#I JUST REALIZED I FORGOT TOMS EYEBROWS

[edducard]

You oversaturate your world with nothing but machines You might make everyone happy but you're dead inside, just like me

This is lowkey a tomtord song (shippy or not but u know me lmao) and makes me draw in bright eye bleeding colors a hoo hoo hoo

Motion blur and non-motion blur, along with sketch under the cut for those curious!

[cinnamostar]

four dates to fall in love

part one. part two. part three. part four (here). part five. part six coming soon.

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 2.7k

cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn , not proofread, blood/knife ments (no injury, theyre just cooking lol), emotional vulnerability

a/n : welcome to part four. the slow burn is absolutely slowburning. things are happening. i dont have much to say other than it being hard for me to write, but pls let me know what you think!!!!!! likes and reblogs appreciated!

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“It went well?” Chan exclaimed in shock over your speakerphone.

You hum in agreement, confusion in the forefront of your mind, “Surprisingly, it went better than I could have ever imagined,” a sigh escapes you, “I don’t know, it’s weird.”

“Well, the fact he even apologized caught me off guard in the first place.”

You laugh lightly, “Oh, trust me, I still am having a hard time believing it. It’s been so long of him being an asshole to me, so seeing him like this was… very different. A little scary, if I’m being honest.”

“Yet it still went well even though it was kinda weird?”

“I mean, it was really awkward at the start which was annoying, but I can’t blame him. He genuinely did look like he felt bad, so it probably was hard to be in his position,” you think aloud, “But it was getting too much and he was putting a damper on the mood, so I tried to make him more comfortable, which worked. Then we started talking, and I don’t really know how to say it, but it felt… really nice? It made me realize that maybe I did miss our friendship.”

“Well, you guys did get along really well before everything happened. To be honest, I thought there was something more going on before then,” Chan recalls, “Though, his sudden change made me realize I was way off.”

Your eyebrows furrow at Chan’s comment, “Something more? Like romantic?”

He chuckles from the other end of the line, “Yeah, I thought something was going on between you two. You guys just seemed to click really well, better than any other costar you’ve had in the past, even to this day. Lowkey thought it was going to be a Tom Holland and Zendaya moment.”

“Jesus,” you mutter, “Definitely not that, I never thought of him that way.”

“You say that, but I remember the heart eyes you used to look at him with,” he teases.

“Oh, shut up. I did not. Besides, that’s not what’s important in the present time!”

He rolls his eyes, even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel it in his tone, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re right though, it is a difficult situation for both of you to be in. Other than it being uncomfortable, how are you feeling about it?”

You let out a heavy sigh, “I mean, part of me is happy to be able to have a normal relationship with him, but… I’m still really mad at him for how he treated me. I don’t think it’s something I can let go of yet.”

“That’s okay. You have time to process all of that, no one is rushing you.”

“I know, but for a moment yesterday, I kinda forgot about all that. I had fun with him, and I want to keep having fun, but then I remember everything and feel so… upset that I am even letting him back into my life, even if it's for a bit.”

“Huh…” Chan muddles over your words for a moment, “That is quite the dilemma. I think you have every right to be upset at him, but I also think it’s okay if you miss your friend. I just think you have to figure out what kind of boundaries you want to set for yourself then. I think you can still have a nice time with him without him earning your forgiveness just yet. He can be a surface level friend or acquaintance until he proves himself trustworthy again.”

“You’re right, but I just didn’t like how easily it slipped my mind. Part of me feels like I should still be more on guard and not as friendly, but he makes that hard too.”

“Y/N, it’ll be okay,” he reassures, “You’ll figure it out, but it’s perfectly fine for you to have fun, while still having boundaries, okay?”

You sigh, still a bit unconvinced by his words, “I guess…”

“I know it’s hard, I can’t imagine what it's like to be in your position, but I promise it will be okay.”

“I’ll believe you just this once!”

“You say that every time, but sure, just this once. Call you tomorrow, alright?”

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It was the next evening, and you were anxiously waiting in your apartment for Hyunjin to arrive. You weren’t sure how today was going to go, and the idea Changbin had for you both today made you nervous, as it felt as a far more intimate setting than the previous dates. Although, you couldn’t entirely argue with his logic. Today, he suggested that you both cooked a simple dinner with each other, the idea being that it would help you both learn how to work together towards a common goal, which was dinner in this case.

Despite you being able to understand the logic behind his idea, it was incredibly intimidating to think about having Hyunjin in your own home, especially considering the sudden change in dynamic in your relationship. Even then, you didn’t just let anyone into your home, as you only ever had your closest friends come over for small hang outs, so this was far outside of your comfort zone, but perhaps that was a good thing. Maybe going out of your comfort zone with Hyunjin would only help you both succeed the next time you found yourselves on set, and perhaps something as intimate as cooking together would help you both ease into your roles.

A knock on the door wakes you from your thoughts, prompting you to shuffle hurriedly towards the door to open it for none other than Hyunjin. He greets you with a gentle smile, bowing his head slightly as you let him in wordlessly. There is an awkwardness that hangs in the atmosphere, indicating that you both were uncomfortable with today’s plans and he, too, was likely struggling to find the right words to say.

You take a deep breath in, almost as if you were catching your breath, “Welcome to my place!” You cringe internally at yourself, unable to handle the intensity of the awkwardness between you two and how poor your attempt was to disperse it.

“It’s really nice!” he compliments, standing in place by the entrance after removing his shoes.

“Thank you,” you respond, “Uhm, just follow me, the kitchen is this way. And all the ingredients are ready for us to use, Changbin had them delivered.”

Hyunjin follows you into the kitchen, his eyes taking in every detail around him, filling him with delight to see how characteristic of you the apartment was, it being a perfect representation of your personality. “What are we making again? I don’t think Changbin filled me in.”

“Oh, we’re just making curry udon! It’s something I’ve made before and it’s not too hard. My bad, I didn’t tell Changbin what we were making which is probably why he didn’t tell you. All I did was send him an ingredient list.”

“I forgot you like cooking,” he replies as he stops in your kitchen, quickly turning to the sink to wash his hands.

You hum in response, washing your hands after him, “I think it can be relaxing, but uh, if you want you can start with chopping the carrots and potatoes? I’ll handle the onion and garlic.” Hyunjin nods and follows your orders without much trouble, or so you think, until you turn around and see him holding the knife in a very precarious and questionable manner. Your eyes widen as you rush towards, “Oh my god, that is not how you should be trying to cut a potato. Have you not chopped a veggie in your entire life?”

He smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders, “Listen, I don’t do this cooking thing often,” a gentle chuckle leaving him as he takes amusement in your concern, his heart thumping over the sudden proximity you both now shared.

“I-,” you sigh with a baffled expression, “Okay, let me just show you because I am not having you accidentally bleeding out all over my counter.” 

“You’re more worried about your counters than me?”

“Shut up,” you suppress a laugh before softly whispering, “Here, just do it like this,” you reach over and lay your hands atop of his without second thought, guiding him on how to position his hands without the risk of injury. Once you’ve become aware of how your bodies are pressed up against each other from the side, you jump away in an instant, “That’s it! That’s all you gotta do.” You’re quick to avoid eye contact with him, turning towards your own cutting board as you chastise yourself for being so careless with him at that moment.

Hyunjin’s face and ears were soon dusted with a soft pink, heat rushing across his body over the interaction that seemed so natural, but manages to mutter out a quiet ‘thank you’ before trying his knife skills out once more. Despite your momentary embarrassment, you are sure to take sneaky peaks at Hyunjin to make sure he was handling himself well. You move on from chopping and turn your attention to seasoning the chicken while Hyunjin was still focused on the vegetables, going at a leisurely place which you much preferred in this case. 

The rest of cooking goes on in silence aside from the occasional instruction or question, small witty jokes, and touches that seemed to linger more than necessary, but perhaps that was your imagination. Once everything was done, you both sat across from each other, admiring the fruits of your shared labor that was now plated in front of you both. 

“It looks really good!” Hyunjin comments enthusiastically, a wide, toothy grin spreading across his face. 

“It does, right? Let’s eat!”

Neither you miss a beat, taking a huge bite of the udon noodles, letting out a delighted groan over just how flavorful the food was. “Woah,” Hyunjin groans out, surprise at how well tonight had gone thus far with the added victory of food, “Holy shit, this is so yummy.”

“Mhmm,” you mumble out between slurping noodles, “This is better than when I make it on my own.”

“It’s the Hyunjin special that you’ve been missing this whole time,” he says matter-of-factly with a smug smile.

“You’re being pretty bold for a guy who just learned how to hold a knife today,” you tease, playfully sticking your tongue out. Your eyes catch each other for a moment between your fits of giggles, time stopping for the briefest second possible before you both avert your eyes out of nerves. What was that? You thought frantically to yourself, suddenly hyper aware of the strange warmth in your stomach that was also accompanied with the feeling of your stomach dropping. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one you didn’t know how to explain or ever experienced before, but you did know you didn’t want that combination of symptoms again for whatever emotion this was. You clear your throat, taking a sip of water as if it would wash away the discomfort, “I guess we are pretty good, huh? Maybe our acting project has hope if we are able to work this well together,” you joke, a very poor, if not disastrous, attempt to alleviate the awkwardness that seemed to follow you everywhere these days.

Your words stab Hyunjin in the heart, the guilt he had once forgotten was knocking at the door of his heart, forcing itself in without his permission. His entire demeanor deflated the moment those words left your lips, his heart writhing at the reminder that the only reason this situation existed was because of him and his blinding stupidity. Yet, here you are, warmly inviting into your home and treating him as if he was an old friend of the past, as if he had never wounded you and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was deserving of any of this. He stood still, gulping down his food before faintly whispering a hushed apology.

“I’m sorry.”

Your head snaps back up, your eyebrows furrowing with worry once you sense the sadness lacing his trembling voice, his head now turned downwards as if he was trying to mask his state. Perhaps the joke was a little too soon, you thought, now it being your turn to feel bad. “Ah, Hyunjin, I’m sorry-” you apologize hurriedly, “It was just a joke, please don’t take it too seriously. I’m sorry.”

He forces a smile, waving his hand as if to tell you to not worry about it, the words at the forefront of his tongue, but caught in his throat due to the heaviness sinking in his chest. Once again, shame paralyzed his body, the warm sensation behind his eyes reminding him to blink, reminding him he shouldn’t be so selfish in his pain when he was the cause of so much discomfort. Was any of this okay? Was any of this right? He wonders to himself, still unable to find forgiveness within himself. 

“Hyunjin,” you speak tenderly, your hand reaching across the table to touch his arm, grounding him back in the present, “I promise, it’s okay.” You knew that last bit was a lie, but it was for his own sake and comfort at this point. His treatment, his behavior, his attitude – none of it was ever okay, but you decided to ignore your own feelings and prioritize his. For the first time in two years, you cared about how he felt, you finally cared how your words harmed him, when before all you ever aimed for was a strike to his heart, but today, you chose to comfort his heart that your words unintentionally wounded. Although, your own heart and conscience briefly argued for a moment, one wanting to tend to his hurt, while the other demanded you let him rot in his misery, insisting he deserved it for what he had put you through. It was a tug-of-war you weren’t enjoying, you had almost wished you two remained in your heated hatred for one another and that nothing ever changed. Despite what your mind screamed at you, you chose to listen to your heart, you chose him over yourself.

He takes a deep breath in, trying to collect himself before speaking, “I just–,” a heavy exhale escapes him, “I’m just sorry. I just feel really, really, really bad for everything, but I also feel like I’m not allowed to feel bad when I was the one to hurt you.”

His eyes met yours, the glassiness of his eyes conveying the depth of his guilt, “Oh, Hyunjin,” you whisper apologetically, “Listen, I won’t lie to you, what you did was shitty. You did hurt me, but that is in the past. You feeling bad about it means you’re a good person, right? It means you’re human and that you care, but I don’t want you to let your guilt overwhelm you either.”

It was a genuine response in a moment of sudden vulnerability, your response taking him aback, but the words temporarily placating his never ending thoughts, “I guess, but… I don’t know if I can forgive myself,” he mumbles.

“You don’t have to yet, but you can learn to eventually,” you reply, “I understand it’s hard, and even I still need more time to do that myself, but I do think you deserve to be kind to yourself.” None of that was a lie, you did truly believe he was deserving of his own compassion, but his culpability helped you see the humanity in him. The spitefulness you once knew him for nowhere to be found, but instead there was only a guilt-ridden man who carried a world of humiliation. “I think I can learn to do so soon, too. Spending time with you helps. Besides, I did miss being friends with you if I’m being honest.”

The last sentence causes him to perk up, a small, satisfied smile playing onto your lips, “Really?” he asks, his ears barely believing your words, but his heart was swelling with hope. His eyes search yours, he can’t help but notice how they glimmer under the soft lowlights of your home, and for some reason, he finds warmth and comfort in them. He knows he can trust you, he knows you are being as candor as possible.

“Really, I mean it.”

“I missed it too.”

“Well, I’ll do my best to learn to trust you again. I’ll learn to forgive you eventually, just for now, it still hurts.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll learn too.”

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taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @vixensss @cupidcures @sleepyxxhead @pinkpunkdynamite @kaiyaba taglist cut off at 20 people :)

[writers-hes]

Borrowed Time

SYNOPSIS: You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, abuse, canon-typical themes, death, war)

Chapter synopsis: The end of the story.

AN: Don’t look at the comments / reblogs if you don’t want spoilers!! But please discuss what you think once you’re done reading 🤍

LONDON, 1921

Tommy sits in his chair, unmoving. Dying becomes an issue to him if it affected you this way. Ever since the war, he thought that he was living for free. It didn’t matter if he died now since he was on the verge of dying every day in France but…was this a physical manifestation of what you felt every single day for the four years that he was gone?

“I only have less than three hours left,” you mumbled, eyebrows furrowing on the teacup on the table. “I’m not-I’m not supposed to be here, Tommy…he will kill you if he catches me here.” you whispered, afraid to let the whole world know about how terrible Simon truly was. 

“Hey, you’re alright,” his voice soothes you; the raspiness sending shivers down your spine. He was sitting beside you now, a hand on your bouncing knee. “I made sure you’re alright,”

“Tommy, I know that you hate me,” you sobbed, shaking your head.  “I’m sorry for what-what I did but I…we had these plans together of—of living in a future where it’s just us and—”

“It’s alright,” he says. Seeing you risk everything just to warn him was already enough proof that you were sorry. “I’m sorry for all of the things that I said that night,”

“You’ve-you’ve got to believe me when I tell you that I…I sent you letters every week,” you pleaded. “I know that you might think that I forgot about you, but I never forgot about you, Tom. I’m sorry for believing that you’d think I was replaceable…that I didn’t matter to you,” you whispered the last part, hands on your lap forming into fists. 

Would now be a wrong time to tell you that he loves you? 

“How do you…” he coughs, trying to veer away from the road where you were going. He couldn’t do this now, not when everything’s slowly set in motion. “How did you get the information?”

You fished for the paper in your clutch, showing it to him. 

“I received this during a charity dinner in London,” you said. “I tried everything to put Simon away from you…but I couldn’t. I failed and now…now he’s out to kill you,” 

“He’s not going to kill me,” he replied. “It was Alfie’s men who put that there,”

“But he will!” you exclaimed, looking up at him. “He knows Alfie Solomons…”

“So do I,” he calmly says. “Alfie Solomons and I have an agreement,”

“He killed Johnny,” you warned him, but he was looking at you blankly and you feel despondent. “Alfie Solomons…killed Johnny. Has he not?”

“It was Darby Sabini who killed Johnny. To retaliate, I infiltrated the Eden Club. Alfie Solomons’ men were in charge of security and protection but Darby Sabini’s in charge of whatever dirty work Simon wanted to get done. Their dealings started recently with Johnny’s death,” he says. “It’s not—I,” he sighs, not finding the right words to say.

“Tommy…”

“Whatever happens to me isn’t your fault, Y/N.” He means it, you could tell but a small part of you still couldn’t quite grasp the measures that Simon will undertake to keep you close. “Y/N, love, it’s alright,”

“No- I…I can still try to persuade Simon. I’ll give that-that heir he wants so bad just please don’t…” you heaved, choking on your own tears. The way Tommy said it…like he knew that he was dying soon made you feel cold. You've come so far, would you really let Simon kill Tommy that easily? Tommy's hand on your knee tightens momentarily but he lets it go.

“You will do nothing of that sort,” his throat constricts. “You won’t have to do things you don’t want to anymore. I’m—I’m here now. I want you to be happy and I’ll do everything to make sure that you are but if an heir with him is something that you—“

“I don’t want to carry his child,” you shook your head. “Tommy, can’t you see? I just want you to live and be—be happy. We both changed since you left. The war took so, so much from you, Tom. We’ve both said things we cannot take back but God, Tommy. I want us to be happy and I want you to rest,” 

“We can rest together…be happy together,” he proposes. “Our future isn’t that far away if—“

“How?” you asked, voice small and eyes full of tears. “How?”

“No more running away. I have a plan,” he tells you, but he didn’t want to divulge the details. His blue eyes stare directly into you. His face was blank, but his body was leaning towards you, gentle hand still on your knee. “Hey,” he says, putting his hands on top of yours. You started to pick on your nail beds again. He interlocks his fingers with yours and you smile slightly. Just like when you were kids. 

“Sorry,”

“Y/N,” he stops himself. Why did you have to apologize for everything?. “I…I wrote to you,”

“Tommy—“

“I did. I waited for your letter everyday. I-I would be the first one to be there when letters were being sent but I sent them to Watery Lane,” he says. “I can’t go on with this without you knowing that I waited for you. I don’t want you to think that I’ve abandoned you because I don’t. I could never.”

He didn’t know where his courage was coming from. Maybe it was because he could feel the end coming soon. He was so scared to die without letting you know about what he truly felt for you, no matter how selfish that sounded. He wouldn’t die until he tells you about how much he loved you, about how deep this love ran through him.

“I know…Arthur told me,” you nodded. You blink away the tears that threatened to fall. “It’s me who didn’t wait for you and I-I regret it every day, you know? Not waiting…because I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t be here if I did and—I’ve always believed in your promises, Tommy. I knew that you were going to keep them but I—“

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothes you, he’d be asking Arthur about that sometime. “I’m not angry. I’m alright, you’re alright, we’re alright,” You didn’t believe him though and neither did he. 

“Tommy?” you asked. “Do you know who tried to stop the letters?”

“I do,” he replied.

“You don’t want to tell me?”

 He hums.

“Can you hold me? Instead of telling me?”

Borrowed time, you were on borrowed time and all you wanted was Tommy’s arms around you. Love is a funny thing. The world was ending and all you could ever think of is how Tommy’s hands were made for destruction, but they were also made to hold yours. 

-

The house was dark when you came back. For a house filled with servants, the house was quiet  An eerie feeling washes over you and you walked on, looking for anyone. Instead, the fireplace was open, flames roaring while your husband sat. He was looking intently into the fire, smoking his pipe. 

“Where did you go?”

“Out and about,” you said, the lie rolling perfectly from your tongue. 

“I see,” he nods. “Did you know that Ada Shelby was abducted today?”

You stopped, ice creeping up your spine.

“Tommy Shelby captured the Eden Club owned by Sabini and then, Sabini abducted Ada Shelby.” he says it like it was nothing. “I wonder why Tommy Shelby captured the Eden Club. Do you happen to know why?”

“No, Simon,” you shakily replied. “Why…?”

