#thomas wasn't even so shocked

[fideidefenswhore]

was the tudors 'oversexualized', or was that just how tv was back then?

[amomentsescape]

hi hi! I was hoping you could do slashers with a super bubbly and affectionate s/o who would beat up anyone who dares hurt the slasher while still holding their sweet smile

Slashers with Sweet and Dangerous! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: So I got a bit carried away and wrote this as if Reader is willing to kill for the Slashers. So hopefully it's not too intense for what you were wanting! Feel free to let me know what you think :)

Freddy Krueger

He knew there was a reason he was so drawn to you

You were sweet, kind, and just an overall ray of sunshine that Freddy never knew he needed

He loves basking in your warmth

But seeing you hold that damn grin while ripping out someone's throat for just punching Freddy has him weak in the knees

He loves the affectionate sweet side to you, don't get him wrong

But knowing that you can do a complete 180 makes him feel like he's in his own beautiful type of dream

He feels more comfortable telling you his plans now and the types of ideas he has for killing future victims

And you just sit there all happily and nod along like he's telling you a bedtime story

It's cute but also so foreign to him

He has a hard time remembering that you can be just as deadly as him when you want to be

Michael Myers

He honestly has no idea how to feel about this situation

It took him some time to get used to being with someone so cuddly and happy all the time

He wasn't much of a fan of it at first, but something inside him refused to let you go or kill you

But seeing you smile over his victims and even step in to prevent him from getting injured has him confused

He is more than capable of protecting himself

He doesn't need you getting involved

But at the same time, knowing he isn't the only one with this grotesque side makes him feel.... content, in a way

He just doesn't like you stepping in too much

His victims are his, and he refuses to share

But if you save him from getting stabbed or set on fire

Well... then that's fine he guesses

Jason Voorhees

You two are practically different sides to the same coin

He comes off as deadly, incapable of emotions, and just an overall killing machine

But when he's with you, he's the sweetest and most kind man you have ever met

You're practically the opposite

You come off as an innocent, bubbly goody-two-shoes to most of the public

But when someone dares hurt Jason, a hidden poison emerges from within you

Jason never thought you were capable of picking up his notorious machete, nonetheless swinging it right through someone's skull

He just froze up in shock at this realization

He was drawn to how sweet you were to him, but knowing that you're capable of killing only makes him more happy

He was always worried that you would leave him after dealing with his darkness for too long

But knowing that you aren't all sunshine and rainbows has reassured him

Thomas Hewitt

Considering what his family eats every night for dinner, he would have hoped that you were capable of similar actions to him

Killing is just a way of life to him, so knowing that you can do the same is so normal

That isn't to say that he wasn't surprised the first time you stuck up for him

But if anything, that surprise was immediately followed by a sense of relief

If you can do that, then you can fit right in with the rest of his family!

They liked how affectionate and kind you were to Thomas, but they were always worried that you were going to be too soft for their way of life

Now he knows there's nothing to worry about

Well, maybe except for getting on your bad side

You always have that sweet smile on your face, and he'll be damned if he pisses you off one of these times

Bubba Sawyer

The first time you killed for him, he couldn't help but jump around in glee

You're just like him!

You're covered in blood and guts but still smile sweetly at Bubba

Just like he does for you

It honestly just reinforces the idea that you were meant to be together in his mind

You stick up for him, and he sticks up for you

With that being said, he does still paint you as this sweet little angel that needs to be safe at all times

He doesn't want you to get your hands dirty unless absolutely necessary

So he prefers for you to stay away from all the carnage he goes through on a daily basis

But he won't try and control you

As long as he is met with that soft smile and big hug at the end of a long day, Bubba is content

Brahms Heelshire

Oh...

He's flattered, don't get him wrong

The fact that you're willing to protect him shows that you really are devoted to him

And he loves that

But he also doesn't want you intruding with his desires

That person is going to die?

Brahms wants to be the one to see their last breath

It's not very often he gets to feel like this, so he wants to soak up every exhilarating second of it while it's there

And you're just so pure and kind that he doesn't want you becoming all tainted like him

Your job is to be the good in Brahms and take care of him

Not to let this darkness take over

You provide, he protects

That's all he asks for

Norman Bates

And to think after all of this time, Norman just assumed you were like him

Quiet, sweet, affectionate

He had no idea you'd be capable of fully plunging a knife into someone's neck just for saying a couple mean words to Norman

But he secretly couldn't help the way he admired your blood splattered face, that smile he loved so much shining through it all

He likes feeling protected by you

It lets him know that you really care about him

And the fact that you can flip from one side to the other is so intriguing to him

In every other situation, you speak softly and gently laugh at the smallest things

But when one bad thing happens, the darkness creeps out

It doesn't freak him out as much as he would have originally thought

He just still can't believe that these sides to you are coming from the same person

Who is he to judge though?

Billy Loomis

Billy was immediately attracted to your warm energy

But he was also hesitant that he would somehow contaminate you with his trauma and dark fantasies

He wanted to keep you as were: the bubbly and happy partner that was always by his side

But when a last minute heist was going wrong, he would have never expected to look over and see you all bloody, a stained knife in your hand and a lifeless body on the floor

When he called your name, all you did was look up at him and smile

Billy just about lost it

He had always thought that he needed to be the one to protect you and himself

But seeing you throw yourself into violence for his sake was absolutely beautiful

He didn't think you'd be capable of something like this

But knowing that you are makes him love you that much more

You're nothing but perfect for him

Stu Macher

He won't say it out loud, but he's the tiniest bit scared of you

Not in a bad way by any means

If anything, he thinks it's sexy

And he can see a bit of familiarity in the way you act too

You both enjoy laughing at stupid things and keeping the energy up when needed

At any given moment, you two are all over each other and smiling so wide that you can feel your cheeks burn

You two make the ultimate power couple

But if someone dares say something bad about you, they're dead the next morning

And if Stu gets hurt by one of his attempted victims, you better believe you'll be there to finish the job

Stu honestly loves how deceiving you can be

No one would ever look at you and expect you to have this darker element

But to be fair, he's in the same boat

No one would ever suspect him of such behavior

And that's probably why you two make the perfect team

Vincent Sinclair

He never thought he'd ever meet some who cared for him the way you do

Especially resorting to violence just to keep him safe

This must be some sort of dream

You practically tore this person to shreds and yet, you're still able to turn back at Vincent and smile sweetly, asking if he's okay

Are you even the same person he was just cuddling with 10 minutes ago?

He worries that you'll get yourself hurt one of these times, so he tries to advise you against doing something like that again

But he won't deny the thrill it gave him seeing you act so... differently

Just please don't step in unless absolutely necessary

If anything happened to you, he wouldn't know what to do

He knows you can clearly take care of yourself, he just doesn't want to risk it

Bo Sinclair

What a precious little thing

It would be a lie to say that Bo wasn't immediately drawn to your softness and positivity

You radiated sunshine, and it was a new experience for him

He has always wanted to be the protector in his relationships

And he truly had no clue that you weren't just another damsel looking to be rescued

He remembers the first time you saved his ass

He turned up to see the man with a metal pipe sticking out of his chest

All the while, you're standing behind him, that sweet little smile still on your face like usual

Bo was at a complete loss for words

He loves this side to you

He still likes to feel all bad and tough

And he loves when you ask him for help and play up the innocence

But when something comes up, he knows he doesn't need to worry about you

[gothamite-rambler]

Duke knows that he knows

Duke Thomas and Tim Drake headed down the road in Duke's car as under the guise they were getting lunch together.

Duke: Tim, confession, I wasn't inviting you out of the house just for lunch.

Tim: We haven't gotten any food yet, so I figured. What do you need to tell me?

Duke: I won't be mad, you're my brother Tim, but when are you going to tell the fam that Bernard knows you're Robin?

Tim's eyes widened in shock, he averted eye contact with Duke. There's no way he knew, this had to be a guess to mess with him.

Tim (stammering): Th- That is a preposterous allegation! Bernard is- is in the dark about me being Robin.

Duke: Boy I am not dumb. You've had him pop up unexpectedly when we were on missions and you two were making those same 'do me' eyes when you're in your suit. Don't act like I don't notice. The others haven't, but I have. What do you have to say for yourself?

Tim (lying): He's a fan of Red Robin.

Duke: Tim, I saw you guys kissing goodbye after he happened to show up and help us take down that crook with the flamethrower. I like Bernie too so if either of you are worried I'll run and tell Batman, I won't you. You can trust me dude.

Tim groaned then bonked his head on the dashboard of Duke's car.

Duke: I'm not mad or anything. The secret is in my vault, but damn man you seriously told him?

Tim: He found me out.

Duke paused the music playing on the radio and took a breath.

Duke (loud): He what?

Tim: He said he figured it out years ago and was waiting for me to tell him. Then one night I went through my window assuming he left for the night. There he was and-

Tim groaned covering his eyes.

Tim: He was so cute with all the evidence he had, then he kissed me and I felt the piercing on his tongue-

Duke: Say no more, he got you with a truth kiss. Hm... ah well, I promised I won't tell the others and I'm sticking to that, but you understand you're going to have to tell them eventually.

Tim: Dick already connected the dots.

Duke (chuckled): And much like I imagine with him, I'm not letting you live that down.

Tim: Yep... I wasn't even mad when he told me he knew. I just felt relieved after he talked to me the next morning. I never thought he'd love me that much... and I should not have gotten that tattoo on such an obvious spot.

Duke nodded, starting the music back up.

Duke: You should tighten the sleeves on your suit, that way it will cover the tattoo better. That's for later, I can see you're embarrassed, to make you feel better want to get pizza? My treat.

Tim: Greasy food is what I need after that.

Duke (smiling): That's what brothers are for. And I'm happy you found someone who can keep your secret and love you like that.

Tim smiled.

Tim: Thanks.

[streetsweepershenanigans]

Out of all the '86 flyboys who became like uncles to little Bradley, it wasn't Mav, it wasn't Slider, it wasn't even Wolf or Wood- who taught him his first swear word, it was Ice He'd done it with his nieces and nephews and little cousins before, so why would Bradley be any different? Of course, he figured one of the others would have beat him to it, but the shocked and speechless look on Maverick's face told him otherwise.

When no one had been looking, he'd quietly beckoned Bradley over with a "Hey, baby Goose, com'ere." When Bradley's little voice had proudly chirped "fuck" over the dinner table, Maverick had immediately choked on his food and dropped his fork while Carole immediately burst out in laughter so contagious, Ice couldn't help but catch on. Mav's pale face and shocked expression only making the situation funnier.

"Carol, I swear- I didn't- I never-" Maverick rushed to defend himself.

"Oh honey, I know. And I know I didn't, which means," Carol turned on Ice then, and damn. He didn't think of that. He figured Maverick would've already pulled the stunt. "Mr. Goody two-shoes, Thomas 'Iceman' Kazansky, is the first person to teach my son a swear word." Carol cackled while pointing and accusing finger at him.

"Ice-" Maverick implored in disbelief.

"Well, I figured-" Ice gestured over to Maverick while struggling to conceal his grin.

The conversation turned from their to all three adult coaching little Bradley on how, yes- that is a word, and no, it's not a very nice one that should ever be used, all while desperately trying to suppress their laughter.

However it was Ice who would suffer the unforseen consequences of his little prank, as over the years, neither Maverick nor Bradley- now proudly Rooster, would ever let him forget that it was Admiral Thomas "Iceman" Kazansky, Commander of the Pacific Fleet who had taught him his first swear word.

[your-nanas-house]

An idea: Tommy has one of his recurring nightmares and YN decides to help him sleep by giving him a blowjob

Dunno who this anon is but I love this kind of ideas so much!! 🙇🏼‍♀️ So thank youuuu 🤗

Just another nightmare

◇ Pairing: Thomas Shelby x wife!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, handjob, choking, Tommy is a whore here and a sub... so bit ooc!Thomas, nightmare and PTSD and bad writing.

◇ Summary: Tommy wakes up from a nightmare and Y/n helps him calm down.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

"Tommy... Tommy—" her soft tired voice called as her hand shook him awake, bringing him back to reality and out of Morpheus's arms so to escape one of his reccuring nightmares.

Thomas never really talked about them with Y/n, preferring to just ignore them or ponder in silence while lighting a cigarette, instead of wasting her time by keeping her up with past crude memories... even though she offered her ear him each time.

"I'm okay" his low voice grumbled out in a dismissing tone, his body still sweating probably in state of shock as it trembled softly, joined by his fast heartbeat.

He wasn't okay, not at all... his mind was playing twisted games on him again and the past was heavier than usual during the night.

And she knew... but there wasn't much she could do if he didn't allow her to enter his mind to try, so to understand the problem better. The young woman kind of lost her patience, adopting a different approach when something like that happened when she was around.

The questioning and the oral support wasn't accepted from Thomas usually... he searched a more physical one even when there was a bit of hesitation at the beginning. But that night... it didn't seem like he would have calmed down with just some cuddles.

Reason because Y/n decided to try with a different physical and oral help.

So her tender hand traveled from his sweaty chest down to his abs and lower before sneaking inside his underwear, earning a shaky breath from Tommy.

The poor man was still a bit under shock, his body sweating cold, his heart hammering against his chest as his jaw remained clenched. Y/n could see his muscles since the moon reflected its light on them in a lovely way, allowing her to start a path of wet kisses from there.

Her beautiful eyes remained closed as her hand lazily pulled slightly down the fabric so to ease the access. Feeling his pre-cum leak on her warm skin when she accidentally brushed his angry red tip.

"Shhhh, everything is okay, love. You are here... in bed with your wife" the young woman started as she pumped his now hard lenght, using her spit to lubricate the action

"At your house in Birmingham... safe and sound... it's just you and me, honey" she purred softly out attempting to calm him down while her hand kept working. Her free one slowly moved Tommy's sweaty palm towards her so that she could place a kiss on his knuckles before sneaking it in the neckline of her nightgown.

As if by reflex, his rough hand grabbed her left breast, kneading it flesh while he felt her heartbeat against his skin.

Her tactic was working, his body was reacting at her touch and his mind was turning off, letting lust take over him... making his heart still beat fast but not due to fear or adrenaline caused by something awful but because of her small hands working his cock.

The feeling was getting intense and Thomas' eyes shot open as he slowly approached his orgasm, his muscles tensed and his back slightly arched while his hand moved away the blanket so that his icy stare could watch his wife work her magic.

The man could see his dick throbbing thanks to the attention and the familiar pre-orgasm feeling was getting more and more noticable. He could feel her soft fingers giving some attention to his balls as well before black dots formed in his view, making him roll his eyes and arch his back even more.

A whoring moan escaped his lips while he shot his seed, dirtying her hand and the sheets. He never came that hard before.

He could hear a whistle in his ear that covered the background noises in the room but not the breathless and impressed curse that left his wife's mouth.

Thomas was about to say something when she shifted, now wide awake, shutting him with her warm tongue which began to clean up the mess he did.

"You should react at my touch like this more often, love" the young woman commented smugly, gagging when he thrusted up his hips with a fake annoyed expression, so that his cock would have shut her up and removed that shit eating grin off her face.

[rosiemarieyn]

Office Hours

pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: Your annoying boss and his annoying behaviour.

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1.03K

Note: Yall...I'm out of ideas that's why ı havent written anything...IM SORRY.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Every girl in this city would sacrifice their lives to be in your place as Thomas Shelby's Personal Secretary, mostly because they think being his secretary means they get to have "fun" with him while in reality that's NOT the case AT ALL. He's always moody, mean, and rude to YOU. Not anyone else, YOU.

Always seeing him laugh -well, not really "laugh" but you know what I mean- with other women working alongside you. Was it something you did? Was it your attitude? well, you didn't really have an attitude. Always known as the shy and calm girl before he ruined it and made you like him. Moody, mean, and rude.

But right now you had a job, more like a chore. And It's to bring him his whiskey and documents as if he didn't have a whole ass collection of whiskey in his office.

You walked into your boss's office, holding a glass of whiskey as he requested for you to bring him. His feet crossed and thrown onto the desk, he looked at the simple document in his left hand while holding his cigarette with the other. Business was the priority and you were well aware of that.

He didn't even waste any energy acknowledging you came into his office. Typical Shelby. Thinking he is always seated on a pedistool, higher up from us "peasants".

You put his requested glass of whiskey on his desk, not yet noticing that he started looking at you with annoyance portrayed all over his face. "You're late," he spoke with his husky voice.

"I- I'm not-?" You muttered surprised as you looked down at him in the eyes you so adored from a distance. "You were supposed to be here with my whiskey AND documents at 4. It's 4:03." You rolled your eyes internally at his words, are you fucking kidding me? That's all you could think of. Is this guy messing with me?

You let out a soft sigh, putting on a fake frowny face as you widen your eyes at him. "Oh, please excuse me, sir. I didn't intend on being late." pulling out the documents out of the little bag you were carrying, just before you lowered them onto the desk in front of him he took them aggressively out of your grasp, leaving you in shock and making you think why he was aggressive today.

"Are you okay, sir?" Really? You knew it wasn't your place to comfort him but how could you control yourself when he was acting this way towards YOU?

"I need you to arrange a meeting with Mr. Solomons for me." He took a sip from his glass as he skimmed through the documents you brought for him.

He noticed you were still standing next to him, waiting for him to speak. "Go on. Go do your job." He dismissed you, shooing you away with a small motion of his hand as if you were a dog to him. Did that make you furious? yes. Could you do anything about it? No, not really, so you left rolling your eyes when you reached the door and shutting it behind you.

You were too furious to feel his eyes gaze at you as you walked away, smiling to himself as he muttered under his breath while shaking his head.

"What a darling thing, hm?"

You walked back into your chair and plopped onto it before sighing loud enough for Thomas to hear but you were glad he didn't. You were close to the line of getting fired from all your attitude towards your dear boss.

You looked up and saw your co-worker and best friend, Rosemary. The worry in her eyes was real, unlike other people who have been in your life before.

"Sweetie, are you okay? She asked with her unmistakable accent, she wasn't from around here so it was quite hard to get used to her accent but you managed.

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong, Rosie. Is there a proper reason for why he's acting this way towards me?" She fake-cleared her throat. "And you." You rolled your eyes, smiling. It was true, He didn't like both of you, but he despised you more. It was clear that he wanted you out of this company.

