was way too fancy to belong to a college student.

“I’m so sorry to intrude,” you continue, smiling brightly. “But I saw you both from way over there and you’re just too cute! You have to get a picture together!”

He sees you pause, and he prepares himself for what’s coming next, the question that’s always at the tip of everyone’s tongue. But it never comes. Instead, you offer him a dazzling smile, your previous offer shining with sincerity, and he feels himself flush under your gaze.

“I, uh, uhmmm,” he spits out, and somehow wonders how he’d made it through an entire PhD defense when he can barely utter two words in your presence. Maybe he’s more out of practice than he thought. After all, it wasn’t like being a dad and a grad student offered much time in the way of dating.

“Yes you can!” Eunha answers for him. “My appa grad-u-nated today! It’s a happy day!”

You coo at the cuteness of the little girl, her pride and admiration for her father shining brighter than the sun on this warm summer day. 

“Wow!” you remark. “Graduating is an amazing thing for sure! I bet your Appa is very smart and hard-working.” Yoongi blushes harder at your compliments. There’s a strange lilt in your voice, one that he hasn’t heard in many years. Could you… possibly be flirting with him?

“He is, he is!” Eunha agrees with you, shrieking in excitement. “My appa is the smartest person I know!”

“That’s awesome!” you reply, giving her an enthusiastic high-five. “You should be very proud of him.”

Looking up at the man, his eyes are still trained on the ground, almost like he’s embarrassed by being gushed about in this manner. Well, you think to yourself, he shouldn’t be. From the couple of moments you’d spent in his presence, it was clear that he was incredibly smart, and an amazing father. Not to mention incredibly handsome, his raven-colored locks shining in the light, a soft gummy smile appearing when he looks at his daughter.

“I’m proud of you Appa!” the little girl echoes, and you hear a choking sound, one that sounds like the man trying an awful lot to hold back a sob, You have to try hard to contain your own tears at the precious, tender moment you’d become privy to.

“Well,” you say, rubbing at your eyes. “How about that picture?”

The man and his daughter pose together, hugging each other tightly, bright smiles on both their faces, and you can’t help but giggle happily at how perfect they look, clicking a photo for them.

“It’s beautiful,” the man says quietly, staring fondly at the photo on his phone. He looks at you, and you’re taken aback by the deep emotions swirling in his eyes. Pretty, you think. Just like the rest of him.

“Thank you for this,” he says, reaching his hand out for you to shake. “My name’s Yoongi, and this is my daughter Eunha.”

Taking his hand in yours, there’s a million questions you want to ask him: is he alone? where is Eunha’s mom? why do his eyes look so sad?

But you keep them to yourself. The answers didn’t matter anyway, it was clear the two of them loved each other more than life itself.

“I’m ___,” you don’t know what prompts you to introduce yourself back to him. After all, it wasn’t like the two of you would ever see each other again.

Or maybe…

“___!” Eunha says enthusiastically, grabbing your hand. “Appa and I were going to have a pizza party to celebrate his grad-u-nation! You should come too!”

“Eunha!” Yoongi chastises, his cheeks redder than a tomato. “I’m sure ___ is busy, and besides, it’s supposed to be straight to bed after dinner, baby. You have school tomorrow, remember?”

“Appa pleeeeaaasee! I want ___ to come! Maybe you can have a new friend,” Eunha whines, the hidden implication of her words lost on her innocent mind.

“I, uh, oh gosh, I’m so sorry, she’s normally not this outgoing, I swear, I don’t know what’s gotten into her today,” Yoongi rambles nervously, eyes flitting from side to side. “You don’t have to join us at all.”

Taking a deep breath, you resign yourself to the fact that Yoongi doesn’t want you there. 

“Okay,” you say softly. “But celebrate lots for me, alright? You should be proud of yourself.”

Turning on your heel, you walk away, making your way down the campus path. Not even a few moments pass by when you hear the pounding of heavy footsteps behind you, lighter ones following in their wake.

“___,” Yoongi’s rich baritone calls out, and you turn to see him, flushed and sweating underneath his dark robes. 

“I, uh, fuck,” Yoongi continues.

“Appa!” Eunha chastises him. “Bad word.”

“Sorry,” Yoongi says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I, uhm, wanted to ask if you’d reconsider joining me and Eunha for a pizza party.” 

The words tumble out in a rush, and he looks at your puzzled expression, quickly adding:

“Only if you’re free, of course.”

“Only if you promise to let Eunha have extra cheese,” you answer him with a wink, watching the way his throat bobs. From behind you, Eunha claps her hands excitedly.

“Okay,” Yoongi says, his gummy smile making another rare appearance. “Okay, extra cheese on me. After all, today is a happy day.”

A/N pt. 2: Thanks for reading! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

[hotch-stufff]

Kiss The Girl

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings!: angst, pining(lots of it), crying, arguing, but a fluffy ending, like super fluffy ending :)

Word Count: 3.7k words

Description: Hotch tries to deny it, but he's madly in love with you. He keeps getting this urge to just kiss you. Could it really be that easy?

A/N: not really sure what this is, but I was listening to that new cover of kiss the girl by Brent Morgan and I really wanted wrote this. It definitely took a turn i was not expecting, but I hope you guys love it as much as I do. :)

*Based off the song "Kiss the Girl"*

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

He loved you. It was no secret.

Everyone knew, everyone except maybe him.

Or maybe he did know, but he refused to accept it. He couldn't love you. It was wrong. But if it was wrong, why on earth did it feel so good?

There, you see her, Sitting there, across the way

She don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her

He wasn't the best at sharing his feelings. He was good at locking them away, and throwing away the key. But you, you made that hard.

There was just something about you. It drew him in, and he was hooked.

Maybe it was the way you giggled when you were nervous. Or maybe it was the blush that tinted your cheeks when someone gave you a compliment. Maybe it was the way you showed Hotch the happiness he needed in his darkest times.

He wasn't sure, but he knew you were special. He was sure he knew exactly when these feelings had started. It was the night of Rossi's Christmas party.

You sat on Rossi's couch, laughing along with Morgan and Prentiss. They had made some very very inappropriate joke, that you just thought was hilarious. 

"Okay, h-hang on. I need a refill." You gasped out between laughs. You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing the wine before pouring yourself a glass.

"Hey." You nearly squealed as Hotch came in the room behind you.

"Jesus Hotch, could have given me a heart attack." He simply chuckled. "Yeah, laugh it up." You playfully rolled your eyes.

"I'm sorry." He tried to hide his smile.

"Yeah, you sound it." You walked towards him, giving him a soft smile as the teasing atmosphere faded. The room was empty, and you wouldn't be able to ever work up the courage again.

"Merry Christmas Hotch." You whispered as you leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You pulled back, gave him a small smile, and walked back to the living room.

Aaron stood there, shocked. 

Why had you don't that? Why had he liked it? Would you do it again?

The questions repeated in his head, over and over. And he realised that a peck on the cheek wouldn't be enough. 

He needed a kiss, a real kiss. Even just one from you and he would be satisfied for life. But that, was an impossible dream. Or, so he thought.

And you don't know why, but you're dyin' to try

You wanna kiss the girl

Months had passed since then and he still hadn't gotten another kiss from you. 

You two had grown increasingly close however. You were practically inseparable. Always at one of your houses, talking, watching movies, eating. You name it.

Although watching movies was usually with Jack, and currently he was stuck on repeating the Little Mermaid.

"Miss Y/n?" He asked one night.

"Yes Jackers?" You asked, looking down at the small boy.

"Can we please, watch the little mermaid with daddy?" He begged. He used those puppy dog eyes and you were sold.

"Of course we can." You heard a chuckle come from behind you and you whipped around.

"Didn take you long to give in, huh?" Hotch questioned, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh shut it Hotchner. Go get the popcorn." He laughed and shook his head before walking to the kitchen.

Soon you found yourself wrapped up with the Hotcner boys. Jack was curled up on your lap, his face buried in your neck as he fell asleep.

As you and Hotch watched the movie, he snuck glances every couple of minutes. He couldn't get over how beautiful you looked. 

And you were holding his son, loving him like he could be your own. It filled Hotch's heart with love and affection.

And then that song began playing softly in the background

Yes, you want her

Look at her, you know you do

The lyrics spoke a truth that Hotch was desperately trying to avoid. 

But he didn't know how much longer he could go without telling you. In the moment he couldn't remember why he hadn't told you already.

Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her

It don't take a word, not a single word

Go on and kiss the girl

All he wanted to do was reach over and bring you into a kiss. Just a simple kiss. 

Just to feel your lips move together. Just for a second. He almost did. You had turned to look at him, and he leaned in slightly. His hand raising. 

But the shrill sound of his phone broke the trance. His hand receded before you could grab it. And he didn't kiss you.

You were filled with a disappointment that you couldn't explain. 

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, my, oh, my, look like the boy too shy, He ain't gonna kiss the girl

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, ain't that sad? Ain't it a shame? Too bad, He gonna miss the girl

The music of the movie faded as a grim look replaced the carefree one on Hotch's face. 

"We'll be right in." He muttered out the words with disdain, sending you an apologetic look.

But you barely noticed, you were still trying to calm down the beating of your heart.

He was going to kiss you.

Did he feel the same way that you did?

All thoughts left your mind though as you felt Jack wake in your arms.

"Hey buddy." He looked up at you with the eyes he shared with his father.

"Do you have to leave?" Your heart broke a little bit at his questions.

"Yeah, bud. I'm sorry." He just smiled at you and burrows further into your chest.

"Its 'kay." He mumbled sleepily. "But we have to wait till Aunt Jess gets here so we can keep cuddling." Your heart swelled and your face lit up. Hotch was staring at the two of you, in awe. His son loved you so much. 

You looked over at him, a tear in your eye. He swallowed as he pushed his feelings aside, giving you a soft smile before getting up to get dressed.

He was screwed.

A couple cases later, and you were holed up in a precinct, everyone nearly falling asleep.

It was a bad case, a really bad case. And you were running out of time. The unsubs' latest victim only had about a day left.

But nobody could work if they were falling asleep. Eventually Hotch sighed and told everyone it was time to head to the hotel.

But of course, once there, there were only 4 rooms.

"I'm taking my own room. I'm old." Rossi said and grabbed the key before anyone could argue.

"C'mon pretty boy." Morgan grabbed another key, and walked off with spence.

"I'll go with Jj. Y/l/n, you good with Hotch?" Your face went bright red at Prentiss's words. But you nodded, looking anywhere but at Hotch. You couldn't say no, it would be too obvious.

"Y-yeah, that's fine." You all trudged to the elevator, Emily and Jj said goodnight and walked off once you reached your floor. You and Hotch walked in silence down the hall to the very last room.

He swung the door open, and you had to stop yourself from gasping. There was only one bed.

"I'll uh, I'll take the floor." You scrunched your nose at Hotch's offer and he couldn't deny how adorable you looked.

"Hotch, no. That will kill your back." You shook your head. "We can share. We're both adults, it's fine." You're not sure if you're convincing yourself or him. He just nods and gives a soft okay.

"Do you want the first shower?" He asked. 

"Um, no. I shower in the mornings." He nodded before walking into the bathroom.

Why was this so awkward? You guys were such good friends, this shouldn't be so weird. 

You pushed the thought aside before crawling into the bed and curling up.

Hotch walked out of the bathroom 10 minutes later in nothing but a towel.

Your eyes grew and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. He cleared his throat, and you looked up at his eyes.

"Uh sorry, forgot my bag." You nodded, looking away quickly. Too scared to speak. He quickly went back into the bathroom.

"Get a hold of yourself." You whispered to yourself. You weren't going to survive this case if he did that again. He joined you in bed soon after getting dressed.

Neither of you spoke, neither of you moved, neither of you breathed. It was completely silent.

After about 20 minutes of silence and trying desperately to fall asleep you spoke up.

"Hotch?" 

"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse.

"Um, I can't sleep." You turned towards him and he did the same.

"Neither can I." You sighed.

"How's Jack?" You asked, trying to bring up the mood, or to at least get rid of the awkwardness. It seemed to work because his face lit up at the mention of his son.

"He's good. He actually just asked if you could come over soon. He got an A plus on his spelling test that you helped him study for and he really wants to show you." You smiled as you listened.

"That's great! He was so nervous for that test." 

"Yeah, thank you Y/n for helping him." You grabbed his hand, squeezing gently.

"Of course Hotch. I love Jack." You muttered, and you fell into silence again.

But it was more content, more peaceful. Your hands stayed laced together, and Hotch's mind went blank as you started leaning closer.

Now's your moment

Floating in a blue lagoon

Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better

He started leaning in, his hand moved from your own to cup your face. But something switched in his mind. What was he doing? This was wrong. He couldn't let this happen. 

Your faces were inches apart when he pulled his hand away and scooted backwards slightly.

Look like the boy too shy

He ain't gonna kiss the girl

Your face fell, and his heart squeezed painfully.

"Um, we should go to bed." You were so confused. You thought that was it. It was perfect. He, he pulled away though. Why had he pulled away?

You could almost physically see his walls being built up.

Walls you had spent so much time breaking down.

"Oh, um. O-okay." You stuttered out, pulling back  quickly.

"Goodnight Y/n." He said softly, but you didn't respond. You were too scared you would cry if you did. 

You fell asleep faster than you anticipated, but maybe you were just that tired. 

He was gone when you woke up.

You thought everything might just go back to the way it was after that night.

But boy were you wrong. Hotch had completely pulled away from you.

No longer did he invite you over, or invite you to do paperwork in his office with him

You didn't watch movies, or go out to eat, or even talk about anything other than work. It was hell.

You tried, you really tried to get him to open up again, but it just didn't work. Nothing did.

It was to the point where he would be almost rude to you. 

The team was beginning to notice. And you couldn't hold back any longer. It was killing you.

You needed to talk to him, past this wall he had put up. You needed to know why he was pushing you away. You walked up to his door, knocking on the door.

"Come in." He said softly. You walked in, and his eyes stayed trained on the paperwork in front of him.

"Hotch?" He still didn't look up.

"How can I help you Agent Y/l/n?" He asked, his voice not wavering from professionalism. You shut the door behind you and walked forward, sitting in one of the chairs.

"We need to talk." He was taken aback slightly by the determination in your voice, but he sighed before setting down his pen.

"What is it?" He sounded almost annoyed, which just made you angrier.

"What the hell is going on?" You didn't mean to be so rude about it, but you needed to know.

"Excuse me?" 

"Seriously Hotch, we went from talking almost every day, to not speaking unless it has something to do with work."

"Y/l/n…" he went to stop you.

"No. Hotch please. I don't know what I did." You begged. "I mean you can't even use my name anymore." You whispered.

"This is very unprofessional." he wasn't breaking.

"Please Aaron. Don't lie to me." You tried his first name, and he had never loved his name being spoken more than when you said it. But he had to stop this.

"Agent Y/l/n. I'm sorry if our friendship was confus-" but you cut him off.

"We weren't just friends. You know that and I know that." He had the audacity to look confused. But he knew exactly what you were talking about.

Don't try to hide it how, You wanna kiss the girl

"Please Aaron, don't pretend, not with me."

"Agent Y/l/n! That's enough!" His voice was rising. 

He didn't understand why you couldn't just let it go.