“Because Darby Sabini killed Big Johnny. Do you know why?” he asked. “You don’t because you’re a fucking idiot, but I’ll lay it down for you. Nice and simple so you can understand. I ordered the death of Big Johnny to punish you for hiding who Tommy Shelby was. I ordered Ada’s abduction because you went to see Tommy Shelby today. I ordered for the death of all the Shelbys—even the children so you would never have to worry about them. I tried to be reasonable, but you wouldn’t listen. Maybe you’d listen to me once all of those Birmingham rats are dead, hm? You’ll have to carry the weight of their deaths in your shoulder because you wouldn’t listen. It’s your fault they’re dying. It’s your fault that Johnny died. I liked him and you killed him,”

“I gave you everything. I love you with all of me and all that I have but you…you still love someone else. What do I have to do for you to love me like you love him?” he asked. He wasn’t looking at you, he was just unmoving…smoking his pipe like he was telling you about today’s weather. You were shaking, afraid for them and for your life. 

“Stop crying,” he orders you, but you couldn’t stop. How could you? He just revealed all of his plans—all the things that he wanted to do to them. “Go to our room and stop fucking crying!”

-

“Well, you look like shit,” Polly says, seeing Tommy on the hospital bed. “What did you do this time?”

“Sabini’s men took me and beat me up,”

“They wouldn’t beat you up without anything. They wouldn’t abduct Ada without reason. I heard that someonedecided to drop by. What did you talk about?”

“Nothing that I don’t already know,” he shrugs. “Can you pass me a cigarette?”

“You want me to help you but you’re not fucking telling me anything,” Polly says, tossing the pack to Tommy’s chest. ��What is it, Tommy?”

“Poll—“

“Tom,” she asserts sternly. “You tell me now or I will get it out of her,”

“Fuck,” he groans, head falling back. “Simon killed Johnny and ordered Sabini to kill all of us. They know that I was staying at Ada’s and saw her enter Ada’s house and got us to where we are now,”

“Fuck…but we’re talking about our lives here, Tom.” Polly stresses. “Do you think that you get to have a say on whether or not we’re dying just because of a promise you made when you were young and naive?”

“I think it’s better if you all leave me to deal with this whole…thing,” Tommy says. “You’re right. Your life is on the line and I’m not really accomplishing anything if you all fucking die because of me. It’s not Y/N’s fault. It’s…that fucking husband of hers! If you really want to know, Polly…since you did give her away, yeah? Simon’s out to get all of us, even Y/N.”

Polly feels her throat tighten. This…this is what she gave you away for. Her nephew on the brink of dying, Ada with multiple fucking bruises, the threat of death, and then, the receiver of all anger…you. 

“That girl is like my daughter,” Polly says. “I will help you, Tom but you have to promise me that—that you will be honest with me. Don’t keep us in the fucking dark. It’s not your own problem anymore. It’s ours,”

“Alright,”

“I know you have a plan. What is it?” Polly asked, inhaling. “Honesty, Tom,”

“I…I made a deal with Alfie Solomons. We are alliances. He works with Simon for Y/N’s security and I allowed a few of his bookies to be in the racetracks in exchange of ensuring…well, Y/N’s safety,” It was half the truth. The other details, Tommy had to omit to ensure the execution—

“Stop fucking hiding,” Poll warns. “Tommy, you have to tell me,”

“Fuck—“ he coughs. “Everything is set in motion, Poll…there’s nothing else,” Polly looks at Tommy, there was no way for him to let up anything. Tommy was just staring at her, uninterested. He held her gaze, but she knew that there was nothing else. Tommy made up his mind about something; she just wished that it would turn out alright. 

-

“I’d like to stroll around the garden today,” you told one of the servants. Life at home had been back to the way things were. Simon was back to the old Simon that you knew but somehow, you felt like your every move was watched. 

“I’m sorry, miss but Mr. Coventry told us that you can only go to the garden with him,” she replied. “We can call on Mr. Coventry to ask…”

“What-what do you mean?” you asked. “I thought I was allowed to go…”

“Mr. Coventry told us that you can only go out of the house with him and that, if he isn’t around, you’re only allowed to be inside the house,” she repeated. You swallowed the constriction in your throat, unable to form any sentence. “We were also instructed to be with you at every single moment, miss,” 

“What?” you asked, frowning. “I don’t need to be tended to every minute of the day,”

“But miss—“

“You may leave. I’ll go to the garden alone and you can just tell Simon that I insisted on it,” you told her, walking away but she grabs your arm. “I didn’t tell you that you can touch me,” you spit. You’ll feel bad about it later but for now, you need to go out. The house was suffocating, and you felt like you were being watched. 

“Miss—“

“Leave me alone,” you scowled. “I want to go to the garden,”

“Oh, darling but you can’t,” Simon says, mocking you. “I told the servants to follow my orders. With the stunts that you’ve been pulling lately, I think it’s just fine to have you close and protected, hm?” he asked, walking over to you.

“Simon, this isn’t right,” you begged. “I’ve been cooped in the house for too long. I need-I want to go out,”

“I wish you could, but I have to go attend a meeting with Alfie Solomons. Did you know that I had your old driver killed? It’s all because of you,” he chuckles. He dismisses the servants with a wave of his hand. “You have to understand that I…I’m doing it for our family. You can hate me,” he states, walking a step closer to you. “Or push me away…” he adds, a tendril of your hair swirling in his fingertips. “You can even try to kill me,” he chuckles, his breath on your ear. “But you’re still mine. You’re my wife. You’re my fucking wife!”

You shuddered, pushing him away. 

“You’re taking everything away from me, Simon,”

“I’m just taking back what I gave you,” 

“My…my freedom. You took away my freedom,” you cried. “You took Johnny away from me! You took the Shelby’s away from me,”

A slap echoes in the halls. 

“Don’t you dare fucking say that I took the Shelbys away from you. They were taking you away from me!” he roared, chest heaving. “What—you didn’t think I would feel magically alright when you visited Tommy Shelby the other day? You didn’t think I wouldn’t know about that fucking locket that you lied to me about? We were having a wedding and you still had Tommy Shelby on you! You think I’d be happy about that? I love you and I…I gave you everything! But I still have to try to read your mind. Tommy doesn’t. You…you’d rather live in the sewers with that fucking criminal than be here with me,”

He caresses the stinging on your cheek, wiping your tears away.

“What does he have that I don’t?”

-

You were locked inside your bedroom, your heart aching. He loves you…but he hurts you. He’s cruel and controlling and full of wrath but he’s dependent and loving and kind. You hated to admit it, but you understood his fears, his anger, and him. 

What if you stole one of the cars right now? You could drive down to Birmingham and stay there or…or you could leave, find a place to stay in Ireland and never be heard of again. Will Simon shoot down the car? Will he shoot you, too? Or will he forbid you to even set your foot in England ever again? 

Simon enters your room, disregarding you completely before sitting on the bed with you. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, his hand covering yours. “I didn’t mean to…to do that,”

Right. 

“Simon…”

“I’m sorry, please,” he says, coming closer to you but you only feel cold and repulsed. “Please, darling… I don’t want to do these things to you. Do you think it doesn’t hurt me when I have to take things away from you? I just can’t…not until I’m sure that I can trust you.”

You closed your eyes, tears falling on the hands that connected you to your husband. 

“I’m so tired, Simon,” you whispered. “You…you taunt me and-and you turn my freedom into your weapon. I understand that you’re angry but to do that…to do the things that your father did to your mother…when you told me before that you hated him for it…what does that make you?” you asked. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree…was that supposed to be your excuse every time he does something horrible?

“I—I…”

“I married you not because I know that you can give all these things to me. I married you because you told me you loved me. You told me that I was important to you…but is this what love is? Is love supposed to be painful? Is love supposed to bruise? Is this what love is supposed to be like?” you asked. You removed your hand from his, standing up and walking away. If this is what love bruises you like peaches, you wanted no part of it. 

Simon has given you the wings to fly but he likes to cut them whenever you fly too close to the sun. 

When you lay in bed that night, Simon’s arm draped on your figure, you only felt cold. You laid on the softest bed in the world, unmoving…unblinking. 

Maybe you'll be free another time.

-

“I’m sorry for what I did,” he says, setting his utensils down on the dining table. “You have…you have every reason to be mad at me,” 

“Simon,” you sighed. You’ve been playing with your food for a while. “You…you can’t just say sorry every time you decide to…hurt me. I want to be able to love you without fearing for my life,”

“It’s just…Tommy Shelby.”

“I don’t have him anymore,” you told him. “Tommy and I…are nothing but childhood friends. His father used to frequent the brothel when my mother was still alive. He—and I grew up together and he was all I had until he left. Now, I only have you,” you said. “My relationship with the Shelbys is nothing but familial. They took care of me, they took me under their wing,” 

“But he loves you,” he replied. “He loves you, Y/N and he wants to take you away from me! Do you not appreciate my efforts to ensure that our marriage is preserved?”

“What preservation?” you asked, standing up. “What—what preservation? You killed Johnny and you expect me to be alright with it. You took away my friends, my freedom…and you—you expect me to be the same!” You chuckled. “Preservation? You’re the only one killing this marriage, Simon. I love you but no matter how much I show it…it will never be enough,” 

“Then, kill Tommy Shelby!” his voice booms. “You want me to trust you? You want me to see your love? Kill him! We have more than enough money to have one of Alfie’s men or Sabini’s men to kill him. Kill him!”

Your face pinches in anger, eyes turning into slits. 

“What? You can’t be serious,” you scoffed. Simon takes your arm harshly and you flinched. He grips it in his hand, forcing you to stay immobile.

“Kill him,” he spits. “Your love means nothing to me if you won’t,”

“And you think I’ll continue to love you when you’re forcing me to kill my friend?” you asked, shaking your head. “Let me go!”

“No!” his voice booms. He drags you to his office, your legs stumbling behind him. “You have to decide if you’ll kill for me. I’ll kill for you, don’t you know that?” he asked, throwing you on the couch in his study. “I’ll kill for you…”

You stand up to leave but he pushes you down. 

“I don’t care if you don’t love me right now. You will love me again. You’ve been obedient for Tommy’s sake…that’s the greatest love of all and I—I don’t have it,” he whispers. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted and I don’t have it.”  He shakes his head, watching your husband turn into the cruel man that you learned to hate. He walks towards the door and exits. You run after him but he forces the door closed from the other side. 

“Make sure that Mrs. Coventry is taken care of,” he tells his security. “Only maids are allowed to be inside but don’t let anyone near the door until I leave. She will remain in this room until I arrive in the evening.”

You were rattling the door but to no avail. Your tears were freely flowing, trying to get the door open by slamming your body on it. You could hear the quiet murmur outside but they were all ignoring you.

“Let me out, Simon!” you sobbed. “Let me out! Let me out…please!” you cried, slamming your body harder but it couldn’t fucking open. Your fall on the floor, consoling yourself from the coldness and the darkness of Simon’s office. If your mother saw you today, would she be proud of you?

-

Time passes in Tommy’s eyes, his eyes blank. Alfie Solomons told him to wait but he couldn’t. Their men surrounded the mansion, pretending to be your security but they’ve been planning the seeds, telling Tommy that you weren’t allowed to be out of the house with your husband anymore. He heard some of the men joke that you were a ghost that sat on the window because they have never even seen you. 

“Tommy,” Alfie called, a young man trailing after him. “I’ve got someone useful for you. One of my men in Coventry’s fucking mansion. Go on, David. Tell Mr. Shelby here about the fucking horrors in that big, big mansion,”

David nods, his resolve dissolving upon seeing Tommy’s icy stare directed at him. 

“My name is David and I’m assigned to the security of the house. Mrs. Coventry is currently locked in Mr. Coventry’s house—“

“Ah, fuck, mate. Just say Y/N and Simon. These fucking names really…” Alfie interjected. He nods. 

“Um—Simon laid a hand on Y/N yesterday,” his eyes looking away from Tommy. “She’s not allowed to-to go out of Simon’s study…after Y/N refused to have Mr. Shelby killed”

“What about the driver that brought her to me?”

“He’s dead. Darby Sabini’s men killed him,” Alfie shrugged. He dismisses David with a wave of his hand.  “Be honest with me, Tommy. Who is she? Because it’s quite absurd, innit? Here is a man with a wife and then another man who vows to what? Take her back? If I was Simon Coventry…I would be mad too, is what I’m saying. Did you know the tenth commandment, mate? Thou shall not covet thy neighbor’s wife…did you know that?”

“No one,” was Tommy’s laconic reply, standing up to walk away. Alfie chuckles.

“No one!” he exclaimed, slamming his hand on the table. “This no one cost me a man. A poor lad who decided to follow your Y/N’s orders for what? A few pounds and a fucking—a fucking night with you. Is that it, Tom? No one. Fucking no one and I’m letting my men run around after your fucking whims!”

“A fucking night? My fucking whims?” Tommy spits. 

“What? Is it not true?” he asked, “You’re fucking…obsessed, mate. That’s what you are! She is married. The more you act the more she gets…fucking hurt. You think that’s alright?”

“He’s using her!” Tommy shouts over. “He’s hurting her no matter what I do or not do. Did you fucking know that? You’re not doing anything!” he asked, eyes teary. 

“Then, don’t fucking do anything! It wouldn’t matter anyway; you said it yourself. As damned as I am, Tommy, don’t fucking do anything,” 

Tommy shoves Alfie, shaking his head. No fucking difference? 

“What the fuck? Tommy!” Alfie shouts. “What’s the matter? You’re fucking angry, eh?”

“Yes, I’m fucking angry!” he says, pointing a gun to Alfie. 

“Oh, you’re going to kill me?” he taunts. “You’re going to fucking kill me when your anger is un-fucking-justified! So, what, Simon has your woman, eh? He has her? You’re angry at me but fucking hell, Tommy! How many men do I have to sacrifice for this little fucking protection project you got going on? How many fathers will you fucking kill? You think you’re better than Simon Coventry? You’re going straight to fucking hell, Tommy! Straight to fucking hell! Just like me and Simon! You come to me to get closer to Simon Coventry and…you stand there, talking about not doing anything when it’s my men that have to go through the other end of the barrel. Kill me and pull that trigger for some fucking honorable reason. Like an honorable man and not like—not like some fucking civilian that does not understand the wicked way of our world, mate,” he spits. Tommy stares at him blankly. 

“Look, mate—Tommy. I will fucking help you but you have to be fucking patient. The races at Sabini’s tracks are happening soon. You just have to be patient.”

Tommy shoves Alfie away from him. He wouldn’t understand—he’d never understand. Time was ticking and if he didn’t move now, he’ll get killed.

-

“I think it would be much better to wear the green,” Simon says, looking at the dress that you have on for the races. “Wear it,”

“Oh, but it would be such a waste,” you told him, twirling to show him the way the fabric draped beautifully on you. “Don’t you think so? Besides, it’s going to be so hot at the races today. I don’t want to sweat,”

Simon pinches his nose.

“I suppose so,” he agrees, striding over you and laying his hand on your waist. “You do look ravishing, darling. I already can’t wait to take you home, hm?”

“We have to make sure our horse wins first,” you tell him, laying your head on his chest while you let his eyes rake over your body. “Simon, can-can you kiss me?” 

“Why so sudden?” he asked, turning you around. “Is everything alright, darling?”

“Of course,” you smiled at him, studying his face. This was the Simon tha you loved; the kind Simon that you rarely see these days. “I just want you to kiss me, my love. Can’t you kiss your darling wife?” He smiles a small smile, taking your chin with his gentle fingers and kissing you. 

“I love you, Y/N,”

“I love you too, Simon.” you told him, pecking his lips once more before a knock breaks you away. 

“Looks like we’re ready to go,” he tells you. 

“Of course, you can go ahead. Let me just fix my hair and we can go,” you replied, turning away from him. He was so warm…so, so, so, warm. Simon leaves you with a kiss on your forehead. You’ve been good lately, no Tommy Shelby…no requests…no anything. You could tell that he loves it; that you were obedient but if you didn’t want a repeat of what happened, you had to play your cards right. You fix your hair one last time and double-check the contents of your purse. It felt heavy, it felt right. 

You had to get this right; you were living on borrowed time after all. 

Your car stops at one of Darby Sabini’s tracks in London. Simon requested privacy and privacy he’ll get. No one knows that the Coventry’s are present in the race except for Alfie, Sabini, and the men who ushered you to the private room. No word was supposed to be out that you were both here. Simon forbade it. You let Simon walk in front of you with his hand clasped around yours. The room you were in had whisky, rum, and other items that you knew were not for the general public. When you arrived, a man with a hat was waiting.

“Darling, I’d like for you to meet Alfie Solomons,” Simon tells you, removing his hand from yours to shake Alfie Solomons’ hand. “He’s been the one supplying us with security. Sabini will get here in a while, but I think that it’s better for you to meet Mr. Solomons first.” 

“Good…day, Mrs. Coventry,” Alfie greets, a polite bow sent to your way. 

“Good day, Mr. Solomons. I’ve heard so much about you from my husband,” you offered, smiling at him. 

“Good things, I hope?” he asked. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Mr. Coventry, Darby Sabini’s been looking for you. Something about your dealings. I don’t really keep track, you know?”

“Of course,” Simon nods. He kisses your head. “Will it be alright to leave you with Mr. Solomons for the meantime, my love?”

“Sure, darling,” you said, your hand tightening on the beaded purse in your hand. He smiles at you before leaving, looking for Darby Sabini. You watched the door close and you were about to sit down when Alfie Solomons spoke.

“You know, love,” Alfie starts, walking to you closer. He stops right beside your ear. “If you wanted to hide that gun better, you’d have to loosen your grip on your purse. I can see the outline of the barrel from where I was standing.” he says before leaving you in the room. “Darby Sabini’s not here but he is somewhere by the racetracks,” he hints.

“What do you want?” you asked, following him. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Let’s just say I’m a friend of Tommy Shelby,” he nods to himself. Your blood runs cold, and your face turns pale. “Go,” he urges. “Do whatever you want,”

You exited the special room with haste. Blood was ringing in your ears and you couldn’t breathe properly. You were stumbling with adrenaline, with hope, with…every single emotion that you never thought you could feel and comprehend. Nobody else was in the corridors leading to the room marked with an unassuming planter box beside it. You cautiously entered and Simon turned around immediately. His face tenses with alarm when he sees you. 

“Darling, what are you doing here? You should go back with Mr. Solomons before Darby Sabini sees you. I told our men to all leave so he and I could have some privacy,” he warns, eyes darting everywhere.

“He’s not…he’s not here,” you tell him, unloading the gun from your purse with shaky hands. 

“What—what is this about?” Simon asks, looking pointedly at the gun that Tommy gave you long ago. You weren’t even sure if it was still working. You point the gun at him, straight to his face. “You’re going to kill me? Is that it?” he asked, anger taking over his features. “You’re going to kill me when I’ve given you everything! I gave you your fucking life, Y/N. Put that gun down and-and we’ll pretend like this never happened,”

“No! You—you took everything away from me, Simon. You took my family away. You took Johnny away from me and you still—you still expect me to love you? You took me away and weaponized my freedom. You think—you think that I can still love you? I wake up every day counting to ten if you’d hit me. If you’d shove me down and slap me and kick me. This isn’t love, Simon! This is prison,” you enraged, your gun shaking. “You told me that…you told me that the only way out is if I kill you,” you heaved. 

“Y/N…you’re being callous right now, love. You’re not you…you’re angry,” he tries, walking towards you but you just shook your head. “You’re being stupid!”

“Stop! Simon, stop!” you shouted, the volume of your voice raisins. “I can never be smart for you. I’ll always be a property in your eyes and I—and I’ll never ever be your equal,” you sobbed. “This is something that I need to do. You broke me,” you cried, tears falling in your eyes. “You broke me, and you still expect me to love you,”

“I love you, Y/N,” he sobs. “I love you—“

The coiled spring that wrung your heart explodes.

A manicured hand pulls the trigger, and your husband falls to the ground along with the gun that you held. Your hands shake and you fall on the floor, wailing. Now that the job was done, who else would you have? You crawled towards him, your dress was getting dirty, but you didn’t care. Who thought you’d finally use the gun that Tommy bought you for protection? 