"Well darling, I think you should talk to him about it. How are we supposed to know why he acts this way towards you without talking?"

Oh if only it was that easy Rosie. Of course, It was easy for her to say, she lacked shyness. Probably because she didn't know how things worked around here but we won't be talking about that right now.

"Come on, go and talk to him." now she was dragging you to his office?! Oh, she was bold. You tried pulling away but her grip was strong, too strong almost.

It wasn't long before she opened his door without knocking and threw you inside, closing the door behind you. Shit. There was no going back now.

"Is there something you need?" He was, of course, annoyed at you. Not Rosie, you.

You walked closer to his desk with shaky hands and took a deep breath before speaking. "I uh…I just don't understand why you're acting…this way towards me. Was it something I did or…?"

"Sit down."

Shit. Did you say something you weren't supposed to or something? You sat down at one of the chairs in front of his desk, putting your hands on your knees. Was it that obvious that you were nervous? Why was he looking at you like that? oh god-

"I must say I find you fascinating. And I would like to ask if you'd like to have dinner with me. Business related, of course."

What? What kind of joke was this? You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding before responding.

"I uh…sure, I guess."

"Well then, you may leave now." He gestured towards the door, still holding that cold expression on his face as if he didn't just ask you out.

You stood up, leaving as quickly as possible, running towards Rosemary's chair. She just HAD to know what happened.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

taglist: @hiraethberry @1-fuzzy-squirrels @justcallme1anangel @tejasvkris @rosierosem @meowsicles39

[cutieshonie]

♪ → YOU MAKE ME WANT TO SCREAM! ← ♪

pairing; scaramouche, ayato, childe, kaveh , gn!reader

content warnings; toxic relationships, unhealthy relationships, toxic boys, smut, arguments, verbal abuse, rough sex, making up sex, crying, degrading, emontional abuse(?), reader has no vision and is just a normal citizen, attempted physical abuse, dubcon, attempted killing(? Idk scara almost uses electro to shock you), threats of murder

notes; I was listening to mars argo and this song made me have a idea, (it's called runaway) and @cutiesgawr said that I should do like toxic smut or angst thing, while their doing another lyric one ! These boys are toxic, so deal with me ;3 btw

🎞️ SCARAMOUCHE is rather someone that makes you want to scream, his arrogant attitude, his ignorance. His neglection to you, your relationship. All he wanted to do was to get that gnosis, take revenge on those who wronged him. His cruel words, you finally had enough as you can feel tears coming. It wasn't due to sadness but rather due to anger, you harshly rubbed at your eyes as you clenched your fist. You bit at your bottom lip, you inhaled and exhaled. "Scaramouche, I thi-" before you could say your words, he cutted you off. "Just leave me alone, I don't want to deal with you." He said, looking at you with a blank look. You suck on a breath, you wanted to scream right there. "Scara! You bastard! Can you atleast pretend that you care!?" You yelled, you glared at him, he had a dark tint in his eyes as he smiles and looks at you. "Why should I care? I didn't even need you! I could fucking kill you!" He screamed, you stepped back as he laughs and walks towards you. "What's wrong, baby?" He teased. "Where's all your confidence gone? Hah?" He said, you flinch as he corners you, he lets out some electro, seeing a purple light makes you more scared. Your body shakes in fear, how dumb can you be to say that to someone who has an advance! "Hm, you work for that fox girl. Right?" You peek open your eyes as you slowly nod your head. What was he going to do? He leans towards you, his lips landing on yours, you gasp as you push on his chest. Your hands slowly fall to your side, was he finally giving you attention, he pulls away as you whine. He chuckles as rubs at your hips. "I am sorry, baby.. how about I make it up to you~?" He says in a melodic voice, your face feels hot as you nod. He sucks on your neck and bites on it softly, you gasp as you realize that he was going to do it outside. His hands land on your legs as he makes you wrap your legs around him. "mfhm! Scara, w-were outside!" You cried, he hums as he take soff your lower clothing, you closed your eyes as he takes off his lower clothing. Revealing his hard dick, he aims it at your hole. He pushes into you, going you down as you slowly take him. "Mmh!" He groans and moves quickly, you gasp and cling onto him, your back is against the wall as he slams into you, his dick hitting those special spots in you, it makes you go dizzy. You can see stars, he groans in your ear, your hole clenches move around him, your toes begin to curl, you moan loudly. Not caring for someone heard you or not, your eyes roll back as you climax. You let out a sigh, he lets out a small moan as scara climaxes, you can feel his dick twitching in you, you can feel him filling you up. He gently sits you down, your mind feels all mushy. Scara can be a bastard but I guess your into bastards like him!

🕰️ AYATO is a wealthy and praised man, a perfect husband! He was but he wasn't so great, his silver tongue wasn't something that was healthy. Him manipulating you, and everyone else made you mad. How stupid can you be for not realizing it! You have a smile to Thoma as you walk by him, he gave you a smile. You walk down the halls to his office, standing infront of his office, you exhaled as you open the door, ayato was at his desk. Writing on papers, he looks up and smiles, he looks back down, you walk towards him, you were going to talk about his behaviour and actions. "Ayato, I want to speak to you" you remained calm. "Hm? What is it, sweetie?" He said, you sighed. "Why are you manipulating me?" You said, he looks at you and tilts his head... His simple action made you mad, how can he pretend that he doesn't know?! "I feel taken advantage of!" You yelled out, he smiles softly and looks at you. "Ah? What do you mean dearest? Why are you talking crazy?" He said, you clenched your fist as you glared at him. You wanted to scream at him so badly. "Stop pretending! Ayato, you know how cruel it is!" You slammed your fists onto his desk, he doesn't say anything as he looks down and looking at the messy desk. "Sweetie" he got up and you backed away, he smiles as he grabs your wrists. Twirling you around as he gently lays you on his desk, you glare up at him. "Dearest, I could never, I think you been to stressed... How about I make it up to you?" He said, you raised up an eyebrow, what did he mean. He goes down as he looks up at you, his lips curling into a smile. "Wha—!" You let out a moan as his mouth lands in your crotch, you games down at him. "What do you say?" You gripped at the desk, your heart was racing. Your eyes were focused on him and you didn't even feel yourself nodding to his question. His mouth goes back to your crotch, sucking at your sex through your clothing, he smirks as you whine. He takes off your lower clothing, looking at your underwear. He smirks and take sit off, slowly. You whined and he lets out a chuckle, he was amused by you. His tongue touches your sex as he slowly licks at it, his mouth goes on your sex, licking and sucking. You moaned and closed your eyes, your eyes roll back as his mouth doesn't stop pleasuring your sex. Your sex leaks out your pre-cum/juices, you gasped as his teeth touches your sex. Your eyes were completely rolled back, your chest goes up and down, you were seeing stars. He kept on going, soon you were to climax, he sucks more harder, you whined and grip at his hair. You climaxed. "How about we continue later, after I finish work, m'kay?" You nod, he smiles.

🪐 CHILDE is a dangerous man you feel inlove with, his job was risky to be with. His bloodlust and wanting to fight was also dangerous, you grip at your clothing as he practiced and practiced and kept seeking out the blonde traveler. Didn't he know that he can get hurt?! Your hands grasped your clothing, he loved you and you know that! He would give you anything but he was selfish. He wanted power and he kills people, he kills so that he can satisfy his needs, his killing and fighting does that for him. Childe craves more and the world gives him so little, he comes back battered! You didn't like that and you always wanted to scream at him, you feel powerless. You didn't equal to him at all, he had a advance to you already but he was a bigger advance! You gripped at your clothing as you wait for him, you wanted to confess how you felt and you hoped that he wouldn't take it the wrong way. You got up as you faced him, he had some cuts in him, he looks at you and smiles sheepishly. "Childe, can I tal-" he walks by you, you look at him as glared at him. "Listen to me!" You screamed, he stops in his tracks as he turns to look at you. You exhaled and clenched your fist as you tried to hold in your anger. "What is it?" He said. "Stop, being so.." you said, muttering. "What? Stop being what?" He said. "Stop being you!" You blurt out. "What? Stop being me?" He said, his eyes having a dark tint. "That's not what I meant! I meant being so... Selfish!" You yelled out, he glares at you. His glare makes you get goosebumps. "Selfish? Hah! How am I being selfish?" He said, taking a step to you as you take a step back. "I am giving you all you want and you call me selfish? Don't make me laugh!" He said, you flinched. "Argh! See! You don't get what I mean and you just want more and more!" You screamed to him. "More and more of what! All you do is stay at home while I do my job and you dare to speak to me like that?!" He screamed and he takes steps towards, his hand raises up as his weapon comes out. Your eyes widen as you fall to ground, you look up at him as a dark shadow covers his face, he drops to floor as he holds your cheek. "Sorry, baby" he says, you look at him in confusion. "Sorry, baby. Semes like we are both stressed, I didn't mean it..." He said, he kisses you. "Sweet baby, how about we forget about all of this. I think we both need to get rid of our stresses.." he says, you look at him as his hand lays on your thigh. You gasp as he smiles at you, looking at you with a warm look. You were both mad at eachother and now he wants to have sex? You tried your best to be mad and say no but he looks so sweet and warm... What happens if this your last chance if this happening, you and Childe never had sex in while .. you nod your head as he kisses you. Slipping his tongue into your mouth, lifting you up as he lays you on the bed. Your hands gripping at his shoulders. You kiss him as he fastly takes off your clothing and his, his dick is standing up as it leaks out some pre-cum, you moaned when his dick touches your skin. His dick teases your hole before he finally enters you, he puts you in a mating press. Your legs tucked as he kisses you before moving fast. "Fuck... Baby, you feel so good~" he says, his dick hitting spots in you, fast and hard. You can feel yourself ready to cum, your eyes roll back due to his fast movements. "Ahh! Childe!" You cried, your hands grip at his hips as he slams into you. His fast, needy actions show as he is about to climax. Moaning and groaning into your ear, your eyes roll back as you arch your back. His dick hitting at spot in you, your hole clenches and you climax. He kisses your neck and he slams into you, his dick twitching and he fills your hole up. We'll your selfish for his dick and his love and he seems to be selfish for your body and love!

🚬 KAVEH is someone you admire, his job and how hard he works. But he works about to hard, it's quite concerning. He was a sweet lovable man that you loved so much but you he doesn't spend time with you that much. You know he is busy but does he have to drink, it isn't a the best way to escape from struggles. You wanted to talk about it with him, you wanted him to take a rest and just focus on himself and you. You smiled as you set up dinner ans the bed, you pat yourself on your back, you wait for him. "KAVEH!" You got up as you heard the door open, you see your blonde boyfriend, he looks at you. You smile as your hand rests on his shoulder, you tilt your head. "L-leave me *hic* alone!" He said, you look at him as your eyebrows furrowed, he was drunk. You could smell it on his breath, you sighed and smiled. "Kaveh, I made us dinn-" he walks by you and towards the bedroom door. "I don't want!" He cried, you grab his wrist. "Kaveh, you have to stop" you said, he glares at you. "Just leave me alone" he said, you frowned and point at the table. "Kaveh, I made us dinner and drink some water." You said, his eyes roll. You kept in bothering him as you try to drag him to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He shakes his head and he groans, you want to scream at him. He wants listening and you were starting to get mad. He pushes you as you gasp and look at him, he opens his mouth. He starts spewing out nonsense and words that hurt to you, you grit your teeth and he moves to you. His hand raises up as you lift up your arms. He stops as he sobs, you look at him and he stops to the floor..wiping away his tears. "Sorry.... I am just a fucking mess, I don't want to hurt you and I am so sorry!" He sobs, your eyes tear up and you hug him. It wasn't his fault. "I am so sorry, sweetie.." he cries, you nod your head and kisses his cheek. He loks at you as he kisses you, his hands under your shirt. You pull away. "Kaveh, your drunk an-" he cuts you off. "No... It's okay, I want it, I I want to make it up to you... My love" he says, you smile and he nods his head. You both make your way to the bedroom as you both tangle with eachother, hands in hair as you makeout, you moan and whimper. "I love you so much, I am so sorry, baby.." he says, kissing your chest as he takes off his pants in a hurry, holding you close. "I love you too!" You say, you moan when his dick enters you. You wipe away your tears as he fucks you. Bending you as his tongue sucks on yours, fucking you slow then faster. Your eyes roll back and he begins to moan really loud. Whimpering in your ear as he goes faster, getting sloppy. Your legs tremble in pleasure and his dick twitches. Warning you for his soon-climax. You kisses him harder, slamming your lips together, you both climax at the same time, holding eachother close. You smile and look at him, h kisses your neck and smiles. Well the food probably goes gone cold but oh well!

[fallingdownhell]

Inazuma men when you walk in on them in an intimate position with your sister/best friend.

YES, some angsty shit again! Uhhh, I like it when it hurts xD

Characters Included: Ayato; Heizou; Kazuha; Gorou

Content: gender neutral reader; she/her pronouns for your friend/sister; cheating; hurt/no comfort; angst and drama; you walk in on them; suggestive on some parts; Gorou being manipulated; non-consent on Kazuha's part, but not explicit!!

Word count: 2,4k words

Thank you so much for giving me an angsty request. Have fun reading!

Ayato

He would think so high and mighty of himself

Like, he was sure that he was hiding it pretty damn well and that you would never find out about his little secret

you have been engaged to Ayato for some time now, the wedding due to happen soon

it has been a marriage of convinience, both for him as well as your family, yet you were relieved when you found out you were going to marry Ayato, having had a crush on him for a little over a year now

you thought that over the time he got to know you, he also developed feelings for you, he certainly did tell you so

for a long time, you were blinded by the illusion you so desperately wanted to believe, ignorant to the sad and sympathatic looks Ayato's staff would give you

You excused his long and late hours away from you, telling yourself that he was just catching up on work and that he was alright

You only started to get somewhat suspicious when you noticed one of your friends visiting the Kamisato estate rather frequently, but only ever staying for a short period of time, while she never even talked to you when here

still, you gave them both the benefit of the doubt, thinking that they might just be working on something together

Thoma, however, knew what was going on behind your back. He wanted to tell you on so many different occaisions, yet he had to think of his own job as well and how his actions could put himself at risk, as well. So, he never said a single word to you, keeping you oblivious

until one day, it was late at night again and Ayato told you he would be working late again

you nodded and let him get back to his work, but later decided to surprise him with some snacks and refreshments you wanted to bring him

you were feeling kind of giddy when you approached his office door with the tray in your hands, as you noticed weird sounds coming from behind the doors

you didn't want to believe your ears, this couldn't be happening.. not your Ayato..

so you pushed open the door slightly, enough for you to peek into the room, only to have your world crushed in front of your eyes, along with all your hopes and dreams for the future

your ears did not decieve you, Ayato was, in fact, cheating on you this very moment with the person you thought to be one of your best friends

what's even worse was that he noticed you, standing by the door, having caught them in the act

and all he did, was smirk at you as he leaned down and bit into the other womans neck to which she let out a loud moan

shocked, the tray slipped out of your hands as you turned on your heels and started running down the halls, tears streaming down your face

you passed Thoma on the way to your room who shot you another sympathetic look.

He knew it... he was in on it..

now it finally dawned on you, and it all made sense.. why everyone was always looking at you like this.. they were all in on it.. you were the only one who wasn't aware..

still crying, you grabbed a bag and took some of your most important belongings as well as some clothes, before you left this estate you once hoped you could call your home

seems like some things just weren't meant to work out in life...

Heizou

he wouldn't want to do it, but he would if he could get some kind of benefit from it

Heizou has always been a very flirty personality, even while in a relationship with you. It caused arguments on more than one occaision

he would always tell you that he would stop doing it.. that promise would sometimes last for a week, often times shorter than that, before he got right back to his usual behaviour

the worst part was, that he saw nothing wrong with this type of behaviour

as long as it got him the results he desired, he didn't care for the method he had to use

it was cruel in a way, but he didn't want to acknowledge that he could do wrong as well

when this particular incident occured was when he finally realized how wrong his attitude had been

he had been stumped on a particular case for a few days now, no new leads showing up and the trail was starting to get cold

it frustrated him beyond anything else and to top it off, he was currently engaged in yet another heated argument with you

you were ticked off by the way he was shamelessly flirting with a shopkeeper, right in front of you while on a date

he tried to explain that he just tried to get some clues out of her, but you didn't seem to want to hear it

after some more yelling, you left the house to catch some fresh air and cool off, while Heizou stayed back

he sat in front of his files again, trying to make sense of all the clues when someone knocked on the front door

he recognised your sister there and while he planned on sending her away at first, she made him an offer he just couldn't turn down so easily

spending one night with her in exchange for the missing clues he needed to solve this case

he didn't think long before agreeing to this deal

she entered the house and it didn't take long before things got heated and they both landed on the bed he normally shared with you

it didn't really feel right to do this, but he was doing it for the greater good. He's sure you would understand that

while they were in the middle of things, with her being on top, riding him, he suddenly heard the front door open and a sharp inhale being taken

he whipped his head around, seeing you standing there, looking shocked and hurt

immediately after that, you turned and ran out the door again, he saw tears beginning to form in your eyes. He wanted to get up and run after you, but.... he couldn't. He had to keep up his part of the deal. He could always talk to you the next day

when he sought you out the next day, you were refusing to speak to him.. and the day after... as well as the day after that

he was getting frustrated, missing holding you in his arms. He grew irritated without you around..

the next day, he saw you in the streets of Inazuma City, so he walked up to you

However, once he reached you, he was met with a slap in the face. It stung, and he looked at you in surprise

tears welled up in your eyes again as you turned and tried to leave again, but he quickly snatched your wrist, trying to explain his reasons to you

you stayed and listened, but your expression was hard and ice cold the entire time

"I hope it was worth it in the end, because you lost me for good now"

that was the last thing you ever said to him again before you left his life for good

and finally, Heizou understood what he had been doing wrong this entire time... and he regretted his decisions like nothing else in his life...