"No it's not. I love you Aaron, I'm sorry. But I do. And it hurts so much that you are pushing me away!" Your eyes filled with tears and Hotch stood there, awed that you felt this way. But he couldn't let you in. So he took that final heartbreaking step.

"I don't love you." He whispered out. You had been standing and you took a staggering step backwards. 

"What?" Your voice was small.

"I don't love you Y/n." The lie was tearing him apart. Why was he doing this again?

Tears began falling down your face. You were upset and mad and heartbroken. And you were embarrassed that this man had this much of a hold on you.

"Fine." You sniffed. "If that's how you feel Agent Hotchner." He missed the way you said Aaron and flinched at the formal title. But this was what he wanted. "I apologize for the unprofessionalism." You turned to leave, but stopped when he spoke.

"Y/n…" His voice was small, strained. You wiped away your tears. When you looked back, his eyes were glossy.

But he didn't say anything else and you kept walking, slamming the door behind you. The bullpen silenced and everyone stared at you.

It was humiliating, but you walked to Rossi's office, your head held high.

"Rossi?" 

"Y/l/n, what's wrong?" He asked, like he hadn't heard the conversation through his shared wall with Hotch. 

"Can you please tell Hotch that I'm sick and I won't be in for a while?" Your voice wavered slightly, but you ignored it.

"Y/n-" he started, but you didn't feel like talking.

"Please Rossi?" You begged, praying he would just say yes so you could leave.

"Yes, of course." You nodded and thanked him before leaving. You slipped down to your desk and grabbed your bag. 

You didn't see Hotch standing in the doorway of his office, watching you as you left, tears silently slipping down your face.

Your teammates asked what was happening, but you just waved them off and left.

They all turned to Hotch, but he was already back in his office, his door slamming for the second time that day.

You wanna kiss the girl

A week passed, and you hadn't come back to work yet. Hotch wasn't sure what to do with himself. He hated what he did.

The team was confused, Rossi kept sending him angry glances, and your empty desk was haunting him.

And then, Jack asked that question. The question that broke him just a little more.

"Why doesn't Miss Y/n come over anymore daddy?" He had asked one night at dinner.

He didn't know how to answer. "Does she not love us anymore?" His eyes were big and glossy like he was going to cry. He decided not to lie to his son.

"Daddy made a mistake and Miss Y/n is just a little sad right now." Jack didn't understand what was happening, but he wanted to help fix it. His dad had been so sad these past couple of weeks and it made him sad. 

"Daddy, you have to say sorry! And you have to do what the song says!" Hotch looked at his son confused. What song?

"What song buddy?" He asked, pulling his son into his lap.

"You know, you have to kiss the girl!" He giggled like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"The little mermaid song?" He asked, smiling at his son's innocence. 

"Yes, remember, you and Y/n were sitting on the couch before you left for work, and you were going to kiss her!" Hotch looks shocked, Jack was awake for that?

"Um, buddy. Me and Y/n aren't together." He sighed as his son deflated.

"But why? You love her. And she loves you." He spoke, confused as to what was happening.

"Um.." Hotch drew a blank. He couldn't give this little boy an answer. Not when it was his fault. Not when he was the one that had said no. 

It was a mistake, a huge mistake. He should have just told you.  Why hadn't he?

He should have kissed you.

The first time, or the second time. He should have told you that he loved you too. Was it too late? 

"Um, buddy, you know what? It's time for bed." Hotch put his son to sleep and called Rossi, asking him to come over.

He prayed he wasn't too late. Rossi showed up at his door 20 minutes later.

"Hotch-" but he knew.

"I know, I'm an idiot. But I have to go tell her I love her too." He was rushing, grabbing his keys.

"Atta boy Aaron." Was all Rossi said as Hotch ran out the door, jumping in his car.

He was sure he was going faster than the speed limit, but he couldn't care less. He needed to see you, and to be with you. To tell you that he loved you.

His car was barely parked when he jumped out and ran up to your door, banging on it.

You heard the noise wondering who would come over so late. You were shocked to find Hotch there as you opened the door.

There, you see her, Sitting there, across the way

She don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her

"Y/n." Was all he said. You slammed the door in his face.  He began banging his fist in the door and you threw it open, again.

"Leave Hotch." 

"Please, Y/n, just hear me out." He begged. You hesitated, but moved to the side letting him in. You shut the door softly.

Yes, you want her, Look at her, you know you do

Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her

"What do you want, Hotch? What more could you possibly want?" He shook his head, holding his tears at bay.

"Aaron." He spoke quietly.

"What?" 

"Please, it's Aaron." 

"Agent Hotchner. You need to leave." But he didn't leave. He stood there and stared at you. 

"I'm so sorry Y/n." 

"Hotch, seriously, I can't do this. I can't." You tried to keep those tears in, you were tired of crying over him, but there was no point. You felt then slip down your face.

Words weren't working, he had already said enough. But he remembered Jacks words. 

The song.

Now's your moment, Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better

She don't say a word and she won't say a word, Until you kiss the girl

He stepped forward and brought his hand up to your face. He leaned in slowly, and brought your lips to his. 

Your heart stopped, and you kissed him back desperately. You had wanted this for so long. You had waited for so. Damn. Long.

"Your so stupid." You murmured against his lips. He pulled away gasping for air.

"I know" his voice was beautiful.

You've gotta kiss the girl, Go on and kiss the girl

He leaned in again, kissing you like his life depended on it. He gently ran his thumb across your cheek as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you forward. He broke away a moment later.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I was an idiot. I love you." A tear escaped his eye, and you brushed it away. "I dont expect you to forgive me. I wouldn't forgive me if I was you. I was awful, and I never should have lied and said I didn't love you too. I shouldn't have pushed you away."

"Why did you?" He hesitated, he wasn't sure you would understand.

"The last time I let someone in my heart, she left. And then she got hurt because of me. I couldn't risk that happening to you." He shook his head.

"Oh Aaron. I'm not leaving. I don't ever want to leave you. I love you too much to leave." You paused. "And you can't hide and be scared to open your heart. Its okay to let people in." You added softly and he gave you a smile.

You both stood there in blissful peace, your foreheads touching. He chuckled and you looked at him confused.

"What?"

"I kissed the girl." You just grew more confused.

"What are you talking about?" You asked humor in your voice.

"The song. Jack said I had to do what the little mermaid song said." You understood then and began giggling. 

"Maybe, maybe you should do it again." You suggested, a smile on your face.

"Hmm, maybe I should." And he leaned in again for another breathtaking kiss.

.....................

"And that is how me and your dad got together." Your three kids sat in front of you listening in awe. 

"Wow, so Jack is why he finally told you he loved you?" Your middle child, Tommy asked. Jack laughed as he stood up, tapping your shoulder as he towered over you. 

"You could say that." Aaron said from the doorway, you turned, smiling at your husband. 

"Yeah, sure." You giggled and ruffled Jack's hair as you picked up your nine year old daughter, Jenna. Who, in all honesty, was almost too big to be picked up.

"Mommy, can you tell us that story every night?" She asked, and you smiled. 

"Of course I can sweat pea. But now, its bed time." You tucked in your kids, giving them each a kiss on the forehead before joining your husband in your room.

You plopped on the bed and curled up into his side.

"Hi sweetheart." He greeted you with a kiss, and he pulled you into his side. "You know, you didn't need to make me sound so…" he couldn't quite find the word.

"Stupid? Clueless? Dumb?" You asked, giggling as he began digging his fingers into your side, tickling you. 

"St-stop. Aaron!" You shrieked and he let up, but not before plopping on top of you. He began peppering kisses all over your face.

"I'm glad you finally told that story. Jenna has been begging for weeks" Your youngest had watched the little mermaid a couple of weeks ago and Jack had made a comment about one of the songs. Jenna had heard one word and was begging for us to tell her our "falling in love story", as she put it. 

You had finally given in and told them, and they had loved every moment of it. Jack of course had already known, having witnessed it. 

But Jenna and Tommy had loved hearing how their parents had fallen in love. 

And a week later when you walked in the living room you were filled with a sense of nostalgia as you saw Jack with Jenna in his lap, as Tommy and Aaron sat on the couch next to them. Watching, of course, the little mermaid. You plopped next to Aaron, smiling. 

As Kiss The Girl started playing.

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

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! If you would like an idea of what to request, here is my prompt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[eremiie]

study session, sex songs

❥ armin x reader | nsfw | 2.3k words

❥ content: semi public sex, vaginal fingering, a sex tape

❥ a/n; an ask i got that i took an ss of and then tumblr deleted my asks, but i HAD to do this🙄!!!

you were bored.

you were so bored that the sound of the rain drops hitting the window next to you was almost a form of entertainment, or maybe the shuffling of people trading books on the shelf.

at this point anything was better than the piece of paper and book in front of you. you had been staring at the words so long that they were all the same. you were rereading the same sentence over and over again, and aimlessly sketching small drawings on the paper in front of you.

studying wasn't your strong pursuit, especially with your boyfriend next to you, who seemed to love it. at the thought of him, your eyes glanced over— a sight for sore eyes when you had been staring at chemistry notes for the past half hour.

a pencil was dancing on paper in between his slender fingers, jumping with every lift of his hand and coming back down to the white sheet like a figure skater on ice. he wore glasses to study, large frames sitting on the bridge of his nose, his hair so close to touching them. those same blonde locks almost hid the earphones that were snug in both ears, and you wondered if whatever he was listening to is what helped him study so diligently. his tongue stuck out just a little bit in concentration, while his eyes flit back and forth between the paper in front of him and the book above it.

he must've been watching you watch him, his attention turning towards you and the mechanical pencil coming to a quick halt mid sentence. he set it down to the table gently, and you lifted yourself off of the surface to balance your head on the palm of your hand. "armin." a whine of his name, clear discontent laced in your voice.

"yeah?" his reply was so simple, so innocent. as if he didn't drag you to the library with him, practically pleading for you to just sit down and study with you knowing you hated studying, especially in the atmosphere of a library. there were too many distractions and you weren't comfortable. not to mention the fact that you were clad in a skirt.

"i can't study, can we just go?" his expression didn't change at the sound of your complaints, eyes still calm and lips still together in a line. you didn't want to come in the first place, he should at least give you the liberty of leaving when you asked— especially considering how long you had been in the quiet library.

"do you think listening to something will help?" armin's eyebrows came together as his hand came to point at the earphones in his ear. you really didn't want to stay, but when you thought about the focus your boyfriend was in that you broke you did feel a little bad.

your legs shifted from under the table and you sat back in your seat, crossing your arms in your lap and letting out a sigh, eyes traveling around the vast library. when they landed back on armin the earbud was already sitting pretty between his fingertips. it was glaring at you and you were glaring at it, but nevertheless you leaned forward and plucked it from armin's fingers, his lips upturning when you did.

he slipped his hands in his pockets to fumble with his phone and you picked up the pencil in front of you to try and get back to studying, checking to see what page armin was on while you waited for the music to play in your ears. what music was armin into anyways? the last thing you could remember him listening to being a spotify playlist full of lo-fi beats.

only... it wasn't lo-fi beats that began to play.

or music.

your body went rigid, pencil in your hand beginning to feel heavy, leaving you to wonder how it hasn't clattered to the table yet. a chill ran down your spine because what you were listening to was all too familiar— from the wet sounds that happily made its way into your ear, to a moan of armin's name that sounded much too like your own voice.

it was your voice, because when you heard another moan it was armin's cry of your name.

it took you a minute to turn your head towards armin, his eyebrows raising over his eyes in question of what you could possibly want now. he hummed a small "hm?" to figure it out, as if it wasn't obvious. that look of innocence was played by him again, blue eyes twirling with curiosity as if there was anything to be curious about. as if your sex tape wasn't a reason for you to look at him funny— eyes blown and mouth agape.

when you didn't respond— only still staring at him dumbfounded, he shrugged his shoulders and continued to scribble on his stupidly neat paper.

were you hearing things right?

your eyes flashed, brows knit as you shoved armin's shoulder, his pencil flying off the paper and messing up the "e" he was in the midst of writing. "you messed up my paper." he grumbled, and oh, was he a little too good at this game he was playing with you.

"what is this?" you questioned, disregarding the flimsy sheet of paper he was writing on because that was clearly the least of his issues.

armin used his pencil to point to your book, confusion taking over the once curious look he had just moments ago. "...a study session i would assume." he wasn't letting up, and your lip twitched at his response.

"no— i mean what am i listening to?"

"well, out of everybody you should know." your body stiffened again, a slow blink at his response that came out almost too smoothly, words sliding off his tongue like silk. you had to pull your gaze away from him as he only did just what he did earlier, going right back to studying like there wasn't anything off about the moment you were sharing.

if he wanted to play with you, you'd just have to join in his game.

so with a huff of breath, and the lewd noises that were still playing in your ear you turned your body back towards your notes in front of you and tried to read them over again. your name was the only thing comprehendible on the sheet, every word below it a jumbled mess.

"light wave... light waves, diffraction pattern..." you spoke slowly, reading as if you were back in the first grade.

your hands moved down from the textbook and to the paper in front of you, nimble fingers forming words on the paper that you could only hope would make sense when you'd read them back.

diffraction pattern - occurs only

"only who?"

"only you fuck me like this, armin, please!"

the tail of your y went a little too low, and your legs turned to jello, squeezing together when you heard your voice swim through your ears. blood was rushing to your cheeks, and you leaned closer to your book, burying your nose in it despite not actually reading what was on the pages— at least well. with a suck of breath you continued to write,

diffraction pattern - occurs only you fu

your eyes shot open mid sentence, and you scrambled to spin the pencil around until the eraser met the paper, erasing what you had written furiously, and you swore you heard a small chuckle leave armin's lips, you biting your own and scrunching your nose up at your pitiful mistake.

your hands came up to rub at your temple, the sound of a moan armin drawled from you a couple nights ago was what you heard next, and it might’ve sounded nice those nights ago, but now it was embarrassing.

you squeezed your eyes shut, much like your legs and as flustered as you were you couldn’t help but feel... aroused.

it was something about hearing armin fuck into you so nice. the way that even though there was no visual for you to look at, you could visualize the moment so clearly— so vividly, because the more you listened the more you could remember making the tape, remembering what happened during the tape.

armin’s hands had slid up your back, a handful of your hair being grasped by his hand, a sinful arch being created by your back, and you let out a choked whimper, that you didn’t even realize you reciprocated in real life.

armin’s head slowly turned to you and his lips were forming a sick grin, and you would’ve been mad if you didn’t want him so bad, if you didn’t want every moment you could hear to stop being the past and become the present, the very moment that was playing in your ear to play out in front of you.

a whine, a pleading look on your face; eyebrows turned upwards and your hips grinding down into the chair below you.

armin could’ve almost laughed if he wanted to, and he almost did when your hand slid into his lap to grab his and pull it to the hem of your skirt, the fabric brushing lightly against his fingertips, but he didn’t push forward.