You lay your head down on his chest, there was no heartbeat. He was dead, Simon was dead. The trembling of your hands, hold what you could. The blood trails down your arm and you just lay there. He was dead. Simon was dead, you killed him. You killed Simon. You killed the man who loves you. 

“There’s no use crying over spilled milk,” a gruff voice that belonged to Alfie Solomons says behind you. “You’re more capable than what Tommy painted you out to be,”

“Where is he?” you asked. It was odd, you thought you’d be crying by now. “Where’s Tommy?”

“Sabini’s men took him,” Alfie shrugged. “Simon ordered Sabini to kill Tommy today. You did well,”

“I killed my husband,” you told him. The waver in your voice couldn’t be pinpointed to one single emotion. “I just…I just killed my husband,”

“I see that,” he replied. “This wasn’t Tommy’s plan really. He was supposed to kill Simon and I was supposed to guard you while this all happens but…I guess Simon was quite intelligent too,” he says, pushing Simon’s limp arm with his cane. “You’re a good shot,”

“Mr. Solomons, I’ll buy your silence for five thousand pounds. I’ll let your men take care of this scene for ten thousand more. Make sure that none of this is blamed on me or on Tommy,” you negotiated, pulling yourself away from your husband. You were still trembling and Alfie could see how hard you tried to supress yourself from revealing too much.

“You just landed yourself millions. I don’t think a few thousand more will be burdensome on your pockets?” he asked, looming over you. He extends his hand for you to take, and you do, hauling yourself to meet him at eye level. You swallowed. 

“Blame this all on Darby Sabini,” you told him. You stand up straighter, looking him in the eye. “And I’ll make sure that the cash is ready for you after the funeral. I’m sure you’d want very powerful friends on the inside?”

Alfie nods, a smirk forming on his face. Looks like you never needed Tommy in the first place. 

The police found you wailing on the scene of the crime, the weapon nowhere to be found. Alfie Solomons testified that you were with him the whole time when one of his men ran to tell you that Sabini’s men shot him in the head. He had someone testify on it too.The funeral was private and quick, you decided to bury him with his parents in the mausoleum with ‘COVENTRY’ written in gold. Simon bequeathed every property to your name in his will. You were free; you were finally, finally, free. 

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1922

After selling your mansion in London, you moved back to Birmingham. You bought a house that was big enough to have guests over but still not as massive as your mansion in London. You haven’t talked to Shelby’s in a year, even though they did lend a hand with what happened to Simon. Apparently, it was Polly who arranged a meeting between some Lizzie Stark and Sabini. Tommy and Alfie connived to kill Simon, but Sabini’s men took Tommy away to some far away place before anything could happen. You couldn’t face them yet, not with the freshness of your wound…not with the guilt that clawed its way deep into you. 

You’ve been with Simon for such a long time that you almost forgot what it was like to be yourself. 

You looked at the garden outside your window, feeling nostalgic because this was the same garden where Tommy used to take you all those years ago. You were only kids back then…how time flies. Does he know thatnyou moved back to Birmingham? Is he giving you space?

You watched the rain fall from the French windows, appreciating the breeze and the calm that the pitter patter gave you. You looked on, a single figure walking towards your house and you smiled. For the first time since your life started, you were finally free. 

-

A/N: It’s done! It’s finally done…actually, it isn’t. I will be uploading an epilogue sometime soon and then, I will be doing a Q&A afterwards which by the way, I’m already accepting question submissions! I will be posting all of the questions in one post and I hope you guys send in some questions about the story. I want to thank every one of you for loving the story of Y/N and Tommy and it has been such a ride. I can’t write anything about a final author’s not yet…I still don’t know how to feel to finally be able to finish this story…but maybe soon? Thank you so much for waiting and thank you so much for the overwhelming love and support! As always, don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, or maybe all… to show your appreciation! Thank you so much.

TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​ @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash @sweetwanderlust05 @globetrotter28 @thebestandworstdayofjune @reggxe-a @verreuckteli @vampireluck @zoexme @liter4ti @quixscentsposts @homosexualjohnwayne @charli123456789 @Maria_elizabeth21

[weareapackofstrays]

A New Kind of Love: Chapter III

Genre: Non-Idol college au, slight enemies to lovers (more like they annoy e/o at the start), friends with benefits, smut, angst, romance, drama

Pairing: Minho x F!Reader

Warnings: Drinking, Cigarette Smoking, Mention of Weed, Nonconsensual touching, Cussing, Spanking, Rough Sex, Physical Violence (Minho punches a guy), Degradation, Reader is a bit of a brat. Let me know if I forgot anything! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 5,377

Summary: You didn't grow up with great examples of love. Your parents were always at each other's throats. As a result, you have struggled with expressing your true feelings and can come off cold or defensive. After your boyfriend of 2 years cheats on you during freshman year with your childhood best friend, you decide to swear off love for good. Now in your second year of college, you move into the basement apartment of a house full of college boys. Inevitably crossing paths with one of them, Minho quickly gets under your skin in more ways than one. Despite your differences, you can't stay away from him.

A/N: Apologies for the lengthy chapter. I am also realizing that I have written a lot of parties into this story haha, but it's college. Side note/fun fact: I based the campus and house off of Penn State and where I used to live. Feedback/thoughts are always welcome!

Chapter III: Those Are Mine Now Prev | Next

Fall semester was coming to a close and the first snow had fallen on campus. You loved the smell of snow and the sound it made when it crunched under your boots. It rarely ever snowed back home. A few weeks had gone by since your library encounter with Minho and as much as you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His touch, his tongue, they were haunting your dreams both day and night. As you replay the moment in your head, you miss Yuqi and Momo walking up to your table at the usual meet up spot. Yuqi sits down across from you and exchanges a look with Momo as they notice your spaced out state.

“Ground control to Major Tom?” Yuqi waves at you to get your attention.

“It appears we've lost connection,” the two girls mimic speaking into an intercom. You banish Minho from your head and smile at them.

“Sorry.”

“Damn, where did you go?” Momo, your other best friend, slides into the booth next to you wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Nowhere…” you shrug your shoulders. After placing your orders, the girls turn their attention to you.

“So are you going to Max’s party this weekend?” You look between Momo and Yuqi blinking.

“I guess she hasn’t heard,” Momo says. “Max is throwing a party at the Theta Chi house Saturday night to celebrate the end of finals. You have to come!”

“Jisung is going so he’s bringing his roommates with him,” Yuqi adds.

“Wow I guess you two are really hitting it off.” You mindlessly flip through the sugar packets for something to add to your tea.

Yuqi bites the tip of her thumb and scrunches her nose. “Yes.” She starts to giggle.

“Ew, okay.” You stick your finger down your throat, jokingly.

“Stop, I really like him!” She covers her face shyly.

“They’re all over each other, it’s gross.” Momo rolls her eyes in gest. 

Yuqi scoffs. “Whatever, you just can't stand how cute we are.”

“That is accurate.” You laugh at Momo’s comment before changing the topic.

“So you said Jisung and his roommates will be there?”

Yuqi is scrolling through her phone mindlessly. “Yeah.” You pick at your napkin trying to act nonchalant. 

“All of them or just-”

Yuqi lets out a frustrated sigh. “If you’re trying to ask if Minho will be there then just say so.” She places her hands on her hips and gives you a pointed look. The waiter walks over interrupting to drop off your food. 

Momo takes hold of her plate and turns to you, “Minho? Who is that?” 

“No one. He’s no one.”

“No one doesn’t fuck someone in a library, Y/n.” Yuqi raises an eyebrow, casually taking a sip of her coffee.

Momo’s eyes go wide as she shouts, “ What?!” You look around at the other restaurant patrons and try to shoosh the girls. Yuqi lets out a cackle. “What the hell, Y/n. Spill!” Momo drops her hand from your shoulder and nudges you for an explanation. 

“Sorry, it’s nothing really. We just kinda hooked up a few weeks ago.”

“Minho went down on her in the stacks.” Yuqi says with a mouthful of food.

“In the stacks?” Momo lets out a whistle. “Yeah, sure sounds like nothing.” They both laugh and you kick them under the table. 

“Ouch!” They cry out in unison. 

Yuqi rubs her calf, still laughing. “And to answer your question. Yes, he will be there.”

“I didn’t ask.” You take a sip of your tea and shrug. Yuqi kicks you under the table now, but you don’t react.

“What are we going to do with her?” Yuqi sighs.

Momo looks at you coyly, “I can think of a few things.” She winks at you.

“Okay, now it’s my turn to be grossed out,” Yuqi feigns disgust as she looks at her meal. “And in front of my salad.”

“Speaking of tossed salad.” You choke on your drink and start laughing along with Momo. Yuqi throws her fork down. “I just lost my appetite.” She raises her finger in the air, “Check, please!” 

-

On your way to the arts building to take your last final of the semester, you see Minho talking to a very pretty girl. Shoot. You had definitely been avoiding him at home and on campus recently, but curiosity gets the better of you. Quickly ducking behind some students, you settle behind a tree to get a better look. Minho stands leaning against a wall of a neighboring building. He’s dressed in utility pants, crewneck, and a beanie. He looks good. Too good. What a dick, you think. He’s laughing with her and they seem to be close. You feel an unfamiliar pang in your chest at the sight of them together. Minho looks in your direction and you flee into a crowd, sprinting to your final. 

Minho chats with his dance partner, Mel. They break out into laughter as they recall something funny their dance instructor said earlier during their final. They have known each other since the start of Freshman year and while they weren’t best friends, there was still a closeness between them as dance partners. Minho was blown away by her skill the first time he watched her dance and knew he had to make her his partner after that. Mel has really helped him grow as a dancer and maybe had an influence on his patience too. While going over their plans for Christmas break, Minho feels the back of his neck tingle and senses eyes on him. He turns to look for the source and thinks he spies you, but you’re gone before he can confirm it’s you. He looks back to Mel to continue their chat when Mel’s girlfriend, Leah, joins them.

“Hey, you two.” Leah plants a kiss on Mel’s cheek. Minho greets her with a nod.

Leah looks at Minho and pats his arm. “You going to Max’s party this weekend?” 

“Yeah, Jisung is making us go.”

“Making?” Mel questions.

“A girl he’s sweet on will be there so all the guys are going as moral support.” He shrugs.

“Sweet on? Are you from the past, old man?” Leah tries to poke Minho in the rib teasingly, but he immediately flinches, avoiding her. She turns to Mel, “We should get going, love.” Mel nods and gives Minho a wave. 

“See you this weekend!”

He watches them leave admiring the two of them as they walk hand in hand. Minho catches himself imagining the two of you similarly walking around campus and gives himself a slap.

“Stop that!” he chastises himself and leaves for his next class.

-

Momo, Yuqi, and you stand at the base of the stairs of the Theta Chi house and look up. There are colorful lights blinking in the window and you can hear the base of whatever song is blasting. Yuqi pulls you both into her side and you ascend the steps. As soon as you open the door you're greeted by a flood of people dancing and chatting. Yuqi helps guide you through the crowd for a meeting point she had pre-planned with Jisung. Jisung and Felix spot all of you and Jisung jumps in the air to capture your attention. Yuqi sees him and shrieks excitedly. Still holding onto your arm, she starts running in the direction of the boys. You quickly grab Momo’s hand as you are pulled through the sea of people. Jisung pulls Yuqi into a hug and places a peck on her cheek. They stare into each other’s eyes fondly as they say hi to each other. It makes your chest tighten a little.

“Oh my god. They really are whipped for each other,” you whisper into Momo’s ear. She laughs and nods back.

“Hey, Y/n!” Jisung pulls you into a hug next, followed by Felix. Felix lingers a little and you notice he is staring at something past you. Minho watches the four of you from across the room and meets Felix’s eyes. Felix releases you.

“Hi Felix," you smile at him.

“It’s good to see you again,” he says, giving your arms a gentle squeeze. 

You look at Jisung. “Hey, neighbor.”

“I feel like it’s been a while since we’ve seen you,” Jisung says. You laugh uncomfortably and Yuqi turns away to hide her knowing giggle.

“Just been busy I guess.” You turn to Momo, bringing her forward. “This is our friend, Momo, by the way.” 

“Momo! We finally meet!” Jisung grabs her and gives her an unexpected tight hug. Yuqi’s face lightens up with the biggest smile. Momo looks at the two of you with a shocked face and laughs. Jisung releases her and Felix takes her hand as they exchange hellos. After Felix offers to grab beers for everyone, the four of you settle into a corner and comfortably chat. Felix eventually returns with drinks and joins in on the conversation. 

You take a few sips, nodding your head to whatever Jisung is saying while you casually scan the room for someone. For him. Right on cue, the crowd parts and directly across the room in front of you, stands Minho. You notice his hand holding a red cup and find yourself staring at his fingers, then your eyes drift up to his arm admiring the tattoo covering most of his forearm. You make a mental note to get a better look at it later. Minho feels your gaze and looks in your direction. He thinks you’re staring at him at first, but then follows your eyes to his arm. He tilts his head and a grin spreads across his face. He takes a sip of his drink purposely pulling you from your thoughts. Your eyes meet. A warm sensation trickles through your body. Minho turns his attention back to someone. It’s her. The pretty girl from before. Did he come here with her? And who the heck is she? Are they sleeping together? You want to ask Jisung or Felix who Minho is talking to, but worry you’ll only get more questions back from them. Minho puts his hand on the girl’s shoulder and you feel an emotion akin to jealousy ignite within you. Momo notices you looking distracted so she nudges you.

You face her and arch a brow. “What?”

Momo leans into your ear. “Let’s dance.”

Felix asks to accompany the two of you and the three of you walk out to the makeshift dance floor in the living room. Minho watches you curiously, but remains chatting with Mel. Felix and Momo sandwich you between them while you jump around dancing and shouting the lyrics of the song playing. You try to forget about Minho and his pretty friend and get lost in the music. A girl you recognize from one of your art history classes taps on Felix’s shoulder and asks him to dance. He looks at you and Momo for permission, but you both wave him away.

“Go, have fun, babe!” He leaves the two of you to dance together. Momo gets distracted by someone behind her and chats them up so you now dance alone. Minho catches your eye again and you see him with another girl. You turn around growing further annoyed. Why isn’t he coming to say hi? Minho looks at the back of you wondering what game you're playing. He turns to Mel’s girlfriend, Leah, and excuses himself for a moment. He starts to make his way onto the dance floor when another guy steps in instead. He’s unsure what’s said, but he assumes he is asking to dance with you. You wrap your arms around the guy and start moving together. Minho feels anger boil under his skin, but decides to go find his roommates before he does something dumb.

Momo finally returns her attention back to you and gives your new dance partner a get lost look. “My turn,” she shouts as she grabs hold of your waist possessively. You thank your dance partner and turn around to face Momo. The two of you dance in the middle of the makeshift dance floor while taking more swigs of beer. She takes hold of you pulling you in closely. You both get into the rhythm and her warm body feels good against yours. You wrap an arm around her neck gently grinding into her. She takes that as a signal and brings you in for a kiss. It wasn’t the first time you had messed around with Momo. The two of you usually end up making out at some point whenever you attend parties together. Momo slides a hand down and gives your ass a squeeze. You slap her jokingly, but she doesn’t relent. Instead, she slides her tongue further into your mouth and you can feel her moan. Excitement rushes through you.

Minho finds Jisung and Yuqi in the backyard. They have been joined by a few of his other roommates, Hyunjin and Changbin. Jisung’s hand is wrapped around Yuqi’s back, holding her closely to his side. Minho hasn’t seen Jisung look this happy in a long time and it makes him swell with joy. He bumps beer bottles with the boys, greeting each other. 

Yuqi leans into Minho’s side. “Have you seen Y/n?” 

“She’s on the dance floor with your other friend.”

“Momo?” she asks. Minho nods and looks back in the direction of the dance floor.

“They’re somewhere over-” he cuts himself off when he spots the two of you making out. Yuqi and Jisung follow his gaze curiously. Yuqi sees the two of you embracing each other and rolls her eyes. Jisung stands with his mouth open like a fish and Yuqi smacks his chest. He laughs, but nervously looks to Minho for his reaction. 

“I guess it’s that time of night then,” Yuqi says jokingly. “They’re like that sometimes.” 

“Sometimes?” Jisung says surprised. “Aren’t they friends?”

“Yeah, of course, and it’s just two drunken friends having fun. Don’t read too much into it.” She says that more for Minho’s benefit, but notices his fist balled at his side. 

“There’s nothing between them. It doesn’t mean anything, I promise.” She places a hand on his forearm to reassure him. Minho looks at Yuqi and gives her a quick smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. He takes the last sip of his beer and walks away. Changbin notices Minho leaving abruptly. 

“Where is Hyung going?” He asks Jisung. 

“Probably to get another drink,” he lies. Minho hadn’t really told anyone about the nature of his relationship with you, but Jisung and Felix knew something was happening.

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew there was a chance Minho would see the two of you together. You didn’t know where he was, but you could feel him near. Were you doing this for attention? Maybe. Did you know why? Your buzzed state convinced yourself no. Momo weaves her fingers into your hair, pushing you closer together. Her kisses were becoming more desperate. You try to enjoy the sweet taste of your silly friend’s tongue in your mouth while you both sway to the upbeat music together, but Minho’s potentially disappointed face keeps interrupting your thoughts. You decide it is time to stop. You disconnect your lips and Momo whines when you try to step away. She pulls you back and nuzzles into your neck, licking your sensitive spots. She was definitely tipsy and the two of you often got touchy feely, sometimes more in the privacy of your apartment, but things were getting borderline public indecency now. 

“Babe, we should stop,” you reluctantly push her away. 

“Fine.” she says exasperated. “I’m gonna go grab another drink.” You could tell she was disappointed so you call after her.

“I love you!” 

“Yeah, yeah.” She waves you off.

Alone in the crowd you look around for Minho, but accidentally bump into someone else. You face the person you assailed and see a gorgeous dimpled man smiling back at you.

“Y/n?” It takes you a moment to connect the dots. 

“Oh! Chris?”

“Yeah!” The two of you had recently seen each other in passing, but hadn’t spoken much. You look down to inspect him. 

“I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?”

“Nah, nah you're good.” The two of you start to casually dance together and chat when Momo finally returns with a new drink in hand. She looks to Chris then you.

“Is this the famous Minho?” Your eyes widen in mortification. Chris coughs and laughs, which makes you wonder if Minho told Chris about what had happened between you. You brush it off and recover your composure. 

“Uh, no, this is-”

“I’m Chris,” he puts a hand out and Momo takes it. “I’m one of Y/n’s neighbors.”

“Oh, how fun.” She looks at you and smiles while waggling her brows. Still holding hands, you notice the two are definitely attracted to each other so you use this as an opportunity to escape.

“Alright, well, why don’t you two chat. It looks like I am in need of a refill now.”

“Later!” Momo waves without breaking eye contact with Chris. Pushing through the crowd of drunk college students, you look back and see Momo wrap her arms around Chris’s neck as they start to dance. Good. You love Momo, but you sometimes worry that if the two of you keep things going too long, feelings might get skewed and you don't want to risk losing her friendship…even if it was a lot of fun. 

The kitchen is surprisingly sparse of people and you take a moment to soak in the quiet. You pour some punch into a solo cup and lean against the counter to sip. Minho knocks on the wall to announce his presence.

“Hey.” He stands with his hands in his pockets. He’s wearing black jeans with a white v-neck tee and jean jacket. You can feel your heart start to race so you look into your cup for a distraction.

“Hey,” you say casually. He takes a step into the kitchen and hovers. Minho can tell you’re trying to avoid him. Unable to take these games he finally speaks.

“Look, we need to talk.” 

Before he can say what he wants to say, Kyle enters the kitchen and greets you, completely unaware of Minho’s presence.. 

“We meet again, sweetheart.”

A slight panic sets in as your two hookups stand in the same room together. You can feel your cheeks warm from embarrassment. “Hi, Kyle,” you say awkwardly. 