Kazuha

now for Kazuha... he is a very honest and loyal soul

you never would have thought that you had to worry about anything like that with him, already having bad experiences from a previous relationship

Kazuha always made time for you, made you feel loved and appreciated, always told you how much he loved and adored you, whishing you would stay with him forever

you honestly felt the same way about him, already imagining a future together with him

but... we all know how easily Kazuha can get drunk.. and just how drunk he gets from so few drinks..

you were going out with some of your friends to party a bit, and you decided to invite your boyfriend along

he didn't mind it, deciding not to drink anything so he could keep an eye on you and make sure you're safe throughout the entire night

it went well in the beginning. You were moderately drinking with your friends while he was sipping on whatever non-alcoholic beverage he ordered for himself

he always kept an eye on you, but at some point of the night, he lost sight of you

while walking around the vicinity, looking around trying to find you, he ran into one of your friends, who was obviously pretty drunk at this point

she clung onto Kazuha, staying close to him, slowing him down immensely

at some point, she offered him a drink. He refused at first, but she kept insisting, promising that it would be non-alcoholic

being the sweetheart that Kazuha is, he gave in after some time, only to realize too late that she had been lying, it was very much an alcoholic drink

but it was too late already, she forced him to down the glass and then another one right after, getting him drunk

in this state, he didn't have control over his mind or his actions, he just went along with whatever she said to him

so what if she suggested to go into an isolated corner so that they could have some "fun"

in his inebriated state, he didn't realize that the person he was doing it with, wasn't you

only when he heard a gasp and saw you standing there a few feet away from him did he regain some of his consciousness back

he saw the tears forming in your eyes and he tried to run after you, but even in your own drunken state, you were faster than him, he couldn't catch up to you

the next day, he woke up again with a severe headache but still perfect memory from the events of that night

he immediately set out to look for you, finding you rather quickly

you had dark circles under your eyes and they were red and swollen from all the crying

he apologized to you over and over, telling you what had happened. He hated himself for letting this happen to him, yet he was still more worried over you

it is up to you if you want to forgive him or not, he will accept whatever decision you make. Just know that he is so, so sorry and if you choose to give him a second chance, he will make sure that nothing like that will ever happen again..

Gorou

oh, poor little Gorou..

he is soo easy to manipulate.. people can tell him everything they want, and he is prone to believe them until proven wrong

he loves you dearly, with all his heart, but he often doubts himself, fearing that he's not good enough for you

so, when someone else comes along, planting even the faintest bit of doubt in his mind about your relationship, he grows restless and insecure

you, having already a strained relationship with your family, especially with your younger sister, spent most of your free time with Gorou, so normally, there wouldn't be anything for him to worry about, right?

Well, the thing is.. your sister has always had a thing for Gorou, even before you two got together. She neve told you about it, but ever since you made the relationship official, she hated you for it

she wanted Gorou all to herself, yet you were standing in the way of that goal. She had to get rid of you somehow..

the first few months of the relationship went by great, you were both so in love with each other

yet, after that, your sister started to visit Gorou whenever you weren't around him. You could be at work or out doing something.. she would be there visiting him, leaving again before you returned again

at first, it was just normal visits. She would simply talk to Gorou, asking him how his day went, getting to know him better. Though she asked to keep this meet-ups a secret from you, since she claimed she wanted to reconnect with you on your terms alone

Gorou, being non the wiser, agreed to that

this went on for a while until she started to plant seeds of doubt in his mind. Spreading rumors to him how you were meeting up with some other guy, how the meet-ups became more frequent, that you were probably cheating on him, and so on

Gorou didn't want to believe her, choosing to trust you. But, being so gullible, he started to see things that weren't actually there. He imagined you coming home later than usual, thinking you were avoiding his gaze

he didn't want to admit it, but with every further visit from your sister, he believed her more and more, now doubting everything about your relationship with him. Did you ever even love him?

the final part of her plan came, when she convinced him to sleep with her to "get you back for cheating on him first"

it felt wrong to him, but he still went along with the idea. At some point, he did get into it, not noticing how you came back earlier than usual, flowers in your hand..

those flowers immediately dropped to the ground as you realized what you just walked in on..

and in that moment did he remember.. today was your anniversary.. 6 months togehter...

he immediately ripped himself off your sister, calling out your name, but you were already out the door. He quickly threw some clothes over himself to run after you, but your sister caught his wrist, begging him to stay

he paid her no mind and ran after you, yet he wasn't able to find you, no matter where or how hard he looked..

defeated, he returned to his place, curling in on himself.. tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow he's gonna find you and talk to you..

however, the next day, he found out that you had left Watatsumi Island.. you went and found Kazuha, leaving Inazuma with him on the Alchor..

you were out of his reach, forever now, and it was all his fault.. he had no one else to blame but himself for his stupid actions.. he lost the best thing that ever came into his life, and he would never get you back...

[hiraya-rawr]

lover from another nation ~ hcs .

characters !! all the genshin men i could think of rn...

note !! it's been a while since i've written hcs for a lot! aaaah just some thoughts i had today (i had a few culture shocks here and there when i met up with new friends hahahah)

~ m o n d s t a d t ~

grabbing zhongli by the hand to dance and sing in the middle of the square because mondstadters live for the festivities! he quickly learns to freestyle dance along with you, moving with the crowd and cheers and wine. (remember that Tangled scene? yes)

kaveh wasn't sure how to react the day you ordered hard liquor on your first date. sure, your freedom and love for a good drink is one of the things which made him fall for you but wow– are you really gonna down that many glasses on a date? what do you mean you're still sober?

ayato finds himself in love with the way you sing. it doesn't follow the rules of inazuman opera at all; it's much more freeing (much like how his house help sings as he does chores) and you'd tell him stories and the history of your homeland in the form of songs. no mondstadter could ever forget the songs they grew up listening to!

heizou being almost appalled by your rather... robust and reckless nature. you don't have any backup plans whenever a situation goes south, you simply hold his hand, smile, and say "we go where the wind blows!"

~ l i y u e ~

diluc having chopsticks as part of your dining utensils because sometimes, you're more comfortable eating with it (let's not forget often having rice on the table! he must learn the joys of garlic rice with his steak <3)

dainsleif stays by your side as you offer incense and fruits to your ancestors. he whispers quiet prayers, bows when you do, and helps you clean their altars. he finds solace in the familial piety of liyuens– it makes him wish he could honor his ancestors with the same kind of peace as you do.

kazuha getting tongue tied over the language being so similar to inazuman but also so different– why are some of the characters the same? why are the meanings different? there's a bit of miscommunication in the start, but you both find your own ways to understand each other when words fail.

we all know gorou has always wanted to climb the mountains of liyue and you made it possible! meeting him by the docks and touring him around your home nation, you made sure to pick hiking routes with the most scenic spots, even managing to tour him around the jade palace and the floating lone island.

~ i n a z u m a ~

kaeya has no idea how you sit on the floor while being comfortable. you've made him sit with you once while reading a book, after that, his bones ached for days! shaking every time he stood back up!

albedo met you in the irodori festival- he painted you for practice and spark between you started. the long distance was difficult at first, but his long letters always had a little drawing of you and you'd send back the scent of cherry blossoms. klee would also send you letters, asking you to come visit soon!

childe loves a new fighting style; like most sword users in inazuma, you followed the raiden shogun's teachings– swift, efficient, and at one with the sword. he loves how you fight and it's often how you end your dates!

cyno was almost confident that you were playing a prank the day you said you'll make him your specialty and you showed him a platter of raw seafood. it's "sashimi and ngiri" you say, and he waited for you to explain the pun of your joke. it wasn't a joke.

~ s u m e r u ~

thoma is quite used to mondstadters and inazumans, two very different cultures, then he meets you and your sumeru upbringing! you show him how to cook foods that can be eaten with hands, and your menu is often so colorful he can't help but admire it!

itto doesn't really understand the study culture of sumeru, but he totally supports whatever it is you're talking about and tries to add in comments (his comments don't exactly make sense though...)

scaramouche, in his "path of redemption and healing", unwillingly gets involved with you as you show him around the beautiful parts of sumeru! you argue that he needs a different, better outfit with a color scheme that matches his vision. he insists that the hat stays. you tell him he looks like an aranara.

~ s n e z h n a y a ~

al haitham was almost concerned the day you got a heatstroke after being in the desert for no more than a few minutes. snezhnaya has prepared you for harsh weather, but never the heat. soon enough your lover is carrying around heatstroke-first aid packs just for you.

bundling up tighnari's fluffy ears before setting foot in snezhnaya because you just know the cold would practically freeze them off. his tail also gets wrapped and bundled warm in the large coats you wear, protection from the harsh snow. he says he looks like a big lummox.

note !! alright, choose your favorite dynamic! i personally think mondstadters with liyue/inazuma would be interesting maybe because i want to force feed them the joys of rice...

// if i misinterpreted a culture then umm... just know it wasn't intentional and let's consider it a real thing in teyvats culture 🫣😎

commissions || general m.list

taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @roriver @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat @stygianoir14 @shizunxie @bluriie @aestellia @abyislan08

[nomoreusername]

A Bittersweet Reunion

Pairing:Gally x female reader

Summary:Despite the way reuniting with Gally should be only happy, you both end up going through every kind of emotion.

You didn't know you had missed the official reunion of your dead boyfriend. To be fair, being stabbed by some random person because you got a little too close to someone in a crowd probably does require some medical attention. Still, you had gone more than half a year grieving over him and swore you were every other second. You were just one stage away from acceptance that he was actually dead.

Apparently, you never even had to. While that would admittedly be quite an annoyance when you found out, it would be a happy one.

Gally had been pretty anxious about seeing you all day. While he still listened with full attention to the more than dangerous reason everyone had traveled all the way to the very last city (Denver), the back of his mind was filled with you. Were you okay? Were you safe? Had anything extreme happened to you while he was gone? Did you hate him with every part of you? Did you move on?

So many questions and no answers. Not until he was able to get back to the Right Arm base and see you. Would you punch him in the face the way Thomas had? Would you want to see him? Who knows? Certainly not him.

You were waiting on a bench, your arm wrapped in fresh bandages. While it was now a numb hurt, it was definitely painful. Any idiot would know be able to tell.

It was getting late. You didn't know exactly what time it was since there weren't any clocks or windows near you, but you were certain of that. Nobody had given you any information about anything. You weren't informed of why or where your friends had vanished off the face of the earth. Nobody was aware that you're Gally's lover so they didn't bother to tell you about that. As far as they knew, you were less than a stranger on the street to him.

He wasn't sure if Thomas had only said you were here to hurt him more. He wasn't sure if Thomas had lied to make sure he would have hope torn away from him. He wasn't sure if Newt had confirmed it because he wanted to cover for him. He wasn't sure if Fry had said it too out of frustration at all his actions the last time they had seen each other.

Apparently, you're right behind the door standing in front him. That's what everyone told him before they left to eat.

He couldn't eat. If he did, he was sure he would vomit. His stomach was twisted in knots, threatening to suffocate his organs.

Taking a deep breath, he told himself to be strong and get it over with before he opened the door.

You looked up from the floor you had fixated on for almost an hour. When you found yourself staring at your love that you thought you lost forever, you froze.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what your reaction meant. He didn't know if you were shocked, afraid, angry, or any type of emotion.

You hadn't found your voice, but you were able to stand.

He was still your Gally though. He had to be. If he moved on while you were staying loyal to someone you thought was dead, that would be a new kind of betrayal.

He had grown almost an inch taller, making the height difference just a little more obvious. His brown hair was now completely buzzed. His coffee eyes held this certain softness that you had never seen from him before.

He was still here.

All he could do was look at you. Your hair had grown a little since he last saw you but was still the same Y/H/C color. Your Y/E/C eyes still held this gentleness that he didn't think he could ever have. Everything about you just seemed better despite almost nothing having changed. Better than he ever had been. Better than he could ever be.

In his mind at least. In yours, your other half was right in front of you.

“Gally?”You whispered, eventually remembering how to speak.

“I’m sorry,”He whispered back, not knowing what exactly he was apologizing for. Killing Chuck? Waiting so long to go with you? You living your life believing he was dead? Every one of those and more?

Slowly walking over, you stared at him for a moment. Just as he was staring back you threw your arms around him, the tears pouring from your eyes no matter how much you squeezed them shut. Silently sobbing into his chest, you hugged him as tightly as you could, afraid that if you let go this would be another dream.

He was never a crier. He hated it. Nobody had ever seen him cry. Not even you.

He didn't care about that right now. The love of his life was sobbing at the realization that he was alive despite the way he had stayed up for nights thinking that you hate him now. The love of his life was breaking down with emotion.

Holding you back, he rested his chin on your head as the tears dripped down his cheeks. Shutting his eyes, he repeated apologies. Each one made you cry harder as you realized he thought he had something to be guilty for.

“I missed you,”You mumbled into his shirt, firmly gripping it in your hands.

“I missed you too. I missed you everyday,”He promised, his voice cracking. As he tried to pull away you shook your head and pulled him as close as possible. You didn't want him to disappear yet. Something like that had to be some sick dream. There was no way this was real. “I’m here. I’m right here,”He soothed, rubbing your back.

Knowing that the longer you stayed the more it would hurt when you awoke you quickly pulled away, wiping your eyes. With your face buried in your hands, you waited for your heart to ache again in a way that put you two steps back.

Instead, you felt his hands in yours. Slowly pulling your hands away, you kept them in your sides as he cupped your face.

Suddenly, a group of people ambushed you. While some of them tore Thomas away from Chuck others were grabbing you, forcing you from your lover's body. Shouting for them to leave you with him, you tried to hold on, reaching for him.

This was real.

“Gally.”

“Y/N.”

A small smile creeped onto your face despite the tears falling from your eyes. Wiping them with his thumbs, he smiled back as his own spilled.

Pressing his lips to your temple, he kissed your forehead. Feeling your heart flutter in your chest, you gazed at him with nothing less than love. Looking at you the same way, he thanked every higher power there may be that you had found your way to him.

♡ - - - ♡

It was wrong. Maybe. Maybe it was disgusting that as everyone else cried over Chuck as he slowly died you had run over to Gally. Clutching his shirt on your hands, you let out silent yet pained screams. Bowing your head, as you found your voice you demanded that he wake up. You had already had to run through the Maze thinking you would never see him again. It wasn't fair that he would leave just as you had him. It wasn't fair.

“Wake up!”You demanded, shaking him.

He wanted to. He wanted to say that he was just barely holding on. He wanted to say that this on top of the sting meant he was paralyzed.

He couldn't though. He just had to watch you sob as you believed it was over.

He couldn't. He didn't think his mouth would even allow him to say those words. He didn’t want to hurt you all over again.

There were more of them, and they were stronger than you. That meant that no matter how much adrenaline you had and how much of a fight you put up they were able to drag you out the door.

As he watched you leave a single tear dripped down his cheek.

Sitting straight up, you gasped for air as sweat ran down your entire body. Putting your hand over your chest, you tried to take deep breaths.

You had had that dream more times than you could remember. It had haunted you, had made you afraid to sleep for months. You avoided it until you were sick and passing out standing up.

You thought reuniting with him would surely fix that. It only made sense for you to feel okay again.

You don't. Not in the slightest.

Gally had heard you wake up. It was impossible not to since you had both fallen asleep on the floor right outside the medical room, you being held in his arms.

Leaning against the wall, you put your knees to your chest as you kept telling yourself that he’s right beside you.

It had been so long though that nothing seemed real. Absolutely nothing.

“It's okay,”He coaxed, sitting in front of you. Slowly pulling your hands away from your face, he pressed his palms to your cheeks as he looked at you. “It's okay,”He repeated, not knowing and not needing to know what was going on. All that mattered was that something made you cry.

“Please don't leave again?”You begged through shaky breaths.

He didn't know how to tell you that he had to stay here. Maybe. How could he possibly explain that he pledged his allegiance to Right Arm? How could he ever tell you that now that you're here he didn't know what was right? That he didn't know how he could explain it? That he didn't know if there was any getting out of this? That maybe your only chance of being together forever was you staying here instead of going back with your friends?

All he wanted was to savor this time with you. No matter how short or how long it was, he just wanted to take in every moment, to burn every second into his head.

“Thomas-”

He was worried that if he spoke he would spill everything he couldn't yet. That he would admit all the things he didn't want to.

Making sure no words could escape, he firmly pushed his lips against yours. Shutting your eyes, you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting yourself get lost in the kiss. Depending it, he let his hands travel down your waist and to your outer thighs, keeping you close to him. Not wanting to pull away anyway, you separated to breathe for only a second before crashing your lips back against his.

As you were falling into the other's touch, the door opened, making you both pull apart. Standing there and staring at you with wide eyes, was a dumbfounded Thomas.

“How could you?”He sputtered out.

“He’s a killer. You can make all the excuses you want-”

“He killed Chuck. How could you sit there and kiss a murderer? How?”

“It wasn't his fault,”You said firmly, standing up to be on his level.

“But he still did. He killed him. He pulled the trigger.”

“It's not an excuse. It's the reason. He would never, ever hurt Chuck. Ever.”

“Yeah. He was aiming for you.”

“Excuse me?!”

“How does that fix it?”He snapped, his glare turning sharper.

“If I was stung and remembered how much you hurt us, I would probably try to kill you too.”

You couldn't avoid it forever though. You both knew that.

“This was your fault, Thomas! You set it up! You made the Maze! You trapped your friends in there! You can pretend you didn't, but it doesn't change it! You! Are! Guilty!”

“I fixed it!”

“No you didn't! Minho is missing! People are dead! You didn't fix shit!”

“I never killed anyone!”He denied, ignoring the pang of hurt it put in his chest. The guilt of all the people he lost would still strike him out of nowhere. The fact that one of his friends would think the same only made it worse, though he covered it up with anger.

You didn't believe that, but you couldn't let him insult Gally. If that meant reminding him of the indirect blood on his own hands, so be it.

“Chuck jumped in front of you so you wouldn't die. You didn't move fast enough, and now he's dead. You didn't push him away, and now he's dead. You were a Runner, and you still weren't fast enough. He’s gone. He’s never coming back. He cared about you so much that he gave his life. If you didn't exist, he would still be here.”

With a scowl and tears pricking his eyes, he left, slamming the door so hard it shook the hinges.

With a frustrated groan, you slid down the wall behind you, running your hands through your hair. Sitting beside you, Gally let the silence fill the room as he ran out of things to say. He just placed his hand on your knee, promising that he was still here.