“armin,” his name never sounded so nice on your tongue, never sounded so desperate. your grip on his wrist tightened and urged him forward, and so he let them slip under the soft fabric of your skirt, and even past the band of your underwear, and the closer he inched towards your aching cunt the wider your legs spread for him.

his finger felt cold against your clit when he touched it, rubbing small circles right away, and your face looked like it was melting at his touch, your body was melting at his touch.

and he was being kinder than expected— letting his fingers dip down further until your slick allowed for him to enter into you, your body shivering at his touch, at the stretch.

your head fell forward onto the table with a louder than expected bang, and it caused both you and armin to jolt, the people around you stirring a bit.

you didn’t care too much, but armin did, his fingers stilling and his eyes going back to his textbook, eyes darting back and forth between the words as if he was really reading them, and you wanted to give him a prize for best actor right then and there.

“shh.” he said without looking your way, but his fingers began to move again, and you tried your best to not let out a moan. “gotta be quiet if you want me to fuck you with my fingers... this is what you want right?”

the sound in your ears were practically drowned out by your thoughts, by the squelches of your juices being moved around by armin’s middle finger, by the sounds that only you could hear— and maybe armin if he listened enough.

“yeah... i want it.” the small pants that were leaving your parted lips, and they only increased when armin inserted a second finger, his hand making itself comfortable in your underwear, fabric harshly rubbing against his pale hand with every thrust of his digits into your pussy. “want it so bad.”

you looked like a dog, a puppy in its heat, pushing your hips forward to get him deeper into you, but it just wasn’t enough.

you were needy and needed more, so your own hand smoothed down to your clit and you began to rub circles, whimpering at the sensation, the pleasure flooding through your lower half, almost making you dizzy.

hell, you were dizzy— drunk even; drunk on the lust that was twirling in your pretty head, and drunk on armin’s fingers— it was like the way his hand moved when he wrote notes, moving precisely and ease.

his fingers fucked up into you, curling when they were deep enough, and making your body lurch forward. “again.” you needed to feel that again. the fingers on your clit went a little faster, because you knew you were close. “again.”

and he did it again, hitting that spot that made you clench around him, and he kept doing it, and your fingers kept moving, you were progressively getting louder, but it didn’t matter as you were getting closer to coming as well.

and you did, body tensing up and every nerve in your body pinching, mouth dropped open and eyes rolling to the back of your head as your hand came to hover just over your mouth just in case any sound left you.

you slumped over onto the table, pulsing around armin’s fingers but your own slipping out of your skirt and onto the space of the chair your legs made.

armin finally let out a stupid small laugh, his soaked fingers finally leaving your sloppy cunt and entering his mouth, tongue twirling around your release. it was a shame you weren’t looking.

you could hear it though, the obnoxiously loud slurping sounds he made and the hum of content he made before popping his fingers out his mouth. what you couldn’t hear was the tape. it must’ve stopped in the middle of armin fingering you.

and you also heard the slide of armin’s chair against the floor of the library, the sound of a book cover meeting it’s back, and the shoving of books into a bag.

armin looked over his shoulder with a bored expression, one that was eerily similar to the look you had given him just earlier when you were bored of studying.

your eyes met his; eyes still calm and lips in a line once more... “i can’t study anymore. let’s just go.”

[beels-burger-babe]

A Little Voice Told Me - Pt.2

Poly! MC Summary: Words hurt and leave their scars. MC learns this the hard way after hearing some not-so-nice whispers about them while on a date with Beel. How are they supposed to be the partner of the seven lords of the Devildom when they just don't measure up? Part 1: HERE, Part 3: HERE ***Good Golly!! Y'all really like the angst, huh? Here you guys go. Cry your hearts out and enjoy! - B*** Beelzebub woke up the rest of his brothers early the next morning. While most of them attempted to flip him off or threaten him at the initial disturbance, all it took was him saying that they needed to talk about you for them to shoot out of bed. In a matter of minutes, all of them, except Levi, were seated around the breakfast table. "If we're talking about MC, why aren't they here?" Satan asked while poking at a piece of fruit. "I don't know about you, but I personally don't feel right talking about them behind their back." Belphie scoffed and laid his head in his arms. "It's not like we're gossiping about them or anything. They were acting off last night, and Beel thought we should discuss what we're gonna do about it." Beel nodded, "They pulled into themself halfway through the night, and was upset but kept brushing me off whenever I tried to talk to them about it." Mammon huffed and crossed his arms. "Maybe they just didn't feel like they could talk to ya about it," he rose to his feet and began to walk towards the door. "I'm the first! I'm sure I can get it out of them, easy peasy! I'll just head in there and-" "Mammon, sit down!" Lucifer hissed. Mammon grumbled under his breath but did as told. Lucifer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We've talked about this. Stop bringing up the whole 'first man' thing. MC is in a relationship with all of us. Not just you." The second-born pouted and stabbed an egg with his fork.

Lucifer rolled his eyes at his brother's antics and looked back at Beel. "Something clearly happened during the date. Do you have any ideas at all at what it could've been?" Asmodeus stirred a swirly straw around in his drink. "I mean, I would be pretty upset if I spent three hours of my evening at a barbaric sporting event too," Asmo chuckled and smirked. "The only good thing about sports is that you get to see all those rippling muscles of the athletes in action." Beel scowled at his brother took a bite out of the omelet that was on his plate. "It wasn't because of the game. MC loves coming to my Fangol games and was having a blast with me until halftime. Something had to have happened while I was gone." Asmodeus opened his mouth to counter the statement when Leviathan came rushing into the room carrying his laptop. Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the sight, "What have I told you about devices at the table?" Leviathan shot him an annoyed look as he plopped down in one of the chairs. "This isn't about table etiquette. This is about MC," he looked over at Beel and Belphie. "I think I have an idea on what may have caused them to start distancing themselves." Everyone perked up in interest at the news; each one of them eager to know what was distressing their loved one so much that they felt like they couldn't talk to them. "Well are you going to tell us, or are you just going to sit there?" Satan quipped, his anger beginning to get the better of him as he sat on the edge of his seat. Levi gave him a flat look before he typed a few things on his keyboard. "I was doing a raid last night trying to keep my mind off of what might've happened with MC and decided to ask my party members about it," Leviathan's expression darkened as he began to explain. It was clear to everyone that whatever was said, wasn't taken lightly by the otaku. Rather than reading the conversation out loud, he turned his laptop screen for all his brothers to see. Leviachan: Gaaah! I just can't focus on the game tonight. My partner came back from a date tonight and has been acting kind of sus. There's definitely something bothering them, but they refuse to tell anyone. Ruri-Chans-Husbando: Dude, you're talking about that stupid human right? Why are you even with them? You shouldn't give a Normie like them the time of day. Waifu-Addict: Exactly! Listen, we've all been talking and you need to drop that whore. They're totally just using you and your brothers for your titles and power. The demons read in horror and rage as the chat room filled with messages from the members of Leviathan's party all saying similar garbage about you and degrading you in every way they could think of. Satan stood up and began to pace near the table as he used every inch of his self-control to keep himself from lashing out. "I want names, Levi. Who are they and why do they seem to think it's okay to talk about MC like- like that?!" Satan snarled as he curled his hands into fists. Levi tsked and crossed his arms, as Lucifer took the laptop to look more closely at the messages. "You say that as if I haven't already used my 'title and power' as Grand Admiral to have my men collect and imprison them. They're at the navy base waiting for us to get our hands on them as soon as we sort this whole mess out." Belphie growled, now sitting up and wide awake. "Get our hands on them is right. No one gets away with this shit," Asmodeus glared at the computer as though it had just dyed all of his clothing brown. "Rotten brats. They're all just jealous of stunning MC. Ugh, Diavolo, haters are the worst." Beel pushed his plate away from himself as he frowned deeply. "As disgusting and horrible as this is, what does it have to do with MC getting all quiet during our date?" A low rumble came from Lucifer as he handed the laptop back to Levi. A fiery hatred was burning brightly in his eyes as he gritted his teeth. "If a bunch of anti-social shut-ins are going around talking about our dearest MC like this, I believe Leviathan's point is that others probably are."

"Ouch. I wasn't going to say it l-like that, but yes," Levi winced and continued, "MC probably overheard people saying something about them. I mean, if people said that crap about me I'd probably hide in my room and not come out for months!" Mammon, who had been surprisingly quiet during all of this, had a very serious expression on his face. "Right, and we don't want MC to go through that. For Diavolo's sake, they've left alone to overthink this enough," Mammon stood up and headed towards the door again, Satan hot on his trail. "I'm going up to there to talk with them. Ya'll are welcome to come with, but you ain't stoppin' me." "Actually, Mammon, you're not. We should wait until MC comes to us," Lucifer interrupted. An animalistic snarl tore its way from Satan's throat as what little self-control he had snapped. Wrath incarnate lunged himself at Lucifer, grabbing his older brother by the collar of his cloak. "Are you serious, Lucifer?! You're seriously putting your stupid pride first, now?!? MC needs us!" Lucifer growled and pushed Satan off of him as he stood to size him up. "No. What they need is to not feel pressured to open up when they aren't ready! We can't make them feel like they can't come to us!" Mammon scoffed from where he stood in the back. "Oh, cause that's perfect logic! News flash, oh wise one, They ain't gonna come to us if they're thinkin' they're a burden! But you wouldn't know anything about that would you?!" Lucifer's eyes widen and he took a step back in shock at the statement. "What is that supposed to mean?" Mammon and Satan both opened their mouths to put Lucifer in his place when Beel all of sudden cleared his throat loudly. All three of the angry demons turned to snap at him but froze as they saw you standing in the room behind them. They instantly straightened themselves up gave you their full attention. The air seemed to lay still between you as everyone waited for the other to make the first move. As with almost every situation, it was Mammon who broke the silence. He took a step towards you. "MC, I was just coming to get you actually. There's somethin' we all wanna talk to you about." They could hear your breath catch in your throat as you took a step back. Panic filled your eyes the moment the words left his mouth. "O-Oh. I, um, I was actually just going to grab an apple and then head off to RAD for class. M-Maybe we can talk afterwards?" Satan frowned as you walked past him towards the fruit bowl. "MC, it's the weekend." You stopped mid-step. An uncomfortable tension filled the room as the obvious excuse was exposed. The brothers waited for you to move, to speak, to do something to give them any sort of sign for what you wanted them to do, but you just stood there, still like a statue except for the tremors in your hand. "Come on, Darling," Asmodeus spoke softly. His face clearly showed the hurt and concern that was coursing through him. "Everything's alright, I promise. We just need to talk about a few things." The brothers had thought of a number of ways you could've reacted to them confronting you. Lucifer thought that perhaps you would snap at them and distance yourself further. Mammon, Levi, and Asmo expected a few small tears followed by a cuddle session. Satan imagined a slightly more dramatic telling, like something from one of his novels, that ended him being your hero and massacring all those who dared speak ill about you. Beel thought perhaps you could talk over a bunch of comfort foods that allowed you to remain calm and feel safe. Belphie had hoped that perhaps you hadn't believed what you overheard, and the two of you could laugh at how idiotic even the idea of them not loving you was. But you, breaking down into tears, sobbing the words "I'm sorry" over and over again? None of them had expected, nor were prepared, for that. ***Apparently this is now going to be a three-part series. This part was interesting to write. I fully believe that if the brothers were in a poly relationship with the MC they would definitely bicker and argue about

who knows MC best and who had the better date whenever MC isn't around. Honestly, they probably have a score chart 😅 I hope you guys liked part 2! Keep an eye out for part 3, where MC finally opens up to the boys and we have some hurt/comfort times \uwu/ ***

[yourloverfromthepast]

𝒜 𝒩𝐸𝒲 𝐿𝐼𝐹𝐸

𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝒍𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈...

SUMMARY: You just moved to New York City after you’ve been offered a somehwat peculiar job. Finally, you feel that this is the right occasion to change your life and move on, but soon you will realize that your ghosts of the past never really disappeared as you thought. 

PAIRINGS: The Avengers x F!reader - Bucky Barnes x F!Reader - Matt Murdock x F! Reader 

WORD COUNT: 1000

WARNINGS: just some cursing...for now👀 (yes bestie, I’m writing this mainly for you; don't worry, you'll see some smut in the future *wink wink*)

𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕...

AUTHOR��S NOTE: hi guys! So, to make it short, this is my first time writing something like this, and I literally wrote the story while listening to Lana Del Rey and the Euphoria soundtrack, lmao. I apologize in advance if while reading you’ll find some mistakes, unfortunately English is not my first language, but I’ll still do my best to write this as clear and comprehensible as possible. i know it’s very short, but first I wanted to have a feedback from someone before really putting myself into it. I just hope you’ll like it and...let me know what you think. Enjoy! 

CHAPTER 2 HERE!

𝑫𝑶𝑾𝑵𝑳𝑶𝑨𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑻𝑬! 100%

You didn’t sleep that night. Of course you didn’t. How could you? You were too excited - and to be honest also a bit scared - to meet your new colleagues the next day to even TRY to sleep. After all, you’ve always admired them: The Avengers.

Exactly. The Avengers. The team of superheroes where a Russian spy, a Germanic god, a man with anger issues, Robin Hood, a man with a flying armor, the most patriotic thing you’ve ever seen, and their friends, were protecting the world from any danger. You couldn’t understand how Tony Stark, the Iron Man himself, noticed and picked YOU to become a new member of the group, but obviously you would have never been against all of that. On the contrary, you had hoped for a quite long time to be seen from at least one of the members, but you still were too confused to figure out how he discovered you. 

4.00 AM

You raised your head to look at the bright red time that your alarm clock was projecting onto the ceiling.

‘‘Fffuuuuck’’ you yelled exasperated into the pillow. You perfectly knew how big and dark your eye bags would have been for the rest of the day, but for as much as you tried, you simply couldn’t sleep. ‘‘Ok, screw it. I give up’’. With all the energy you had in your body, you jumped up from the double bed. You put your phone on charge - since you used it all night ‘‘to try to sleep’’ - took a bunch of beauty products such as body lotion, and some face masks, you undressed, and entered the shower. At that moment, you just wanted to take care of yourself, something you hadn’t done in months, after what happened.

‘‘Y/n?’’

‘‘Y/n, is that you?’’

‘‘Y/n!’’

You immediately opened your eyes, finding yourself sitting in the shower, shivering and breathing as if you had been forced to hold your breath for your entire life. You sighed. ‘‘It was a dream...just...a fucking dream’’. The water flowing over your tense body and its temperature relaxed you; it made you feel pampered as if wrapped in a warm hug, and you fell asleep for about fifteen or twenty minutes.

You showered as fast as possible. The silence of the night and the sound of the water echoing in that small room were killing you. That damned feeling reminded you of him... Out of the tub, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You tried to hold your breath to avoid crying, but it was stronger than you expected, and finally, you broke out.

‘‘I’m sorry...’’ you said sobbing and crouching in front of the sink. Hot tears running down your cheeks and falling to the floor.

‘‘I am so sorry...’’ 

After what you thought would have been an eternity spent crying, you washed your face. For some strange reason, you loved the feeling of hot - almost boiling - water on your face. You looked once again at yourself in the mirror and smiled. You realized you were finally ready to move on. You knew you were finally ready to start a new life.

7.00 AM

You were trembling, sitting on the couch waiting. You didn’t know exactly what you were waiting for, but you were there. First, looking at your phone; then at the door; then out the window and your phone again. You almost had a heart attack when you heard the ringtone. You panicked. ‘‘SHIT- oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD!’’ Running towards the table you picked up the phone and answered the call.

‘‘Y-yes?’’