“I was hoping we’d run into each other.” Minho feels anger climb up his spine as he sees Kyle swoop you into an embrace. He walks out of the kitchen in defeat. You peer over Kyle’s shoulder and watch him leave. The pang in your heart returns. Kyle releases you and pins you to the counter. 

“I’ve missed you.” You look away from the empty space where Minho stood then meet Kyle’s eyes. You cock your head to the side amused. “Sure, you have.”

He leans in and whispers. “I’m serious. I miss the way you feel, baby.” You’re annoyed at his words turning you on. Are you really this horny or just tipsy? You chastise yourself.

“Why don’t we take this upstairs, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know, Kyle.” You attempt to deny him.

“Are we really going to do this same dance every time?” He takes hold of your hand and heads for the second floor. Minho watches as the two of you disappear up the stairs and decides he’s had enough.

The two of you walk into the hallway where a few other couples had escaped to for some privacy. Kyle pushes you against the wall and kisses your neck. You place a hand on the back of his head as you feel your body give in to his caresses. He starts to pull you towards a bedroom, but the pang in your heart gets even louder. This isn’t right. You place your hands on Kyle’s shoulder and push him off of you.

“I don’t think we should, Kyle.”

“Come on, baby. Just a quickie.”

You roll your eyes and laugh as he starts to kiss your cheek. You push him away again.

“I’m being serious, Kyle. I don’t want to do this.” He ignores you and tries to guide you into an open bedroom, but he’s interrupted when he’s ripped from your arms.

“Get off her.” Minho yanks Kyle off of you pushing him into the other wall. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Kyle shouts.

“Minho, what the hell are you doing?” Kyle interrupts you and lunges at Minho. Minho anticipates the move and decks him, knocking him down to the ground. 

You look down at Kyle in horror. “Minho, what the actual fuck?” Minho doesn’t hear you and instead throws you over his shoulder. Kyle attempts to stand, but Minho whips around with you in tow and threatens him to “stay down.” Kyle slumps back on the ground. Minho’s punch dazed him a little. He holds his hands up in surrender. 

“Fine, she’s all yours.”

“Gee, thanks, Kyle,” you say sarcastically as you and Minho walk down the stairs. You try to wriggle out of his grasp, but this just makes him grip onto your exposed thighs harder. He takes you outside to the front of the house and cautiously places you on the ground. You see him hover closely, anticipating your escape, but you just cross your arms and scoff.

“What? Do you think I’m going to run away?” The two of you stare each other down before he takes hold of your elbow.

“We’re going home.” It’s not a question, but a demand. 

You pull your arm from his grasp. “You’re not my dad, Minho! You can’t tell me what to do.” 

He laughs at how childish you sound. He gets in your face and you have to lean back so your noses don’t brush. You forgot how good it felt to have him this close. Minho thinks the same, but he tries to remain focused. His voice lowers and he repeats himself, “We are going home.” A shiver runs through you at the shift in his tone. You bite your lip as you feel warmth shoot through your middle. Minho grabs your hand and you don’t fight him this time. 

Finally in front of the house, he releases your hand and you walk past him, but he reaches back out for you and grasps your wrist before you can get too far. You swing back at the force and face him. Minho is looking to the ground when he speaks. He looks calmer now, a little unsure.

“Were you really going to sleep with that guy?”

You shrug, “Probably not.” He shoots air out his nose and shakes his head. He lets you go and leaves.

“Where are you going?” you shout.

“To bed?” He looks at you incredulously.

“You’re such an asshole.” 

He stops in his tracks, turning to face you. 

“I’m the asshole? Me?” He cannot believe how bratty you are being. He also hates how turned on he is.

“Yes.” You stick your tongue out at him. That’s it, he says to himself. His eyes darken and he takes long strides back to you. He grabs hold of your forearm and pulls you into the alleyway beside your shared house. He cages you against the cold brick wall and all you can do is stare at him in bewilderment at his sudden actions.

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/n?” he growls. His anger sends a pleasant sensation through your body again.

“What?” you ask. Doe eyes on full display. He laughs and releases a hand from the wall to run through his hair. The smell of his shampoo invades your senses and you have to keep yourself from purring. Minho looks back at you, all amusement gone from his face. Goosebumps visibly spread across your skin.

“So were you just going to fuck everyone at the party until you got my attention?” Your mouth drops in surprise. He wasn’t…wrong, but you also weren’t expecting him to call you out. You look down at your shoes and shift on your feet. Minho grabs hold of your chin and forces you to look at him.

“You’ve got my attention now, princess. Are you happy?” You don’t answer. “What, no retort? You’re usually so opinionated.”

You try to look away again, but Minho keeps you in place. 

“And what about you? You’re not so innocent.” Your voice shakes as you try to cling to a shred of your dignity. 

“Me?” he asks.

“You were flirting with a few girls yourself!”

He takes a moment to think of who you could be talking about and realizes you mean Mel and Leah. It dawns on him in that moment that it was you he caught watching him on campus earlier in the week. He blinks a few times. “Is that why you were so misbehaved tonight? You were jealous?” You don’t know how to answer him. His eyes drop from yours to your lips. He gently moves his thumb over your bottom lip before slowly sliding it into your mouth. He watches you intently as you accept his digit and start sucking. You swirl your tongue around his finger, but he stops you when he pushes down on your tongue forcing your mouth open. He leans in and swipes his tongue across your own and you moan. He licks your mouth again before forcing your lips together. His hand drops from your chin and slides down to your waist. He takes in your lips fully. Minho’s other hand grips the back of your head pushing you further into your kiss. Your tongues wrestle for dominance, teeth clashing.

You grip the hair on the back of his head and tug, making him moan at the painful sensation. His moan vibrates through your mouth and down your spine. Minho takes his free hand and gently climbs your thigh and up to your waist. Goosebumps spread across your body from the touch of his hand. You have been craving this for weeks. He finds the band of your thong and snaps it against your hip. You both smile against each other’s lips as he pushes his tongue back into your mouth. He then traces the top of your panty line before slipping the tips of his fingers underneath the fabric. His fingers are cold in contrast to your warmth. He separates from your kiss and looks into your eyes for permission.

“Please,” you whisper. Still holding your gaze he slides his fingers down and through your folds. He collects your wetness and pulls out to admire his slick digits. You purr at the sight. He sticks his fingers in front of you. You take hold of his hand and push them fully into your mouth, tasting yourself. Minho swallows hard. There is only hunger in his eyes.

He grabs hold of your neck and crashes back into your lips so he can taste your arousal on his tongue. Minho’s hand returns to your panties and begins to trace circles around your clit. 

“More,” you whisper into his mouth.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to demand, princess.”

“Please, Minho.”

“Better.” He pushes two fingers inside of you and begins to aggressively finger fuck you until you hear your wetness. You missed this feeling. He pants into your mouth as moans spill from your lips.

“You like the way my fingers feel inside you, baby?”

“Yes, Min, yes!” 

“I fucking missed you, Y/n. Did you think of me?” He curls his fingers inside you and you cry out. 

“Every day!” 

You feel yourself about to come. “I’m so close, Min.” Minho removes his fingers from you leaving you empty. Your eyes fly open at the loss. 

“Turn around.” You acquiesce and face the wall. “Hands on the wall.” You place your palms on the cold brick while Minho rustles through his pockets. He pulls out a condom and tears the packet with his teeth. 

“Hurry up, Minho.” He gently slaps your ass and you yelp. “Patience, princess.” Minho slides the condom on and lifts the skirt of your dress. He gently rubs the skin of your cheek where he tapped you and gives it one more slap, this time harder. He pulls your thong down your legs and spits letting the string of saliva slowly fall onto you. He uses a finger to spread his spit through your folds, not that you need the extra lubrication.

“Minho, if you don’t stick your dick in me I am going to-” Minho tugs your hair pulling your ear to his lips.

“Never thought I’d see the day when you would be begging for my cock.” He slaps your pussy.

“God, I hate you,” you choke out. Minho just chuckles. 

“Liar,” he whispers. Losing patience himself, he aligns his tip with your entrance and pushes in allowing your body a moment to adjust. After he bottoms out he pauses taking in the feeling.

“Fuck, Y/n, you feel amazing.” You can’t help, but preen. You’ve thought of nothing else than this moment.

“Minho, move!” you demand. 

“Such a fucking brat.” He feels you clench on him. “Of course you’d like that, slut.” You clench again and he lets out a strangled moan at the sensation. He finally rolls into you and fireworks flash before your eyes. With absolutely no regard for your surroundings, Minho slams into you repeatedly. His hands grip your hips so hard, you’re certain he’ll leave bruises. You look forward to checking the damage in the morning. The heat begins to climb up your body as your orgasm approaches. 

“Min” thrust “ho” thrust “I’m gonna” thrust “come ahhh!” He grabs hold of your mouth to muffle your screams as you cream on his cock. He looks down where the two of you are connected and groans seeing your come trickle down his dick and your legs. He continues to ride you through your orgasm before he finally grunts and releases. Remaining inside of you, he leans into your back and removes the hold on your mouth, gently sliding it down to your back and around to hold your breast. You place your hand on his as he gently massages you. You feel his warm breath on your back. The two of you remain holding each other against the wall until your breathing calms. After your high dissipates you pull away from him and turn around to push Minho off of you. He pulls off the condom, ties it off, and throws it into a bush. While he’s pulling his pants back up, you bend down to grab your thong.  

“Leave them.” 

“What?” You look at him confused.

“Those are mine now.” 

You snort. “You’re kidding me, right?” He holds out his hand and motions for them. You throw them at his face, but he thwarts your efforts and quickly catches them, placing them in his pocket. You tug your dress down, feeling completely bare to the elements, and walk away. 

“Good night, Minho.”

“So she does have manners.” Minho smiles expectantly.

“Crawl into a hole,” you say with a sickeningly sweet smile on your face.

“Sweet dreams, princess,” he blows you an air kiss. You bat his flying air kiss away dramatically. Minho just sighs and follows closely behind you to the front of the house. 

“By the way, the girl you saw me with earlier is my dance partner, Mel.” You face him surprised at the sudden confession. He continues. “And the other girl is her girlfriend, Leah.”

“And I care because?” Feigning disinterest, you look at your nails. Minho says nothing back so you turn on your heel and leave. Minho shakes his head and laughs to himself. 

Silently, the two of you head for your separate doors. He pauses at his entryway and waits for the sound of your door shutting. Once he hears your door close he goes inside the house wearing a smile he hasn’t been able to wipe away since meeting you.

MASTERLIST

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Tag List: @linocz @queenmea604

xx

[itsmealaiah]

Hey! Could you do Tom and georg smut? Like georg walks in on Tom and gn!reader and georg has always liked reader but he’s about to get angry and Tom just smirks and asks if he wants to join.

(Again, only if ur comfy with writing something like that, love the work💕💕)

aw thank you!

I want that too

tags/ warnings: threesome, g/n reader x georg and tom, smut

MDNI (don't like please don't leave hate)

pairing: tom x georg x g/n reader

Georg's POV:

My heart was pounding. I stood in the doorway of our apartment, my eyes wide and my mouth slightly agape. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. There was Tom, my best friend lying on the couch, his head leaned down in ecstasy as he moaned into the neck of the person beneath him. It was the person I'd been crushing on for months; the person who had caught my eye from the moment we met.

And here they were, tangled up in each other, their hands exploring every inch of skin that was on display. I felt a strange mixture of jealousy and arousal course through my veins. I knew that Tom and y/n had been close, but I had never imagined they were this close.

Tom glanced up at me, his eyes glassy with lust, and smiled. "Hey Georg, I didn't hear you come in." He reached out to pull y/n closer, their hips grinding together in a familiar rhythm.

I felt my cheeks flush and my heart race even faster. I wasn't sure what to do or how to react. Part of me wanted to leave, to pretend I hadn't seen anything, but another part of me couldn't tear my eyes away from the scene before me. I had never seen Tom like this, so uninhibited and passionate.

And then, as if sensing my presence was making him uncomfortable, y/n pulled away from Tom and sat up, adjusting their clothes. "Georg, I wasn't expecting you to be here," they said, their voice shaky. "We can… I mean, we can…"

Tom looked at me over their shoulder, a mischievous grin spreading across their face. "Go on, y/n. You were saying?" he prompted, arching an eyebrow.

I could feel my anger rising as I realized that Tom had known I was coming over, that this had all been some sort of game to them. I opened my mouth to speak, but Tom cut me off. "Or maybe you should stay, Georg," they said, their voice softening. "Maybe you'd like to join us."

My anger gave way to confusion. I glanced from Tom to y/n, trying to decide what to do. I hadn't expected this reaction from either of them. Tom's words hung in the air, taunting me, as if daring me to make a decision. And as I stood there, caught between anger and desire, I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be a part of this…

"Are you sure, Georg?" y/n asked, their voice barely above a whisper. "We can stop if you want."

Tom reached out, running a finger down my cheek, and smiled reassuringly. "It's up to you, Georg. We're both here, and we're both willing. The choice is yours."

My heart raced as I considered their words. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so desired, so wanted. And the way Tom was looking at me… I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. "Okay," I heard myself say, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I'll stay."

Without another word, I moved to join them on the couch, feeling self-conscious about my own nudity as I undid my pants. But as I slid in between Tom and y/n, their bodies pressed against mine, I forgot all about my inhibitions. Their hands found my skin once more, exploring every inch of my body, and I felt a shudder run through me.

Tom leaned in, their lips finding mine in a slow, passionate kiss. I moaned into his mouth, tangling my fingers in y/n's hair as they began to grind against my hip. It felt so good, so right, to be wanted like this. I reached down and gently stroked Tom, feeling his hardness pressed against my thigh.

As Tom continued to touch and tease me, y/n leaned forward, their mouth finding my nipple. They circled it with their tongue, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I gripped the fabric of the couch tightly, trying to steady myself as my senses were overwhelmed by the sensations. The feeling of being so desired, so wanted, was intoxicating.

I glanced over at Tom, watching as they watched me with such intensity. Their eyes seemed to bore into my very soul, holding me captive. I felt a sharp pang of desire deep in my core, and without thinking, I reached out to touch them as well. My fingers found their way to the waistband of their underwear, tugging gently before pulling them down.

As I was reunited with Tom's hardness, I moaned loudly, arching my back against them. Their hips began to move in perfect rhythm with mine, and I could feel myself growing closer and closer to the edge. I looked over at y/n, hoping they would understand that I was ready, that I needed them.

They must have seen something in my eyes, because without hesitation, y/n leaned forward once more, their mouth finding mine. Their tongue danced with mine, and their hands found my skin, guiding me higher and higher. I could feel myself getting closer, the tension building inside me, and then, finally, I exploded in a wave of pleasure that seemed to consume me entirely.

As my breath began to steady, I looked up at Tom, his eyes still glassy with lust. I felt a strange sense of pride and accomplishment welling up inside me. We had shared something incredibly intimate, something that I had never expected to share with either of them. And in that moment, as we were all tangled together on the couch, I realized that I didn't want it to end.

y/n smiled at me, their gaze softening. "You were amazing," they murmured, reaching up to stroke my cheek. "Both of you." I felt a blush creep up my neck at their words, but I couldn't help but return their smile.

Tom shifted slightly, leaning in to kiss me once more before sitting up and retrieving a condom from the end table. I watched as they rolled it onto their hardness, the familiar motion sending a shiver down my spine. They turned to face me, their eyes meeting mine in the low light of the living room. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" they asked, their voice rough with desire.

I nodded, feeling a mixture of anticipation and nervousness in my stomach. I had never been with a man before, let alone one as experienced and confident as Tom. But as they positioned themselves between my legs, I couldn't help but feel a sense of trust and safety. He took my hips in his hands, guiding me back onto his length, and I gasped as they slowly sank inside me.

The sensation was overwhelming at first - a strange mix of pain and pleasure that left me breathless. But as Tom began to move, his body sliding against mine in a rhythm that was both familiar and new, I found myself becoming more and more lost in the moment. I wrapped my legs around his waist, arching my back to meet each thrust, feeling the tension building inside me once again.

"That's it," y/n murmured, leaning in to kiss my neck. "Let it happen." Their words were like a whispered incantation, a promise that everything would be okay. And as Tom continued to move inside me, their skin sliding against mine, their breath hot against my ear, I found myself surrendering completely.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensations that were coursing through my body. The rhythm of their hips, the heat of their skin, the way they seemed to know exactly what I needed. It was a dance unlike any other I had ever experienced, a dance that was as much about trust and connection as it was about desire and lust.

I felt a shudder run through me, starting deep in my core and radiating outward in waves. Tom's movements became more urgent, more demanding, but somehow still gentle and controlled. I arched my back, meeting them thrust for thrust, wanting them to feel how close I was, how much I needed this.

And then, as if in some perfect synchronicity, we came together. My body convulsed around them, and I felt a rush of warmth spread through me as my orgasm crashed over me in a wave of bliss. Tom's cries filled the room, their body tensed as they found their release inside me.

As the aftershocks faded away, I lay there, panting, my heart racing. I felt a strange sense of peace wash over me, as if the intensity of what we had just shared had somehow reset something deep inside me. I looked up at Tom, his eyes still glazed with satisfaction, and knew that this was not something I would soon forget.

y/n smiled down at me, their expression soft and tender. "You were amazing," they whispered, running a gentle hand through my sweaty hair. "You're incredible." I felt a blush creep up my neck, but I couldn't help but return their smile.

[peakyltd]

New Endings - Part 3

Part 3 | Tommy Shelby x reader

A/N: Well this is posted later than I intended but I was struggling with this one and after working a little bit too long on it, idk what to think of it anymore 🥲 Anyway, I hope you'll still like it!

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injuries, mentions of domestic violence/abuse.

Word count: 5.4k

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

Tommy held his aunt's displeased gaze, if her angry tone didn't already gave away how she felt, her eyes would for sure. "Did you forgot who her fiancé is? Who says we can trust her?"

"It's (Y/N), Pol." Tommy's toneless voice objected, not impressed by Polly's words. "You think people won't change? It’s our company that’s connected to the house, it’ll become a fucking target." She confuted.

Tommy had gathered Polly, Arthur, John and Michael for a family meeting in his office in Arrow House. He had enlightened them on the new situation and found details about David. Much doubt arose when he announced that (Y/N) stayed at the old family home, mostly from Polly who questioned her intentions or that from her fiancé.

“Ah c’mon Pol, d'you really think she’d try anythin'?” John turned in his chair to look at his aunt, his eyebrows furrowed. Not believing (Y/N) would have any intentions to screw them over.

“She won’t.” Tommy interrupted them as he leant back in his chair. He hadn't expect the backlash he just received, assuming they would all just accept it. The words of his aunt lingered in his head, maybe he was taking a risk but at the same time he didn’t believe (Y/N) would go against him. Not in the state he had found her in.

“She stays there. I’ll find her a home in the meantime.” He looked at each of his family members, a dominant look in his eyes, a sign that there was no room for negotiation. Something that didn’t work well on Polly. “You’re blinded, Thomas. Remember how it worked out for you the last time.”

Tommy clenched his jaw at her remark, annoyed that she brought up his late wife and the way she had lied to him. Despite the betrayal it didn’t stop him from loving her and forgiving her. Something Polly never did.

“I’m helping her so that bastard doesn’t kill her.”

Michael cleared his throat, the tension between Polly and Tommy was clearly palpable and it made him feel uncomfortable. “With who is David involved with?” He wondered, recalling the information Tommy gave them earlier. “I don’t know yet.”

“We’ll keep an eye on that bloody bastard, right Tom?” Arthur looked at his younger brother, showing him that he got his back. “We do.”

Polly shook her head. “Isn’t this place big enough?" She referred to Arrow House. "You have plenty of space for a guest.”

“She felt safe at Watery Lane.” Tommy directed his attention back to his aunt. Polly narrowed her eyes. “That’s what she tells you.”