For now.

♡ - - - ♡

Thomas was still furious at you. He felt betrayed. He felt as though you genuinely hated him.

Gally was just supposed to be showing them Teresa. He was only supposed to be explaining the plan.

As Thomas’s coldness chilled the air though, it was obvious he would have to say something.

“I know that you don't like me. I know you hate me. I know you think I hurt you, that I hurt Chuck, out of anger,”He tried, leaning against the railing. Looking at him with a blank expression, Thomas let him speak. “The thing is you don't have to like me. You don't have to want anything to do with me. You don’t have to be my friend. I don't expect that from you,”He sighed.

Thomas was positive that was true. That he would never like him.

“If you care about Minho, if you want to rescue him, you do have to trust me though. If you don't, this won't work. It will only lead to arguing and no communication. It will ruin the entire thing.”

Pursing his lips, Thomas felt his stomach drop as he realized the truth to his words.

“So until this is over, can we be civil? Can you trust me? When it's done, you won't ever have to see me again. Until that happens though, can you do that?”

Sighing, Thomas leaned against the railing further away, nodding as he knew it was true.

“Okay. Until this is over,”He accepted.

“What do you mean we won't ever see you again? Aren't you going back to be with Y/N?”Newt asked slowly, picking up on the words.

With guilt flooding his chest, Gally bowed his head, looking at the concrete ground miles below him.

“Gally, she's been a wreck for months. This morning is the most fine she's looked since you were gone. You can't do this to her again.”

“I . . . I don't know what I’m going to do,”He confessed.

“Y/N needs you. You don't understand how hard it's been on her. You can't abandon her again,”Newt kept pushing.

“It's not that simple.”

“How is not that simple?”

“I have a job here.”

“You told her you would always be loyal to her. She had plenty of options to pick from. She had people she could have been with. She could have been with so many others, but she still chose you. She thought you were dead, and you still came first.”

At his words, Thomas felt remorse for the fight last night. He realized he had let his emotions overtake him. You loved Chuck too, but Gally had been your world. You couldn't just move on. It didn't work like that. No matter what he did, you two loved each other in a way most people would never understand.

If he could still love Teresa, why couldn't you love Gally? She had done it on purpose yet his heart still yearns for her. Why would it be fair to not let yours yearn for him?

“I know. I just don't know what I’m going to do yet. For now, just don't tell her? I need to figure out what comes next, and then I will. So please just don't say anything?”He pleaded.

Newt knew all about secrets. He was great at keeping those.

“Yeah. Okay.”

♡ - - - ♡

You and Thomas hadn't really spoken. Neither of you had the courage to talk about what had went down. Not yet.

“I’m sorry. For getting mad at you about being with Gally. And for calling him a murderer. I don't . . . I’m not really over it, but I know he means a lot to you. He makes you happy. You're my friend so I love you, and I want you to be happy.”

He was nervous and admittedly still a little hurt. At the same time, he knew he had hurt you too. He had essentially accused you of betrayal as if he didn't love someone on the other side.

Needless to say, you weren't the most excited when he had pulled you aside to speak to you.

Of all the things to leave his mouth, you didn't expect that.

“I know you didn't kill anyone. It's not your fault. It never was, and I shouldn't have thrown that in your face. I wasn't angry, but I was hurt. At the end of the day though, you are my friend too. You paid your debt so long ago, and you don't need to anymore. You shouldn't be reminded of it. Nobody's deaths were your fault, and I'm sorry.”

He thought about the promise last night. How Gally made them say they wouldn't tell you he didn't know why to do yet.

It was going to suck when he did, and it already sucked to keep the secret.

“So we're okay again?”He clarified.

You had all slowly left when Thomas followed him, trying to process it. None of you were stupid. No matter how in denial you were, you knew the truth deep down.

“Yeah. We are.”

Hopefully, you still will be when this is over. Or hopefully you never find out that he knows.

♡ - - - ♡

You had all watched Newt push Thomas against a wall. You had all watched him scream in his face. You had all watched the regret in his eyes when he pulled away. You had all watched him leave holding his arm.

You stared at the wall, your face blank as everything became too real. Gally was beside you, his hand on your knee as he took it in himself.

♡ - - - ♡

“This sucks,”You whispered, breaking the tense silence.

“Yeah. It does,”He nodded, not knowing what else to say. Then again, did anything need to be said? No words could change Newt becoming a Crank, and it did in fact suck.

“We fixed Brenda. Somehow. We can fix him,”You mumbled half to yourself and half to him.

“What do you mean?”

“Brenda got bit but a Crank a few months ago. Mary gave her some kind of shot, and it cured her,”You explained.

“So we need to get him to Mary.”

“Janson shot and killed her,”You said simply. There was no other way to put it. That was what happened.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Going back to silence, you placed your hand on top of his. Both of you were still staring straight ahead, trying to decide what comes next.

“If you can't even decide-”

“Why would you keep this from me?!”

He should have known better than to think you wouldn't find out. He should have realized that somehow, someway, someone in Right Arm would spill everything. They didn't even mean to. They weren't aware that you weren't supposed to know yet here you are.

“I didn't know how to tell you,”He repeated, saying the same thing yet again. With that only frustrating you more, you tried to shove past only for him to grab your hand, desperately pulling you towards him.

“I don't want to talk to you!”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Why the hell would I want to be with you when you were just going to leave again?!”

“I’m not leaving. I don't know what I’m doing yet.”

“Well, do it without me!”

“I don't want to do anything without you!”He yelled back.

“You clearly do! You can pick Right Arm! I won’t be a second choice! I will never let myself be that!”

“You're not a second choice!”

“I understand if you don't want to be with me anymore. I really-”

“I love you!”

Both of you froze at his words. For as long as he could remember, he has never told anyone that, even you.

This was a hell of a way to say it.

“What?”You whispered, your anger slowly fading into disbelief.

“I love you. I have loved you for almost as long as I can remember. I feel more for you than I ever have for anyone. You, it's always been you. For so long, it's been you. For so long, you have been my everything. I thought this would be hard. I thought I wouldn't know what to do. I thought I would be too focused on taking down WCKD to actually know, but it's so obvious now. You are the right decision. You are what matters to me. Not revenge, not forgiveness, not proving myself, not a cure. As long as you love me, as long as you still want to be with me, my life is complete. I know that now. I know what the only right choice is.”

Gawking at him, you tried to figure out where this soft-spoken boy came from.

“I love you too,”You promised through heavy breaths as you pulled away.

Cutting him off, you slipped your hand out of his to hold his face before smashing your lips against his. Freezing for a moment, he tried to comprehend that you still wanted to be with him. When it did sink in, he wrapped his arms around your waist, gently kissing you back. Pushing him against the wall behind him, you frantically deepen it, desperation practically radiating off of both of you. For as long as you were capable of, you put off oxygen, deciding that this was much more important. Not the kissing. Being so close to each other that you were practically one.

You kissed until you inevitably ran out of air.

Kidnapping Teresa and getting inside of WCKD had gone off without a hitch. To be honest, there wasn't a real reason for it not to. Everyone had gone over the plan more than enough times, and she had reacted exactly the way Thomas said she would.

“I love you. I love you, and I always will,”He repeated, the words easily rolling off his tongue as though he said them everyday.

This is good. Right now is okay.

How the people he works with will take it is a different story.

♡ - - - ♡

“No,”Lance said simply.

“No? What do you mean no?”

“I mean no. You can't quit to be with some girl.”

“This isn't some girl. This is my girl,”He said firmly, putting both his hands on the table as he looked him in the eye. Literally.

“You made a deal. Your loyalties are here now.”

“I was loyal to her first. I can't not be.”

“You can, and you will be,”He argued.

“No. This is my Y/N. This is my girl, and she comes first. Nothing you do will stop me. Nothing,”He spat, turning around to walk out.

“If you leave, we’ll take her instead.”

Stopping in his tracks, Gally slowly turned around. Lance simply nodded, his hands behind his back.

“What?”

“We’ll take her and not to take your spot. If you leave, we’ll kill your girl.”

“That's not fair. You can't do that.”

“Life isn't fair.”

“No. You don't get to touch her,”He scowled, storming up to him. With the coldest eyes a person has ever had, he glared at him.

“But we will. You know very well we can get to anyone we want.”

“You're a monster.”

“Of course I am.”

“No. You can still think. You're an actual monster. You're heartless.”

“Yes. I am.”

“I won't let you take her.”

“I will.”

“No. Nobody will put a hand on her. You understand? Not while I’m around.”

“Then, I guess we’ll make sure you aren't around.”

Going completely speechless, his heart dropped to his stomach.

“You can make a choice. You either break it off with her tonight or we’ll take her tomorrow. Your choice.”

With that, he went back to tending to his roses as though he hadn't just ruined Gally's only chance of happiness.

♡ - - - ♡

“I don't actually love you.”

The words were simple yet somehow the cruel ones your ears had ever heard.

“What?”

“I lied. I don't love you. I barely even liked you,”He deadpanned, keeping his face expressionless as he looked into your eyes.

“What the hell are you talking about? We’ve been together for years. Now all of a sudden it meant nothing?”

“It never meant anything.”

Looking at him, at his calm demeanor, at his emotionless face, at the empty shell of a person, you swore this was a stranger.

“How? How could you be with me since the Glade, wait for me, kiss me like I’m everything, call me your first choice, and tell me you love me, only to not mean it?”You asked in disbelief.

“I was hoping you would have given it up, but you're taking too long. I never felt anything for you.”

It was the most despicable excuse he could think of. It was the coldest, most humiliating reason he could come up with.

That's what he wanted. If he made himself look like the worst person to exist, you wouldn't miss him. You wouldn't want anything to do with him. You would hate him instead of being hurt by him. You wouldn't blame yourself.

The more it stung now, the sooner you could heal. You could move on and find someone better, someone that isn't him. You could be happy.

All he wanted was for you to be safe and happy, even if that means losing you.

“Are you fucking kidding with me? We had four damn years together just because you wanted me to give it up? Are you fucking serious, Gally?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

With nothing less than hatred burning in your eyes, you shoved past him. As you were in the doorway though, you said something that may as well kneed him in the gut.

“I wish you actually died.”

With that, you turned out, wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks.

With a devastated sigh, he shut the door before leaning against it. Putting his head in his hands, he felt the regrets of everything he had ever done in life hit him all at once.

♡ - - - ♡

Taking slow steps forward, the others dropped to their knees as well, the shock of it all hitting them like a gunshot. Gripping the cure, you held it to your chest, to your heart, the once light object now being the heaviest thing you had ever held. It was his one shot at life, now nothing but a worthless liquid.

You hadn't spoken a direct word to him. You hadn't even spoken about him. You just pretended he was some random stranger on a mission with you and silently cried yourself to sleep only to repeat the cycle the next day.

He wanted to say something when he heard you covering your mouth as salty tears flowed down your face. He wanted to tell you that he had only hurt you so you wouldn't be killed. He wanted to come clean. He wanted to be with you after months of separation.

He knew he can't though. Not yet. Not until he can fully get out of the city.

The plan was organized before the break up, and you didn't want anyone to know what you currently believed was the truth. That meant you had accepted your original position of being amongst the WCKD guards for longer than the others the way Gally was.

You debated shooting him with the weapon in your hand. Watching him go down and struggle seemed worth it right now. It seemed deserved. Even if you missed him, you’d get to shoot an actual WCKD guard, though you’d admittedly prefer for your shot to be right on point. You had never hated anyone with this kind of fiery passion until now.

In the end, you held back. When this was over, you would never have to see him again. You could go back to pretending he was dead.

You both watched as Thomas, Newt, and Minho jumped through a window. Under your mask, you grinned at the way he had been rescued. It has taken almost forever, but it happened. He was basically officially out of WCKD. As soon as you all left the city, that would be it. Everything could go back to normal.

You looked as they landed in the swimming pool under them. With that same wide smile, you came out of your position with the other WCKD workers and Gally. Making sure your gun was drawn and out, you allowed one of them to talk so you wouldn't blow your cover. As they were in the middle of demanding your three friends to surrender, you turned and shot him. At the same time, Gally took down others, being sure to avoid you. He had already caused you enough pain. Your heart would physically ache, and you had still barely been able to stomach anything. The last thing you needed, that you deserved, was more hurt.

When they were all unconscious you and Gally jumped down the small steps. When he pulled his mask off, he simply nodded and made a remark about them being nuts. You on the other hand ran straight up to Minho.

You didn't throw your arms around him. The last thing you wanted was to hurt him. Instead, you carefully hugged him, keeping your grip loose. Tightly hugging you back anyway, he stared at Gally with wide eyes as he did. This was definitely something he didn't expect.

Keeping his face neutral, he pushed down the lump in his throat at how close you two seemed again. He had already been worried about your relationship before, but now that he had to break your heart there was no guarantee that you two wouldn't be more. Even after he explained, you taking him back felt like a dream that he would spend the rest of his life chasing.

Shaking his head, he started walking away. Everyone else followed, prepared for the next step of the plan. Even if Minho didn't know what that was, he knew it was better than getting caught again.

♡ - - - ♡

You were all so close. You had run straight through bombs and gunfire for Newt. You had kept the cure in your hand, ready to save his life.

You didn't.

As you sprinted up, your heart shattered yet again in a brand new way as you looked at one of your best friends, dead on the floor, a knife penetrating his chest. Your body locked up as you met Thomas’s eyes that were full of something you couldn't decipher. There was some kind of guilt and maybe even blame. They were numbed over, done with everything.

Tears streamed down your face as he got up and walked away. Still focused on your best friend, you didn't even notice that the others had arrived beside you.

You couldn't meet their gaze. Not when you had the cure that would never be used, the cure that could have saved him, the cure that you hadn't gotten to him quick enough in your hand. Not even able to walk, you fell to your knees in that spot, the needle still tightly clutched between your fingers.

The Safe Haven didn't feel the way you had imagined, the way you thought it should. You didn't feel thankful to be there. You didn't feel happy. You just felt tired, drained, like a shell of a person.

You all stayed in that position, mourning not only Newt, but everybody that you had all lost. Ben, Alby, Chuck, Jack, Winston, and all your friends you hadn't had the time or energy to while in the Glade. It wasn't until Jorge had come with his Berg that you had been forced to get up.

You couldn't. You still felt trapped, as if you were watching from someone else's eyes. Knowing that you had to go, Gally laid a hand on your shoulder. Looking up at him with tears in your eyes, you shook your head and silently begged to stay here and die in the city. Shaking his head back, he reminded you that even now it wasn't over. In far too much distress to argue, you shakily got up. When your legs almost gave out, he caught you. Letting you lean against him, he led you to the Berg with everyone else and now Vince as well. When he got here, none of you knew, but none of you cared either. It would never change anything.

It would never bring Newt or anybody else back.

It would never get rid of your guilt.

♡ - - - ♡

You didn't cry. You couldn't find it in yourself to. You just sat by the shore, writing all their names in the sand over and over until you couldn't even feel your fingers.

You didn't celebrate being alive and well at the bonfire. How could you when you didn't even feel alive? How could you when so many people weren't? How could you when almost everyone you knew would never make it here?

You thought back to the moment he had broken your heart, and something clicked in your head. You hadn't noticed it at the time, too drunk on fury, but his voice has cracked. He was close to tears, and he had dark bags under his eyes.

You thought about everything. Not just the people that were gone but the people that were here. Thomas who you had made up with. Frypan who you had never fought with. Minho who you had helped rescue.

Gally.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I know what I said was messed up. I know that I hurt you, but I didn't want to. I never would. I-”

His words had been lies. You were sure of it now.

Gally hadn't gone to the celebration either. He was too busy looking for you. Somehow, he had to fix it. Now that Lance was dead and you weren't in danger, he had to make it right. He had to explain it so at the very least you would understand that you were and had always been his world.

It took him an hour to find you, in which he had rehearsed what he wanted to say. He had to get the words exactly right. He couldn't afford to mess it up any more than he already has. He couldn't afford to destroy your feelings and heart all over again.

Time seemed to freeze as he saw you by the ocean, your back turned to everyone.

Taking deep breaths, he took slow steps towards you, each one having a new kind of purpose. He made sure his shoes crunched on the sand so you wouldn't be caught off guard.

You heard, but you didn't turn around. You didn't need to. You already knew who it was, you knew why he was here, and you knew that he would sit by you. You knew that even though you were in shambles, you two had time to be fixed. After losing everybody, how could you bear to lose someone alive? How could you make yourself grieve for someone who was breathing? How could you ignore one of the only people in your life who was actually in it?

He took a spot beside you. Staring out into the abyss, you allowed the silence to fill between you two as he stared at you, pleading for you to look at him. While you wanted to, you couldn't find it in yourself to actually move. You just sat there, gathering your own jumbled thoughts.

It was enough though. You were both just barely okay to know that you would be strong enough to survive the rest of your lives here, side by side.

“I don't want to know what happened. I don’t want to know why. I just know that you didn't mean your words, and I just want you back,”You whispered.

Taking another breath, he nodded in understanding despite the way you weren't looking at him. While that wasn't what he expected, it was something good. It was one of the only good things actually. Even though he had a feeling you would want to know later, that was all he needed to hear to be quiet now.

When he faced the open sea the way you were, you took his hand, gripping it the way you had the cure. Tightly holding your hand as well, he ran his thumb over your knuckles as you both sat there, trying to figure out what the journey would be from here.

You both didn't know. None of you ever had, and it was likely none of you ever would.

Right now was bittersweet though. It wasn't happy. It wasn't alright.

[amomentsescape]

Slashers x reader with wings. Reader's wings are bound, hidden and look heavily damaged from that.

How do the slashers find out? How do they react?

Add the crow guy, Eric, I think?

Slashers with Winged! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Eric

A/N: I am once again sleep deprived, so I apologize if there are any typos or nonsense that I didn't catch reading through this. Thank you for your request!

Freddy Krueger

As mentioned in many previous posts, you can't really hide anything from Freddy

Whenever you sleep, you're in his territory, and he can do whatever he pleases

And one of the last things he'll ever let you do is hide yourself from him

He could see the damage from all the years of hiding your wings, binding them up in hopes no one would notice

And this honestly pisses him off a bit

Why would you ever want to be like everyone else?