‘‘Good morning kiddo! Already awake?’’

‘‘Uuhm...who- who is this?’’

‘‘Oh c’mon! You’re telling me you never saved my number?’’

‘‘You never gave her your number Tony..’’ continued a feminine voice.

‘‘Hm, you’re right...WELL, it doesn’t matter. Let’s start again. Hi kiddo, I’m the genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man. Do you remember?’’ Fuck. It was him.

‘‘Oh crap- y-yeah! Of course I do! Uuhm, h-hi sir Stark!’’ you said with a shaking voice. 

‘‘Ahahahaha ‘sir Stark’, I kinda like that... Wow, you really are a genius kid. You could be an example for the others. Hey guys! Have you heard it? You should start to call me ‘Sir Stark’ too! After all, you need to show me some respect! I sacrificed myself to save the world from a bunch of intergalactic aliens, y’know!’’

‘‘Oh my- TONY! Just- gimme the phone’’ the same feminine voice of before interrupted him. ‘‘Hi darling, how are you? I’m Natasha, but you can just call me Nat, nice to meet you. Well, since we have no time, I just wanted to inform you: around 8:30 a black car will park right in front of your condominium. Don’t worry, it will just be our agent Phil ready to pick you up and bring you here! When you will arrive we’ll just finish the introductions. See you later then!’’ and she hanged up.

You looked at the clock. You had an hour to calm yourself down and rehearse your speech. Perfect.

‘‘Ok, so..*cough cough* Hi guys! I’m y/n, nice to meet you!’’

...

‘‘Oh my fucking god, NO, what the fuck is this!?! What am I?? A fucking toddler?? Man, this will be more difficult than I expected. Pleeeease dear god, I need your help!’’ you said throwing your head back and shutting your eyes, when suddenly, an idea flashed into your head. You slowly reopened your eyes and ran to your bedroom. Standing in front of the night table, you bent down and opened its third drawer just to take out a pair of reddish, round sunglasses. You looked out the window. It was a sunny hot day. You gave them another look.

‘‘Perfect’’ you said smiling.

You put the glasses on and walked over to the large mirror in the corner of the room.

‘‘These will surely bring me some luck. Thank you babe, I love you’’

[sunarinluvr]

|| haikyuu boys finding you asleep on the couch after an argument ||

includes: kuroo tetsurou, miya osamu, & oikawa tooru

a/n- hello! sorry for posting so late, but this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and i was actually in the mood to finish it so i hope yall enjoy! oh and im not really sure about how i feel about it,,, might take it down later we shall see.

warnings: none ( lmk if there’s anything! )

KUROO -

last night you saw a post kuroo’s “work wife” had made on instagram with her kissing him on the cheek, and it didn’t make you feel the best, so you decided to bring it up to him the next morning. and you did, just as he was getting ready for work you talked to him about it.

you were standing in front of him filled with anger arguing about how it made you uncomfortable, “can you please listen?! i dont feel comfortable with your “work wife” kissing you?” you yelled. “Y/N it was on the cheek its not a big deal!” and to be honest you just wanted to cry. 

finally, he walked past you and opened the door. “i don’t have time for this y/n, stop being so insecure! at least she wouldn’t argue over something so small!” and with that, he slammed the door and you stood there stunned. kuroo knew that he shouldn’t have said that, instant regret and guilt filled his gut.

 but he already said it, he can’t do anything about it now. with a frustrated sigh, he went to work. hoping to fix everything when he gets home. you stood there speechless, as you realized you still had work so slowly you made your way to the bathroom. 

after getting ready and grabbing a quick snack you were out the door with a heavy chest. once you get home, tired and feeling worse than before. you trudged to the couch and plopped down letting out a shaky sigh remembering the argument and the words he said repeating in your head. 

you broke down crying, and before you knew it, the exhaustion from today took over and you were sound asleep on the couch. kuroo got home an hour later, he felt guilty and was already practicing how he’d apologize to you as he walked in.“y/n? kitten?” no answer. 

he called out again, and was met with silence, he made his way over to the living room where he found you sleeping on the couch. gently walking towards you he knelt down, and saw your tear-stained face which made his heart sink. “i fucked up” he said to himself.

giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead he softly apologized and carried you to the bedroom. you ended up waking up when you felt his body weight dent the bed. “tetsu?” you said softly squinting at him. relief rushes through his body at the sound of his nickname. looking at you with guilt in his eyes

“im so sorry kitten, i shouldn’t have said that. i didn’t mean to hurt you” he said gently. at that tears started flowing again and he was quick to hug you and wipe your tears with his other hand. “it’s ok, i shouldn’t have been so insecure anyways” 

he shook his head with a frown “no it’s not your fault ok? i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you so so much and i’m so lucky that you’re mine” you look up at him and gave him a small smile “okay” before cuddling closer to him. giving you a soft kiss on the lips he hugged you tighter as you both fell asleep.

OSAMU -

osamu was just having a horrible day, his head was pounding and the customers he had to deal with today were just plain rude. then he had to do most of the work since one of his employees called in sick, and for some reason, everything just annoyed him.

you on the other hand did not know about his day at all and thought it would be nice of you to make a surprise visit. walking in with a huge smile on your face stopping midway when you realize he wasn’t at the counter. “where’s samu?” you asked sweetly to the employee

“he’s in the back, i think he has a headache,” she says giving you a small smile. you can tell something was off by the way she spoke but decided to just brush it off and make your way to the back. “hi samu! surprise!” you exclaimed cheerfully as you make your way towards him

he just kind of looks at you, which you thought was weird, but you decided to hug him anyways. when he doesn’t hug you back and groan, you pull away and look at him “baby i heard you had a headache. i didn’t bring any medicine, but we could eat first and i-” 

you couldn’t even finish your sentence since osamu just stood up. he was infuriated and had no clue why, usually loved listening to you but today he was just annoyed. “look y/n a don’t mean ta be rude, but a don't have the energy for this right now. please just go home.” he said coldly staring right at you.

“excuse me? i came here to surprise you and this is what i get??” you said in shock, voice a little louder this time. rolling his eyes “Oh wow am so surprised! now will ya please go home? a don’t wanna argue right now!” he yelled. with tears forming in your eyes you quickly wiped them and left. osamu knew he shouldn’t have said all that, but he was too mad to run after you in front of all the customers. 

you rushed home and sluggishly made your way to your room to change into something comfier, making your way to the couch, curling up into a ball allowing your tears to fall, and somehow falling asleep, after getting tired of crying. he gets home a few hours later, guilt building up in his stomach as he mentally slaps himself for the things he said. 

walking into the living room he opened the lights and you were the first thing he noticed. seeing you curled up into a ball on the couch made his heart drop to his stomach. you on the other hand woke up because of the sudden change of lighting. 

gradually adjusting your sight you see him and switch your gaze onto the floor when you saw him look at you too. seeing your puffy eyes he walks towards you slowly and sits beside you giving you enough space. “am sorry, a shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on ya.”

you look at him with watery eyes and his heart sinks “yea i was just trying to be nice, sorry i didn’t warn you before coming” he opened his arms and you instinctively scooted closer to him, he sighs “no a love it when you surprise me a was jus having a bad day a love ya so much ok?” finally hugging him “okay i love you too” giving you a quick kiss he offered to make you food and of course you said yes.

OIKAWA -

you love oikawa, and you’re very supportive and understanding especially when it comes to his career. but he has an awful habit of overworking himself and as much as you love him you can't bear the fact that you couldn’t even see him anymore.

he goes home late at night -as in you’re already sound asleep late- and when you do stay up to see him, he’s too tired to even keep a conversation. then the next morning he’s gone before you could even wake up. you’ve spoken to him about this many times, but alas nothing changed.

you woke up to an empty bed as usual, but today was different though, you’ve planned a dinner for about 2 weeks now. you were very excited because it’s been so long since you both spent some quality time together and he promised to come home early. 

getting up you send him a little text reminding him of your dinner tonight, with a smile you head on over to the bathroom to get ready for work. once work was over you made a quick visit to the grocery store to buy the ingredients you’ll need to make tonight’s dinner. 

quietly humming to yourself while going through each aisle, and double-checking your list to make sure you’re not missing anything while checking your phone here and there. oikawa still hasn’t replied “he must be busy,” you say to yourself as you send him another text about the dinner just in case. after about 30 minutes you get home rushing since it was already late, and immediately getting started on dinner. 

once you're done you sat down and waited, and waited, and waited. it's been 4 hours. dinners cold and still no sign of your boyfriend. you decided to call him pissed off that he couldn’t even show up to one dinner, “hello? y/n i can't talk right now i still need to practice” 

he said as soon as he picked up. “tooru? did you get my texts? what about dinner, we’ve made plans for this 2 weeks prior! i even-” you were cut off “look just eat without me ok? we can eat again somet-” now it was your turn to cut him off. 

“oikawa tooru, you leave the house while i’m asleep and come back when i'm asleep. i just wanted to spend time with you..whatever good luck at practice,” you replied as you hang up. his heart sank when he heard the crack in your voice rushing to his car on his way home to you because he knows he fucked up. 

buying your favorite flowers for you on the way home cursing himself and the world for making it traffic at that exact moment. when he got home the first thing he saw was the food and you fast asleep on the couch. he felt a pang of guilt about being late. 

“y/n chan?” he said while gently waking you up. you stare at him with red puffy eyes and he hugged you giving you the flowers “im sorry baby, i should’ve prioritized you and our dinner. i promise ill do better” you saw how genuine he was being so you accepted the flowers and hugged him tighter as he offered to reheat the food you made.

reblogs are highly appreciated!

[ethanesimp]

AMAMI PER SEMPRE // E.T.

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x Fem! Reader

Summary: Ethan isn’t the brightest—or the best—when it comes to surprises, so his attempt at proposing to you causes a few misunderstandings...

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Swearing, a tiny tiny mention of death, some angst, other than that it’s pure fluff and me projecting my obsession with old books onto the reader.

Request: Ethan planning to propose and acting super nervous and strange (a bit angsty bc the reader doesn’t know what’s happening) and ending in pure fluff.

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

A/N: After more than a year of stepping foot into a bookstore for *cough* obvious reasons, I got to go to one yesterday. While looking at some second-hand books I had an idea that I decided to combine with @kawaiiwxnnabe​’s lovely request to bring you this. I hope you enjoy! <3 

Ethan had been mindlessly listening to Damiano sing Amandoti when the thought of marrying you first seriously crossed his mind. It had been a thing he’d thought of countless times ever since he started dating you, but it had never remained with as much intensity as it had that time. 

Damiano, who had noticed his friend’s face illuminate all of a sudden, had a talk with him that once and for all convinced Ethan that it was the right time and you were the right person. He didn’t sleep at all that night because he couldn’t stop thinking about what would be the perfect way to propose to you. It was no secret to him—or anyone who knew you—that you were a hopeless romantic. 

There was nothing that made you happier than simple and small details that came from the heart. That was the reason why you had developed an affinity towards old books. Not only did they have a particular and special scent that reminded you of vanilla and chocolate, but some had the luck—as you liked to call it—of being embellished by notes on margins or dedications on covers. Whether they were about love, sorrow, or maybe even hate, they still showed a small glimpse into the life of the person who had once owned it. Those notes told a story that would prevail even long after they were gone from the earth. 

Ever since he had noticed that small obsession of yours, Ethan had tried to help you expand your treasured collection by bringing you back books he found at antique stores from every country the band played in. 

During a visit to Spain after he initially had his stirring thought, Ethan took the chance to visit one of the second-hand shops he’d found during a night stroll with Victoria, who had disappeared into a bakery. His main goal was to find something different from the usual books he brought back for you. 

After he walked into the store and vaguely told the old lady at the counter about his idea in the best Spanish he could muster, she smiled warmly at him and guided him to the very back of the tiny shop where a beautiful and worn out bookshelf sat in all its glory, filled with as many books as it could hold. 

He immediately started searching around for the perfect book, but it proved to be harder than he initially thought it’d be. After searching around for more than an hour, all he had found was a collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s tales and poems with a heartbreaking note to someone’s dead lover. While it had almost brought him to tears and was a special thing he’d buy to give to you later, it wasn’t exactly the best thing to help him carry out his plan.   

Victoria walked into the shop when he was about to give up and, fully aware of his plan, started looking around without saying a word to him. They both searched around the messy piles of books for something. It didn’t take long for her to stumble across three books held together by a lilac satin ribbon. 

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. All three contained a note on the very first page right under the title, but the last one stood out above the other two because, according to his basic knowledge of Spanish, it ended with the very question he wanted to ask ¿Quieres casarte conmigo? Or ‘Will you marry me?’. He bought all three of them after a huge smile and a thumbs up from Victoria.  

What he hadn’t expected was for them to remain hidden in a drawer he knew you never opened underneath piles of clothes. Ever since he came back from their small trip to Spain, Ethan had tried to ask the question about six times, but always ended up choking on his words and saying something else. In fact, the first time he ever tried, Ethan chickened out at the last second and ended up giving you the Edgar Allan Poe anthology instead.

You were still none the wiser to his plan even after he’d asked about your opinion on marriage a few times. Anyone would’ve probably caught up with what was going on already, but you were always so busy with things happening around you that you didn’t connect his awkward and nervous attitude with his questions.

You didn’t start giving his actions a second thought until one night… You had been cooped up in your office all day working on a new project you were supposed to present to your boss by the end of the week when you suddenly felt the urge to get up and walk around the house.

Ethan was casually sitting on the couch as he whispered unintelligible words into his phone. You supposed he was on a call with a friend or maybe his manager and was trying to be quiet to avoid disturbing you, but then he hung up the call with a panicked expression the moment he noticed you. After that, you started thinking back on the way he had been behaving ever since he returned and it all raised the suspicion that there was something strange going on. 

It didn’t get any better when he kept on acting weird. Simple things that he had allowed you to do, like using his phone to take pictures because it had a better camera than yours, now seemed to make him almost mad. He’d even snapped at you once when you tried to grab it to take a picture with him. Even if Ethan had apologized right away, it still didn’t calm you down, especially because he had gone as far as to change the password on it.

It almost felt like he was walking on eggshells around you and you didn’t like it one bit. Your relationship had always been about honesty and worked because of constant communication. Everything was just so strange that your mind couldn’t help but think of the worst.

You were an imaginative person who never had any difficulties when it came to envisioning things clearly. Unfortunately, that also applied to every negative thought that crossed your mind, so it wasn’t hard for you to start coming up with the worst explanations as to why he was acting so suspicious. It didn’t help much that he had been busier than normal because the band was wrapping up on their latest album, so you hadn’t had the opportunity to sit down and voice all your concerns, to ask if something was going on and if there was a way to fix it. 

The morning of your anniversary, you’d finally had enough. You had woken up, expecting to feel Ethan’s arm tightly wrapped around your waist and to receive a shower of kisses the moment he noticed you were awake, but no. There was no Ethan and the side of his bed was already neatly made.

Your disappointment only grew when he wasn’t in the kitchen or his small studio where he had his drums. You doubted he was in the house at all. 

It was a thing that wouldn’t have affected you much had he done it any other time, but with everything that had been going on as of late, you could only fear the worst. So, without being able to control yourself, you started making the worst conclusions. You’d always been fully aware that he loved you, but all the signs undoubtedly pointed at him meeting someone new… And maybe he was going to leave you for them as well… during your anniversary.