Tommy sighed as he kept his gaze on her. “Thank you all for coming.” His brothers and cousin got up to leave the office together, unlike Polly, who remained in her chair with her arms crossed.

“You’re dismissed Pol, free to go.” He bossed her while he put his glasses on his nose and took a folder with documents from his desk.

“You wouldn’t let her stay here, do you?” Polly sneered at him. He looked up over his glasses. “I wouldn’t want to give off the wrong ideas now, do I?”

A humorless laugh fell off her lips. “Please, Thomas don’t-“ Tommy slammed the folder on the desk, making Polly slightly jump at the sudden noise. “Listen to me, eh?! She's no bad news. We’ll go see her tomorrow and you’ll see with your own bloody eyes what happened. I’m not fucking stupid Pol.”

Polly let the silence after Tommy's finished sentence surround them for a moment as she stood up. She walked over to his desk and leaned over it, pointing her finger in his face. “You don’t realize what you got yourself into.” Her eyes were boring into his, showing him that she meant it.

Rays of sunlight streamed trough the small gaps of the curtain, touching (Y/N)'s face in a kind way. The soft light slowly awoke her from her peaceful rest. She snuggled into the blanket as she opened her eyes, carefully taking in her surroundings. Her mind took her back to the events of the day before, just like it did during the night until exhaustion took her into it's arms and gave her the rest she so desperately needed.

The room felt safe and if she could, she would lock herself in there so she didn't have to worry about anyone. Unfortunately things weren't that easy and she had to prepare herself for her new future, something new and unknown.

She sat up and put the pillow against the metal bedframe. While she got comfortable, she looked around the room. It was exactly how she remembered it, the flower pattern on the wallpaper, the chair next to the bedside table and the tapestry that hung next to the bed. It was as if the younger versions of both her and Tommy could walk trough the door at any moment. The sigh that left her mouth was slow as she reminded herself of easier times.

She got up and changed into the dress that Tommy had left for her before opening the curtains. The sky had replaced the somber grey colors for a calm blue one, clouds were dappled here and there. Golden threads of the morning sun directly shined into the bedroom, a smile tugged on the corners of her lips as she looked outside. It felt as if this was nature's way to tell her that she made the right decision. Or well, she would like to believe it was.

She turned away from the window and left the room to make her way downstairs where she got herself a cup of tea. The kitchen didn't offer her the same safe feeling as Tommy's bedroom did, making her feel like some kind of intruder in a place where she shouldn't be.

She looked up at the clock on the wall, no idea on what to do next. Her belongings were not with her, she didn't dare to set a foot outside and she didn't know when or if Tommy came back today.

The sound of footsteps made her snap out of her thoughts as her heartbeat exceeded. "Good morning, love."

"Polly..." She breathed out the visitors name while she tried to keep her composure, knowing her voice had probably betrayed her already. She hadn't expect to see Tommy's aunt, at least not yet. "Good morning."

"It's been a while." The dark haired woman looked at her as a small smile played on her lips. While she eyed the younger woman in front of her, she let Tommy's words play trough her head again. He was convinced that they could trust (Y/N) however there was something that didn't sat right with her.

"It is." (Y/N) returned a small smile. "Would you like some tea? I just made some." She asked Polly, her hands trembled slightly while she put her cup on the table.

"I'll get it myself." Polly answered before taking off her coat and hanging it on the rack. "How have you been?"

"Well..." She let her hands rest on the back of a chair that stood by the table. "I'm alright."

"Alright?" Polly filled a cup and turned to face her. "If you were alright, I don't think you would be here." She pointed out while she sat down at the table. "I-"

"Please take a seat." Polly interrupted her, directing her with her eyes. Her gaze did not leave the woman in front of her until she sat down. "I heard you were engaged."

"I am. For a while actually." (Y/N) confirmed while she twisted the ring around her finger. She felt her palms getting sweaty, unable to tell why she felt so nervous all of sudden. Polly had always been good to her and they got along from the moment they had met.

Polly sipped on her tea, letting the silence linger for a while before she spoke up again. "You're living in London now?" (Y/N) nodded in response. "Yes." She wasn't able to stand the long silences Polly used after her answers. "It's been very different from what I was used to."

"Better?" The older woman asked her. (Y/N) shrugged. "In some ways."

"I think London is convenient for your fiancé's work, isn't it?" Polly's head was slightly tilted backwards as she looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, (Y/N) broke the eye contact and looked down at the table. "It is. Easier for the distribution of the car parts."

"I see." Polly noticed that the behavior of the woman in front of her was different, nothing like she had remembered. She noticed the bruises in her neck and on her arms, which she had tried to cover up with the dress she was wearing. Her confident appearance was replaced with fear and shame. "And now you're here."

(Y/N) felt Polly's gaze almost burning into her skin. Her questions made her wonder what else she knew about her life or David's. She just nodded, thinking about a way to tell her without making it too complicated for herself. "I couldn't take it anymore." Her voice was soft, almost too scared to admit it.

"Tommy told me." Polly's expression softened as she started to feel pity for her. "I didn't expect him to help me." (Y/N) dared to look up at her again as she heard a soft laugh coming from her mouth. "He's full of surprises lately."

The sound of the front door alerted both of them. She felt her body tense as she looked at the opening that led to the small hallway where a familiar man had showed up.

"Did I miss the tea party?" Tommy's low voice filled the room while he walked in, giving his aunt a stern look.

"You did." Polly shot back at him, unfazed by his attitude. "Very eager to come see her, eh?" He sneered, annoyed by the fact his aunt didn't listen to him. "I thought she'd like some company." Polly fake smiled at him, knowing exactly how to push his buttons.

Tommy took his cap off and put it on the table in front of him before sitting down. "Would you like some tea?" (Y/N) questioned, already getting up to get him some.

"No. I won't be here long." He leaned back in the chair, looking at her the way Polly did, waiting for her to sit back down. "Oh, okay." She sat back on her chair. "I guess you've already discussed a few things?" Tommy asked, referring to Polly's early visit.

"We did." Polly answered before drinking some of her tea. "Good." Tommy redirected his attention back to (Y/N). "We might have a house for you, it's not much but it's safe. You'll be able to move there in a few weeks."

"A house? Tommy..." While she was lost for words, she tried to let the new information sink in. Tommy took a wad of cash out of his pocket, shoving an amount of it, her way. "This is for food and clothes. Finn can get you some groceries." He assured her while glancing at his aunt who's dark eyes were almost burning holes into his skin. "And I'm sure Polly wouldn't mind to buy you a few dresses."

"No. No I can't take this." She pushed the money back to him. "You did enough already, I don't even know how I have to pay you back." She was taken aback by his gesture, it was way too much.

"You don't have to pay me back. Just take it." He shoved it back to her way, putting the rest of his money back in his pocket. "I know it's not the same as your belongings but this is what I can do for now."

"Oh no... Please don't worry about it. I'm... I just don't know what to say." It didn't felt right to take his money. She wasn't sure if it was because it came from Tommy or that things just went way too fast but either way it made her feel uncomfortable.

"You don't have to say anything. It's yours." He assured her while he got up, grabbing his cap off the table. (Y/N) looked up at him, shaking her head. "I can't-"

"You can." Tommy put his cap back on his head. "Can I at least invite you dinner for tonight? I can't just take it without doing anything back." She offered, it was the least she could do.

He looked at her in silence while blinking a few times. "If you insist." She nodded. "I insist. 7 PM? "

"I’ll see you tonight."

Plates were neatly put across from each other and the bottle of whiskey was already waiting to be opened. Food was almost finished and even though she was a bit late there was no need to hurry since there was still no sign of Tommy.

Knowing he was always on time, she started to worry. Maybe something had happened to him or maybe he changed his mind about the dinner. But if it was the last thing, he would’ve let her know. Right?

She cleaned her hands after she turned the stove off and peeked trough the window. The streets were pretty calm, except for a few people here and there but none of them was the one she was looking for. She decided to wait a little longer and sat down at the table, opening the book Polly had brought her, along with her new clothes and groceries.

It was a welcome distraction for the time she had to kill because much later than expected, Tommy finally entered the house.

She put her book down and looked up at him. "Is everything alright?" She asked him while he took off his cap and coat and sat down at the table. "Everything's alright." He looked at her when she gazed quickly over at the clock. "A little inconvenience at one of the factories." He added, addressing the fact why he was late.

An embarrassed feeling went trough her body when she noticed he caught her looking at the clock, not wanting to give him a feeling as if she was anxiously waiting for him. "Oh, no don't worry. I already thought that it had something to do with... business." She half lied, leaving out the fact that she was worried.

Tommy nodded as he observed her, noticing her new dress and the make up she was wearing. "I like the dress." He boldly told her, making her smile in response. "Thank you. I like it too, Polly got exactly what I wanted."

"I'm glad." He replied as he watched her get up. "You must be hungry." She assumed when she got his plate and took it to the stove. "I made roasted chicken and baked potatoes with cheese."

"It smells nice." He admitted while she put his plate back in front of him. She opened the bottle of whiskey and poured him a glass. "Thank you."

When she got herself a plate as well and had poured herself a glass of wine, she sat across from him. An uneasy feeling crept up on her, it felt weird to have dinner with him after everything that had happened. The only thing that made her feel better was that he didn't seemed as tensed as he was that morning.

"I hope you'll enjoy your meal." She politely smiled at him as she cut a piece of her chicken. "I think I will." He responded before taking a sip of his whiskey.

"Were you able to get some sleep last night?" Tommy wondered, he had noticed that she looked less exhausted than the evening prior. "Yes, a bit but enough to feel better than yesterday."

He nodded as he calmly ate his food. She eyed him carefully, becoming more aware of the things she had already seen in The Garrison. The tired look on his face and the lack of happiness in his eyes were a big contrast to what she had remembered. She thought back at the words he had said to her in the pub, their kiss and how she hit him after. She had felt a yearning to go back and undo what was done. What she did was equally as bad as the things David did.

"I'm sorry." She blurted out, earning a confused look from Tommy. "For what?"

She looked down at the table, feeling insecure under his intense stare. "Hitting you. You know... at The Garrison. After you-." She stammered, feeling stupid that she wasn't able to get out one proper sentence.

"It was very painful, y'know." He deadpanned. She looked up at him, a hint of guilt in her eyes until she realized he was joking. "I'm serious Tommy." He leant back and took a sip of his whiskey. "Me too, that ring hurts."

She parted her lips to speak up but didn't know what to say. A small smile appeared on his face. His attempts to be funny didn't gave her the chance to explain her feelings. "I felt really bad."

"Don't." He assured her, his way to ease her feelings. "You're not angry about it?" Tommy shook his head. "No, 'm not."

She was relieved that he wasn't mad about what she did although his short answers didn't gave her full satisfaction, wondering if he maybe didn't want to talk about it. While Tommy continued eating the food she made, she wondered if the silence had become a family thing since the conversation with Polly wasn't really flowing either. "So..." She awkwardly started, trying to bend the conversation into a different subject.. "How's the family been?"

"Good." He put the cutlery down. "Arthur got married, John became a father again, Ada and Finn are doing well." Her eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" She marveled with a small smile on her face. "That's great news."

"I guess it is." Tommy filled his glass with whiskey once more. His comment made her wonder what he meant but she decided to leave it. "Finn must've changed a lot."

"He did grew up, yeah."

"I remember I caught him smoking when he was just a little boy." She chuckled softly. "Probably wasn't the first and the last time." Tommy snorted lightly as the corner of his lips turned slightly upwards. He couldn't keep count on the numerous of times he had caught the young boy with a cigarette in his mouth.

(Y/N) shared a little more about her memories of the Shelby's as it seemed to be the easiest way to make a conversation with the one in front of her. While they finished their dinner and drank some more, he attentively listened to her stories.

"Well, I think I'll have to thank you for dinner, eh?" Tommy had turned his chair to look at her while she was doing the dishes. He had taken his suit jacket off, leaving him in his dress shirt and vest. "You're not staying for a drink?"

"I've already had a few." He stated as he saw how her lips turned into a smile. "I can get you a glass of water." Her witty comment made him think of the many she used to make all the time. "I'd rather not."

While she dried the last plate, she turned to look at him. "Then at least stay for one more?" She asked him. Despite their dinner starting off awkward, she ended up enjoying it and she wouldn't mind to chat a bit more. "Alright then."

Once she finished, they both moved to the small living room where they sat across from each other. The fireplace warmed the room and a few candles were spread trough the place, the flames glowing on their faces.

"The whole house is exactly like I remember it." She giggled, the wine had given her a little more confidence but also helped her to feel at ease. Tommy looked around, nodding his head slowly. "Not much has changed."

"It's weird to think about how it looks like time stood still while everyone's lives has changed so much." She concluded as her eyes fell on a picture of the three brothers, Tommy was no older than 19. Tommy's gaze moved to the picture before looking at her. "Everyone's lives or our lives?"

(Y/N) turned her head to meet his eyes and shrugged, not expecting his question as it seemed he wanted to keep a distance in every conversation that night. "Both, maybe." Tommy swirled his whiskey in his glass. "Do you think you'd be still living around here, if you didn't meet David?"

She thought about his question. "Maybe, yes. I don't think London is where I belong." She pulled her knees up and let her legs rest on the sofa she was sitting on. "It's too busy, I guess. The people are different as well."

"How did you meet him?" Tommy asked while he leaned his arms on the chair, curious about how she met him. "At a party, in a club. Also in London." She took a sip of her wine. "A friend invited me. He was there with a group of his friends and he came to the rescue when some Italian was bothering me." She smiled at the memory. "We hit it off pretty well and it turned out the Italian was friend of his who had a few too many drinks."

Tommy nodded once more, replaying the words in his head. This could be information that would help him find the missing link he was looking for, it confirmed his suspicion.

"For how long have you been engaged now?" He continued asking about her relationship. "6 months. He promised he'd do better so I said yes."

"But he didn't." He concluded. "No." She looked at the fireplace as she thought about the past few years. "For how long have you been married?"

"A few months." (Y/N) saw Tommy's eyes change, although his expression remained the same. "Did you love her?"

"I did." He sighed after he finished his whiskey. "Yeah.."

"I'm sorry Tommy." She immediately apologized. She didn't want her curiosity to be the reason behind a ruined night as it appeared to be a sensitive topic. He shook his head, his eyes finding hers again. "No, it's okay."

They both remained silent, thinking about their lives and how things could've ended so differently. (Y/N) decided to get up and get herself another glass of wine. She passed the chair where Tommy was sitting and gently took the glass out of his hand. Their fingers touched briefly, sending a kind of warm sensation trough his body. He looked up at her, her eyes meeting his as they locked their gaze for a moment. His electric blue eyes stared directly into hers, just like they had done many times before. A familiar feeling found it's way in her stomach before she looked away. "I'm- I'll get you a new one." She mumbled before making her way to the kitchen.

Her heart was beating faster as she leaned against the counter, not fully understanding what her body tried to tell her. While she took the time to get herself together, she decided to just blame it on the alcohol.

When she returned with their drinks, she found him smoking in his chair while he let his head rest on his other hand. His eyes were staring at the table. She stopped in front of him, getting his attention as he looked up. “Are you okay?” She asked before handing him his glass.

He blew smoke out of his mouth while he sat up. “I am.” Her hand found its way to his cheek as she gently stroked his skin with her thumb, a way to comfort him. Their eyes finding each other again while she continued. He had missed the genuine and gentle touches of solace. The contact of her skin on his, made him crave for more. Just as he wanted to lean into her touch, she pulled her hand away. Taking the comfort only she could give, with her.

She hadn’t expected to be so drawn to the urge to touch him. Usually she wouldn’t dare and she wasn’t even sure if he was okay with, although his intense stare almost assured her that she was doing something right. The increase of confidence from the alcohol was helping her more than she realized, it could be a good time to use it while it lasted.

“Can I ask you something?” She sat back on the sofa as she watched him finish his cigarette. “You can.”

“Did you mean it what you said? That the ring on my finger should’ve been yours?” Tommy blinked a few times before nodding slowly. “You know I did.”

“Then why did you let me go in the first place?” She let her fingers slide over the stem of her wineglass, the wait for his answer forming an unknown feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Because this life’s not a life where you belong. We'd be better off without each other.”

She remembered the countless arguments that started that last conversation which broke her heart. She didn’t want to give up on him, on them but he forced her to. He forced her out of his life as if it was nothing, as if she was nothing but just an erased memory.

She remembered the evening he told her it was for the best if they didn't saw each other anymore. It was for the best he said but in the end nothing turned out for the best.

She remembered how he told her how life was going to be from that moment, that she had no choice if she stayed but that the exact life within her choice, wasn’t one she belonged to. His words were harsh and his demeanor was cold, as if he didn’t want to understand her feelings or might as well pretended that he didn’t. Only to make it easier for himself.

She remembered how she called him a selfish bastard, how she hated him and how he just stared at her, saying nothing.

“You could’ve protected me and still let me live my own life.” Tommy shook his head as stubbed out his cigarette. “You hated how there were people always watching you, remember the many times you told me it was suffocating you? It only became worse after that, you wouldn’t be happy.”

She couldn’t deny the suffocating feeling it gave her, knowing that everywhere she went, there would be someone watching her. Good or bad, it didn’t matter. But she loved him deeply and a part of her didn't care anymore, as long as she could be with him. “I loved you, do you realize that?”

He sighed softly at her words before taking a sip of his drink. “You think I didn’t love you?”

“No… not the way you left me heartbroken with a shit explanation in the middle of the same fucking kitchen we just had our dinner in. If you really loved me, you would’ve listened to me but you never did.” Her words held the anger she had for years but still came out calmly. "And don't even get me started on how quick you fucking replaced me, that's not love."

Tommy clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I listened (Y/N). I always fucking listened but I knew it would never make you happy. I never would. And talking about replacing, eh? I fucking told you I didn't replace you. Have you forgotten how I went looking for you after you left?"

She scoffed as she listened to him. “Oh yeah, because you were so sorry. So sorry for yourself, that you ended up alone again." Her voice became louder, just like the anger within her. "If you really wanted to find me, you would. Just like a few weeks ago."

"You didn't want to be found." He defended, getting annoyed at her accusations. "Not after what you did, no."

He shook his head as he put his glass on the table, a little harsher than expected. “You wouldn’t be happy but I wanted you to be.” He pointed his finger at her. “I didn’t want to throw away the years we had and I didn’t want to break your fucking heart but I knew how much you loved your fucking freedom and I didn’t want to be the person that would take it away from you.”

She looked at him, his words hitting her in a way she didn’t expect. His voice was strong and determined. She wasn't sure if it was anger or not. “You were always that strong, independent woman. Always out there to do whatever you wanted. Who the fuck was I to take it away from you, eh? You know it would’ve made you unhappy. Love wouldn’t have changed that.”

“I still am.” Her words sounded soft as she disagreed with his statement. “What?” His eyebrows furrowed at her comment. “I’m still the same woman. You said were.”

“Please, have you looked…” Tommy didn’t finish his sentence, instead he took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. Her body tensed and her eyes narrowed as she waited for to finish his sentence. “Have I looked, what?”

“Have you looked at yourself?” He continued his abruptly stopped sentence. He sat up straight, his voice picking up the same tone as before. “You’re far from that. The woman I knew would’ve dared to yell in my face if I deserved it, she would speak up when no one else would and she wouldn’t take shit from anybody.”

(Y/N) gulped at his words, tears brimmed in her eyes as she kept his gaze, listening to the other things he had to say.

“The woman in front of me is a ghost of all of that. The spark in your eyes is gone and all I see is fear. You changed in the worst way and it’s because of him. He fucking ruined you (Y/N).”

She sniffled softly, as she tried not to break down in front him. He was right.

Tommy's eyes did not leave her frame. She tried to take a deep breath, ready to speak up but she couldn't. He moved to the edge of his seat to place a hand on her knee, squeezing it gently.