Your wings were beautiful, and they made you that much more special

The moment he sees your wings free, you better believe he'll never let you hide them again

Anyone who even gives you the slightest look will be dealt with that same night

Michael Myers

Another one that you can't really hide anything from

He may let you think that he doesn't know about your wings

But in reality, he's known about them this whole time

However, he won't push you to reveal yourself to him until you're ready

It's not like it's a huge deal to him anyways

He's neutral about the whole situation

Wings or no wings, nothing will sway his opinion on you

Just don't wait too long to talk to him about it though

The more time that passes, the more irritated he'll become

Because after this much time together, you have to fully trust him now

Right?

Jason Voorhees

Jason is pretty much clueless from the start

It's not that he isn't observant to you (he watches you 24/7)

It's just that he fully respects your boundaries and won't even hold your hand unless you tell him he can

So when he accidentally walked in on you one day and saw your damaged wings, he just stands there in shock

He snaps out of it when he notices your bashful and worried face however

He's just so confused on why you would hide this from him

He thinks your wings suit you perfectly

In fact, it makes him feel even more assured that you two are meant for each other

He also grew up wanting to hide a part of himself

But having each other means fully embracing the insecurities of the other

He doesn't ever want you to hide your wings from him again

Thomas Hewitt

He honestly would have never even knew about them if it wasn't for his need for late night affection

He just wanted to cuddle up next to you in the middle of the night

But he was met with something out of place on your back

He couldn't help but peek, and the moment he did, he was stunned

But did he even think about running?

No. He just decided to wait until morning to talk to you about it

When he asked you, he could tell you were uncomfortable

And because of this, he did everything he could to reassure you that he wasn't upset or grossed out by your wings

He loves them!

He took them in his hands gently and carefully removed the bindings

There will be no more hiding from him after that

And he'll happily caress your wings every night until you feel reassured

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba didn't mean to walk in on you like this

But the moment he sees the wings, all decency goes out the door

He stumbles in further, his hands reaching out to them

They're breathtaking... but why are they so damaged?

It physically hurts him to see you in any type of pain, and yet you've been carrying this around with you this whole time?

He's a bit hurt you didn't feel comfortable talking to him about this, but he's even more hurt by the fact that they look painful to you

He doesn't even let you protest before he's breaking the ties and freeing the wings

He's blubbering to you, making you promise to never hurt yourself like this, especially when it's something so cool

He spends the next few days playing with your wings, admiring them like a kid with a new toy

Brahms Heelshire

The day he finds out about your wings is one of betrayal

Brahms refuses to let you keep secrets from him, and hiding such a big thing from him upsets him greatly

How can he trust you?

You’ll need to give him some time to cool down, but once he does, he’ll be on you

Will force you to free your wings so he can play with them

It honestly hurts him a bit to see the destruction brought to them

He empathizes with you a bit

He has also spent a good portion of his life hiding a part of himself

But it’s because of this experience that he refuses to let you do the same any longer

You’re with him now anyways

He’ll never let you leave the house

So there will never be another soul to judge this part of you ever again

Norman Bates

He’s kind of speculated for a bit that you were hiding something

He didn’t know exactly what, he just could feel it in his gut

This insecurity was beginning to eat away at him until the day he finally saw the truth

It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t a bit scared at first

Angels have wings, but so did the devil

But seeing your pained expression reassured Norman that you were far from something evil

Once he let everything soak in, he’ll be all over you asking questions

He wants to know everything about you and your wings

He doesn’t want you to hide them anymore, and he’ll take the time each night to clean them and help heal them from years of damage

These are a part of you, and he loves everything about you

Billy Loomis

Billy doesn't really speculate anything

He's confident that he would be able to tell if you were keeping anything from him

Until the night he sneaks in through your window in hopes of surprising you

But instead, he's the one with the surprise

He sees you looking sadly at yourself through the bathroom mirror, your damaged wings on full display

He spends the next few days going radio silent towards you

But on the fourth day, he storms your room and interrogates you on your wings

Why the hell would you lie to him?

He doesn't care that you have something that makes you "different"

He's simply hurt that you kept it from him

However, it only takes an open conversation for him to calm down

He's still a little pissy but happy to know the truth

Just don't keep anything from him again

Stu Macher

This boy is absolutely clueless

But his unconditional, completely suffocating affection is what finally makes you feel comfortable to open up to him

And when you do, his eyes widen and his jaw drops

You almost think he's going to be upset until he speaks

"That's fucking sick"

Has you unbind them immediately with the promise that you won't keep them hidden away like that anymore

He constantly reassures you that anyone who sees them will have the same reaction as him

There are thousands of people that would kill to have wings like yours

Stu included

So don't ever hide something that literally makes you so unique

He loves them

Vincent Sinclair

You honestly told him about your wings right away

It was after a deep conversation about his own insecurities over his appearance and scars

He showed you his face, and you showed him your wings

It was a raw moment of vulnerability between you two, and all it did was strengthen your bond

After that night, you rarely saw him wear that mask, and he refused to let you tied up your wings like that again

He wants to love the real you

And any part you hide from him is a part of you that he can't love freely

He thinks your wings are beautiful, and you become even more of a inspiration for his art

You are quite literally an angel in his eyes, and he won't ever take advantage of that

Bo Sinclair

He was being flirty and touchy, as Bo does

And the moment he felt your back, he was throwing questions at you left and right

There was no lying or hiding the truth from him any longer

Bo hates secrets

So when you fully reveal yourself to him, he's shocked

He doesn't really know what to say at first

He didn't think something like this was possible

But after finally accepting the reality of the situation, he angrily begins tearing off your bindings

How dare you hurt yourself like this? How could you willingly lie to him after all this time?

He's a good mixture of disbelieving and pissed at you

It'll take a couple days to fully understand the situation

But once he does, it's smooth sailing

Eric Draven

Eric is all-knowing

And he knows that you're keeping something from him

But unlike a lot of the others, he's not upset or angry about it

You'll tell him when you're ready, and he trusts you enough to know it isn't anything terrible

And once you do open up about it, he's in absolute awe

His companion is a crow for goodness sake

To think he was ever going to react in any way other than admiration would have been stupid

He does get a bit emotional seeing your wings all tied up and damaged however

He's gentle with you as he sets them free

To see that pain you put yourself through really upsets him

He doesn't ever want you to do something like that again, especially when he sees this as a true gift

He'll spend the rest of the night cleaning and taking care of them, lulling you to sleep

[pparacxosm]

something borrowed

(dearly beloved part 2: electric boogaloo ! ; tashi duncan x fem!childhood best friend!reader x patrick zweig ((x art donaldson?? a little?)); nonlinear narrative; playing fast and loose with tenses; where do i start; patrick and reader are their own trigger warning; tw pregnancy and childbirth; major major tw for talk of abortion; tw depression and antidepressant talk; cw breeding kink centric smut; more artashi wedding scenes; baby lily !! ; art donaldson #dadding out; grammy donaldson mentioned ! ; tw vomit again i’m so sorry lol; cw more menstrual talk; tw adultery but i mean come on; baby names; lasagna; we all have annie’s reblog to thank ((blame)) for this)

‘ JESUS: Judas—

JUDAS: You forgave Peter and bullshit Thomas—you knocked Paul of Tarsus off a horse—you raised Lazarus from the fuckin’ dead—but me? Me? Your “heart”? . . . What about me??!! What about me, Jesus?! Huh?! You just, you just—I made a mistake! And if that was wrong, then you should have told me! And if a broken heart wasn't sufficient reason to hang, THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME THAT, TOO!

JESUS: Don't you think . . . that if I knew that it would have changed your mind . . . that I would have?

Pause. ’

Stephen Adly Guirgis, ‘The Last Days of Judas Iscariot’

“Is it one of those ugly ones?”

You’re not special; you, too, hate hospitals. Not the least because your parents ralphed up all that cash for med school and you tanked like a castiron anchor. But there’s so much else to feel guilty for. You feel guilty for being alive while people are dying. You feel guilty for wanting to die while people are being born. You feel guilty, and nauseated, by this sickly visceral fume of birth and babyflesh, and the fact that you’re so upset.

You’d marked it on your calendar, is the thing.

March eighth, Doomsday, the purge, the end times.

Tashi Duncan’s Caesarean section.

Timely and clinical, fittingly so. You’d bought a little beanie for the occasion. The beanie is soft and grey and pink. It has a cartoon flower embroidered on the side of it.

But then this is the spawn of Art and Tashi Donaldson. The baby is inherently desperate, and eager, in that order.

It’s February twentyeighth.

It’s probably for the best, you think, while you and Art are on either side of the hospital bed, and he’s grasping Tashi’s hand more tightly than she is holding his, even though she is the one whose innards are being shat out. You don’t believe she could take another scar.

You grimace as she crowns. Art is sobbing and sniffing. He looks at Tashi like he’s getting to watch God populate the world with greenery. It makes your mouth tug sharply to one side, and you close your eyes, briefly, escaping the bright white light.

You watch the papery sheets go redder and redder with every gush from the cavity of her torso.

The baby is not rosy pink so much as she is carmine. Before this, as an idea, she’s existed mostly in black and white. Aminocentesis results on a MacBook screen. The sonogram on their coffee table. The concrete wall of your abject jealousy. The living colour of her, it shocks you more than her glass-shattering screech.

Art holds the baby first, of course, since Tashi is somewhat incapacitated. You soothingly caress her damp hairline.

“What was that like?” you whisper, wincing down at her.

Tashi sheds a few tears and manages a smile that’s part relief and all agony. “Remember…” she croaks, “Remember when Tre fuckin’… like, roundhouse kicked you up the crotch?”

You blink, quirking your brows. Then you snort in surprise, grinning. “Oh my God, yeah,” you giggle. “When Yas and Matteo got that trampoline.”

Tashi nods weakly, her desiccated mouth twitching at the memory, her eyes shivering gently closed.

The baby is tiny against Art’s body, cradled so carefully in his arms. He’s counting all her toes and fingers.

“Hey there,” he murmurs to her, like they’re the only two people on this earth Tashi made. Then he sinks down onto the stool by Tashi’s head, and holds this tiny, beautiful thing out toward her. “Say hi to momma,” he says, his voice soft as gauze.

Tashi reaches out. Her hands are trembling but all of her is trembling; both you and Art tried to get her on the epidural, but fuck if she’s not stubborn. She crooks the tip of her index finger into the fleecy receiving blanket, pulling it down just a little so she can see the baby’s entire pink face.

The baby opens just one bleary eye, only halfway, but it’s enough for her to see you, for you to feel yourself being seen.

Tashi sobs and Art sobs and you wonder, momentarily, if her obstetrician can reach up the cavity of your body, too, and tug out your heart.

So, of course you hate hospitals, and of course you feel guilty. For many reasons. Chief among them being how, the very moment your dear, gutted friend conks out, you’ve stolen to the hall to ring her ex. And he’s asking you, hopeful, if her fucking newborn is one of those ugly ones.

You sigh into the receiver, shaking your head all solemn. You’re sure any passersby think you’re delivering horrific news. “She’s beautiful,” you confess sadly.

“Fuck!” Patrick says forcefully, like he’s just stubbed his toe.

You can hear the hum of the highway on his end of the line, and he’s definitely a bad enough driver that he shouldn’t be calling you right now, because you don’t want to be back here at his bedside when he’s in a fullbody cast after a nearfatal accident—and you would come to visit, actually, if he were in the hospital; maybe that’d just be the guilt again—but this is pretty urgent.

You frown, tucking your hand under your armpit and managing a smile at a passing couple cautiously rolling their precious trolley to the NICU. “They named her Lily.”

Patrick scoffs. “Those fucking assholes.”

“Right?”

You appreciate his company in your deplorable sorrow. There’s a special corner in the firescape for the two of you, but at least it’ll be the two of you.

“That’s a beautiful name for a baby girl,” he says, practically insulted.

You sigh again. “I know,” you pout.

They’d planned the wedding, as they did all other things, a bona fide team. A well oiled unit. Art and Tashi. A&T. Handing off tasks with practiced efficiency, like another one of her hyperintensive drills, wherein he would sooner keel over heaving than drop the ball. The wedding planner was effectively ornamental once they really got into it.

And they really got into it.

Tashi was one of those little girls who stuffed a stream of toilet paper in her ponytail and pictured the vinyl flooring of her home’s warmly lit passage as a ceremonial aisle on the Amalfi Coast at sunset. Here comes the bride, aluminium foil wedding band, ramshackle wildflower bouquet picked from the backyard, et cetera.

Most times, she’d have you play groom.

But you don’t internalise that too much. Because she had you play a lot of things. And sometimes she’d have their senile Mastiff Mutt, Franklin, play groom, too. Really, the most important part was her having you at all.

And, apparently, as a little boy, Art used to page obsessively back and forth through the decrepit scrapbook of his grandparents’ Peoria union, the pictures frayed and hued dandelion. So it’s great that they found each other, and so many dreams were coming true, and everything was fine. Everything was better.

You’d been happy she was happy, really, you had. You hate big endeavours in your name. If she’d married you, you’d have made her elope to Puerto Rico.

And now she was all sprawled three-ring binders, pen behind each ear, Game Face On. And Art was there, talking place settings in full sincerity, so yeah. It’s fine. Better, even.

She let him intercalate all the mawkish, ubercorny bullshit—the Fleetwood Mac, the garter toss, the pictures of his grandmother at the centrepiece of every table. Because they were a team and it was his wedding as much as hers. And you’d told her, too. You’d told her that she’s going to have a mawkish, ubercorny bullshit wedding to a mawkish, ubercorny bullshit guy. But she’d waved you off with a dismissively sentimental smile. I just want to marry him, she’d told you, which had felt like a million and one serrated spurns all over.

A getaway car, really? you’d deadpanned. Then, leaning closer to her phonescreen, eyes narrowing at their shared twodozenpage Pinterest board, incredulous and disgusted, Are the cans really necessary?

Apparently so.

You were standing at the foreshore, toes all grainy, shoes in hand, pistachiorose and Patrick Zweig on your tongue, your ass still seadamp. Art and Tashi pulled up in front of you, cans rattling, like a justmarried Lyft order.

When you climbed into the backseat, they were in the middle of sharing in dulcet laughter over something or the other. Something that did not concern you. Which was fine, and better, and the flower arrangements were spectacular. And, anyway, you’re busy trying not to get sand on this vintage carpet.

“Shouldn’t you two be honeymooning?”

Art looked back at you, his arm outstretched, wrist resting on the bend of the wheel. He gave you this smile you couldn’t discern, which most of his smiles were, and are. He blew a raspberry from his rubicund mouth and tsked.

“What, without you?” he scoffed, wry but playful, and you realised that, though he teased, and wanted you to know as much, his goodnature was sincere.

And your fingers twitched to wrap his seatbelt—because he was wearing the seatbelt—around his rosy throat five or six or seven times and tug hard.

Tashi threw her head back and laughed into the humidity of the night, of their wedding night.

Tashi squirmed in the leather passengerseat of the ivorycoloured 1960 Ford Thunderbird convertible.

You were leaning over in between them from the back, straddling the armrest. And she watched Art turn his head and kiss you. His hand looked huge on the messy, delicate bone of your jaw. It felt cool and clammy, you remember. Tashi sucked in a breath. You two broke apart after a moment, laughing, your palm coming down on his forearm like he’d just made a joke.

“That,” you said, making a puerile face as he absently brushed a thumb over your cheek, “Was too far.”

Your eyes were still shining with tears.

Art nodded, grinning, slipping his hand from your face and running it through his sweaty shoresand hair. “Anything for you, baby, but maybe not that.”

Tashi was flushed and florid and tamping her thighs tighter together and she wanted you both to put your hands on her.

Her arm slunk across the centre console to press her palm into his chest. And she ran her nails along the tender skin of your inner arm. And Art looked back at you like he was asking for permission, which was the first time in a long time he’d done that. And probably the last time since. And you don’t know why you nodded, but you did.

He gave you another strange, cursory kiss on the corner of your mouth, then leaned across the centre console and nipped at Tashi’s earlobe. The whetted burst of pain sent a visible shiver through her bones. She bit her lip and sighed.

“Mrs Donaldson,” he’d murmured, all husky and low. His white buttonup was all sweatrumpled and unfurled. He looked handsome and disheveled like a fallen angel or those illustrations on the covers of erotic paperbacks.

You swallowed, overwhelmed by it all.

You pressed the seam of your lips to the skin where her neck met her shoulder and her lithe fingers encircled your wrist and guided it between her legs.

You and Art are friends—good friends, by now—but sometimes you feel more like business partners. Cofounders of Keeping Tashi Duncan Happy and Okay Inc.

So, when he cannot stomach all the vomit—so, so much fucking vomit—for all his earnest, anguished, tearful trying, he calls you. Because he and his hairtrigger loins can’t help her right now.

And you don’t tease, or berate, or say it should’ve been you.

And he doesn’t protest, or control freak, or remind you it wasn’t you, it was him.

He dips out to stock up on crackers and barley sugar sweets, and you stay with Tashi and stand sentry on emesis duty.

You hadn’t known that any one thing was capable of maiming her this way. Tashi Duncan, your impenetrable infanta. Fast to get up, faster, still, to dry her tears. But this baby is wringing her bone dry. She’s feeble, swollen, and practically debilitated.

You feel her spine shift as she shakes and heaves into the toilet. You hate her like this. At mercy to her bones.

You can’t help the archaic scorn. None of this, none of any of it, would’ve happened, had it been you. But it wasn’t.

You cradle Tashi’s feverish head in the bend of your knee. You thread your knuckles through her sweaty curls. You rub your fingers into her collar, tracing her bones where they have been swallowed by her plummy sallow skin. In college, you used to give each other lymphatic drainage massages.

You’re on Virginia Key Beach with T and her brothers, at the edge of the ocean. You’re, like, fourteen. Tevin’s mouth is a comically fluorescent shade of blue as he topes down a Slurpee. Tre hops over waves. Tre keeps saying the sharks will get you, they’ll smell it, blood in the water, blood in the water and Tevin keeps holding the Slurpee so high that the ultramarine of it obstructs the sun. And Tashi is yelling I’m not even on my fucking period! even though she is red and wet between her thighs, and give it to me, Tev, it’s mine, you took mine! as she reaches and reaches and reaches, unable to grasp what she wants.