That was all you needed to break into tears. You climbed back into bed and cried for what seemed to be hours. Even since you got together, you had thought of him as your person, your forever. The thought of him leaving you broke your heart into tiny pieces.

Ethan arrived home only a few minutes after you’d buried yourself underneath all the blankets and cried out all your worries. When he was about to open the door to your bedroom, he stopped. Were you crying? 

He stood there in complete silence for a few seconds until he was more than sure that you were, in fact, crying. Ethan rushed inside and he felt his heart break at the sight of you looking so heartbroken, and it didn’t get any better when he heard a whimper come out of your mouth at the sight of him. You cuddled deeper into the bedsheets and turned away from him.

Ethan sat on your side of the bed and, as delicately as possible, he cupped your face into his warm hands and wiped your tears with his thumbs, “Amore,” He said in a quiet voice, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You tried to turn away from him, but his grip on your face stopped you from doing so. You placed one of your hands on top of his and gave it a firm squeeze. No part of you was ready to have that conversation with him because that was going to be it and you were going to have to watch him leave…

So, with a lot of courage, you spoke the first words that came to mind, “You know, i-it’s okay if you’ve found someone else,” You caressed his cheek softly as more tears started spilling down your face, “You can tell me if you have.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your words and the only thing he could do was shake his head no, “What? Found someone else? What would make you say such a thing dolcezza?”

Then, before you could even answer, realization hit him like a ton of bricks and he felt like the stupidest living being on the face of the Earth. He pinched his nose and sighed, annoyed at himself.

“Fuck… I’m so fucking stupid. Please don’t ever think of something like that. I was just… I-I,” Clueless as to what to say, Ethan pressed his lips against yours to kiss you slowly, hoping it spoke more than his words ever could. He could still taste a trace of the salty tears that had fallen on your lips and he couldn’t help but shed a few of his own at the thought that he’d been the one to make you cry.

After pulling away, Ethan pressed his forehead to yours and brushed his nose against yours while his arms held you as close as possible, “Will you close your eyes for just a second, amore mio? I promise everything will make so much sense soon.”

You nodded and kept your eyes closed as you felt him get up from the bed. You heard him open and close a few drawers, and look around for something for a while before he sat back on the bed. Ethan grabbed your hands in his and slowly slipped the three small books into your grasp.

You opened his eyes after a small sound of approval from him and smiled when you saw the three old books held together by a ribbon and the pretty pink rose that had been carefully been slipped into the first book and the ribbon.

You gently removed the flower and placed it on your side. Then you undid the simple knot and picked up the first book, “Wuthering Heights?” You questioned.

He nodded, “Yeah… At least I think that’s it. I hope I didn’t bring back some sketchy book or some shit,” Ethan scratched his neck and you giggled as you opened it on the first page. Your fingers brushed over the letters neatly written down in fountain pen.  

After clearing your throat, you started reading the first dedication out loud. Since your Spanish wasn’t exactly the best either, you had to pause every once in a while to translate all the words, “May 17, 1850… My dearest Helena, I hope this book reaches you in great condition, being apart from you is one of the hardest challenges I have ever had to face, one of the most painful as well. I hope you can find me in between these pages as you read and remember how much I love you, remember how much I long to be back in your arms and kiss your lips. Sincerely, Alejandro.”

You closed it and placed it back on the bed before opening the second book and doing the same thing with the third, “January 24, 1855. Carolina, nothing I’ve ever experienced has gotten close to being as terrible as not having you in my arms. Apologies are overdue… long overdue. Words have never been my strongest suit, yet I still hope I can coherently express just how much I love you, all of you. I’m afraid I’m already too late since you will soon be betrothed to someone else and there will be nothing I can do by then.

 “Still, I hope with everything in my being that this arrives sooner so you’re aware of how sorry I am. I hope you remember that I would do anything you asked without a single complaint just to watch that lovely smile I adore so much appear on your face. If you ever come back to me, I promise with every fiber of my being, and I’ll be dammed if I don’t keep my promise, that I will leave everything behind and escape with you. Anywhere, any time. So with that, I ask a question that will hopefully have a yes as an answer. Will you marry me? With love, Javier.”

Before you could close it, Ethan stopped you and timidly asked for you to open the book on the very last page. You did it and looked back at him with confusion at the sight of his writing on the page, “Read this one out loud for me. Will you Y/N?” You nodded and mumbled a small ‘of course’ before clearing your throat to get rid of the knot that had formed. 

“October 21, 2025… Y/N, my one true love, I’ve always hoped to make a gesture that will remind you of your treasured books. I’ve never been one great with words spoken out loud, so I sought inspiration from those before me who were just as in love with someone as I am with you. Ever since I met you I dreamt of one day settling down with you, of having our small home in the countryside as you’ve always dreamed of. Maybe even doing some of those cloying gestures people seem to do in fiction and dedicate to you the most beautiful love poems I lay eyes on. 

“I’ve wondered for a while how I could ever take the step that would bring me closer to that goal, yet every time I try, words seem to get stuck in my throat with no way out and I end up in square one all over again. It is with this note that I hope to finally take a step in the right direction because I know you’re it for me. You’re my person, my forever, and there’s nothing I would love more than to share my life with you. Sei la mia migliore amica e il mio unico vero amore. Ti chiedo di accettare il mio amore, il mio nome e tutto quello che sono.” (You are my best friend and my one true love. I ask you to accept my love, my name, and everything I am.)

When your eyes spotted the four words that followed, you slowly lowered the book, “Will you marry me?” You both said at the same time, although yours sounded more like an unintelligible mumble. Only then did you notice him down on one knee right in front of you. He held a velvet box with one of the most beautiful rings sitting inside of it 

A hand went to cover your mouth as tears started falling down your face. This time, happy and free of worry. You could only nod repeatedly, overcome with pure joy as your heart swelled with love.

He slowly slid the ring into your finger and grabbed your face to kiss you once again, “I’m so sorry I made you think something else was going on. I just kept backtracking every time I tried to tell you. Not because I was regretting the decision but because I didn’t want to lose you.”

You shook your head as a silent way of saying it was alright and brushed his hair back with your fingers, “The important thing is that you’ve done it and you’re not going to lose me, no matter how hard you try. I’ll always be right here because I love you and I’ll always be yours.”

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Little Brother Knows Everything

I lied. Here's a bonus chapter.

Warnings: Mention of Death ; Unrequited[?] Love ; Mention of bombs ; Jealousy

Words: 3.1k

Tommy may have been an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. He noticed the little things more often than he didn’t. But there were four things he knew about you better than anyone else.

Tommy knew that you liked tea.

Siblings, and people in general, seem to have this habitual kind of indicator of their mood. Some people bounced their leg when they were nervous, others liked to twiddle their thumbs or pop joints; It’s different for everyone.

But he could always tell how [y/n] felt by the tea they were drinking.

When they were nervous, they made tea brewed from lavender buds collected from a flower field they often visited with Technoblade or Phil. They brought Tommy once. He had run around the whole area with infinite energy before the blond climbed the tree. He had climbed higher and higher until he could feel the warmth of the setting sun shine on his face. The branch broke, but when he plummeted, he wasn’t scared. They were at the bottom, waiting to catch him. They were always waiting to inevitably catch him no matter if it was from his own stupid decisions or from someone else’s. They got nervous a lot, but when he was by their side, he could never be.

When [y/n] was stressed, they made tea out of the peppermint leaves in their garden. The scent filled their house while it brewed and the act of harvesting the herb was “soothing”. Tommy wasn’t sure how weeding was supposed to be relaxing, but he happily did it when their newest sibling figure asked him to. He remembered pulling out a whole mint plant the first time he had worked beside them, unknowing that that was the plant he was supposed to be protecting. They had laughed, gently scolding him, before setting it aside. Even if they were stressed out, they never took it out on him.

When he was sad or upset, they made chamomile tea with honey. Chamomile is a calming flower, he remembered them saying once. And the honey helped you remember that golden days were ahead. They made it for him every morning after he would wake up in the bed he seemed to sleep in more than his own. Sometimes the honey came from Technoblade, sometimes they had retrieved it themselves from wild hives, but they always seemed to get the best stuff. Even when he cried or started to -what was the word they had used? Disassociate? That sounded correct-, he could expect the mug to be pushed into his hands, a sugary but not cloying aroma wafting off it. He always felt much better when he left. He could never remember seeing them drink the tea, despite having such an abundance of it. Did they even get sad? He had never witnessed it.

When they were happy, they made black tea of various kinds and drank sweet iced tea that reminded him of what diabetes would taste like if it were liquid. They drank this with him almost daily. It was always a new blend they wanted to try and perfect or one they wanted him to taste. He loved smelling this tea the most. When its fragrance filled the air, somehow, everything felt right in the world. He couldn’t recall a single time when he didn’t see them on the porch, drinking the amber liquid out of a glass when they knew he’d be coming over for dinner.

It was the days when you didn’t drink tea at all, he was afraid.

Tommy knew that no matter what someone did to them, [y/n] wasn’t afraid to make enemies or insert themselves between their friends and any sort of danger to protect them.

Dream was surprised to see [y/n] at the meeting between the Greater Dream SMP and L’Manburg. It was only supposed to be him and George convening with Tubbo and Tommy. They held no real power in the country. They didn’t belong in this meeting, just like they didn’t belong in this timeline.

He watched the way they, during George and Tubbo’s discussion, rested a hand on Tommy’s arm when his hands clenched hard enough to turn his knuckles white. He saw how they would murmur quietly to him and the child would relax ever so slightly. He noticed the nods they gave the blond when he looked to the adult for confirmation after he made a questionable statement. He observed your true role here.

“Nice to see you replace Wilbur so quickly, Tommy. That’s good. He was a horrible role model for you.” His lips curled behind his mask at the shocked expression on everyone else’s face aside from the vice president before him. His eyes were sharp, angry. “Maybe without his influence, you’ll actually be a competent leader for something.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Considering L’Manburg was supposed to be totally destroyed and returned back to the Greater Dream SMP, I’m glad you found someone a bit less self-destructive to help keep you under control. We all know Wilbur did a horrible job at it.” Watching the child soldier stand quickly gave him a certain satisfaction.

“Fuck you, bitch! I don’t need to be told what to do.” Dream watched [y/n] give Tommy a warning look and the way he ignored it.

“And yet you followed someone who lost his own presidential race and blew up his own country before seeking out validation from someone else.”

“I don’t-”

“Tommy.” He watched the blond flinch at the edge to your voice and look down at you.

“He’s saying I-”

“I’m aware. He’s just trying to rile you up. It’s what he does. Ignore him.” The glare they sent him made a sharp jolt go down his spine, but he couldn’t help the chuckle that spilled from his covered mouth.

“Listen to your sibling, Tomathy. At least this one is sane. And if they kill themself, they’ll come back.” Tommy opened his mouth once more to say something before it snapped closed and he released a breath through his nose.

“I don’t need this.” The slam of the door echoed through the now quiet room.

Dream’s attention was immediately back on [y/n]. He watched them square their shoulders and lower their head to look him dead-on. Their glare met him with a hidden fury threatening to break forth and raise the hell that seemed to be just as deeply rooted in them as it was the company they kept. Their lips were pursed in a way that made his own grin grow larger. "Wilbur may not have been the best man. He may have hurt me and put the rest of L’Manburg in this situation. But that is our business alone, and you have no right to say anything bad about him or about Tommy, for that matter."

There was a pregnant pause and he heard George start laughing awkwardly to dispel the tension before being hushed hurriedly by Tubbo.

“And what is it you’ll do to me if I do?” Dream kept his voice level.

“You know why I’m here and who’s behind me. You can use your imagination..” They stood, chair scraping against the floor loudly. “I’m going to check on Tommy.” “But we’re not done!” They stopped at the door, hand resting on the handle.

“I’m sure you can handle the rest by yourself, Tubbo. You know what to do.” They looked at him over their shoulder, before glancing over George and then settling on the man in green. “Don’t you ever speak his name ever again. Or we just might have to build that prison you mentioned. Am I understood?” Sullen nods came from the monarch and the president as they stormed out.

“Well, that was something.”

Tommy had been sitting in the hallway, curled in on himself the same way he had been after the Pit incident.

“Toms?”

“Why is he even here?”

You sat next to him, back resting against the wall.

“Because he cares about George. Kinda like why I was in there for you.” You felt the taller lean against you and relax when you wrapped your arm around him. “I’ll always be here for you, Kiddo.”

You felt him nod and you pressed a kiss to his hair.

“You know I’m not trying to replace Wilbur, right?”

“Of course not. We were like brothers.” His lips quirked a little when he heard your laugh.

“If he were here, I’m sure he’d tell you not to say that or he’d cry.”

“Good. Fucking bitch.”

He didn’t know what he’d do if you never came back.

Tommy knew that the only other person who loved you as much as he did was Technoblade.

Techno had never felt jealous of Tommy before. Or really anyone. He was pretty secure in his position as your best friend, and the vast amounts of platonic affection you showered him with kept him content. Even during the Pogtopia rebellion, watching the looks and touches Wilbur gave you or seeing the child sneak into your bed for another night in a row didn’t make him jealous. So why did he suddenly have the very real impulse to shove the blond off the side off a cliff just to retake some of your attention?

The hybrid watched you talk with your hands as you recounted the night before and your surprise at finding Tommy already there when you came home from Phil’s. He was happy he had been right. You and Philza were similar in many ways and got along well. You would constantly joke with Techno that you were trying to get yourself adopted by the older blond and he would just respond with an amused “don’t tempt him, he might.”. You would always laugh in response.

That was always the best sound.

He listened to your words as he topped off the teacup in front of you with more of the red-tinted liquid. The warm scent of earl grey and roses wafted off of the cup tinged with the subtle tang of the orange peel he had added on a whim. You were right in your suggestion. Citrus always makes deeper teas better.

“If it’s really that bad, the offer to move in still stands. I have more than enough room and you can escape that raccoon.” He snickered at the pout that rested on your lips.

“I never said that I didn’t like it! And don’t call Tommy a raccoon.” He sipped his own tea.

“It’s true. Gets into trash, beady little eyes, a nuisance. He even breaks into your house.”

“He has a key, Tech. It’s different.” You had rolled your eyes at him, but the smile on your face spoke of your fondness for them both. He felt the small well of jealousy in his chest flare. Did Tommy know how privileged he was? He hoped the child knew.

“I’m just sayin’. Whenever you want to leave that place, my door will always be open for you.” He watched your smile soften and the firm squeeze when you reached across the table for his forearm.

“I appreciate it, but Tommy needs me still. Maybe one day, okay?” He grunted at you and you giggled. “Who knows, maybe Phil will come with! He could build his own little cabin and everything.”

“I’ve already extended the offer to him as well. He said he’ll think about it.” You shook your head.

“He’s probably trying to figure out how close to the meadow he’d be in comparison.”

“Man loves the flowers, what can he say?”

“Sure, it’s definitely the flowers.” You sipped your tea with a knowing grin.

“What else would it be?” He watched the glint in your eyes, seeing exactly what Tommy had always said about you. They had seemed a lot deeper lately, more knowledgeable. The child had always claimed that you spoke like you knew more than you let on and he saw it in your smile sometimes, but the look you were giving him right at that moment confirmed it.