"You're nothing better." She choked on her words as she watched his thumb moving in patterns over her knee. "I would've ended up the same as I stayed with you." Of course he wasn't the same as David but her life wouldn't have looked much different than from what it did now.

Her mind took her back to David who told her so many times how much he loved her. Who always made it up to her after his outbursts, telling her how sorry he was and that he would do better. He did, even if it only lasted for a few days until he fell back in old patterns. Despite it all, she still loved him, or at least she thought she did. Perhaps it could be the fear speaking, that when she told herself she didn't, he'd come find her.

Tommy shook his head as he felt himself losing his temper. There were many people who held grudges against him and those also brought many accusations however being compared to David was something completely new.

"If you ended up the same, then please enlighten me on the last time I caused this." He grabbed her arm and lifted her sleeve a little harsher than intended, revealing her bruised arm.

She gasped and looked up at him with widened eyes. "Stop, Tommy." While he let go of her arm, she quickly pulled her sleeve down. "I never laid one single finger on you, now tell me again that I'm nothing better than that fucking bastard!" His voice was harsh and full of bitterness. "I don't understand why you keep fucking defending him while nothing like this looks like the love you've been desperately looking for."

She watched him get up and looked up as he towered over her. His words hitting her like he hoped they did, an attempt to wake her up and make her realize what she was doing.

"If you want to go back to him, then please go but remind yourself that if you stay with him, you'll end up six feet under within a year. And he wouldn't even be sorry."

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think!

Taglist: @cyphah @kissforvoid @liter4ti

[stardustloserdoll]

helloo i don’t know if you write for georg (or gustav) but i wanted to request a fic where the reader is tom and bills younger sister and she’s been acting different but she’s secretly dating georg and one day everyone is hanging out and tom is really suspicious on how their acting and when everyone leaves georg sneaks in and as their making out tom bursts in and goes overprotective brother mode and is trying to basically kill georg for “dating with his dear little sister” but in the end bill calms him and they end up approving the relationship

omg this is so long i’m so sorry :o if you can’t get to this i understand and hope you have good day !!

(also you writing is amazing hand in marriage rn 😾⁉️)

-🪄

i also write for them too!! i don’t just write for bill and tom! i know i haven’t written anything for georg and gustav yet, but feel free to send some !! i hope u have a great day too and thank you😭‼️

hidden love

female reader

“y/n are you listening.” tom snapped his fingers in front of my face breaking me from my staring.“what’s up with you? you’ve been out of it lately, and you’ve been staring at georg a lot lately.” tom leaned back on the couch crossing his arms raising an eyebrow at me.

“what? i’m not.” i said crossing my arms glancing at georg, seeing him look away from the tv to look at me sending a smirk my way.

“i’m going to get a snack.” i said raising my voice making sure georg heard me. they all nodded their heads, their eyes glued to whatever was on. as i stood up and began walking, i later heard footsteps behind me as i walked into the kitchen.

i leaned back on the kitchen counter waiting for georg to come in. once he came in i smiled putting my hands around his shoulders. “hey.” i whispered leaning in to kiss him.

“you remember our plan right?” i said running my fingers through his soft hair. “of course.” he laughed as he pressed his lips back onto mine quickly. “we should get back so it isn’t suspicious.” i said pulling away from the kiss, making sure to slam the fridge loudly.

i walked back into the living room holding a soda sitting down next to bill, georg entering after taking a seat next to gustav. “what took you guys so long.” tom said opening his bag of chips stopping mid way.

“i just realized we didn’t have any more sodas so georg helped me get them from the garage since they were somewhere high.” i responded opening my soda. “you could’ve asked one of us.” tom said munching on his chips glancing at the both of us. “you guys weren’t doing anything were you-“ tom began.

“i think gustav and i are gonna call it a night.” georg said as he stood up picking up his jacket.

“aw man okay, let me walk you guys out.” i quickly said putting down my drink walking behind. “i’ll see you later okay?” i whispered to georg as i placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

walking back to the living room i gave a fake yawn stretching. “i think im heading to bed guys. night.” bill stood up shutting the tv “yeah me too, i need my beauty sleep.” tom sat there his arms crossed as he watched us “i guess I’ll go to bed too.”

we all said good night going into our rooms. i sat on my bed until i heard 3 knocks on my window knowing it was georg. i walked over to my window opening it letting him in. “hey sorry you had to wait in the cold.” i whispered closing the window once he came in. “it’s okay i was in gustavs car anyways.” he laughed going to lie down on my bed. i followed lying down next to him.

“i hate having to keep this a secret. i wanna hold you and kiss you without being all secretive.” i pouted lifting a hand to caresses his cheek. “i know but you know tom will freak out.” georg whispered running his fingers through my hair. “well we are alone..” i smirked leaning in to kiss him.

“hey y/n you forgot your-“ tom barged into my room freezing in his place. georg and i pulled apart “TOM KNOCK.” i yelled rushing over to push him outside. “WAS THAT GEORG KISSING YOU?” tom yelled as he tried to push through me to get to georg. “HES MY BOYFRIEND.” i yelled seeing tom’s face visibly getting angrier.

“i knew something was going on! i can’t believe this you’re dating my little sister.” tom yelled as i tried to close the door in his face but he was pushing against it with force.

“what’s with all the yelling… fuck.” bill yawned as he rubbed his tired eyes seeing the scene in front of him. bill sighed “you got caught didn’t you y/n… i told you to tell him too.” bill said as he pulled tom off holding him in his arms.

“this is the reason why i didn’t wanna tell your crazy ass!” i yelled opening the door. “how long has this been going on?”

“a month.” the three of us said in sync as we stared at him. “come on tom! hes such a sweet guy he’s literally the best boyfriend ever.” i said wrapping my arm around georgs. “y/n’s my everything. i would never treat her bad.” georg said looking at tom.

“come on tom she’s not a little kid anymore, shes happy.” bill said as he released his grip from tom. “you’re right..but if you hurt her i will beat your ass.” tom said pointing his finger at georg. “deep breaths tom.” bill said dragging him to the living room. georg and i both looked at each other standing there in silence.

“now.. where were we.”

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part four] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (18+ mdni), menstruation

word count: 3.9k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

The rest of the boys were already in the kitchen making their own food and doing dishes when you and Jisung came in. 

“Look who’s finally awake!” Felix exclaimed and clapped his twin brother on the back. 

“It’s almost noon,” the tall one, Hyunjin, pointed out then smirked. “Long night?” 

Jisung gave him a look. “Jet lag, you idiot.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Give me a break, Jinnie, we’ve barely been here twelve hours.”

He held up his hands in surrender and leaned back against the counter. “Fine, I’ll save the harassment and embarrassing stories for when you hit the twenty-four mark.”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

“You don’t have to wait on the embarrassing stories,” you piped up, “I’m all ears.” 

Hyunjin traded looks with Jisung then glanced back to you and cracked a smile. “We can talk later.”

“I’m holding you to that because I have stories of my own to trade with you.”

Jisung looked at you with incredulous eyes. “My own girlfriend.”

“Sorry, babe, but your friends have valuable information and it wouldn’t be fair to offer them nothing in return for it.”

You touched his hand softly only for him to yank it away in mock betrayal as he slid past you over to the fridge. 

“Do we have eggs?” he asked as he surveyed the contents inside. 

“Minho just used the last two in his scramble,” the other roommate, Changbin, you assumed by process of elimination, said. 

“Bro, c’mon,” Jisung sighed and slammed the door shut. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d want them,” Minho apologized. 

“It’s okay,” you assured Jisung. “We can have cereal or something.”

“No, I’ll run to the store to get more,” Minho offered.

“I can go with you,” you added, earning a raised eyebrow or two from the rest of the boys. “There’s something I need to pick up.” 

“Okay,” he agreed and turned to the rest of the group “Anyone else want to come?” There was silence. “Alright, then it’s just the two of us.”

“Is that okay?” Jisung asked lowly, pulling you to the side. 

“Yeah, we don’t need to be together every second,” you reasoned. 

“Are you sure? I can go with you guys!”

“No, no, catch up with your friends. We’ll be back in a few.” 

“Okay, love you,” he said and kissed you chastely on the lips. 

It wasn’t the first time you and Jisung had kissed. You weren’t one to turn down a dare, which your friends knew and used against you, but there weren’t always stakes involved. On drunken nights neither of you cared to remember, in those early hours of the morning that followed parties or nights out… when it was just the two of you in one of your dorms rooms basking in the warm glow of alcohol, when everything still sounded muffled and your voices were shot from shouting for hours…

This felt different though. There wasn’t the same tenderness or hazy intimacy like there had been those other times. This felt forced, like he had something to prove. You hoped it wasn’t noticeable to the others.

You wrapped your arm around Jisung’s neck and turned to Minho. “You ready?” 

“Are you, uh, going…. like that?”

You looked down at yourself in confusion, realizing you were still wearing what you had worn to bed. To be more precise, you were still wearing the boxers that everyone probably thought were Jisung’s. Had you not learned your lesson after last night? 

“I mean, it’s cool if you are,” Minho continued. “It’s just the grocery store. I wasn’t trying to be- I was just wondering.”

“I forgot I was wearing pajamas,” you admitted. “I’ll go throw something on really quick.”

-

“You wanna drive?” Minho asked as you walked out to the car together, waving the keys in his hand.

“I… think that’s illegal.”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.”

You slid into the passenger seat while Minho started the engine and turned on some music. 

“Any requests?”

You shook your head. “I’m good with whatever.” 

You watched as Minho scrolled through his phone, picked a playlist, and put it on shuffle. A melody with low drums and heavy guitar started playing through the speakers. You didn’t recognize the song, but you liked it. It sounded like something you’d hear in an alt bar, or a grungy coffee shop.

“Are you all packed for tomorrow?” Minho asked suddenly, turning down the volume. 

“Yeah, I never really unpacked so…” 

“Right. Sorry.”

“I hope I have everything,” you added, trying not to let the conversation die. “It seems like every country has a different kind of outlet. It’s kind of hard to keep track of which adapters you need.”

“It fucking sucks,” he agreed. 

“You travel a lot?”

“You have no idea.”

“Is it for work, or for fun?” 

“Depends,” he answered with a shrug, “but mostly for work.”

You didn’t want to pry anymore than you already had or make it seem like you were interviewing him so you changed the subject. 

“Was your scramble good?” you asked.

“The one I made this morning?” Minho asked, looking at you as if it were the last thing he expected to hear. 

You nodded. “Yeah, was it worth it? Breaking Jisung’s heart like that?”

He burst out laughing at that, making you smile too. 

“It was totally worth it. Best egg scramble I’ve ever had.”

“I’m glad.”

Minho was still grinning to himself when he pulled into the parking lot a few blocks later. He picked a spot in the corner and backed into it. Show off. Maybe you couldn’t back into parking spots, but at least you didn’t make turns at forty miles an hour. 

“Fuck, did you have to park a mile away?” you groaned as you made the trek up to the grocery store’s entrance, struggling to keep up with him. 

“Sorry, force of habit.”

He slowed down to let you catch up and threw the hood of his sweatshirt over his head before shoving his hands in his pockets. 

The store wasn’t too crowded, at least by American grocery store standards. It looked like the regular weekend rush. Everyone was using their precious time off to check things off of their to-do list, living the corporate dream.

Minho led you through the bakery to the dairy section in the back. 

“How many eggs do you reckon we need?” he asked as he looked at all the different options. 

“However many it takes to make an omelet.”

“Do you know how many that is?”

“Nope.”

“Lovely.”

“I don’t usually cook,” you said defensively. “Even my instant ramen is just ‘meh’.”

“It’s a good thing you’re dating Jisung then,” he muttered under his breath. “Otherwise I’m afraid you’d die of starvation.”

“Hey, it doesn’t need to taste good. If anything, I’m resourceful. All I need to survive is tap water and a microwave.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve been microwaving your instant ramen,” Minho groaned, eyes widening when you didn’t deny it. “Have you been?”

“It’s probably better if I don’t answer that.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeahhh, that’s what your brother said.”

“Should we text him about the eggs? Since we’re obviously both clueless.”

“No, we can figure it out,” you insisted, “I can be domestic.”

Minho raised his eyebrows and stared at the ground. “I don’t know how long you guys have been together, but I’m sure he knows that’s a lie. I literally met you yesterday and even I know that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Okay, maybe I’m not the best cook, but I’m the best roller in our friend group. Better than Jisung.”

“Wait, Jisung smokes?”

God damn it. 

“Uh, no.”

“Damn, before college he’d never even tried it.” He grinned proudly. “You’ve really loosened him up, haven’t you?” 

You opened your mouth to answer and shut it again. You’d already said too much. “I wouldn’t say that it was all me…” you trailed off and glanced back at the display in front of you. “Anyway, about the eggs-”

“Oh shit, right.”

You’d been standing there for a solid five or six minutes and were no closer to deciding on how many eggs to get. 

“We don’t want to get too many because we’re leaving tomorrow… unless Hyunjin and Changbin would want the rest?”

Minho seemed to think about it for a second before grabbing a carton of half a dozen off the shelf. 

“They don’t eat a lot of eggs,” he explained, “but better safe than sorry. I don’t even want to know what Jisung would do to me if we came back with less than enough.”

You laughed and brushed him off. “Psh, he talks a lot of shit, but he’s a softie at heart.”

“Maybe to you.” Minho gently placed the eggs in the basket you were carrying and then put his hands in his pockets again. “What did you need to pick up?”

You had forgotten the entire reason you tagged along on the errand until he mentioned it. 

“Fuck, thank you for reminding me. I needed to get some pads.”

“Oh, okay. I don’t know where they keep those, but I’d guess they’re on the same aisle as pharmaceuticals and like soap and stuff?” 

The tone in his voice had changed a bit. Not in a way that was disgusted or embarrassed, but in a concerned, almost panicked, way. Like he was afraid you were about to bleed out and die in the middle of the aisle but was trying to play it cool. You thought it was endearing if not a little amusing. 

“Seems like our best bet,” you agreed. 

“Do you want medicine or anything else?” he asked once you’d found the right aisle and picked a pack of pads from a brand you recognized. 

“I have some back at the house, but thanks for thinking of that.”

“Yeah, I know it’s really painful for some of my co-st, uh, co-workers and I just didn’t want you to be hurting…” he trailed off awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. 

You smiled softly and followed him up to the check-out where you put the items on the little conveyor belt thing and grabbed a divider to put in between them. 

“Hey, put that back,” Minho said and leaned over your shoulder to slide the divider back onto the side. 

“You really don’t have to do that,” you protested as the cashier rung up both things. 

Minho didn’t even glance back at you before handing the woman his credit card. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I am worried about it.”

“This is saving time instead of having two separate transactions,” he insisted.

“I’ll pay you back in the car then.”

“No you won’t.”

“And why not?”

“Because these are like five pounds, y/n, it’s not a big deal.”

You sighed stubbornly. “Fine. But I’ll get you back. Eventually.”

Minho shook his head and gave you a smug look. “I’m sure you will.”

-

You thought Jisung had been joking when he told you that you could pick one of the places to go for his family trip, and you definitely didn’t think he had been serious when he said you could pick literally anywhere. But that was the rule, apparently. Everyone going on the trip got to pick one of the places that you’d visit, including girlfriends who happened to be tagging along. 

It was a good idea in theory, but in reality, it meant scrambling around international airports with no sense of direction. Jisung’s mom had the first pick, which meant the entire Han family plus you were huddled around an airport ticketing counter trying to arrange your travel to Paris.

“Is it going to be an overnight flight?” you asked Jisung. 

“Yes, baby. The flight is fourteen hours long.”

“Okay, well, I wasn’t thinking about that.”

He sighed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You were trying to get used to hearing your best friend saying things like that, but they still sounded foreign coming from him. To be fair, you had only been fake dating for a couple of days now, but you were supposed to be convincing everyone around you that you had been in love for months. You had thought it would be so easy because you already did love Jisung, just not like they thought you did. 

Jisung looked down at you when he felt you stiffen underneath his arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

Seeing as there were only three seats to a row, one of the four of you would have to sit with their parents while the rest of you played Bullshit with the deck of cards Minho had packed in his backpack. Felix made the sacrifice and opted out of sitting with you and his brothers so that he could get some work done free of distraction. 

“He’s only saying that,” Jisung said in a whisper loud enough for his twin to overhear. “He just wants to get out of playing with us because he’s a terrible liar and he knows he’d lose.”

“I’m not playing because I’m a gentleman,” Felix clarified. Jisung raised an eyebrow in amusement. “I wouldn’t want to sweep the floor with you in front of your girlfriend.”

“How noble.”

You stashed your backpack next to Jisung’s in the overhead compartment and took your seat next to him. Minho was sat in the window seat, smushed against the wall with his hood up and head down. It seemed like he did that every time he was in public. It was like he tried to become invisible. 

Jisung occupied the middle seat in between you and Minho. He talked to his older brother about plans for the trip as he absentmindedly played with your fingers that were intertwined with his. 

“Do you guys have any plans for the free day in Paris?” Minho asked. “I assume you’ll be spending it as far away from our family as possible?”

Jisung shook his head. “No, we don’t know what we’re gonna do yet. We haven’t had much time to plan with finals and all.”

“You should take y/n to that bookstore by the Seine- Shakespeare and Company, she likes to read right?”

“Yeah,” Jisung answered for you, unable to hide his surprise. “How did you know that?”

Minho looked over at you and grinned. “I could tell.”

“Fuck’s that supposed to mean?” you accused, leaning past Jisung to glare at his brother. 

“Nothing,” he said and held his hands up innocently, “I can just tell you’re well-read, is that such a bad thing?”

“No, there was a negative implication there, you were calling me a nerd, weren’t you?”

Minho glanced over at his brother for help, but Jisung just shrugged. “I mean, there are a lot of really good bars over there too… that you might also like.”

“Nice save.” 

“Awful save,” Jisung chimed in. “For what it’s worth, baby, I love that you’re a nerd.”

You yanked your hand out of Jisung’s and grit your teeth. “I see charm runs in the family.” 

“Awful save,” Minho mocked.

“I actually don’t need your help right now, Min,” Jisung snapped. 

“Oh come on, I’m a great wingman,” he insisted. “Remember when-”

“Let’s not bring up past dating stories in front of my girlfriend, yeah?”

“Wait, but I’m interested now,” you interjected, ignoring the look from your fake boyfriend. “Hyunjin promised me embarrassing stories and he didn’t get to tell me any. Let me at least have this.”

Minho traded a look with his brother before locking eyes with you and smirking. The plane started to move as he started to tell the story, and all three of you pitched forward from the sudden motion. You braced yourself against the seat in front of you with one hand and grabbed Jisung’s wrist with the other. He shifted so that you could hold his hand properly, fingers slipping between yours easily. 

“Sorry,” you whispered in embarrassment. 

“Don’t be. I used to be the same way on planes.”

“And how old were you then?”

“Um, six.”

“And here I am as a twenty-something year old-”

“Nope, none of that,” Jisung cut you off before you could finish the self-deprecating thought. He had a habit of doing that. Sometimes you found it endearing, other times it got on your nerves. You let it slide this time.  

You smiled at him gratefully and relaxed into his shoulder. His hair tickled your face as his shoulders rose and fell in time with his breathing. His hair was long enough for you to twirl around your fingers if you wanted to. He hadn’t let it grow out this long in a while, and it reminded you of your sophomore year of college. 

Back a couple of heartbreaks ago when your hair was short and his was long, when you both felt like you had finally gotten the hang of the whole college thing… you’d spent that Fall Semester laying on blankets on the green outside of the Dance Hall together, drinking spiked cider out of reusable water bottles as you spent what little pocket change you had betting on who could get more dancers’ numbers before the sun set. 

It had been a simpler time then, but that’s how it always goes. The stakes creep higher and higher without giving so much as a warning and suddenly you’re clocking in on a Monday morning at your corporate 9-5 gig, your diploma and your ambition sitting in a box somewhere in your apartment collecting dust.