There are some women unmoved by such trivialities as their own blood. Eightinch stilettos, eight months in. People will assume Tashi Duncan, pulchritude and powerhouse, to be one of these women.

But you’ll know better.

She’s so good at the tennis, ultimately, because she listens to her blood. She lets it move her. Lets it give her power. She is a mesmerising glass carafe of red.

But when it spills, it pours. When she breaks, she shatters.

Art Donaldson’s child writhes inside her, swills her blood. And you watch.

Patrick takes you home from the hospital. You were planning on sinking into the void of your couch while forking miserably into a whole tray of lasagna by yourself, but you feel bad. You feel guilty and lonely. So you invite him in.

You thunk your stoneware roaster on the granite of your peninsular countertop. He’s sat on a barstool and you’re standing across from him, and he wastes no time tucking in. You nudge at the broiled cheese with your fork.

You’re crying, which he doesn’t mind, but it’s a little distracting while he’s trying to eat, is all. He peers up at you, circumspect, as he chews.

You roll your eyes at him. “Please don’t make me cry alone,” you tell him.

He chews, swallows, licks some pasta from his gums. He rests the fork against the edge of the tray and dusts his hands off.

“I don’t cry,” he says, shrugging like it’s out of his hands. The corner of his mouth quirks up as you fix him with a sullen glare.

“I’ve seen you cry,” you say pointedly, dropping your own silverware.

He shrugs again. “Yeah,” he says, “One time. That was the only time I’ve ever cried. Ever.”

He has this way of saying things like he absolutely means them. This hamfisted sincerity, serrated deadpan. And, when you’re emotional like this, all husked and raw, it’s unfortunately an extremely effective way to make you laugh. His eyes gleam with victory as you duck your head and giggle wetly.

“You feel special?” he smirks.

You roll your eyes again, tears still trickling pools into the tender shadowed skin beneath your eyes. “I feel especially depressed,” you reply thickly.

He flits his eyes back and forth between the both of yours a few times. You’re reminded of the abject tedious torture of sitting through one of Art’s tennis games. “Are you really? Or are you just moping?” he asks you.

You reach into your pocket and pull out your little Effexor prescription vial, rattling it twice, and tossing it his way. It’s a sloppy underhand, but he catches it easily.

“Huh,” he muses, turning it between his fingertips. “That’s why you look so different? I thought you were just putting on sympathy weight.”

Your lips wobble, and your eyes burn and blur again, your throat swelling shut like fucking anaphylactic excoriation, and you catch your face with your hands and cry.

“Don’t be mean right now,” you blubber.

Patrick blinks, sobering with a smart, the humour seeping off his face and replacing itself with an almost comically disturbed frown.

“Okay, okay,” he says, his voice light with a culpable urgency reserved for a triggered, irate straitjacket patient. He reaches over the lasagna, the savoury brume warming his forearms, and he takes your wrists and peels your fingers from your eyes. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

You hiccup breathlessly. Your tears slithering down your cheeks in rills.

“I’m sorry,” says Patrick. He presses his thumbs into your pulsepoints, like he can quash your distress through your radial arteries. “You look hot, okay? Really, you do.”

For his part, he seems genuinely contrite, and utterly concerned, and he probably means it. He is rarely insincere, even when his tongue is in his cheek. But your sulky inner voice says he’s bargaining. How about I quit being an ass and you stop with the ugly crying and I can finish this pasta and hotfoot it out of here? But this is your house. And your pasta. And you think you should get to mourn his exgirlfriend’s womb, if you so choose.

You sob harder, shoulders quavering. His brows raise in quiet alarm when you wrest your arms from his fingers.

You snuffle and swallow. “Please stop,” you moan sadly.

Somewhere between the cake cutting—which walked that revolting, quintessentially Art and Tashi line between sweet and sexy; she daubed some frosting on his nose, he licked it off her finger—and your purloining of a slice or two for your and Patrick’s beachside bitchsesh, the speakers are thumping with ‘I Wanna Be Your Lover’.

Everyone is wasted.

You don’t even mean to, but one of Art’s cousins, who is clearly eking out his fraternity days that have long since started mouldering, keeps ordering you shots from the open bar. And you keep downing them, one after the other. He’s wearing a practically lurid red polo that really errs on the ‘optional’ side of Black Tie Optional, but he has a really charming smile, the light glistering off the white of his teeth as you dance.

And—fuck it—he’s hot. And he’s looking at you like he wants to kiss you in the middle of this dance floor, grinding against you like you’re teenagers at a CYO dance.

The lights are scintillating technicolour and the music is so loud you can feel it in your rib cage and it doesn’t take long for the room to start spinning like the world’s trippiest ferris wheel.

Cody—or Connor, maybe—goes to the bathroom to piss, and you track down the newlyweds on the other side of the room. Tashi’s beautiful eyes, already aglow, light up even more when she sees you.

“Hi, baby!” She kind of has to yell over the music. God, it’s been a while since you’ve seen her let loose like this. Either of them, really. They’re having a great fucking time. The Happy Couple. It makes you feel sick. “You good?”

“I’m fucked up,” you smile blearily, because all of a sudden the room’s spinning has increased in velocity.

You fight the urge to grab for her hand for some fleeting sense of stability. Because, if you do, you’ll tackle her to the ground and kiss her until someone hauls you off.

And her husband’s right there.

“Me too,” says said husband. He is flushed in the face, grinning elatedly, his eyes drunkenly disfocused, Tashi’s glossy, nudepink lip-print on his cheek.

Tashi, as ever, seems appreciably more put-together than Art looks and you feel. All silken and nitid. Art’s holding her with the desperate adoration of someone who knows, in the far far end of his bevvied mind, what you’re thinking right now. You narrow your eyes at him. Then,

“Do you wanna dance?” you ask on a whim.

“Sure,” Art shrugs, a sloppy smile curving on his lips. And by now Tashi’s turned to exchange polite smalltalk with some or other extended family member, so he impishly adds, “Let me ask the missus.”

He and Tashi have a short conversation that you can’t quite hear, and then she’s pulling you in by the wrist to whisper in your ear,

“Don’t let him drink anymore, okay?”

She pecks a kiss onto your cheek before you have time to question this rule, but you know her well enough to know she’s also surreptitiously telling you to slow down. You spitefully nab another shot on your and Art’s way to the dance floor.

Art’s a good dancer. You would certainly not have pegged him as one, if asked. But when he’s twisting and moving his feet and putting his hands on your waist in a halfway facetious impression of a slow dance, you realise it’s true.

“Congratulations, by the way,” you shout when you get close enough to his ear. “Happy for you.”

He winces at your volume, raising his fingers to his ear and laughing and looking at you and shaking his head. “No you’re not.”

Patrick watches you sob for a few more moments before smacking his hand against the counter.

“Let’s make one,” he says, declaratively.

You snivel and sweep some tears away, looking up at him. “What?”

“Let’s make one,” he repeats, more urgently now, “If we make one right now, it’ll show up before the end of the year, and we can still weaponise it. Come on.”

He’s sliding off the stool and reaching across the counter to grab your hand and tow you out of the kitchen.

“Patrick,” you whine in demurral, stumbling after him.

But he pulls you along even harder, making a decisive path toward the hallway. “Come on!” he insists, “I’m serious.”

“You’re broke.”

Which is true. He’s been snipped off from the trust fund, which you’d thought was purely the stuff of Murdochian nightmares. But he whipped out his Chase Mobile app and showed you the negative balance to prove it. He’d rather bum it out than suit up and schmooze. So he’s not spoiled for funds right now, nor is he spoiled for wins, and you aren’t equipped with great confidence in a potential future as his baby mama.

“They’re pissed, they’re not cruel,” he tells you, effectively shoving you into your room and kicking off his shoes. “I’ll be back on the payroll with a kid on the docket, I promise. My mom would love it, actually. My sister just had a hysterectomy, this’ll be like a family miracle. You’ll have the child support of a Kardashian.”

He grabs your head and kisses you sloppily—he tastes like tomatoes—clumsily walking you back into the bed.

You think he’s too old to be fingering you the way he is. Rubbing your clit all clumsy, like a faulty button on an old remote. You’re a little sticky, but not enough for what he plans to do here. He sighs and leans back.

“This isn’t working,” he says, all pensive, sitting back on his heels. It’s a little difficult, though, to take him seriously, when his cock is on the front end of halfmast and still rising.

When Tashi first started seeing him, you remember her barrelling into your room all stiff and saucereyed and clamorous. As though a particularly warhankering pigeon had just been elected president, or an alien society had been discovered in the thick of the Amazon. But no. She held your shoulders and shook them wildly and yelled, I’m telling you, it’s fucking huge!

She made a point to you that she’d never be caught dead gushing about his dick to his face. She said it was important to humble him.

So you want to maintain that tradition.

And, anyway, it’s a big dick, not the cure to cancer. You don’t even know what he needs it all for. It’s probably all he has left. You can’t imagine it even gets him very far.

People have frontiers. Parameters. Limits. To their patience, to their bodies. Patrick used to kill the sprinting drills, back in school. He likes going end to end, reaching those limits. But once you start pissing someone off and/or ramming into their cervix, everything else is probably a nonstarter.

You sit up, drawing your knees to your chest. “Uh, yeah. It isn’t.”

“Well, is there something I can do? Should I act like her? Will that get you going?” He asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer. He huffs and crosses his arms and imitates Tashi’s angry moue.

And his dick is still hard, harder now, so you splutter into laughter. You laugh really, really hard. Then he guides your legs back open and swipes his fingers between them again.

And he grins and says, “Bingo.”

You got really into Pilates for about a month or two mid last year. You’re starting to think you should have kept at it. Your knees are hooked over his shoulders, the undersides of your thighs pressed to his chest. Your hips ache, but it feels, regrettably, really fucking great otherwise.

It’s eminently uncomfortable, sure. For your part, it hasn’t really occurred to you to let a man fuck you raw. Your lingering childishness still recoils a bit at the very idea. And it feels strange, that gauche drag of skin on skin. You’d need to be really wet for this to be working, and that hilarious necessity makes you wetter in response, and then he’s slipping in and out and fucking you raw and he doesn’t even seem to be trying too hard.

He’s a little relieved. You’re letting this happen and taking it like a champ and your pussy’s deep enough to give him room to work.

So he does. Because he knows how. He knows how to work things from here.

He’s had more sex than you’ve attended pilates classes.

The thought of you, splayed and tensile across a reformer, gets him pretty hot. Very hot, actually, and he can tell because the surface of his skin is bloomed pink, and your fingers blench away from his shoulders like he’s caught aflame.

He knows by now how tremendously warm he runs in these moments. He usually asks about a girl’s AC before things get going.

Should he say that aloud, or will it piss you off?

You probably see your appending to the convoluted list of unfortunate holes to sheathe the great penis of Patrick Zweig as a little beneath you.

This is his chance to remind you that Tashi Duncan doesn’t go back on her word for just any heavy pair of balls.

He angles your hips to get deeper, experimenting with ways to evoke a reaction. He’s working you like you’re paying him.

You’re trying really hard not to say anything too nice about his dick. But he’s plunging hard and fast into you, rolling his hips with all the dexterity of fucking Magic Mike, and—well—you wouldn’t be able to, even if you wanted.

The words you’re saying are not in the dictionary. You’re sweating, panting, tugging a little mercilessly at his hair. Patrick bends your legs and hoists your pelvis. He can’t keep a trainer right now, but some adrenalinefueled strength is allowing him to support your body like it’s nothing. He wasn’t bluffing about you looking hot. He’s groping you all over with the ferocious depravity of a necrophile.

There’s some real blasphemous perversion slipping off his tongue. Ersatz porno shit that should be giving you early onset morning sickness, but he’s going all Daniel Day Lewis with it, and you’re kind of buying it.

Fucking come-slut… fuckin’— fuck… gonna breed you… gonna put a baby in you.

You’re audibly wet. The air around you grows practically mephitic. You’re losing your fucking mind. If this shit falls flat, and he can’t get you pregnant tonight, and you dump and block him and never want to speak to him again, he at least hopes you remember this for a long time.

And—you know what—fuck it if that wasn’t memorable enough, he thinks, feeling his cock twitch as he slooshes molten litres into you. Because he’s pulling out, flipping you over, and hiking up your hips. Maybe this’ll be.

He fucks you, he comes in you. A lot. He needs a second to replenish.

You steal to the kitchen. Your inner thighs are chafed and viscid. You cover the lasagna dish and cache it away, and take a second to scoff at some vapidly controversial Twitter thread. You yelp when you feel his arms around you again, lifting you off the tile and carrying you back to the bedroom.

Patrick’s never really thought too hard about his come. It’s an ancillary deluge. A mess to clean most often. Maybe he’s considered meliorating his diet when someone’s gleaned a taste and gagged.

But right now it’s serving a purpose. And he is, among other things, relieved for that, too. He’s not gonna sit around and mourn this while it happens and ask you if you’d really have his child. He’d rather look you in your beautiful, milky pussy than a gift horse in the mouth.

He refuses to waste a drop of himself. He makes sure to coat your insides with it.

He lies sheathed inside you for many minutes after he comes, gripping your hips harshly to him, groaning like this were the real orgasm.

Afterwards, he holds your knees to his chest and lifts your ass and presses his palm to your cunt as if sealing an entrance, making sure nothing escapes. He’s trying to give his guys a fighting chance.

You were, at first—as in, after two or three rounds—a little amused by this stupid, elaborate routine. Something out of an old maid’s pastel mommy blog. You were amused, and frankly weirded out, by what seemed like a laughable lack of dignity on his part.

Now—now you’re feeling aroused by it. Because being aroused disrupts the dumb ritual and kind of annoys him.

When he is holding your knees up and your cunt twitches, he rolls his eyes.

“You already got off,” he chuckles, shaking his head. He sounds a bit spent, too. He’s usually flaked out by now, in his actual customary postcome routine. “Just stay still for a second.”

The fact that he doesn’t want you to come makes you almost desperately want to. He holds his palm over your cunt but he offers no friction.

The simple touch is enough, though. You can find your own internal rhythm.

Your head falls back against the pillow.

“Oh fuck.”

And maybe you’re being particularly loud and lewd in this moment, while he’s trying to be serious, and get something done. Because you’re still doing this longcon in calling his bluff. You don’t think he knows what he wants.

You don’t want to believe that you two are really so bitter as to start a life out of spleen.

You still don’t know if he knows whether or not he actually likes you.

“What the fuck?” he laughs, “I said don’t.” He squeezes your cunt like he wants to tear flesh from bone, trying to render you still again.

But it only makes you moan louder.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so good,” you mewl indecently, smirking a bit, because you’re joking, but you also sort of mean it, “It feels so good having your come inside me, I can already feel your little fuckass kid crawling around in there. He’ll grow up loving bagels, I just know it.”

These taunts are supposed to disgust him or hurt his feelings or simply turn him off, and Patrick does sort of look like wants to throttle you. Because he’s tired and a little grumpy and he knows you’re not letting him stay the night. But a part of him has always found you funny. So he just ends up getting hard again. Your crude, glib moaning brings him to such a pitch of want that he yanks you into his lap and fucks you roughly, gripping your jaw.

And you grin as he brings your head close. You feel it’s some kind of victory.

Even though you’re just prolonging this dumb, bitter, unfulfilling farce. Making sure there’s more of him inside you.

You two should not be parents.

By the eighth or ninth round, he starts getting conversational.

“I was one of those babies that never shut up,” he tells you, fucking up into you in cowgirl. He grunts and makes a thoughtful face. “Colic? Is that what it’s called? Yeah, I think I was a colicky baby.”

You make a face down at him. “I thought you said you’ve never cried,” you pant, rocking your hips back and forth.

He rolls his eyes again.

“Yeah, obviously I was lying. I cry all the fucking time.”

You consider this, your hips stilling, your palms resting against his hairy hotplate chest.

“Over what?” you ask, “Tashi?”

He blinks, scowling a bit, like he thinks you’re making fun. Then his grips your hips and starts to move you on his dick again. He doesn’t answer. Your pussy feels warm and raw.

Geez, how long have you two been at this?

He asks, absently, about baby names.

“I thought every girl had, like, a whole fucking list of them,” he says, pushing his semen back into your used cunt with his long fingers.

You don’t entertain that presumptuous conversation, but you don’t underestimate his commitment, either.

He’s back the next day, and the next, like clocking into a shift. He brings supplies. Sliced pineapple, fresh honey, ground cinnamon, cough syrup, two boxes of ClearBlue.

“I read acupuncture helps too,” he says.

“Absolutely not,” you say, but you let him feed you baby aspirin while you ride him in reverse on your couch watching Selling Sunset.

He feigns disinterest, but keeps tilting to look past your shoulder whenever the arguments start riling up.

“Ugh, Nicole’s a bitch,” he mutters.

Then he grunts and comes inside you, grasping your hips to sink you down and hold you still.

Her name, for the better or worse part of the first and second trimesters, was actually Stella.

Art’s grandma used to love that Philip Sidney poem, and Pam’s favourite film is Streetcar. It’s just that Tashi got sick of the name, and all other things, at a stage. So it didn’t stick.

They were oscillating between Lily and Rooney towards the end, and only made the final call when they saw her.

But, for a while there, she was Stella.

Stella’s craving peanuts, Stella’s the size of a rutabaga, Stella’s a kicker. And, boy, was she.

She’d ram her foetal feet into Tashi’s ribs over and over like she was on a treadmill. Which Tashi was starting to think of as karmic consequence for all the times she’d have Art doing cardio until he fainted.

You crouch down between her knees, resting your head against the amorphous motion of her distended stomach.

“Hey hey, Stella girl,” you whisper, “You wanna stop giving your mom a hard time?”

Tashi chokes out a wounded laugh from above you.

“That’s how Art talks to her.”

“Ugh, don’t ruin it,” you frown, moving to stand up.

But she sticks her leg out to halt you, grabbing your hand and tugging you back down, shifting her hips and spreading her thighs further apart.

You never could resist her sweet face when it was all crumpled up in asking. Because she got all soft and wet, like a flower caught in a gale.