“Maybe it’s all the memories.”

He couldn't imagine you not returning the feelings they both held for you, despite the vast difference.

Tommy knew that you wouldn’t hide anything from him unless it was absolutely imperative.

He found you sitting in the living room, curled into an old recliner that you would never tell him where it came from. You felt Tommy haphazardly throw his arms around your shoulders from behind, releasing a small sigh of contentment as he pressed his face further into your neck.

"Hey, Kiddo, what’re you up to?" His grip on you slackened, and you could almost feel his face draw up to a small pout. He absolutely hated that nickname but couldn’t deny the small warmth that flared in his stomach whenever you called him it.

"[Y/n], how many times have I asked you to stop calling me that?" He removed himself from you when you shrugged your shoulders.

"Sorry, Toms, the nickname stays. You're too much of a brat for it to leave." He groaned, eyebrows drawing together. You knew he wasn’t entirely mad at the name. He wouldn’t have whined the way he did if he truly wanted you to stop. You and Tommy seemed to share a wavelength. It wasn’t the same one you shared with Techno, but it was just as perfect. You wished you could tell him why it was.

The realization set a rock that started in your throat and slowly started to sink to your stomach. It spread through you, causing a wet hot sensation to form behind your eyes. You’d never be able to tell your little brother your deepest secret. What if he hated you? What if he told everyone else and they cast you out? What if he felt he couldn’t trust you anymore?

Carefully pulling yourself out of your own thoughts, you looked up at the child. “I’m sorry, what was it you wanted?”

"Can I talk to you?" Your eyes flicked to the book you were reading before back to him. You knew what he wanted. A bookmark was wedged between pages and the room was silent before you stood. "Sure, kiddo. Is it going to be a long chat?" You set off to the kitchen, soon pouring some water into an old kettle that Phil had given you the day that you had awoken. You had been “gone” for over a full day. Aside from Phil, no one else knew what had happened and where you went.

An opaque jar was pulled from the cupboard, carefully opened, and he watched as purple buds, green leaves, and yellow-white flowers were deposited gently onto the mesh cloth that you would tie into a sachet. He had never seen them combine those teas. He didn’t even realize you had such a large jar of it stored.

“What happened at Phil’s?” You hesitated before steadying your hand and pouring the steaming water into a teapot before setting the sachet in. It floated for a moment before you used the string to dunk the bag a few times to soak it before it sank midway.

You only pulled one mug down.

You gestured for him to sit at the table and he took it. You could see the way his anxiety rose even higher when you didn’t sit across from him.

“What day? I’ve been at Phil’s a lot lately.”

“Oh fuck off. You know what day I’m talking about.” You shrugged, trying to keep your expression even.

“I really don’t, Tommy. You’re going to have to narrow it down for me.” Your fight or flight instincts were dialed to high when he gave you a knowing look.

“You don’t have to lie to me, [y/n]. I’m not a child.”

“Yes, you are, and I’m not lying.” You flinched when he slammed his hands on the table, chair screeching as it was slid back with too much force before it fell backwards.

“Then why have you changed?” You froze. “You used to love spending time with me before-”

You wanted to reach out, to comfort him, when you saw his lips quiver, but he turned his head away from you. He couldn’t look you in the eye.

“Before you were gone for almost two days and came back wrong. You don’t talk like how you used to either. It’s like you know things, but like, more than you used to. And come to find out from Ranboob, you had gone to Philza’s house. What did he tell you?”

You just shook your head, wanting to tell him you remembered him. You remembered every timeline he was in. Every moment he had fought for what he believed in and won. Every time he had died. Every timeline he could have died.

“Did I do something? Is it because of Ghostbur? Do you-” He looked back up at you, looking exactly like the sixteen year old he was supposed to be. “Do you hate me?”

“Of course not, Tommy. Why in the world would you ever think that?”

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s going on? Siblings don’t keep secrets.”

“They do when they’re trying to protect the ones they love, Tommy.” You watched his face grow red in frustration.

“You’re not always gonna be there for me, [y/n]!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Why won’t you just tell me?” His voice broke, and so did your heart.

“Because you’re still just a kid, Tommy. And I think sometimes you forget that. And everyone else too. And I can’t tell anyone what happened.”

“But why? I stopped being a child when we won our first war. I should be able to hear about this!”

“Because the things I saw, the things I heard, no one else should have to bear this weight.” You swallowed back your tears. This was no time to cry. “You can be mad at me all you want, Tommy. But I’m still the same [y/n] who tucks you into bed and links pinkies with you on the Prime Path and who will always be there for you.”

The hurt look he gave you would haunt you for the rest of your lifetimes.

“Then why won’t you let me be there for you?” You could only shake your head.

“Because that’s not how it works, Kiddo.” Tommy’s eyes hardened and he sucked in a quivering breath.

“Fine.” He started walking back towards the door.

“Toms, where are you going?” He didn’t answer you.

His tea was bitter and cold by now, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but feel the same.

Tommy knew all those things about you. So why did it feel like maybe he didn’t know you at all?

[bloody-bee-tea]

Raise

Ever since he and Nie Mingjue broke up, Jiang Cheng has only been going through the motions. He’s still fulfilling his duties as a Sect Leader—his pride in his Sect won’t allow him to do anything else—but that’s about it.

There’s nothing in life to take enjoyment from anymore and Jiang Cheng feels a lot like he did right after the war, except with less existential dread. But he’s lost and unmoored and he doesn’t know what to do.

He hates it a little bit that Nie Mingjue still has this kind of power over him, but mostly he’s just fucking devastated.

Now he understands his sister and her tears and her sad smiles a bit better.

Getting your heart broken really is the worse and Jiang Cheng guesses it doesn’t help that at least he knows that Nie Mingjue felt the same for him.

Jin Zixuan was a complete asshole to his sister, which must have made it a little bit easier Jiang Cheng hopes, because he wishes this for no one.

When he realizes that he lost himself yet again in his own head, he scoffs. It’s been happening a lot lately, and usually all of his thoughts turn to Nie Mingjue but he can’t afford to slack off.

No matter what his second in command keeps telling him on a daily basis.

If Jiang Cheng would take a day for himself, he wouldn’t do anything but wallow in his misery anyway, and he prefers working over doing that.

So he goes on, and on, one letter after the other, until he made a considerable dent into the stack that built itself up during his last weeks with Nie Mingjue.

Jiang Cheng grinds his teeth together when he realizes that he’s yet again thinking about the other man and he slams his hand on the table in his rage.

He really wonders just how long this will go on; how long he will be haunted by the thought of Nie Mingjue. Right now, he hears Nie Mingjue’s laugh echo in the hallways they frequently walked together, he feels Nie Mingjue’s phantom touch on his shoulder whenever he sits hunched over some work for too long, and he still feels all the love Nie Mingjue had for him.

But duty comes first, Jiang Cheng understands that. He doesn’t have to like it, but he understands.

“You can’t just—no, wait,” Jiang Cheng suddenly hears from outside and he lifts his head a second before someone barges into his study.

“You fucking asshole,” is what Nie Huaisang greets him with and Jiang Cheng knew that the break-up would throw a little bit of a wrench into their friendship, but he didn’t expect this.

“Huaisang,” he still greets his old friend, but he figures he shouldn’t have when Nie Huaisang glares at him, clearly too agitated to even get his fan out.

“Do not even dare,” Nie Huaisang hisses. “You absolute fucking asshole. You said you would love him!”

“I do,” Jiang Cheng says with a sigh, getting up to close the door behind Nie Huaisang, hoping that not all of Lotus Pier heard him yet.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Nie Huaisang sarcastically gives back. “It’s so very evident in the way you broke up with him.”

“Don’t be unfair,” Jiang Cheng whispers, but he can’t meet Nie Huaisang’s eyes.

It still hurts too much.

“Unfair. Unfair! The only one being unfair here is you!”

“Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng snaps, now slowly getting angry himself.

He can understand the protective instinct of a sibling, but this is really going to far. It’s not Jiang Cheng’s fault, and he didn’t actually want to break up with Nie Mingjue, but since it was what Nie Mingjue had wanted, he had done it.

And it seemed unfair to be attacked over this now.

“No. I’m going to ruin you,” Nie Huaisang lowly says and while usually Jiang Cheng wouldn’t give much thought to a threat like this, he knows that if Nie Huaisang really wants to, he will.

Going by the glare Jiang Cheng gets, Nie Huaisang really wants to.

“Why? It’s not my fault,” Jiang Cheng snaps at him and Nie Huaisang laughs right in his face.

“Right, not your fault. Of course not. How could it be? You’re just the guy who broke up with my brother.”

“Because he wanted to!” Jiang Cheng shouts at him, his heart still hurting so damn much and that at least is enough to shut Nie Huaisang up for a few seconds.

“He wanted to,” Nie Huaisang lowly repeats. “That’s what you’re going with? Really?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jiang Cheng asks, suddenly drained of all energy and he goes to sit back down at the table.

He doesn’t want to fight with Nie Huaisang and he doesn’t want to do it while standing up, and all he really wants to do is go crawl into bed with Nie Mingjue and curl up against his chest, but it’s not like he’ll ever be able to do that again.

“My brother finally opens up to you about the qi deviations and your first instinct is to run away and break up with him? And now you’re trying to twist it like it was actually his idea? You’re really something else, Jiang-zongzhu. I thought better of you.”

“That’s not what happened, Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng says with a small frown, because Jiang Cheng remembers that conversation a lot differently, and he was actually present.

“Then enlighten me,” Nie Huaisang hisses. “What did happen?”

Jiang Cheng desperately doesn’t want to speak about it—the pain still too near and fresh—but Nie Huaisang is levelling him with a look that promises pain and absolute ruin if Jiang Cheng doesn’t start speaking like five seconds ago and so he sighs.

“He told me about the qi deviations,” Jiang Cheng says, because so far they are on the same page. “That he’ll die soon and young and violently.”

“And you left him for it,” Nie Huaisang says with a nod, as if there could be no doubt about it.

“I love him. Do you really think that low of me?” Jiang Cheng asks, a new kind of hurt finding its place in his chest.

Jiang Cheng thought he was long over being hurt by people being disappointed in him, but it seems like he was wrong.

“Seeing as he is back home, absolutely devastated and you’re going on like nothing happened, I think the only possible answer can be yes,” Nie Huaisang sneers at him and Jiang Cheng sees red.

“I have to do this,” Jiang Cheng yells and shoots up. “I have to because if I don’t keep busy, if I don’t distract myself, I’ll be a fucking shell. I want to do nothing more than to crawl into bed and cry for a good week but what good is that going to do me? It’s not going to get me Mingjue back and my Sect actually still needs me. I was miserable all through the war and for a good while after and I don’t want to feel like that again. And besides; he made his choice. What use is there for me to cry after him.”

“He made his choice? The audacity you have! And don’t raise your voice at me like that,” Nie Huaisang gives back, clearly unfazed by Jiang Cheng’s explosion and it cuts all of Jiang Cheng’s strings.

It doesn’t matter what he tells Nie Huaisang, he realizes. He has his mind already made up.

“He told me about the qi deviations and that his Sect must come first,” Jiang Cheng still mutters. “He needs an heir.”

Jiang Cheng barely gets the words out, and he hates himself a little for how his eyes well up almost immediately. It’s been almost a week by now and the words still hurt as much as they did when they left Nie Mingjue’s mouth.

In front of him, Nie Huaisang freezes.

“What?”

“He said he needs to prepare, that he needs someone to take over eventually. It’s not that hard to understand his meaning,” Jiang Cheng whispers.

Nie Mingjue needs an heir. And for that he needs a wife. It’s as easy as that.

“Did he say it like that?” Nie Huaisang asks and Jiang Cheng nods miserably.

“That fucking idiot,” Nie Huaisang mutters and finally sits down himself, slamming his fan on the table. “Listen here, Wanyin,” he says and Jiang Cheng wonders when he switched back to being Wanyin again.

“I’m listening,” Jiang Cheng says because clearly Nie Huaisang is waiting for a response from him.

Though he’s not quite sure he can take any more accusations today.

“My brother is an idiot,” Nie Huaisang solemnly says and Jiang Cheng fights the immediate urge to defend Nie Mingjue.

He’s not sure he still has that right.

“Why?” he asks instead, because it seems like the safer option.

“I am his heir,” Nie Huaisang tells him and Jiang Cheng goes very still. “When father died and da-ge decided to not take a wife, they wrote that down somewhere. I’m to inherit the Sect should anything happen to my brother.”

“He—it didn’t sound like that when we talked,” Jiang Cheng carefully says.

It makes no sense. Nie Mingjue had looked sad as he had said that he needs to prepare. Why would he look sad if he already has an heir.

“There was sadness on his face when he said it,” Jiang Cheng weakly goes on, because he still remembers that look and it cuts him just as much as it did then.

“It was probably regret. Da-ge wanted to give me an intensive few months of Sect Leader training, so that he could hand off the reigns sooner, before his qi deviations get really bad. He resolved himself to not see you during those months, because he said you distract him too much.”

“No, he—” Jiang Cheng starts, putting his head in his hands. “That’s not how that conversation went.”

“Clearly, it’s not,” Nie Huaisang says drily. “But we both know da-ge and we know you. Both of you tend to draw your own conclusions. Da-ge thought he made himself perfectly clear—asking for a few months with nothing but letters for contact—and you thought he was breaking up with you. I can see where you would get that idea from, don’t take me wrong—da-ge is horribly bad at wording things—but it’s not what he wanted. He’s moping and heartbroken at home. I didn’t even get any training yet.”

“You hate training,” Jiang Cheng mutters, his head spinning.

“I like logistics and getting people to do what I want,” Nie Huaisang corrects. “And I would like my brother to be happy again,” he tacks on, with a raised eyebrow.

Jiang Cheng swallows.

“He doesn’t want to take a wife?” he asks, just to make sure. “He doesn’t want to sire an heir?”

“He does want to adopt a kid with the guy he had been courting for a while,” Nie Huaisang says, absolutely nonchalant as if it’s not blowing Jiang Cheng’s mind to hear that Nie Mingjue thought about a little family of their own.

“Really?” Jiang Cheng asks, his voice full of hope and his heart hammering away in his chest.

“Really,” Nie Huaisang assures him, finally picking up his fan and flicking it open with the by now so familiar gesture.

“I think I have to cut your visit here short, then,” Jiang Cheng says, already scrambling to his feet.

“You go on ahead,” Nie Huaisang waves him off, draping himself over the table. “The flight here was way too exhausting for me.”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng says, rolling his eyes, but not actually bothering to convince Nie Huaisang.

If he flies alone he can push himself as much as he wants, and then he gets to see Nie Mingjue sooner.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng doesn’t bother to announce his arrival and Nie Mingjue’s disciples clearly don’t deem it necessary to do it, either, it seems, because Jiang Cheng simply barges into Nie Mingjue’s quarters without anyone telling him.

“What are you doing here?” Nie Mingjue asks him, his voice rough and Jiang Cheng sees the dark circles under his eyes and how pale he is.

It seems they both didn’t deal well with the temporary break-up.

“Huaisang invaded Lotus Pier,” Jiang Cheng tells him and Nie Mingjue immediately draws himself up.