“Fuck that’s depressing,” you mumbled to yourself and let the hand that had been in Jisung’s fall to your side. 

“What’s depressing?” Minho whispered, leaning across his brother to talk to you.

You lifted your head from your best friend’s shoulder and looked up to see him slumped to the side with his eyes shut as he breathed softly. You hadn’t even realized he had fallen asleep. 

“What’s depressing?” Minho repeated, nudging your knee with the back of his hand impatiently.

“Growing up,” you replied with a sigh. 

“Ah, yeah. Shit sucks,” Minho agreed. 

“Yeah I was just… bumming myself out over here. Feel free to join.”

“Would one of those stories you were promised help?”

You perked up at his offer. “Are you fucking serious? Are you actually going to tell me one? Don’t tease me, Minho.”

“I would never,” he scoffed, the grin on his face telling you otherwise. 

He glanced back at his brother as if to make sure he was still asleep before turning back to you. 

“Right, so a few summers ago when Ji was home from college, we were out at a pub near our place. And for whatever reason Jisung had ordered himself a couple shots of tequila-”

“Oh my god. I already know where this is going.”

“You do?”

You rolled your eyes. “Tequila always makes Jisung horny-” you explained, freezing when you remembered that you were talking to his older brother. You stared down at the floor, trying to recover. “It always makes Jisung make irresponsible decisions.”

Minho blinked at you and pursed his lips. You so badly wanted to tell him that you only said that because every time Jisung drank tequila he hooked up with somebody, not because you were the person he hooked up with. But you couldn’t. You had to let him believe whatever the fuck he had thought you meant because you could never seem to shut the fuck up. 

“It sure does…” he trailed off, eyebrows knit together in a mix of amusement and discomfort.

“Anyway, you were saying?”

Minho cleared his throat awkwardly. “So Jisung had downed a couple of shots of tequila, and I suppose he was feeling lucky, so he tried chatting up this girl-”

“Tried?”

“Yes, emphasis on tried. She had a friend, so he asked me to come over with him as well. And being the good big brother I am, I agreed.”

You narrowed your eyes. “The friend was hot, wasn’t she?”

“Fuck yeah, she was hot,” he admitted shamelessly. “But we go over there, and right away they’re not impressed. You know when some drunk assholes try and flirt with you at a bar and you’re just trying to have fun with your friends?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, we were totally those assholes. And to make it worse, we lied and told them we were students at the university across the street.”

“So they told you to fuck off?”

“No, when we told them we were students they were suddenly interested and wanted us to take them on a campus tour.” Minho sighed and shook his head at the memory. “So we did.”

“No you didn’t.”

“We did. I mean, we tried to. It started with pointing to random buildings and reading the names off of the signposts in front of them, and it ended with being escorted off of the premises by campus police.”

“What?” You blinked in disbelief. “What did you do?” 

“Nothing!” Minho insisted. 

“You don’t get kicked off a college campus for doing nothing!”

“Alright, we might have tried breaking into the science building to get to the rooftop greenhouse.” 

“I fucking knew it.”

“A friend of mine who actually goes to that uni told me about it! He said he always takes girls up there because the doors are always unlocked and it’s a cool place for a date, but the doors were not unlocked that night.”

“Did you set off an alarm or something? How did security catch you?” you asked. 

“They were walking by,” he said with a sheepish grin. “We were pretty wasted at the time so we didn’t hear them come up behind us.”

“Typical.”

“At least neither of the girls got in trouble. And Jisung and I were let off with a warning once we were escorted off the grounds.”

“I can’t believe Jisung’s never told me that story.”

“Probably didn’t want to ruin your romanticized image of him,” Minho suggested. 

“We were friends way before we started dating, I know way too much about Jisung to have had a romanticized version of him in my head.”

“And you still chose to date him?”

You laughed. “Love is weird, isn’t it?”

Minho cocked his head to the side. “You love him?”

You hesitated. 

“I- sorry if that’s too personal,” he added quickly and sat back up, increasing the distance between the two of you. 

“I do love him.”

The answer was simple, because you did love Jisung. He was your favorite person, He knew everything about you. You always swore that you’d find each other in whatever lifetime came next. But you didn’t love him like you were supposed to. 

“I’m glad,” Minho said. “He deserves it.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not going to have to go all Protective Big Brother on me,” you assured him. “I promise I won’t break his heart.” Because there’s no way I can. 

He gave a tight smile. “Whatever you say.”

Next to you, Jisung began to stir. He opened his eyes and stretched, using it as an excuse to wrap an arm around you like they did in the movies.

“Smooth,” you said as you rolled your eyes, leaning into him anyway. 

“What are you guys talking about?” he asked through a yawn. 

“You.”

“All good things, I hope?”

You suppressed a smile and glanced over at Minho who was shaking his head at you with wide eyes.

“Minho told me the greenhouse story,” you blurted, sending an apologetic look in his direction. 

Jisung whipped his head towards his brother and punched him gently in the shoulder. “Minho!”

“That was supposed to stay between us,” Minho groaned as he rubbed his shoulder. 

“Dick,” Jisung muttered.

“Hey, we’ve all been kicked off of college campuses by security before,” you reasoned. 

“We have?” Jisung asked doubtfully. 

“No, but I’m adding it to my bucket list.”

“Look what you’ve done,” Jisung said to Minho. “You’re a bad influence.”

“So I’ve been told.”

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[mjolnirswriststrap]

You’re The Reason I Smoke

_____________________

Summary- reader needs something to take the edge off, and doesn’t know super soldiers can’t really get drunk.

Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: smoking, alcohol consumption, Bucky roughly grabs your face, that’s all 😇

Masterlist

This is my first Bucky fic, so go easy on me, there will be mistakes, my only hope is that I get better with practice ❤️

Edit: I’ve fixed some things and found out there was a whole paragraph missing, do not copy and paste from notes app! 😂

You just wanted a quick drink of water from the kitchen, you didn’t expect him to be there, leaning against the counter. White tank top tucked into navy blue slacks, a black belt with a golden buckle shines at you. He was quite literally, halfway undressed, you couldn’t help but to glance at his arms, both stunning in their own way. You favored the left, the thought of what it could do was enough for you. These kind of thoughts are why you smoke, and you need to right now. Having fantasies about your coworker isn’t good for your health. You quickly grab a cup filling it half way: taking a sip before dumping it down the sink, walking out without interacting with anyone else in the room. Strolling out the front door of Stark tower, you spot your favorite green bench. It doesn’t have any particularly favorable qualities about it, except for Tom, the old man that sat himself there everyday, protesting everything Tony was doing. It had been a month and it didn’t seem like he was going anywhere so you made friends. An eyebrow raise and an offer of cigarettes was all it took for Tom to open up. After hearing him out, you kind of agreed with him and not your current boss.

Your eyes search the surrounding area and your smile falters. There’s no Tom, no sign saying “no more playing god”. Sighing, you sit alone, ripping open a new pack, sliding a single cigarette out instead of two. You feel around every pocket before you realize you left your lighter on your dresser upstairs. Which was weird since you always lay it on top of your pack. You look around seeing a newsstand that sells some basic necessities, down the street, behind some food trucks. You start to feel triumphant before you think about the fact; your wallet was also left on your dresser.

You tell yourself surely someone is going to be leaving soon and you’ll just wait and borrow a dollar from Nat, Sam or Wanda. As if the moment could be any worse, you see a wall of a man walk out the front door of the tower. Just the sight of him makes your nerves vibrate, you can’t decide if it’s a good or bad buzzing. You’re casual with each other, never too friendly and never unpleasant. To him and everyone else, you two were just regular coworkers. To you, you were the office crusher and he the brooding, well mannered super soldier, you’re crushing on. Maybe he’d be a nice coworker and lend you a dollar, or maybe he won’t and you’ll look stupid. Your brain continues to overthink as your feet take you to catch up with his large paces. It was a hike to get up to your room and having to come all the way back down just didn’t really feel worth it, so, humiliation it is!

“Hey Sergeant.” Bucky stops in his tracks, slowly turning around. Softly smiling when his eyes land on you, “Hey Птичка, what are you doing hanging around out here?”. You take a breath, processing him, processing the use of the Russian name he always calls you, Google can’t help you translate since you have no clue where to even start. He could be calling you dumbass, which is the most probable scenario in your mind. “I just came out for a quick smoke, and to see my guy, but he’s not here today and I forgot my lighter so I’m 0 for 2.” You scratch your neck, dryly laughing.

Bucky slowly shook his head up and down as you spoke, as if he was interested in every word you said, hopeful you say “I was wondering if you had a dollar I could borrow? I left my wallet upstairs and I really need a lighter right now. I will have one crispy dollar waiting for you when you get back,” you pleadingly look between his bright eyes, you finish your plea with a “, scouts honor.” And a look of seriousness. “You know, you really shouldn’t smoke those things, they could kill y’a.” Bucky says as he reaches into his pocket, handing you a 20 dollar bill. “That’s too much, I just need a dollar Bucky!” You say, shoving his hand back into his chest. “Well,” He smiles, grabbing your hand, putting the 20 in it. “, I dont have anything smaller.” You thank him, promising again to have his money waiting when he got back, not mentioning the slight scolding he just gave you. Your lung health seems out of ordinary for someone like Bucky to think about or even care for.

You hear a beeping sound coming from his pocket, without checking it, Bucky says “Sorry to cut this short but I really have to get going or I’m gonna be late.”, giving you an apologetic look. You shake your head no before words formed in your mouth “no of course, I’d hate to hold you up, got a hot date?” You shot off that last part without thinking, you internally scream at your attempt of small talk. “Something like that, Steve’s idea.” You die a little on the inside, the buzzing turning into a throbbing in your skull. You pray the obvious blind date fails miserably as you wave him off, watching his back as he walks away.

Briskly you make your way to the stand, purchase a lighter and go sit down on your bench again. Except this time, “where the hell did my cigarettes go?” You say patting your pockets looking around the bench.

_____________________________

Bucky watches from the window as you stand there in shock, wondering where Tom is. He flicks your lighter, open and then closed, again and again as he watches you sit down and fumble with the cancer sticks that have some sort of hold on you. He secures his tie before walking towards the elevator. Sure, Bucky had smoked once or twice at a bar when he was younger. But that was then, and now science knows what they can do to people, he knows what they could do to you. He didn’t care when other people smoked, just you. Bucky couldn’t wrap his head around it. He felt an instinctual urge to protect you from hurting yourself. Thank God you weren’t a field agent and he didn’t have to constantly watch your back when guns were involved. It would be a lot harder for him to conceal his minor infatuation with you. You run laps around his head, even as he’s making his way through the lobby and out of the tower to have dinner with someone else, a girl Steve swore was the one. He couldn’t blame his friend for trying to get him back out there, it had been 70 years.

He knows you won’t be successful in your little smoke break. Thanks to his lock picking, he held your silver zippo in his pocket as he nonchalantly walked out the front door, keeping his eyes to the right, purposely ignoring your burning stare. He didn’t expect to hear feet running up behind him, or hear your sweet voice. The sound of his title fell so easily off your lips. You were the only person who called him Sergeant, everyone else seemingly knew it was reserved just for you.

Bucky listened intently as you made a case for a dollar loan. He would give you a million dollars if he had it, he just didn’t know how to show it. Too thick of a skin had grown over his heart for him to be able to tell you how he felt. Not being able to deny you, he hands over the first bill he pulled from his pocket, taking the opportunity to distract you by grabbing your hand, his other hand slips the little cardboard box from your loose hoodie pocket. You don’t notice as he slides them into the pocket of his slacks.

He’s about to walk away when his phone beeps, signaling he was already late for his so called date. He would rather stand here talking to you all night. Wanting to end the night before it even started Bucky said his goodbyes, and was almost home free, till you said hot date. He couldn’t lie about this, so he assured you it was Steve’s idea. He played it cool as he walked away, but inside, he hated the way your face fell when he confirmed your suspicions. He could almost say, you looked jealous. He knows you feel something for him too, but without Bucky being able to tell you how he feels. It’s going to be a never ending loop of will they or won’t they.

_______________________

It was late, and Bucky still hadn’t come to get his 20 back. You knew the money was an excuse to go down stairs, light one up and wait for him to get back. You truly just wanted to know how his date went, would there be a second? Leaning against the brick wall you take a long drag as you pull your hoodie tighter around you.

Bucky turns the corner and sees you standing there, cigarette dangling between your fingers, you looked irresistible. Maybe it was the nightmare of a date, or maybe it was him clearing out the pub down the street of draft beer. He especially thinks it was the way your lips perfectly wrapped around the orange tip. He didn’t have much time to pin point a reason why before he sprung into action. He stalked towards you, you smiled, opening your mouth to speak but before you could say anything, he rips the cigarette from your hand, throwing it to the ground and smashing it under his boot. He grabs your chin, staring into your eyes. Your breathing matched each other. You didn’t pull away, you didn’t move yourself from his grasp, Bucky could smell the staleness on your breath, he was so close he could feel your deep gasps fan across his face “I don’t want to see you with those things again, got it?” He hides his real frustration.

You’re confused, one second it’s casual Friday with this guy and now he’s pressuring you to quit smoking in the horniest way possible. You shake your head, agreeing that you got it. You weren’t actually going to quit because he said so, but whatever got him away from you and kept you from doing something you regret. You could smell the alcohol on him. You knew he wasn’t in a right state of mind, maybe he just really hated smoking and cared about your well being, he just came on a little too strong due to the drinks. You’ve dealt with plenty of drunks before, so you decide to change the subject. You loosen yourself from him, careful not to push him away completely. “How was your date, Sergeant?” You ask innocently.

One word was enough. Bucky can’t take it anymore, still close enough to do the one thing that would convey everything he felt, he leans forward and presses a light kiss to your lips, quick and gentle, barely there. It was enough to cause all the buzzing inside of you to stop. Everything stopped, the cars passing, the traffic lights changing, pedestrians walking by, the low hum of people in their apartments. The world disappeared, and all you could see was Bucky standing in front of you. Before you could protest, refusing to take advantage of a drunk person, Bucky blurts out “You ruined it. All I could think about was you. Everything she said was wrong because she wasn’t you.”.

You’re stunned, like all the air was removed from your lungs, you know you can’t take what he says now for certain, but it felt good to hear it. “Would you rather it have actually been me?” You say feeling brave. Bucky breaks eye contact at your question. He doesn’t answer as he faces the ground and lets his hair mask his emotions. You take his face in your hand, mirroring your stance moments before, you lift his glassy eyes to meet yours. “Yeah.” Was his response after searching your sincere eyes. You were playing a dangerous game with your own heart. You knew whatever you got into tonight with Bucky, would be just that, tonight only. It would only lead to more heartache. You decide to be a good friend right now, not a coworker, not a peer, not a hookup.

“You look tired Buck, let’s get you up to bed.” You receive no response as Bucky just watches you, gauging your reactions to him. You smile lightly and gently tug on his arm “I’ll even tuck you in, if you make this easy on me” you say referencing the maze of a tower you have to drag a drunk man through. It earns a “deal” from Bucky, which is enough for you to start moving towards the door. To your surprise, Bucky walked fine, stood up straight the whole way up the elevator. No lost shoes or throw up like a normal person. He physically showed no signs of being drunk, but his words screamed to you that he was intoxicated.

You point to a door, silently asking if it was the right room. Bucky nods, procuring a key from his pocket. You take it from him, assuming he has no hand eye coordination in his state. You jimmy open the door and let yourself in, holding the door wide open for Bucky to stomp in and make his way to the bed. He kicks his shoes off, taking off his tie and jacket, he lays them on the back of a small chair in the corner. “You don’t have to tuck me in, I appreciate the gesture though.” Bucky says lowly, now avoiding eye contact.

Still reeling from the kiss downstairs, you don’t notice Bucky’s change of mood. Nodding your head you bid him goodnight. “Well, here’s your $20 back,” you reach into the slim, side pocket of your leggings, pulling out the promised crispy bill. Bucky doesn’t look up as you place the money on top of his nightstand, he’s too embarrassed. He never should have said those things. He let it bubble up inside and when it finally came out, it wasn’t the right words. Bucky knows his confession sounded harsh. He used to think maybe one day he’d get over himself and attempt flirting with you. But that mission failed before it began.

_________________

Jumping up in a sweat filled haze, you shake the sleep from your head, the dream had been too real, too detailed, and rich; sickeningly sweet. The movie that played on through the night was just a fairytale. It could be real, but it was all contingent on a drunk Bucky. You needed to ready yourself for work, checking your phone you see 7:34 glaring back at you. Since yesterday was a leggings and hoodie day, you figured you’d make yourself presentable for this Saturday morning. Your job in stark tower was an unexpected one, no one else ever had the job or ever will have the job, Tony and Pepper’s lifeline. Pepper makes sure Tony is sorted and you make sure Pepper and the avengers are sorted. You see things Earth’s mightiest heros wouldn’t want anyone else seeing. You wouldn’t say you’re an assistant, or a pr manager, a wrangler if anything. Covering up the red in ledgers, wild nights out, a 17 year old spider who should be in bed for school, the usual at the tower. So what you wore wasn’t really a topic of conversation, if leggings is what the woman with all the knowledge wanted, she’d get to wear them to her 9-5.

Today felt different, you wore a short feminine blazer with a long black pencil skirt. A creme colored chemise tucked behind a single hooked button of your jacket. You walk from your small 3rd floor apartment down to an elevator that would take you to the avengers common room, you would do debriefs at 8 every morning. It consisted of wagging a heavy finger at who embarrassed themselves the day or night before, reminding Peter that his homework is more important than finding bad guys. And today, it wasn’t subject to change. You walk into the room, everyone lazily strewn onto the couches. Pepper being the only presentable one besides yourself. You can feel a thickness in the air as you make eye contact with Bucky, an unspoken “we need to talk” passes between you.

“Good Morning Team, I just wanted to start this day off by saying, you didn’t do too bad yesterday, I’m almost impressed.” you say looking down at your data pad, checking off “introduction” on the meeting schedule. “Sam, you didn’t draw a crowd of fans at the veteran’s food bank yesterday! Gold star for you. Wanda, I know you’re just trying to help, but Ms. Rosita told you to stop trying to teach Carmen magic. She’s only 5.” You finish by giving Wanda a pleading half smile. Some of this stuff should be common sense, you think, as you check off things they’ve heard a million times. “And finally, Peter, mind telling the class why my eyes are on you?” You question, eyebrows raised. You tap your foot, waiting for his response. Peter sits there with his mouth agape, not knowing he’d already been found out. “I uh..I…” he looks around for help. You assist him, “I uh heard someone was being bullied so I webbed Flash to the basketball net.” You shake your head, you know he means well, he just doesn’t pick the best corse of action, every time. “I’m sorry Y/N, Mr Stark. I just couldn’t see Flash hurting people who don’t deserve it, no one deserves to be bullied.” You nod your head at him, “That’s very sweet Peter, but you can’t be a vigilante. I’ll call your Aunt later.”. He groans looking down, fully understanding “Yes, Y/N”.

You sign off on the debrief “well that should be it guys, don’t get into any trouble today, please, it’s bad enough I work weekends, make it easy on me” you giggle, obviously joking, you loved your job. You started making your way out of the common room, heading towards the elevator, you pressed up. Never fully accepting that you worked in the penthouse. you worked beside Pepper in Tony’s office, of course they wanted to keep you close, you knew too much. All it is, is a tiny desk in a corner that’s facing the wall, a modest studio on the 3rd floor, a company credit card and knowing things that could easily get you killed. It wasn’t all food banks and bullies. You sigh as the elevator takes longer than usual. Completely forgetting about Bucky, you’re taken back when he taps your shoulder. “Hey, could we talk?” You nod, stepping away from the elevator. “I just wanted to apologize for last night, I shouldn’t have done or said that. It was out of line.” You smile softly, listening to him. He was drunk so he has an excuse, the fact that he’s standing here practically begging for forgiveness melts your heart. “Sergeant, you have nothing to worry about, everyone drinks a little too much sometimes. You should just be thankful it was me out there and not a paparazzi.” You give him grace, letting him know there is no hard feelings. Bucky looks at you, still ever so confused.He thought the coddling was unusual last night, now he understand why, you thought he was drunk off of human beer.