She looks even softer now, over the horizon of her bloated body.

You gently tug her cotton shorts down and put your mouth on her and Stella stills.

“One more,” you say anxiously, eyebrows knitted in concern as Patrick sighs and unboxes a another pregnancy test—the fifth one—and you quaff down another glass of water to get your bladder teeming, because no way.

No way, right?

You’ve been taking him raw at all angles, and swigging shots of cough syrup, and weaning off the antidepressants, but no way.

“I don’t know what you thought was gonna happen,” he calls from beyond the bathroom door as you’re pissing on stick number six.

It’s just that you don’t feel anything.

You think you should be feeling more.

You think of Tashi, writhing and groaning like a bullet victim, miserably clutching her turgid body. You think of newborn Lily, her cottonsoft, tiny eye peeling open and seeing you. Deep steeped coffee, gleaming in the sterile light. Tashi’s eye. Tashi’s hair. Tashi’s baby. That tender absorption, that vivid creation.

If this kid is taking nothing from you, it’s gonna come out all Patrick. And—just—you don’t have the bandwidth to contend with such a prospect right now.

He drives you to the clinic every time. Every single time. One night, you rouse sharply from a morbid dream punctuated by the squall of wailing children. You call him. It’s 2 AM. He answers, and comes over, and drives you to the clinic, and tries not to nod off as you’re filling out the medical paperwork for the dozenth time. He also tries not to express any overt reaction to you changing your mind again.

Is it a kindness, to tease a man with the brutal decimation of his unborn progeny? No, of course not. His mum’s already preemptively enrolled the thing into a fancy German daycare.

But you hate that he’s given you an ultimatum and put it inside you. That’s the worst place, in relation to you, for an ultimatum to be.

If you tell Tashi, either he’s in, or you’re out. And those aren’t really odds you’re keen on rolling.

There are all sorts of ways to be a shitty friend. You opt for evasive gambits via claims of hectic work schedules and immovable errands. Any retching you do is that of guilt. You’re loathe to lie to her, to house this wretched zygote, to stay away. But she used to be able to tell when you’d changed your shampoo. She’d sniff him on you, in you, in a second. She’d just know. And she shouldn’t. She can’t. And if you could just unearth this presentient betrayal and toss it in a petri dish, she doesn’t have to.

You don’t know what matters more.

He drives you to the clinic. Teary teenaged girls, redcapped pickets out front. The receptionist knows you two by name by now.

Patrick slumps beside you. He’s still slogging through the first chapter of Last Child in the Woods. He’s pretty sure he’s never sat and read an actual, physical book to completion before in his life. But he’s too easily abstracted for Audible. So he’s working on it.

You’re groaning frustratedly and thunking the clipboard repeatedly against your skull. He absently slips a hand over your forehead, shielding the next few collisions before you huff and drop the board and turn to face him. He looks at you askance.

“You can change your mind,” he shrugs. Again, he generously omits.

You scoff at him, incredulous and a little irked. “I’m not gonna change my mind,” you grumble.

He shrugs again. “Okay.”

He knows what it’s like to have a mother in sackcloth and ashes. To be less of a son than a sentient thing of regret with little arms and legs. To not know what to do with that, or yourself. He wouldn’t do that to a kid.

You watch him thumb through Richard Louv for a few more moments.

Then, “You’re probably sick of me, aren’t you?”

He smiles a bit before schooling it stoic, slowly lowering the book and fixing you with this wry but incongruously tender look. “Of course I am,” he tells you.

“Get mad at me, then.”

He smiles again.

He knows what that’s like, too. Dad mad at mom. Stilted five course dinner. Dad telling him and Saskia what a goddamn headache mom is on the drive to school. Of course he’s sick of you, he’s always sick of you. But he likes you. And his head feels fine.

He turns back to the book, shrugging.

“Can’t,” he says simply.

You feel for baby Lily. She’ll never be able to get away with anything.

It’s Art who sniffs it on you, in you.

Tashi’s asleep upstairs when, after a fortnight and a bit, you rally up the guts to come over. Art opens the door and looks surprised for mere moments, and there is perhaps a flicker of concern, but then he smiles. And there’s only very mild ire there. The rest is fatigue and goodnature.

“Hello, stranger,” he smirks, turning to filch a set of keys from the marble catchall in the foyer. He is wheeling Lily out in the thirteenhundred dollar stroller he had lost six nights of sleep picking out. “You coming?”

So now you’re on a walk.

Lily lays on her soft belly in the stroller. The walls around her are a breathable mesh, and she fights to hoist her head and gawp at passing trees. This is, apparently, the only way she’ll do tummy time.

“And the only time she gets any sleep,” Art adds, jutting a finger over his shoulder in the general direction of their home down the street.

Lily’s wearing a ruffly lavender romper. Her skin is a healthy shade of linen and her hair is dark. Her fists have tiny moony fingernails that—when you comment how, Her nails are long. Like, sharp—Art explains how he keeps trying to cut them with a pair of tiny silver scissors. But they make Tashi nervous, their sharpness and its proximity to Lily’s fleshy hands.

“She said she wants her to get a grip on the world,” Art chuckles.

You snort, and you have to skip a bit to keep up with his brisk strides. “Oh, that’s definitely what she said,” you confirm.

Lily tosses and turns a bit in the strollerbed. She gurgles an impressive spit bubble, by Art’s standards. Most things she does are probably impressive to him, quite frankly. He tells you how, the other morning, she had thrown up breakfast onto his shoulder with such verve and accuracy that they’re already talking tennis lessons.

“Oh God,” you grimace. Not at the story, but at the memory of his nauseous pallor in the throes of Tashi’s own gravid sickness. “How’s that been for you?”

Art flashes a selfdeprecating simper. “I’m managing.”

When she casts her little coral taglet security blanket curbside, Lily scrunches up her face, grasping, gearing up for the Big Scream. Art sighs and says, “No, please?” as he stops to pick it up and give it back to her, and his arm, when he sticks it in, blooms with little ruddy strings as she claws at him.

He looks more than a little surprised she isn’t crying.

Apparently, in that meantime, you had jutted your fingers into the cot and offered her a pinky as a peace offering. Versailles-style, like you’ll be punished later.

But he seems content with how she’s chewing you and figures you guys can stop here, for a bit, beneath these treemottled springtime sunbeams. In the garden of the home in front of which you’re standing, huge orange bougainvillea loll their petaltongues in the breeze.

“I just…” Art flounders for his words, then scoffs a not unkind, but vaguely embittered, sort of laugh, shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why him?”

You groan. “Don’t ask.”

“How is he?”

“He’s—” you waver, then shake your head, before finishing, “Ugh.”

“Patrick’s ‘ugh’? Patrick? Wow. Should we call all the outlets? I mean, that’s never happened before. Patrick. Ugh. You’re blowing my mind.”

You snort, and Lily laughs, and Art informs you that that is a very hard reaction to glean. And he rubs his temples, because all the wails sort of tremor at that same migrainous pitch. No matter if they’re amused or rabidly apoplectic. But you can enjoy it, the laughter.

“Can you just tell her for me?” you frown helplessly up at him.

That flicker in his tired eyes that wants to agree is purely paternal, but he sighs and shakes his head. “You know I can’t.”

He’s genuinely sympathetic.

“She’ll forgive you,” he tells you. You roll your eyes and hang your head, kicking piteously at the wheel of the stroller. He intercepts your foot with his, lightly shoving it away before bending to search for your gaze. “Hey,” he says, “She really will.”

You huff. “She’s never had to.”

You instinctively press your fingers into your womb, through your shirt. You feel the strange sensation of something starting to swell beneath the flesh.

“You’ll be a good mom,” says Art.

It’s a small relief, for you, to feel your face screw into its shut-the-fuck-up-Art expression. It’s something you know how to feel, a well trodden path. Maybe, once they drop you like a bad habit, he’ll still send you those furtive pictures he likes to take of Tashi sleeping. And you and Patrick can dualmasturbate to them, pretending your swollen belly isn’t in the way.

What you like about them, all three of them, is that they have all always loved you so simply. Tashi is severe, and Patrick is flippant, and Art is occasionally insincere. But they each care about you, to varying degrees, in their own ways. And they do so without reservation, even when you’ve been an ass.

You think that’s how you’re supposed to love your child.

You should probably figure out how he does it in the next five to ten seconds.

You ask, “What makes you say that?”

And his eyes flick down to where Lily is still gumming your knuckle like a dog with a bone, then back up to you, and he gives you one of those smiles. Your face screws. Shut the fuck up Art. Then, he tells you, “You love harder than you give yourself credit for.”

Lily gags around your pinky.

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part 24)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

As Tommy stood there, watching you leave the ceremony, his heart clenched in a way it never had before. He wanted to chase after you, to tell Lizzie that this was a mistake, but he couldn't. The weight of obligation and responsibility kept him anchored to the spot, bound by the promise he had made. 

He had contemplated his options all night long, haunted by the memory of your lips on his and the way your body had felt against his own.

He was restless and as the priest kept on talking, he couldn't even focus on the words anymore. All he could think about was you, his niece - his forbidden love, and the life that they could never have together.

His body was tense, and his mind was absent when the priest as for his vows, Tommy simply looked at him, silently, causing the priest to repeat the question.

"Do you, Thomas Shelby, take Lizzie Stark to be your wife, as long as you both shall live?"

Tommy's gaze lingered on the priest for a long moment, his thoughts racing and conflicting emotions crashing over him. Finally, he swallowed hard and spoke up, in a strong, steady voice.

"Lizzie, I am forever grateful for your love and the life you've brought into mine, but I can't fucking marry you," Tommy said, with a serious look on his face but without an apology.

The entire church fell silent as the words sank in and Lizzie stood there, blinking slowly, her vows falling from her hands.

The look of shock and hurt on Lizzie's face made Tommy's heart beat quickly. Never before had he been so brutally honest about his feelings, but he could no longer deny what was inside of him anymore.

"Tommy?" Lizzie gasped softly, her hand reaching up to her throat in surprise. "What do you mean you can't marry me?" she asked, her words barely above a whisper as her heart raced in her chest.

Tommy shook his head, guilt etched into every line of his face.

"I am sorry Lizzie, but I can't do this. I thought I could, but I can't. There is a woman whom I love, and this woman is not you," he told Lizzie as her eyes filled with tears and she trembled from head to toe but she stood there, silent, unable to gather her thoughts.

The priest looked horrified as he watched the drama unfolding, not knowing what to do next.

Meanwhile, outside the church, you had heard Tommy's words and your heart sank.

You leaned against the cold stone wall, trying to catch your breath. Your heart ached within your chest as you realized that his words were about you.

But even as relief washed over you, guilt quickly followed. You knew that this was impossible, the attraction between you and Tommy - a love and desire that went beyond accepted norms, meaning this could never be.

"It's this fucking whore, isn't it?" you heard Lizzie scream through the thick walls of the church as her voice trembled with anger. "Your own fucking n...," she began to say but was immediately cut off by Polly who had rushed toward the couple on the alter the moment she had heard Lizzie's outburst.

"Now is not the time, nor the place, Lizzie," Polly said sternly, shielding Tommy from the wrath of his jilted bride as she was about to expose his secret affair with you.

The church remained silent, save for the heavy breathing of those present and distant whispers filling the air.

The shame burning on Lizzie's face was unbearable, and she lowered her eyes in defeat. Though her pride had been severely wounded, she wasn't naïve. She knew whom Tommy loved. But hearing him reject her in front of all these people was something she hadn't expected.

"Let's go and have a drink to calm your nerves and then we will talk about what happened," Polly said reassuringly, leading Lizzie away from the altar, and toward the exit.

Outside the church, you remained leaning against the wall, your thoughts swirling. You wondered what Tommy's next move would be and when he would come for you and when Lizzie saw you, calmly smoking a cigarette , she strode towards you, her eyes blazing with fury.

"You are the reason for this," Lizzie accused you, causing your heart to race within your chest. "The whole world thinks that I am a laughing stock now, but let me assure you, I will make your life even more miserable than you made mine you fucking whore," Lizzie told you while you remained silent, unwilling to confirm or deny her accusations.

"Lizzie, time and place! Let's go!" Polly interrupted, quickly leading Lizzie away from you and towards her Bentley. 

You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched them leave.

The tension was thick in the air, and you could feel every eye on you. The whispers grew louder, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of shame creeping up your neck.

You quickly dropped your cigarette onto the gravel and crushed it beneath your heel, before straightening your shoulders as you finally saw Tommy, walking towards you alongside your father.

"Now that was a fucking disaster," your father said  with a whistle, but you didn't find the situation funny in the least. "Let's get pissed, eh? And forget that this ever happened, shall we?" he then suggested, causing his wife Linda to shake her head.

"No Arthur, let's get home," she told him sternly while you turned to Tommy, searching his deep blue eyes for answers, but all you could find were reflections of your own guilt.

Being in the presence of your father, you knew that he couldn't say anything, and neither could you.  The tension between you and Tommy was palpable, the moments stretching on as you both took each other in.

You couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. Was he feeling regret and remorse for not being able to go through with the marriage? Or was he glad to be free of his loveless relationship right now?

Arthur's eyes darted between his brother and you, sensing the tension but unsure of its actual cause. You could feel yourself growing more anxious by the second, your heart hammering within your chest and, as Linda demanded for your father to leave with her, you were glad to finally have  a chance to speak your mind.

"I'm sorry, Tommy. I should never have come here," you murmured softly, your eyes brimming with unshed tears as you tried to communicate all the emotions that were coursing through your veins in a single silent look. 

Tommy looked at you for a long moment, his blue eyes searching yours for any hint of regret or resistance.

"No," he finally said, clearing his throat. "I am glad you did, because you made me realise something that I have forgotten ever since I returned from France," he added, his voice stronger and more assured than you had ever heard it before. "None of this matters. This business. Money. Fucking nothing matters ," Tommy muttered, his voice low and passionate. "Fuck parliament and fuck this deal. Let's just fucking leave, eh? Just you, me and our son," he continued to say, all of his previous restraint thrown to the wind.

You stared at him, your heart fluttering wildly with shock. His words lingered in the air between you like a promise of something new and unexplored. The thought of leaving everything behind, of starting anew, was terrifying and you quickly quietened him down.

"Sshh , not here," you murmured, taking in a deep breath to steady your racing heart.

The last thing you wanted was for the rest of your family to hear his words and realize what he had just confessed to you. This desire, this forbidden love, could never see the light of day.

In another time and place, perhaps it could have grown into a beautiful reality, but not within the narrow-minded constraints of 1920's England.

"If I know one thing Thomas Shelby, it is that you could never live a life away from fucking Birmingham. You crave this. You crave the power and the thrill of it all. After France, this is exactly what you needed. Your mind needs to be occupied, and you are good at it. You are exactly where you belong and I know that you will never be able to live a quiet life with me, away from family, without losing part of yourself,"  you continued, with a sad smile.

Tommy stared back at you, unable to deny the truth in your words. His whole life had been dedicated to this life, and he knew that nothing else would truly satisfy the deep-seated desire for power and control. It was an addiction of sorts, one that he couldn't simply shake off even if he wanted to.

With that, he nodded in defeat before, without many more words, leading you to his Bently just as the last of the guests came walking out of the church with a look of disappointment on their faces.

"This is not the way back to Arrow House," you noticed as Tommy started driving, leaving the whispers of the guests far behind.

"No, it is not. I need to go somewhere else. Somewhere where I can think," he told you finally, after minutes of silence, before taking a left turn to a place you had not been before.

As the Bentley took the final bend in the country road, your breath caught in your throat. The landscape was bathed in the golden glow of sunlight breaking through the clouds; its rays illuminated a sprawling green hill and a small Gypsie wagon.

"What is this place?" you asked him, eyes widening to take in the sight before you that tugged at your heartstrings more than any erotic encounter ever had. This place seemed magical and romantic; two things you thought were impossible with Tommy Shelby.

"This is where I come when I want to be alone," he said, pulling to a stop just short of where the wagon stood.

"But you are not alone. I am right here with you,"  you said gently, reaching over to rest your hand on top of his.

Your voice was soft but it carried a strength that echoed within him; it brought comfort beyond anything he had ever experienced before.

Tommy parked the car and led the way up the hill. At the top, as your breath caught in your chest once more, this time at the beauty all around you, he paused, watching you take in your surroundings before he began to speak.

" This place belonged to my mother. When she died, the land and the wagon were given to my uncle. I spent a lot of time here growing up, and it's still where I come whenever I need to think," Tommy revealed, the words slipping out as easily as if he had been telling you about his day instead of something far more deeply personal.

A haunted look lingered in his eyes, and for a moment, you could almost see the boy who mourned the loss of his mother and sought solace in a wagon tucked away on a high hill.

"Do you want to tell me what it is that you are thinking about?" you asked Tommy, as you both stared off into the distance.

Your hand remained on top of his and your thumb absentmindedly traced circles across the back of it as you watched a little bird fly past, soaring effortlessly through the air before disappearing from view.

Tommy turned his head towards you, blue eyes meeting yours before he glanced down at your hand and slowly lifted it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against it.

"I am thinking about how to make this work," he replied softly, watching as the breeze stirred loose tendrils of your hair around your face.

His voice was calm, but you could sense the urgency in his words, a silent plea for you both to find a way.

"You know you can't just leave everything behind and run off with me and we cannot be together otherwise. Not with your family knowing," you said gently, your heart heavy with the reality of their situation.

You couldn't pretend that things could be any different, no matter how much you longed for them to be.

Tommy nodded slowly before turning to look out across the fields once again.

He released a long, slow sigh before finally speaking.

"I know, but I will come up with a plan to make this fucking work, eh," he started, a determined look glinted in his eye as, suddenly, he heard a voice speak up behind the two of you.

"It better be as good as my plan," your aunt Polly said, startling you both, even causing Tommy to draw his gun.

Polly raised an eyebrow with some amusement as she calmly stepped forward while Tommy put his weapon away, back into the holster beneath his suit jacket.  

"How did you know how to find us?" Tommy asked , surprise and concern in his voice.

"I have eyes everywhere," Polly replied, with a quiet chuckle. "I knew about your mother's wagon for years and the peace it brought you when the world felt out of control, especially when you came back from France" she said as she took a seat on a patch of grass next to you.