“Whatever he said, don’t listen to him. I respect your choice,” Nie Mingjue reassures him and Jiang Cheng wants to go to him and hug him and kiss him, but for now he simply rolls his eyes.

“He said there was a misunderstanding.”

“A what?”

“You said you need someone to take over the Sect. You never mentioned Huaisang. I thought you meant you want to take a wife,” Jiang Cheng explains in as little words as possible, because he is dying with the urge to finally get his hands on Nie Mingjue again.

“A wife,” Nie Mingjue repeats and blinks. “If anything she would be the second wife, because I intent to marry you.”

Jiang Cheng flushes bright red at that, but his heart is dancing in his chest. With happiness, for a change.

“Yeah, I should hope so,” Jiang Cheng says and dares to step closer. “But I understand duty to your Sect and so when you said it like that—”

“You thought I would ask you to step back so I can focus on my Sect. You would have allowed me to take a wife?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“Duty comes first,” he says because if he learned anything in his youth then it’s that. “I understand that. I didn’t like it, but it sounded sensible to me.”

“Nothing about that is sensible, I love you, what the hell would I ever do without you?”

Find someone else to love, Jiang Cheng wants to say, but Nie Mingjue doesn’t let him, because with two big steps he’s right in front of him and he doesn’t hesitate to crush Jiang Cheng to his chest.

“What would I even do without my heart?” he whispers again and Jiang Cheng’s resolve is broken.

He slings his arms around Nie Mingjue and presses himself as close as he can get, his breath leaving him in shuddering bursts.

“I didn’t like it,” Jiang Cheng chokes out. “I missed you so much. I love you.”

“Never think something like this again,” Nie Mingjue begs him. “I would never do that to you, not for any duty in the world.”

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng weakly says and Nie Mingjue presses a kiss to his head.

“Not for any duty,” he repeats and Jiang Cheng nods.

“Okay, alright,” he gets out, his voice choked up with tears.

For once they are tears of happiness because he’s finally back where he belongs.

Link to my ko-fi

[orionwhispers]

Bravado // Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - its been a long ass time and i wanted to ease myself back into writing but this ended up being long and also super super angsty. sorry that this illness imagine came during covid idk whats going on with my imagination lol. love you guys SO much thank you for always being there. reblogs, comments and likes mean everything to me.)

trigger warnings - LOTS of angst. fluff. implied smut. my hc that tommy has a fear of illness, bad descriptions of hospitals. 

He knew something wasn’t right the minute his car pulled into the driveway and you weren’t waiting for him under the great concrete arch, with that smile on your face that made his knees buckle and heart race like he was a love struck teenager.

You were always there as soon as he came home. Barefoot in a broderie dress in the summer with tousled hair and baby pink toenails. Wrapped in a hand knit blanket with fire flushed cheeks and woollen socks in the winter - even running across the gravel and into his arms in the middle of a storm, the ice cold rain whipping across both of your faces as you kissed under the light of the moon.

No matter how shit his day or week or month was, no matter what stained his hands or darkened his heart, no matter what lay heavy and hard deep in his gut, seeing you made everything vanish in the night air like wisps of smoke. You made everything worth it.

He refused to give into fear, he wasn’t that kind of man, so he swallowed all of the nagging thoughts and apprehensions as he came up to the dark foggy windows and the iron cast door. It felt strange turning his key in the lock without the weight of you in his arms or the sticky peach kisses you left down his jaw and neck, the smell of the vanilla in your hair and lavender on your skin.

The second thing that sent a jolt of white hot electricity down his spine was Mary, watching him anxiously and wringing her hands in the hallway. Usually, she was calm and collected, taking his jacket and leather travel bag with her signature placid smile and gentle fingers. Usually she would return to the kitchen and finish up whatever she was making - a hearty roast lamb with rosemary and garlic and glazed potatoes or a pheasant pie with honeyed carrots, always followed by a three layer chocolate ganache cake that was so thick and rich you practically had to saw through the sponge. She would always have dinner piping hot and dripping with gravy by the time the two of you returned downstairs, no matter how many hours it took for you to get... reacquainted.

Now she looked sheepish and pale, her skin almost translucent under the syrupy yellow lights. There was something about the way she stood, as still as a wraith, that made his blood run cold.

“Mary. Where is she?”

“Mr Shelby, I - ” Her voice was strained and hesitant, like a slowly fraying rope.

“Where is my wife?”

She moved forward, creases forming around her eyes. “We tried ringing you in Liverpool but the hotel said that you had already left, so we...”

“You rang me? Why? What’s happened?” He couldn’t hold back the desperation in his voice, and it lingered and festered around them both like a poisonous gas.

“Mrs Shelby came down with something a few days ago, we thought that it was just a common cold but unfortunately she seems to be getting worse.”

He tore upstairs before he could even think, his shoes leaving perfect muddy footprints on the cream carpet. He almost slipped at the top, and he lurched forward, his hands reaching out and holding onto the portrait hanging above the stairs for stability.

It was the oil of the two of you. A soft, personal picture that revealed more than he ever possibly could. The love in your gazes, the hint of a soft, drunk smile on the dangerous gangsters face as you leaned into him, melting into him like butter, him holding onto you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. It was his favourite photo, one that always washed a sense of calmness over him, a reminder of the woman that he loved and the way he felt around you. But now he felt as if was riding out a terrible storm.

He lived his life with no fear, he was capable and practical and used to the sound of bullets and the copper sweet smell of blood. There was really only one thing, one terrible thing that he couldn’t control, and that was what drove him crazy.

Sickness.

It gnawed at his insides like a rabid dog, clawed under his skin and settled behind his ribs. Losing someone he loved was like ripping out a piece of his heart straight from his chest, and he knew better than anyone what it was like to lose somebody to a violent, quick death - the pull of a trigger or the smack of a fist. At least in those moments he could lock them away in his mind, he could leap in front of a bullet or crack the neck of any man who dared to get too close to you, but there was almost nothing he could do to stop sickness, and the devastation it caused.

When you first met him it had been a surprise, almost amusing, that this powerful God of a man had these small little quirks. His house was always sparkling clean and smelling of Lysol, his fruit bowls were filled with citrus fruits and round, plump blueberries. He always made sure you were wrapped up warm in the winter, always placing his coat around your shoulders and bringing an extra pair of gloves in case you forgot yours. It was adorable, the way he took care of you,

It wasn’t till a little bit later when you learnt of those he had lost. His mother and his childhood sweetheart taken away from him much too soon. It broke your heart when he told you late one night of the sallow tint of their skin and the way he could almost see them vanishing from earth, the way that illness had moulded and changed those he loved the most.

You understood.

Your best friends older sister had died of tuberculosis when you were young. The elderly woman across the street from your first flat had passed away from a bout of horrendous smallpox. Your brother lost his first child to pneumonia. Times were changing but the fear of disease was ever present. Medicine was improving and so was knowledge, but still there remained a huge, dark cloud of what could happen, one that always hung around your husbands head.

——————————————-

All Tommy could think was the worst as he ran through the landing. His heart was in his ears and his bones felt loose, like the sweet liquorice the two of you would share at the pictures. He came to a stop by the bedroom door, tentatively pressing his palm onto the wood and ever so slightly pushing it open, listening to the gentle creak it made.

The room was warm. The lace curtains were pulled shut, and your favourite lavender candles were flickering on your vanity, casting syrupy shadows against the wall. He exhaled loudly as he saw you, bundled up under a mountain of satin sheets and hand crocheted blankets, your hair splayed across the pillows.

He moved to your bedside, pretending not to notice the large, untouched jug of water and the tissue box next to you, hoping and silently praying that you weren’t sick - just asleep and waiting for him, ready to wrap your arms around his neck.

You were silent, your lips parting every so often as you breathed, your chest rising and falling. He reached out gently, as though he was picking up shards of glass, and brushed his fingers against your cheek. Your forehead was beading with sweat, your cheeks flushed, and yet your skin was ice cold to the touch. He recoiled quickly, his heart dropping like a weight into his gut, and he inhaled a shaky, deep breath.

He saw something curled up beside your hands, a fluffy white cloud with sparkling emerald green eyes trained on him. Despite everything, he smiled. He thought of your birthday - of strawberry cheesecake and champagne, and surprising you with a ribbon wrapped little kitten as you woke up. He thought of that day often. How you smiled and leapt onto him with tears in your eyes, his whole world blissfully quiet as he spent the day in bed with you and your new best friend.

He would have preferred a big dog, one with sharp teeth and a menacing gaze to ward of visitors whilst he was away. But you were drawn to the tiny, malnourished runt of the litter who was scared of his own shadow. A kitten no bigger than the size of his clenched fist. A little white hairball who only ate and drank from fine pink saucers. A cat that had a very frustrating habit of crawling in the bedroom right as Tommy’s hand was up your skirt and his lips on the sweet spot of your neck, the tiny thing mewling and crying until you picked him up and nuzzled him into your chest.

He was a horse lover through and through, and never saw himself having time for any other pets. But in the summer when you saw the litter from one of John’s barn cats and fell in love with the sweet baby who mewled and cried and crawled right into your lap - he knew that he would give you anything and everything you wanted.

Including a cat who refused to accept that Tommy was the man of the house.

“Hello, boy.” He said, leaning over to scratch Comet under the chin, using a voice he only reserved for the two of you. “Have you been looking after my girl whilst I’ve been gone?”The cat meowed loudly in reply, pressing his head into Tommy’s palm but not moving from his spot beside you.

Tommy suddenly felt you shift under him and his heart lurched into his throat. He turned to face you, cupping the side of your clammy face as your eyelids fluttered open, blinking under the candlelight. A rush of red hot heat built up in his belly as you registered him, that angelic smile growing on your face, your tired eyes glimmering with recognition of the man you loved.

“Tommy?”

“Hi, Princess.”

You smiled sadly. “You’ve been gone for weeks - I missed you.”

He felt his brows crease as he rubbed along your jawline softly, trying to stop you from falling back asleep. He felt panic in his throat as sour as vomit, and he tried to bite back the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

“No, sweetheart, I’m early. It’s only Thursday. I left on Monday.”

“Oh.” You said softly, your voice as gentle as the breeze rustling through the trees outside. “Well let me welcome you back properly - let me make you a lemon drizzle or a...” You lifted your head from the pillow and shuffled under your blanket, but he pressed his hands against your shoulder and held you down.

“No. You’re staying right here.”

“But - ”

“No.”

“Hmm. Don’t leave me, Tommy.”

“Never.” He said, his tone firm and cast like stone. He stroked your hair softly as your breathing slowed, but it didn’t nothing to quell the hard thump of his heart in his chest.

——————————-

Tommy left the room as quietly as he could after you had fallen asleep in his arms. He hadn’t wanted to move, not when you were pressed against his chest, looking ethereal but vacant, sweat beading under your brow and your face lacking colour. He wanted to stay with you, curled up by his side, his fingers laced through yours, the sound of your heart thumping in his ears.

But he was a man of action, and seeing you there - your lips cracked and dry, shudders passing through your body and goosebumps raised over your skin - he couldn’t fight the fiery urge to do everything in his power to make you feel alright again.

He found Mary waiting outside the door, chewing on the skin of her lips and swaying on the balls of her feet in anticipation. He grabbed her by the arm, harder than he meant to and something he would apologise for later, and pulled her downstairs, determined to let you rest whilst he got some answers. As soon as they reached the drawing room he spun her around, clenching his jaw and pointing a finger at the anxious maid.

“Where the fuck is the doctor? Why isn’t he here?”

“Mr Shelby.” She said, stepping forward calmly. “We phoned Doctor Moore and he came on Tuesday to see her.”

“Tuesday?” He seethed. “My wife has been ill since Tuesday and no one called me?”

Mary raised her hands in defeat, making it clear that the decision wasn’t hers to make. “He said it was nothing of concern . He gave her some antibiotics and told her to rest. She asked us herself not to call you, she knows how you.. worry.”

He ignored her sugar coated attempt to quell his anger, but if anything it made his vision darken. “When it’s my wife, It is always my concern.”

“Mr Shelby, we were just doing what we were told. As soon as we noticed she wasn’t getting better we phoned the surgery again, but Doctor Thomas was out for the day and said he didn’t think it was necessary to come round again, so we -”

“I don’t give a fuck. My wife is the number one priority. Ring every doctor in England if you have to, get somebody out here now to see my wife.”

He stormed away, anger pulsating through his veins, but he stopped suddenly, and threw out over his shoulder:

“And call Doctor Moore’s ’office. Tell him to expect a visit from the blinders soon.”

———————————————————

Once, when you were first dating, you found Tommy at the door to your flat at midnight, with scraped knuckles and blood dripping from his nose. You let him in, cleaned him up and sat with him in the bath until his skin was clear and his breathing was even. He knew that night, as you were pressed against his chest and his lips were pressed to your scalp that he was truly, madly and completely in love with you.

He remembered waking up the next morning, love drunk and blissful, and finding the bed beside him empty. He found you in the kitchen, wincing slightly and pressing a hot water bottle to your belly as you buttered a few pieces of toast. He rushed to your side with eyes as wide as saucers, concern lacing the features that were usually ice cold and hard as stone. You were completely baffled as he held you at arms length, his bright cerulean eyes trailing up and down your body for any signs of injury he might have missed. You were bewildered at the sight of the powerful man practically on his knees as he made sure you were alright, and you bit back a giggle as his warm palms spread over your abdomen.

“What is it? Whats wrong?”

“Tommy. Sweetheart.” You said softly, bringing his gaze level to yours. “It’s just - you know - that time of the month.”

He brushed off your embarrassment and ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead, sending a swarm of butterflies around the pain in your stomach.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, half ready to run down to the corner shop and buy any amount of painkillers or chocolate bars or your favourite lavender tea that you might need; not caring who saw the seemingly terrifying gang leader in the street with an armful of strawberry laces and salt water fudges.

You smiled like the summer sun and he melted, pulling you close as you whispered in the shell of his ear that you only needed him, and that was all you ever needed.

That was the first time you fully saw the extent of Tommy’s fear, but it definitely wasn’t the last. He knew he wanted you forever and always, and it took only six months of neck kisses and pillow talk, red hot jealousy and possessive hands across your skin and dancing in the rain and falling asleep under the pale yellow moon for him to put a ring on your finger. You were both consumed by your love, as though it was the only thing that mattered, it was insatiable and powerful - the wonderful mix of the devil and his sweet little angel.

And with that, came the good and the bad.

Like when you got food poisoning after Arthur cooked you a Sunday lunch to cheer you up whilst Tommy was gone. He came home to you retching over the toilet bowl with Mary holding back your hair, and swore that he would kill his brother with his own hands. Or when you slipped on ice and broke your arm while out with friends in London, and Tommy went ballistic and tried to ban you from ever leaving the house. It was just in his nature, how he always made sure you walked on the side furthest from the road, kept an arm slung around you whenever you were together, kept his eyes alert and vigilant no matter where you were - always looking out for his girl.

But he had never been like this.