"Now listen, I have spoken to Lizzie and she agreed to keep your little secret safe so long as you provide generously for her and Ruby, the monies for which, I may add, will not come out of the company's account," Polly said sternly as she stared at Tommy, waiting for his reply.

Tommy's eyes narrowed in thought before he finally nodded, understanding the weight of the situation.

"Of course," Tommy replied simply.

Polly looked at him for a long moment before she finally spoke up once more.

"Now, as far as your relationship with each other is concerned, I suggest that Y/N and your son remain with you at Arrow House for their own protection," Polly continued in a business-like manner. 

"Protection from what?" you asked , your brow furrowed in confusion as you looked from your aunt to Tommy.

"Protection from the men who burned down the Midland Hotel," Polly explained, causing Tommy to furrow his eyebrows as well.

"These men have been dealt with, Pol," Tommy explained, causing his aunt to smile.

"I know, but Arthur, John and the rest of our men don't know that, which ultimately gives Y/N and her son a reason to stay with you for now,"  Polly said, glancing at you before she finally continued. "It is the perfect disguise for you to continue this rather inappropriate relationship with one another without anybody finding out about it," Polly then chuckled , causing you to blush slightly while Tommy frowned at his aunt's playful jab and whilst she did not exactly approved of what you were doing with each other, she knew that, without you, Tommy had been miserable, leading him to make bad and dangerous business decisions.

Tags:

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@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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[m30wk1ttycat]

"i love you," he'd say, awaiting some sort of a response. he'd appreciate anything, as long as it was from you. but no, all he'd get from you was a small smile, and a kiss on the cheek. you could never truly bring yourself to tell him that you loved him. you knew you did, but you never had the courage to admit it. now he's infected with the flare. he didn't tell you - how could he, when you were taken by wckd, along with the other immunes, and were just rescued after six months of absolute torture? to say it was a shock when you, brenda, and jorge helped them when they were about to get ripped to shreds by cranks was an understatement. hands bandaged and healing, you still managed to shoot down way more cranks than you should've been able to. observing your surroundings in the last city, you noticed newt rubbing his wrist as if he was in pain. when you'd question it, he'd just say he got a nasty scrape. when you'd ask if you could see it, he'd say that it was okay, and that the wound was cleaned. not once did it cross your mind that he was infected. not even when he yelled at thomas after discussing your plans. you only found out about it when you and newt were cuddling and you saw the small, but dark veins on his hand. the fingerless gloves doing little to hide it. however, you didn't question it. he wouldn't tell you, anyways. it wasn't that he didn't trust you - no, of course not. he just hated seeing you worried. oh, and worried you were, seeing newt struggle against the virus. and to think you couldn't tell him that you loved him broke you. when you did say it, you were half sure he wasn't even conscious. even if he was, it wouldn't be the same newt that you'd be saying it to. it wouldn't be the newt who'd do anything he could to keep you out of trouble in the glade. it wouldn't be the newt who'd sneak off with you during the bonfires so you could watch the stars and name them, while he played with your hair, and you laid on his chest. it wouldn't be the newt who'd always bring you random flowers from the gardens, just so he could see your sweet smile. no, this was the newt who could barely focus, the newt who was progressively getting worse. it was hard, having to watch the boy you still love fight, when he knows he can't. there wasn't a cure. if there was, it'd still be worthless, since he was now laying in your arms, his eyes glassy, and his breaths shaky, a knife through his chest. you couldn't save him - no one could -, as much as you wanted to. "i'm sorry," you sob, newt interrupting you with a "don't be" just like he always did when you apologized for things he found silly. only that now, he didn't even know why you were sorry. his hand reached up to grasp on your hair gently, moving it behind your ear. "i.. love you, y/n," he murmured, coughing when he tried to laugh. "i love you, too, newt," you whispered, "more than anything." "..i love you more, though." i fucking cried while writing this, but u're welcome.

[slut4celebs]

Reneé's Nepo Baby

Reneé Rapp x Reader

Word Count: 1,016 words

Trigger Warnings: I don't think there are any...

Request/Synopsis: "reader has famous parents and acted since she was a child and Renee always had a major celebrity crush on reader? And then one of Renee’s famous friends just casually brings reader with them for a night out" - In which Reneé Rapp's childhood crush ends up at the same party as she is and she suddenly doesn't know how to act.

Please request here. < Pleaseeee, with a cherry on top. I'm desperate for requests.

Reneé gripped onto Alyah as music played loudly on the speakers. The DJ tonight might have been the best DJ Reneé had ever heard, but then again the underground clubs always tended to gatekeep all of the good music. The two of them laughed, their bodies pressed together as others danced around them. The air smelt of sweat and alcohol, or maybe that was just them. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion when Gavin Leatherwood, their fellow co-star walked in. The two of them gave him quick embraces when someone approaches, handing him a drink and smiling over to Reneé and Alyah, who both forget how to breathe. It was an instant fangirl moment for the both of them.

There was no way in hell Gavin Leatherwood brought (Y/n) (L/n), the daughter of an eight-time Grammy winning music artist and a three-time Oscar winning actress. She might be a nepotism baby, but she was a star on the screen. She grew up with Reneé. In fact, it was her face that hung on her wall and was her middle school wallpaper back when all middle schoolers had their celebrity crushes as their screensavers. Now, here she was, standing in front of Reneé, as if they had always been friends. Which, in all honesty, would have been a dream for (Y/n).

Gavin had to have done this on purpose. After all, she was always finding a way to bring (Y/n) up in pretty much every conversation she had with her friends. In fact, there were multiple interviews where Reneé confessed to having the biggest celebrity crush on her. And, now, here she was. Gavin hadn't even let Reneé know they were friends. How could he allow Reneé to talk about her non-stop without divulging important information like this? She was in shock, quite frankly. She knew many of his other famous friends like Ross Lynch and Kiernan Shipka… It suddenly made sense. That's who had to have introduced them in the first place, Reneé decided in her overthinking over the whole situation.

She blinked a bit when Alyah elbowed her gently. She looked around to see everyone's eyes staring curiously at her. It was obvious she had missed out on a question of some sort by their gazes. Smiling a bit, she cleared her throat. She was thankful that the alcohol made her cheeks red and successfully hid her cheeks from the views of her friends and (Y/n). "Sorry, I think I missed it. What was the conversation about?" Reneé questioned, hoping that someone would fill her in on what was happening. She was silently cursing herself for having experienced an embarrassing moment like this in front of her.

"No problem," (Y/n) spoke up. Reneé could have died, realizing it was (Y/n) who had asked her the question she did not respond to. However, she kept her cool to the best of her ability. She couldn't freak out. She was doing so well. "I was saying that I really enjoyed your Snow Angel album. I'm a really big fan of your work. After discovering that album, I went down, like, a rabbit-hole of your work. Bruises? That's my life story."

Reneé grinned widely, straightening up. Though, she couldn't help but laugh, causing everyone to eye her a bit weird. "Sorry, sorry, it's just… I wrote that song because the first time I slept with a girl, I did it on my friend, Thomas's, couch. I thought it was gonna be like this cool thing we bonded over, but then everyone said it wasn't like a cool moment. Anyways…" She realized she had been rambling, biting her lip. She realized she's not making the best impression, right now. Maybe because she was overthinking it all when all she wanted was for this to be perfect.

(Y/n) smiled a bit at Reneé's story. "Hey… Do you want to dance?" (Y/n) questioned, surprising the group. Gavin glanced at Reneé giving her two thumbs up. The whole reason he brought (Y/n) was to surprise her. Alyah shook her head with a smile because leave it to Reneé to charm a girl by telling a really embarrassing story about fucking some girl on her friend's couch. "This is my favorite song, and I am not going to waste it by dancing with Gavin. I'd rather dance with a pretty girl instead." She said after it took Reneé a little too long to answer. Though, in her defense, she was thoroughly starstruck that (Y/n) would even want to dance with her.

She nodded excitedly and the two of them hit the dance floor. Alyah looked over to Gavin with a large grin on her face. "I can't believe you never told us you were friends with (Y/n) (L/n). You had to know this was like… Reneé's dream, right? That's like her token nepo baby. We all have one." She said with her hands up in playful surrender. The phrasing made Gavin laugh and shake his head. But Alyah wasn't wrong. He smile proudly out in the proud as Reneé danced with her nepo baby celebrity crush, whom she could never shut up about on set when any content was released about her. It was hard work to keep it a secret, but he was waiting for the moment that (Y/n) had a free schedule to introduce them. He knew that they would hit it off.

"If I told her then, she would be too nervous to meet her… Though, me surprising her didn't make it any better, huh?" He said with a grin, watching (Y/n) and Reneé dance together as if they could predict each other's next moves. He smirked a bit, looking at Alyah, who was still impressed by what he had just done. "Am I like the most amazing matchmaker on set or what?"

Alyah couldn't help but roll her eyes at his cockiness, laughing a bit. "It wasn't hard to do when Reneé already gave you the blueprints of her crush and everything she liked about her. But… Good job following directions." She said, patting his shoulder.

[yakii-m0chi]

Inazuma Men as Fathers

decided to write a part two just because i felt like it! might go thru all the regions and characters so far!

pairings: thoma x reader, heizou x reader, kamisato ayato x reader, kazuha x reader, gorou x reader, itto x reader (gn! reader)

warnings/disclaimers: im so sorry if u have allergies to pets/don't like the animal i chose! i just thought it'd match the characters well | heizou names your pet (ish?) | slight angst warning (kazuha)

🍭 thoma

thoma was walking around town, helping out here and there as he went about his day

on his way back to the kamisato estate, he saw you with a stray dog, playing around together

he thought he was seeing floating hearts when he heard your laughter and baby talk when the dog flopped over

thoma was convinced then and there that you had to have that dog

when he made dinner, he wanted to ask you about it without being too suspicious

how was your day, sunshine? did you do anything fun today?

i did! there was this cute dog, and i swear it was the most adorable and serotonin-filled thing in the entire world! i'm going to go buy some food and spend the whole day with him tomorrow

how fun! i'm sure that you made that puppy's day.

and soon, he was going to make your day

two days later, thoma was outside your room, the stray dog in hand

he had spent the entire night cleaning him, feeding him, and trimming its mangled fur and claws. it wasn't perfect by his standards, but his skill could be mistaken for a professional

when you opened the door, you couldn't help but squeal out of pure joy and shock as you held the puppy in your hands

thoma! how did you know?!

i saw you two a few days ago, and since you seemed infatuated with the little guy, i thought we should have him as a pet. what do you think?

i love that! thank you thoma, i love you so much!

bby was blushing so bad T-T

he'd buy you a hundred dogs at that point, just to see your reaction again and again

he knew that he would be taking care of the dog as well, but he had 0 problems in doing so. thoma was good with people and animals

somedays when you were busy with work or commissions, thoma would take the dog around town to keep him company

it's like two golden retrievers were running around town now - thoma and the doggo

everyone came to know your puppy, and they always stopped to feed him something delicious or give him some head scratches

ayato and ayaka both loved your dog too!

thoma had hand-knit an entire closet of clothing for your dog. he had mittens, hats, scarves, pants, shirts, costumes - everything. hell, thoma had even given him cute shoes too so his paws wouldn't get dirty or cold

10/10 househusband and dog dad

at some point, he had attached an omori to your dog's collar, which thoma had always joked that whenever your dog was around, good luck and fortune always came with him

oddly enough, every time you went to the shrine with your dog in tow, your fortune slips would always turn out to be very fortunate

🔍 shikanoin heizou

he was a detective, there was no way he'd get a pet with how busy and active his job was

... until he saw you with a cute little cat

it was game over at that point

he caved and ended up getting you a collar to give to the cat

but he made it clear that it was your responsibility to take care of it since he was always busy and didn't have time to care for a cat on top of the other cases he had going on

but, one day, you were really busy with something and didn't have time to take care of your cat

on his way out from your shared home, he heard your cat meowing for attention, looking at heizou expectantly

the boy caved (x2) and took your cat with him to his office, where it got cozy on his windowsill

he had to admit, watching the cat loaf while sleeping in the sunlight was oddly adorable

life got busier for you, so he ended up making it a routine to bring your cat to his office, and you'd meet him there when you finally got off work

at some point, he replaced the curtains in his office with blinds that he'd open when your cat would sit on the windowsill so he could look out at the people who passed by

he also gave your cat a nickname that stuck: watson

honey? where's the cat?

watson's alseep by the window.

'watson'?

he's not just 'cat' now. he's watson

one time when your cat did something especially naughty, heizou made wanted posters of your cat and hung them around the tenryou commission's offices

it was because he had knocked over heizou's juice and it spilled on his paper, then in its shock at the loud noise, the cat had jumped off and accidentally smashed the mug too

as of today, your cat has a 40,000 mora reward on the poster

💧 kamisato ayato

do you really expect kamisato ayato of all people to have the time to take care of your new pet?

... yes. yes he would.

you are so lucky this man is absolutely whipped for you, but you better choose a pet that's easy and lower maintenance

so what did you choose?

a fish.

no, you're not dyslexic, dear reader (unless you are, then my bad). you brought him a little fish.

thoma and you were fishing, and you had caught a small little fish that looked too cute to let go

luckily, thoma had brought along a small container which was big enough for the fish until he went out into town and got you an actual fishbowl for it

so, you excitedly brought it to ayato, who had... a very clear stance on this animal

love... is... this what you were excited to show me?

yeah! look, isn't it cute?

... i don't think 'cute' would be the word i would use to describe it. do you even have a way to sustain that thing so it lives?

i was going to raise it in this tank until i can move it to the pond outside

...

yeah... he wasn't super impressed at first

but it seemed to keep you, ayaka, and thoma entertained, so it was a plus since he had more time to work without being interrupted

you had placed it strategically in a spot where ayato would have to see it before he would move along with his day

eventually, something in him wanted to try his hand at feeding it but he wasn't sure if you had already done so

so he asked you over dinner

darling?

yes, ayato?

... how often do you feed your... fish?

[feeding schedule]. why?

ah, i see. i can feed your fish in the evening. that way you don't have to hurry back.

you will?!

i suppose i can spare a minute or two for it.

when the time came to move your fish into the pond, he did kind of miss having the fish conveniently nearby

more or less, kamisato ayato became fond of your little fish friend

🍁 kaedahara kazuha

pets?! boy sign this man up

we all know he is such a sweet and soft boy

there's no way he'd turn you down

so when you came back with a white cat, you best believe he was gonna take care of it with you to the best of his abilities

also... the cat unironically reminded him of his friend :(

you best believe that both you and your cat will get absolute royalty treatment

in fact, he has a surprise for you about a year in

my love?

yes darling?

your cat was clinging onto your arm, seemingly lazing around

i have something to surprise you with.

oh really? what is it?

here.

IT WAS ANOTHER CATTTTT!!! ANOTHER BABY CAT!!!

kazuha?! another cat?

i figured that our little one would get bored so... i found it a friend.

bless this man's heart- he's such a sweetheart

now you have two cats - a boy and a girl

he did his very best and was able to bond the two of them within a few weeks

now you both had two cats to go with you on your travels around teyvat

they were so easy to travel with, and they were extremely calm

probably because they knew that their papa would always protecc them :)

a lot of times, kazuha could be found napping with the small furballs on a sunny rock in the afternoon

oh my GODDDD kazuha and your cats are absolutely the cutest

HE ALSO GIVES THEM LEAF HATS. YOU CANNOT TELL ME HE DOESN'T BECAUSE HE TOTALLY WOULD.

🐾 gorou

the most timid of the bunch

he'd probably get nervous no matter what pet you give him

bro probably goes through 100+ books a day to try and learn everything he can about the animals so he can provide the most optimal care for it

it was a dog.

and yet here gorou was, stressing over it

Y/N? do you think this is enough dog food for her?

yes, gorou, why are you so worried?

w-well... this book said we need 5 servings, but then the other one said 2 servings...

so how many did you give her?

... 3 and a half servings?

that's fine then, gorou. it's not like we can't feed her more.

yeah...

he's a general, of course he'd be worried over your lil furbaby :(

this poor man already has a ton on his plate, but he wants to make sure that your pup is well-fed

since gorou is a dog, your dog got along really well with him

she actually licks him a lot to try and groom him, especially his tail and ears

this poor man... he now takes extra good care of his hair and tail when he showers and cleans himself because he doesn't want your dog to get sick

he also got your pup a small set of armor so he felt a little more at ease

your pup was becoming more and more of a guard dog every single day hehe

one time you came home to your dog and him cuddling in bed together, and it was super CUTE because of the fact that both of their tails were moving in sync

he does get less stressed over time, but he still gets worried about your dog at times

please reassure him that your dog will be okay and won't die from a gust of wind. please.

🪲 Aratakki Numero-Uno Itto

you see your pet?

that ain't your pet no more.

that's the GANG's pet

poor shinobu LOL i just KNOW she's gonna be stressed more

you and shinobu are the only two sensible people in the aratakki gang

one day when you were exploring, you saw a small weasel who got captured by some treasure hoarders

it was malnourished and super sickly looking, and you immediately brought it home

but when you were cleaning it and making sure it was bandaged, itto bursted in

hellooooooooo baby beetle!!!!

shh! itto!

huh? what's wrong? something the matter?

itto walked over to where you were, seeing you in the bathroom taking care of the small weasel

huh? what is that furry slinky-noodle thing?

it's a weasel, i found him inside a cage.

oh... poor little dude.

itto gently patted the weasel on the head.

don't worry little guy, you're in good hands with my baby beetle. they'll take good care of you.

yeah... there's a reason why he said that your weasel would be safe with you and not with him

he liked to take the weasel out with him and the gang, and sometimes it overstimulated the poor thing to the point where it seemed to go limp from exhaustion

you and shinobu usually had to take the weasel away from itto and his gang and scold them

at some point (1 year of having your weasel), itto had finally understood when the weasel would get tired, so he'd sometimes just leave the weasel entirely with you before going out with his friends

although, whenever he was at home, your weasel enjoyed hanging around him since it wasn't too overwhelming and the little dude could hide whenever he's too tired

itto is a great dad and super attentive, but sometimes he needs to know when enough's enough :)