———————————————————-

You were falling in and out of sleep. Waking up drowsy and heavy headed, squinting under bright lights, an ache in your skull and a burning in your throat. Every so often you felt a pinch in your upper arm, a squeeze on your palm, a kiss on your forehead - but you always drifted back into unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. The room was dark and you could hear the wind howling and whipping rain across the windows. You felt all too hot and all too cold at the same time, and the bed was damp with sweat. You struggled and tried to sit up, your head swaying and feeling as heavy as one of Tommy’s marble statues; as if you had been carved up and moulded. You could hear voices out in the hall, and unsteadily got to your feet, moving towards the noises.

“Pneumonia?” You heard through the thick wooden door, instantly recognising your husbands voice. “That’s impossible.”

“Sir...”

“Fucking. Impossible.” You knew his teeth were clenched.

The other man cleared his throat.“I know that it’s hard to hear, Mr Shelby, but your wife is very sick.”

“Just...” You felt your heart flutter and clench in your chest as the sound of his broken words, could practically feel his desperation and you wanted nothing more than to hold him. “Just tell me how to make her better.”

The second man spoke again, his voice softening and lowering, something you knew Tommy would hate. “Mr Shelby, the first round of antibiotics didn’t work and that means that it’s time for something stronger. Usually I would suggest the Birmingham hospital but I don’t think it’s equipped for...” He paused, trying to think over his words carefully. He wanted to convey the severity of the situation but also didn’t want to risk getting a bullet in his head from your very protective husband. “...This kind of reaction. I recommend we send her down to London for extra testing.”

“London? That’ll take two fucking hours. How the fuck can you recommend letting my wife travel that far? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I’m my opinion this is the wisest choice to make, but unfortunately that could mean your wife might get worse before she gets better.”

“Worse than she already is? That’s not an option.”

The man you assumed was the doctor was insistent, trying his best to portray the severity of the situation but failing as your hardheaded husband had already come to a decision.

“I’ll look after her here. She’s safest with me.”

Once Tommy had spoken that was the final result, and the doctor slinked away into the darkness and shook his head. You remained peering from behind the door, your tongue between your teeth and your heart hammering.

Tommy took one look at you and frowned, scooping you in his arms like a baby despite your protests. He ignored you, acting playfully and cheerful but you could feel his heated skin and the see flare of his nostrils. You wanted to help him but didn’t know how, and let him tuck you under the covers once again. He kissed your crown and stroked your hair and you wanted to speak but no words would leave your mouth.

“You stay there this time. You know I have no problem with tying you to the bed.”

You rolled your eyes as he left, and his clenched fists and tightened shoulders told you all you needed to know.

————————————————-

Comet watched from his spot beside you as Tommy wrestled with the fire. He had noticed you shivering despite your high temperature, and bundled you up in blankets whilst sparking matches beside the fireplace. There were raindrops across his shoulders, evidence that he had been outside and to the log store right at the end of the property - a job that had always been for the Groundskeeper. Your precious cat nudged the tips of your fingers as you sighed and watched your husband throw kindling onto the coal, a deep unease settling over your gut.

“Tommy, my love, I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly true but you felt he needed to hear it. But you could practically see your words wash over him and evaporate like ocean spray.

He was shaking a metal tin in his palm as he worked, and you groaned and let your head hit the pillow as he pulled out two round chalky tablets. You winced as he placed them beside your glass, your mouth already tasting like the sour talc medicine you had come to loathe. He raised his eyebrows and shot you a look that told you he wasn’t far off plugging your nose with his fingers to force you to swallow, and you childishly stuck up two fingers as you took them.

Your stomach rumbled with nausea and you bit back the bile in your throat as you settled into the pillows. You watched your husband as he pulled off his crisp white shirt, revealing his taut tan stomach and the deep ink tattoos that you loved to trace with your fingertips and your lips. There was something about him standing there, with those damn cerulean eyes and hidden muscles, that boyish hair and slender fingers that you wanted desperately around your throat, that made a million tiny fireworks spark inside of you.

But instead you pushed him away from you despite your body wanting nothing but him wrapped all around you. “Don’t get too close. I might have something contagious. I can’t have you getting sick.”

He ignored you, smiling inwardly at the way you always put others before yourself. It was one of the million reasons he had fallen for you. You were sweating out a high fever and shivering in pain, and yet you always thought of him first. He pressed his lips to your temple and pulled you closer, knowing that skin to skin was a way to bring down a fever - even if it meant he had to restrain himself from tugging off your pretty little white nightgown and whatever frilly things you had on underneath.

“I’m not going anywhere. Fuck it if I catch anything.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m the one who will have to dote on you hand and foot, you big baby.” You teased, pressing yourself into him playfully, finally giving in.

He held you like a child, trying to hard to soften despite the way you felt underneath him. Everything on him was running a mile a minute, and he couldn’t help but want to try everything and everything to make you feel better. His hand was pressed against your temple to always try and measure your fever, his other palm across your chest to try and count your heart rate.

He could hear Mary treading across the landing carpet but he ignored his anxious maid, instead letting himself be completely consumed by the only thing that mattered - you.

This was something he had to do by himself. He was the only one who could care for you he reminded himself. And he let the words tumble over and over in his skull until they were all he could hear.

—————————————————————-

You had been asleep for a long time.

Every hour, after pacing the length of the hall and sanitising his hands and wiping the beads of sweat above your brow and above your breasts he woke you up and held a cool glass to your lips. You mumbled and moaned and pushed him away but he kept his fingers across your wrist - harsher than he ever had before - and kept you as close to him as possible.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cooked. Perhaps it was last valentines when the two of you had camped out under the stars, drinking icy white wine and sharing stolen, day drunk kisses. That night he had roasted a chicken over the fire and it had burnt to a crisp as the two of you rolled around the grass, his head buried in your neck as you giggled at the poultry going up in flames.

He was trying now though, easy, plain substantial meals that wouldn’t upset your stomach. Boiled egg and dippy soldiers. Crackers with smooth cheese. Bubbly water and ginger biscuits. Each time he went upstairs you pushed him away, your whole body shuddering and almost retching, and he felt like smashing the plates against the wall at his defeat.

It had been almost thirty six hours since he had come home and it had been almost as long since you had eaten something, and his heart thundered and shattered in his chest when he found you gasping and wheezing over the toilet bowl when you had taken a bite of toast to calm him. He rarely left you alone, only for a few minutes to put the still full dishes in the sink, to ring Lizzie and tell her that he wouldn’t be coming for reasons that he refused to disclose, to smoke a cigarette under the grey stone archway, his shaking hands and bitten fingernails barely visible through the sleepy rolling fog.

He had grabbed handfuls of papers and the brass ink pen you had got him for your anniversary and broke his own rule - bringing work into your bedroom. It had always been a sacred space. For candlelight and soft laughter, aching hands and heart shaped bruises, a sanctuary for him to breathe and to love and to be loved fully in return. But he was afraid if he didn’t have a distraction, he might just completely lose it, and he had to be there for you.

So he sat squinting in his glasses, the room almost completely dark save for a few candles because of the migraines that had started to spread throughout your skull, and let himself be drawn into the mess of squiggly lines and numbers that suddenly didn’t add up, with you still centre stage in his peripheral.

After about forty minutes of rereading the same sentence a dozen times to try and make some sense of it, he heard your voice, like a small crack spreading across a sheet of ice, coming from the bed.

“Tom?” You sounded so weak, he practically flipped your cream vanity as he got to his feet and darted towards you. “I don’t feel well.”

He lifted you as you reached your arms up at him like a child. He almost gasped at the sweat pouring from your body but didn’t want to scare you, and instead held your shaking, shivering body against his own. How could you be so hot, yet so cold at the same time? Your skin was prickled with goosebumps yet you were burning with a fever, and for the first time in a long time, he had no fucking idea what to do.

He left you propped up against the headboard and he entered the bathroom. He ran over to the claw foot tub you loved, twisting the faucet and trying to find the perfect medium between boiling hot and freezing cold. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, just try and soothe your raging fever, and he ignored the shelves of expensive bath oils and scented soaps that you coveted, instead opting for a handful of something meant to ease tension - praying to whoever was listening that it would help you somehow.

There was a brutal, awful moment as he lifted you from the bed, limp as a rag doll, where he imagined what would happen if your heart were to stop. He couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to miss the weight of you in his arms, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your lips against him, the shovels stopping and fading into nothing. It hit him square in the chest, as merciless as a bullet, and he had to lean against the doorframe to stop the two of you from plummeting to the ground.

He undressed himself first. Tugging his white shirt off, sliding off his slacks and his underwear, keeping you as close to his chest as he could. Then he pulled your nightgown up and over your head. He gathered your hair and secured it up with a claw clip so that it was away from your face, the heat radiating off your neck as fierce as the fire now burnt down to ash in the bedroom.

He lowered the two of you into the bath, sinking down beneath the eucalyptus smelling lukewarm water, letting it wash over you both. Your teeth were chattering and you were barely awake. He gathered handfuls of water, letting it drip over your shoulders and pulse points, grabbing a washcloth and running it over your raised skin, hating how you barely registered his touch. As he scrubbed over your collarbones and up to your face he saw your lips had turned to an awful, silvery blue, as vibrant as a fresh bruise. He hissed and tugged on the plug, now determined to get you wrapped up in a fresh towel and tucked back into bed.

You were soft and placid and he helped you out, lacking the usual fire that he adored. Your eyes were glassy and missing their vibrance, like the vanishing spark of a lighter - and he felt miles and miles of invisible distance between the two of you. You were unsteady on your feet and he used his body to prop you up as he warmed your arms with a fluffy white towel. You suddenly stopped, lifting your hand to your mouth as you started to cough - a horrible, dry, gasping cough.

He noticed it almost immediately. His eyes darting to the splatter of red against the white, a smudge of crimson that was as loud and commanding as a siren, a warning signal that something was definitely not right. A bead of scarlet that would linger long behind his closed eyelids.

He managed to get you back into bed, remaining calm as he stroked your hair and kissed your temple. He tucked you under the duvet and waited for your breathing to even before he ran downstairs, his heart thumping in his ears as he practically ripped the phone off of the wall.

“Pol? Fuck. I think - I think I need help.”

—————————————————————-

The room smelt like bleach and metal. Unfamiliar and clinical. There was something hard on your chest and covering your mouth, it tasted like wet pennies and was as heavy as a hand over your throat, but for the first time in days you could finally breathe. You tried to sit up, but there was a needle in your chest, a gown you didn’t recognise cut straight down the middle to accommodate it. You struggled and lifted the thin bedsheet above your shivering torso, trying to look around the cold room.

“Careful!”

It was Polly, dressed immaculately despite her surroundings. She reached out and placed a manicured hand across yours, and you smiled at the woman who had always been a calming influence when you had joined the circus of a family. There was concern in her eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner and lifted lashes but still swimming deep around her pupils. That made you frown, and you moved as much as you could to face her.

“What happened?”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, choosing her words. “You gave us quite a fright, love.”

“I did?” Your memories of the past few days were much like a fever dream, blurry and distorted snapshots were all you could really remember.

“Your pneumonia got worse. A lot worse.” She paused, looking over to the door and you followed her gaze. “They found fluid in your lungs.”

“So...” You started, gesturing to the needle in your abdomen and the breathing apparatus around your head.

She nodded. “Yes. You were in surgery. It was touch and go for a little bit.”

“Really?” You were bewildered. You couldn’t remember anything, let alone having major surgery. You looked her straight in the eye, asking her the questions that had been on the tip of your tongue since you had woken up. “Where is he? Where’s Tommy?”

“He’s outside.” She clicked her tongue, reaching deep into her purse and pulling out some hand cream, gently rubbing your dry hands like she was your mother. You leant into her touch despite all of your questions.

“What? Why?”

“I think he blames himself. God knows what goes on in that mans head. All I really know is he was bloody terrified.” She paused, looking over in the distance. “I’ve never seen him so scared, not even on his wedding day.” She smiled sadly, trying to lighten the mood, but it soon faded. “He didn’t leave your side the whole time you were asleep.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, a soft aching that you knew all too well. “I want to see him.”

“I know you do. But right now...” She stopped right as a handful of nurses entered, clad in long blue dresses with white aprons, hair tied back and smelling of strong soap and disinfectant. You lost Polly in the bustle as one spoke softly to you before tugging on the needle right beside your ribs, your eyes just catching hers as she left, a promise to see you soon on her lips.

It wasn’t her you saw next, but Tommy.

The nurses had cleaned you up with wet flannels and bowls of warm soapy water. Your hair had been braided and your face washed, and walked you arm in arm over to the bathroom so you could relieve yourself. A skittish doctor followed after, his eyes darting across you and his touch gentle as he changed your dressings and took your blood - obviously under strict instructions from your husband, and despite everything, you smiled.

You were sat listening to the clock tick. A romance novel you had been given was dangling dangerously close to the end of the bed, but you were too tired to focus on it. You heard the door squeal softly, and the sound of familiar footsteps across the tiling, each small thud sending shockwaves across your spine.

“Tommy.”

He looked tired. Exhausted rather, as though he had been awake all the hours that you had been asleep. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was sallow and bruised. His clean shaven face was dark with stubble and his hair was ruffled and unwashed. You longed to reach out to him and cradle him against you, but he stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost.

“Tommy?” You repeated, your voice almost a whisper, breaking his already shattered heart once again.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

You smiled softly, like spun sugar and sweet honey. No hospital bed or itchy gown could dull your infectious light. “Better now.”

He approached you almost cautiously. He settled down on the hard chair beside your bed and stroked a line down from your temple to your lips, his touch setting you alight like an electrical storm. There was a sadness in his eyes that reminded you of how he got when things were bad, and you willed him to come back to you. His touch was tentative and he inhaled shakily as you cupped his hand with yours, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of his palm.

“Don’t scare me like that. Ever.” He was stern, as though hoping his words would make it true. “I mean it.” He kept his gaze on your pretty face, trying his best not to stare at the harsh bruising on your delicate flesh or the sickly tone of your skin.

“Tommy I’m going to get sick, even you can’t stop that.” You teased gently.

“I can bloody well try.” His hands cradled your face, pulling you into him and kissing you fiercely, still mindful of the wires and tubes taped to your body. There was something about the tenderness and deep longing in the kiss that when mixed with your total exhaustion and love for your husband prompted tears to start falling from your eyes. You sniffled as he pulled away, concern dripping from his beautiful features, his powerful mind wanting to do everything and anything to stop your hurting.

“Hey, hey.” He said, running his calloused fingertips under your eyes and wiping your tears away. You leant into his touch and he kissed your temple, squeezing you even tighter into him. “You know I hate it when you cry.” He toyed with your hair and winked playfully. “Besides, all you need to focus on is getting better. You’re going to have to take care of me when we get home, this week has given me a fucking stroke.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing the inside of his wrist. “You’re a idiot, Thomas Shelby.” You blinked at the clock looming above you both, wanting to stay in your blissful bubble but also knowing that Aunt Pol would probably be in the vicinity harassing a poor nurse over your results. “You should go and find Polly, let her know that everything’s alright.”

He shook his head and nuzzled his nose across yours, an act so innocent that your heart dipped and swooped in your chest. “Later.” He said, breathless and consumed by you. Everything had been too much. Almost losing you had been harrowing, it had punctured him completely and he just needed to feel his girl safe and warm around him. He needed to know that you weren’t found anywhere.

“I just want to stay here for a while. Just me and you.”

You grinned. “Always.”