“Wait Y/N, you do realize my metabolism is so high, alcohol can’t affect me? Maybe the mead from Asgard, but nothing from the pub down the street. I’m apologizing for grabbing you, for telling you what to do, for kissing you, but I’m not sorry for telling you how I feel.”

You’re left speechless at his confession, “I..I uh don’t know what to say.” Scratching the back of your head you kick your toe around trying to make sense of the situation. Before you could, you see a blonde head of hair making their way towards you and the elevator. “C’mon Y/N, you know Tony doesn’t like to wait.” Pepper says, only playfully scolding you. She pulls you into the elevator away from Bucky, before you could say anything she’s waving as the doors close “Have a good day Mr. Barnes.”. Pepper is oblivious to what she just ripped you away from. You couldn’t blame her though, you’d talk to Bucky after work, letting last night play over and over while you sat at your desk.

_________________

PART 2

[writingsfor-u]

Did you even care? ooc T.M.R x Fem!reader.

-summary - it was him who ended it with you but he cant get enough?Will he be able to mend the mess he made?Or is there no end to this?

-genre - angst

Warnings: No warnings (abit of harsh language but It'll be fine)

A/n : I had fun writing this and finally finished it after months of writers block 😮‍💨

(edited: I read this again , and I realised how corny this fic is 😭 edited some parts..maybe a whole lot , but hey atleast its not that corny..also proofread , and realised how many grammar mistakes and spelling errors there were) guys I do not know how much I edited this. I hated the way I wrote it. Changed some of the words and vibes. Proofread again because the last time was still bad. #helpme😔

proofread and edited- /Gif isn't mine/

_________________________________

you were having a heated argument with Tom again for the third time this week.

All the arguments for the past days have been on petty and stupid reasons.

One was because you forgot his prefect badge that he had asked you to bring to him when it was breakfast.

you were half asleep that time, so of course you had forgotten.

The second was because of a petty argument over some book.

and now this? because you had stayed in his room to wait for him?

Your Pov :

This is getting out of hand , why was he this mad? you already told him you were gonna be up here.

"get out y/n" Tom frustratedly ran his hand through his hair.

"what? I just dont understand, I already asked you if I could stay here so why are you so ma-"

"Get out of here y/n. Before I call salazar himself to escort you out." tom raised his voice with a cold tone.. narrowing his eyes in annoyance.

"fine." you say rolling your eyes at how childish he is being. Before leaving he tugged at the side of your robe.

"and to just inform you, whatever we have going on is done."

you stopped. Turning around to face him.

"what?"

"yes. you were simply just an experiment" he looked at you with a dead expression with his voice becoming flat.

you looked at him, tilting your head to the side, slightly confused.

"Have you ever cared?" you managed to say with a confused yet anguished look spread across your face.

"not one bit" he smugly smirked, his indifferent and apathetic behaviour did nothing but disappoint you further.

"i was seeing how people would react to what some call 'affection' and seeing how easy you get manipulated and how you obeyed me so much has made me realise love makes people weak and i dont have the time to feel weak"

you stared at him with a disgusted look, more disappointed than heartbroken. It felt like an insult that he managed to make you feel this way.

"Oh? really?..Well I hope you find peace in this.. honestly, Im not even surprised..just disappointed.. "

you said, clenching your jaw slightly..leaving the room.

Why have I trusted him? Knowing how he was, how he always has been. Have I been that naive to think that he could ever feel any other emotions other than hatred and anger?

_____________________________

Tom riddle's Pov:

I have now gotten rid of the pesky girl and now my life shall be at peace, finally. She can't even do simple tasks without messing up. What have I got to lose. She's nothing but a toy, a pawn.

She was useful then. I didn't need her to be a pest over my projects now.

______________________________☕

He hadn't even realized he fell asleep..he was just getting up from bed and had started getting ready for the day.

"hey y/n have you seen my tie?"

Silence

"y/n?"

his head suddenly rings and reminds him that he had been done with you..

a small o escaped his lips before he brushed it off.

How stupid of him to not remember such simple things..It was crazy to even think about it..really

____________________________☕

He sat at his usual spot with his so-called friends. but he felt a bit off..is that what to call it? perhaps not..

His eyebrows furrowed but brushed it off again, as usual.

"hmm..Riddle?"

Abraxas started, the look on his face completely spitting confusion..

"Where's your girlfriend?, is she sick? or unwell?"

What? why was Malfoy out of all people be worried about you? he has no right to be worried about you.

"for your information Malfoy, we are not together and never was"

Lestrange looked at him with an amused gaze, surprised that his friend would even have said that. He was clearly skeptical of his friends words.

"What do you mean by 'not together' Tom?"

He rolled his eyes, annoyed at how reluctant they were being in this foolish situation.

"She was just an experiment and was just a distraction to me, so i ended it. She was a good investment. And now I believe she has no use for me anymore."

"She? you mean..." Lestrange started, with a raised concerned eyebrow. "Y/n Y/l/n.. was nothing but an experiment?.."

"Yes. how many times do I have to repeat myself to you imbeciles?"

The two shared a look and their eyes turned to the lad once again.

"Riddle. Are you sure?" Avery said in a confused yet assertive tone.

"This may sound a bit.." He paused, letting the silence take over.

"Mushy and Lovey is what he meant. That's not the point here..We've seen the way you talk to her...moreover talk about her with us.."

Abraxas continued, now an apple in his hand..

"It's the way she has turned you soft , Riddle..no offense in any way shape or form."

He glared at them, not wanting to hear any of their nonsense that they were spitting out of their mouths. They knew nothing about you two.

"I'm not soft."

He started, his voice cracking making him cough.

"Sure.. believe what you want to believe mate."

______________________________☕

He was walking in the field after class to get his mind clear. When he saw a dandelion, he remembered how much you loved the flower. It was her favorite, he knew. Without even thinking, he plucked it out..planning to give it to her later in the day.

Some time later..He was heading back to his dorm, passing the common room. The flower still in his hand between his fingers.

"Did you get another girlfriend?" Avery asked, with a raised eyebrow.. teasing him?

"No? I was planning on giving it to-" He stopped himself. Pausing for a moment. Abraxad snorted, trying to keep in his laugh.

"See? smitten "

"Shove off Malfoy."

____________

a few weeks later

Wasn't this what he wanted?

peace and quiet? No one to worry about. No one to think about. No burden he had to keep.

he jumped on his bed and searched for warmth but there wasnt any..

he was confused..more irritated, his temper shortened..even if that was possible. And he didnt know why. He hasn't felt this way for months now, and it has now turned up again..somehow.

___________________________☕

It has been quite awhile since he had let go of her..

and now he's seeing her with someone else..does he really have the right to feel like this? no. Does he care? definitely.

Whenever he sees her with that boy..he couldn't help but feel a longing and pining emotion..he doesn't even know where he learnt to feel like this.

He somehow wonders how she's feeling..does she think about me alot? has she taken care of herself lately? Does she also feel this way?..

At some days..he sees y/n walking around the castle..smiling and laughing with her friends..oh how I missed her laugh , her voice..

"Tom are you sure you're okay? your studies have dropped and you seem to be declining"

His daze was interrupted by the voice of his friend. He met their gazes with a flat expression.

"What do you want?"

"We're just asking about you."

He furrowed his brows, confusion laid in his eyes.

"If it's about her. You should see and talk to her."

Avery said in an almost stern way before sighing.

They stayed silent for a minute.

"Why?"

"Why what? Riddle? look at yourself..god, what has happened to you?"

Abraxas said almost laughing at his friend's obliviousness.

"Go talk to her. Maybe not now but there has to be closure to this.. whatever crisis you're in."

_____________________________☕

He was now in his bed at three in the morning. It was now a habit for him to think about the 'what ifs' about you two.

he asked himself every day,

was it worth it?

is it worth it?

what can he do to fix this?

what if he never ended things with you? Were you ever heartbroken by this? What if he had just communicated with you? What if he never lashed out on you? What if he just wasn't a child made out of fake and unrequited love?

Can he ever know?

____________________________☕

morning has come and he was trying, yes trying to find a good way to talk to you or just have a small interaction with you.

and he is now again with his friends in his room pacing.

"what are you doing Riddle?" abraxas asked. Clearly annoyed at how Tom had woken them up at dawn, hours before classes started.

"He's obviously going through a mental breakdown internally."

He rolled his eyes at avery's joke yet not really taking it into heart.

"It would rather be kind of you to stop saying such idiocy to me."

"Just, go talk to her"

no

"pardon?"

"Talk to her"

"How?"

Silence

"You're really asking me that?"

_____________________________☕

your pov🤗:

something hit your shoulder or someone and they dropped something.

oh!

It's a journal.

"hey um you dropped this" not looking at the person who dropped it.

and when you met his eyes, annoyance grew in the pit of your stomach.

oh. it was him, as you tried telling yourself that you didn't care and just act as if nothing has happened between the two of you.

"oh, hello Riddle, fancy seeing you here." you looked at him with a small polite smile. You didn't want to come off as rude, despite what has happened in the past month.

"hello. Thank you for this book, i- uh"

"Well if that is all, I better get going now" you say trying to avoid him and his words.

"wait y/- , y/l/n could we maybe talk?"

this is what you've been avoiding but of course fate had to be like this. With reluctance and hesitation you agreed.

"Sure, be quick. I don't have all the time in my hands."

"Of course, I suggest somewhere more private?"

You nodded with pursed lips, crossing your arms as you followed him to the come and go room or the room of requirements as you liked to call it.

as soon as you get there, a door appears and he holds the door for you.

once you stepped inside the room, you were in awe, the room was beautiful but that was besides the point.

"so?"

"y/n i wanted to speak with you about this for a long time now. That night, the night-"

"tom plea-"

"no. y/n please, listen to me just this once" he says with pleading eyes. He was truly trying to communicate with you. He wanted to apologise for what he had said and done.

you gulped down your pride and nodded, keeping caution.

"my dearest, y/n I wanted to tell you how I never meant for this to happen, maybe you won't ever forgive me. Because my reasons won't ever justify my actions towards you or the things I have said to you that night or week. And I just wanted to let you know I regretted everything. and this doesn't mean you have to forgive me"

"It's funny actually, how I realized I cared about you more than I thought, more than I actually think I can , You know how my all my silly giddy or romantic memories only content of you. like the day when you asked me out to go to hogsmeade with you as a date and I was confused on why , mostly beacause you are the most beautiful girl i have ever laid eyes on. I was even more confused with myself , when I came , but that was the best decision I've ever made. Oh and do you remember last winter? you threw a snowball at me and yelled something abt how i wasnt a good enough thrower to hit you with a snowball"he chuckled at the memories flooding in

you let out a small laugh remembering too

"you remember when we had our first kiss together as boyfriend and girlfriend?" you looked at him wholeheartedly

he smiled and looked down " of course i do , my love' how could I ever forget? that night i completely melted and maybe it was just me but I felt something Ive never felt with anyone else. I missed you and still do , I missed us the most , the little notes , the karaoke nights with only you singing , you dragging me into the rain just to dance in it , the glances we sneak to each other, the peaceful warm nights , you have bewitched my heart and soul, you taught me how to love and care , and mostly how to be loved and cared for , all I am asking is that could we ever go back to what we had?" he finished with tears in his eyes

"tom riddle , I love you with my whole heart , but I cant go back there , those words you said to me that night hurt me , that night where you swore you never cared , I lost a little of myself and you know I cant do this to myself , not after that" you say with teary eyes

he smiled at you , tears falling on his cheeks

"Thank you dear , for your time just know you always and will have a place in my heart , can i have the last kiss before we part ways?"

you smiled and leaned in for the last time ever , the last kiss.

"you too tom"

maybe in another lifetime?

_

[userholland]

you're in love

it's your friend's wedding and you're not sure what to get her and the groom for their happy day. luckily, your date and best friend, tom, helps you choose something nice but you never knew how picky he could be about kitchen supplies.

PAIRING: tom holland x fem!reader

GENRE: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (?), purely fluff, wedding date!

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

A/N: this was a blurb request, but i added more than i thought i would so, i'm just posting it as it's own thing. it's short, sweet and to the point, honestly, but don't we need that sometimes. i know i havent written anything in a while too ): but i have a college!peter fic coming very soon!!!

𑁍 masterlist 𑁍

Christmas was only a few weeks away, and that meant everything was flying off the shelves from Black Friday and regular early shopping. Just when you thought most of your list was checked off, your friend's wedding gift sadly became a last-minute thought.

Due to your busy schedule, both work and paying off bills, on top of Christmas, you forgot about the wedding gift. You hadn't realized how many people bought out kitchen appliances for their loved ones. Even a simple cheese grater or egg beater... all gone.

"What about a salad spinner?" Tom asked, his eyes narrowing at the tiny print on the huge box.

You arched your eyebrow, "Was that on the list?"

"No, but it's a cool gift. They're salad people."

"What exactly is a salad person?" You giggled, glancing at the other kitchen supplies on the shelf.

"The future Mr. and Mrs. Henderson..." Tom trailed, showing you the salad spinner.

You rolled your eyes before putting it back on the shelf, and Tom crosses his arms. You knew that he wanted to get this over with, but he knew how much it meant to you.

He sighed, "What about... a set of wine glasses?"

"Think bigger, better, more sincere." You smiled, using your hands to emphasize your spirit, "God, I feel terrible I forgot until now."

Tom scoffed, "Well, who plans their wedding two days before Christmas? You should get them a calendar instead because－"

"Tom!" You yelped, "No time to be funny."

"This is a perfect time to be funny. It's distracting you from being stressed."

You could roll your eyes again but instead, you nudged his shoulder with yours, "Thanks for coming with me and being my date. I just－ I feel like I've been so caught up in everything. Like... like－"

"Being in a salad spinner?"

"Actually, yeah. Weirdly." You huffed.

Tom stopped you, "Okay, okay, I was joking." He grinned, "But, all we need is to get some kind of great gift and then we drive up to the wedding in a few days. So, we're focusing on the gift part."

You appreciated Tom being able to help you refocus, it's like a quick reminder to tell you to slow down and that not everything has to be a race.

"Alright. Yeah, I got this."

"You got this." He chuckled, putting his arm around your shoulders, "Okay so... what about a cheese grater?"

♡ ♡ ♡

The day of the wedding was near, and your suitcase felt like it had shrunken in size overnight as you tried to push down the top. After no budging, you sat on top of it and yanked on the zipper.

"Is wrapping it in Christmas-themed paper okay? or like it's a gift someone got one of us we didn't want?" Tom asked, coming from your apartment's living room and into your bedroom.

Ironically, you both decided on the salad spinner after running around the store for about an hour. It was a mixture of exhaustion and a bit of hopelessness to find the 'perfect gift'.

"I think it's pretty. It's not like it's not Christmas." You grunted, trying to jerked the zipper once more.

"Let me help you before you pull something other than the zipper." He jeered, putting down the gift before walking up to you. He easily pulled on the zip and ran it around the entire case.

You tilted your head at him, "Okay, you don't need to show off."

"With strength like this?" He smiled, flexing his right bicep but you playfully hit his arm as you slid off the top of your suitcase.

You walked over to your desk, admiring the wedding invitation you received months ago. The beautiful lace borders and the couple's names perfectly written in calligraphy.

"Do you think getting married is as... glamorous as everyone makes it. I can't even think about what I'm gonna wear most days let alone plan an entire day about myself." You smiled to yourself, imagining wearing a veil and what flowers you'd hold.

Tom's light brown eyes shifted, smiling because of your smile, but he nodded, "You'll know when the day comes. I bet you have ideas already... like from when you were a kid." He trailed as he sat on your bed.

You sighed, "Well, I always wanted a long dress. Not one of those puffy ones and maybe, something corny like... doves." You shrugged, sitting next to him.

"Color for the bridesmaids?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I can't choose that now and whatever I pick will probably be awful..." You both shared a laugh, "Those dresses are always bad."

"Well, I'm always here to help." Tom grinned, your shoulders touching as you shared a look to one another.

Little did he know, you had a quick image of him being the one you meet at the end of the aisle.

And little did you know that he could see you walking down to him.

♡ ♡ ♡

At the resort, you and Tom shared a room for the weekend. Right when you got to the room, you had to prepare for the wedding that evening. As Tom was getting changed into his suit in the bedroom, you closed yourself off in the bathroom with your dress and makeup.

"Do you have the gift?" You asked Tom, your voice muffled behind the door.

"Salad spinner is right by the door."

"Oh God, don't keep reminding me we got that." You groaned, putting in one earring.

"I take pride in it since it was my idea." Tom smiled as he made sure he looked put together in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his curls before hearing the door open, sneaking a peek at your final look in the reflection then, turning around.

"Don't gawk like that, but I picked this out with the bride. Today isn't about me." You grinned, a heat hitting your cheeks as you felt Tom's eyes on you.

The dress was floor length, basically a gown, and a blueish grey. You pinned your hair back, out of your face and your eyes were emphasized with a light color over your lids. Tom knew you were beautiful, but he didn't think you could be anymore ethereal.

"No, no, you look... beautiful." Tom nervously chuckled, "Amazing." He added, putting his hands into his pants pockets.

"Well, you don't clean up so badly either." You turned to him, gently adjusting the knot in his silk tie. His eyes shifted, softening as he watched you fix it.

You looked up, your eyes sparking, "Alright. Let's get going."

♡ ♡ ♡

After the ceremony inside the lodge, yours and Tom's hearts felt heavy. You both sat next to each other, not saying much but in awe of everything regardless of all the jokes you made for the whole week.

As everyone transitioned to the reception, light snow began to fall down while guests walked to the tent outside. You and Tom were linked arm in arm, and entered the warm, beautifully lit tent.

Everyone settled in and you and Tom sat at your assigned table with other couples. After denying a few times that you two weren't together, it was becoming very apparent that it was like a sign.

After watching everyone start to dance, you couldn't help but look over at your friend, the bride, and her new husband happy and spinning on the dance floor.

"What? Are you looking for our gift in the piles of gifts also wrapped in Christmas wrapping? I was surpised, honestly." Tom joked, patting your hand.

"No, no. I..." You trailed, rubbing the back of your neck, "Look how happy they are. I hope I'm that happy... with someone that loves me."

You couldn't help but feel a shiver run through your spine from the sudden confession, but Tom began to stand up. You tilted your head up at him, "What are you doing?"

"Do you wanna dance?" He smirked, putting his hand out.

You glanced at his hand, then him, and back at his hand. You decided to take it like it was some leap you were risking before falling right into his arms.

As Tom escorted you to the floor, you squeezed his hand tight before putting your arms around his neck and his hands falling at your waist.

You both swayed back and forth as the soft music continued on, mixed with laughter and talking. You couldn't help but nuzzle your head against his shoulder when he pulled you closer, your nails grazing his back. It was like being in a moment, and you wish you could take a picture to remember it.

Once you pulled back, looked into Tom's eyes as he looked into yours. There was tension－ like a bomb about to drop at any second. Tom felt your hand card through the back of his hair, the two of you even swaying slower.

Before you knew it, your noses brushed against one another's and your lips softly pressed when they met in the middle. At first, you froze, and so did Tom, but once the fuzzy feeling set in, you moved your lips for another kiss. You could feel Tom's small smirk, and he had to remember to take another breath.

When you pulled away with your goofy smiles, Tom tucked your hair behind your ear before you said, "I'm really glad you were my date."

He chuckled, "I'm not just good for gift-picking, I guess."

[it-happened-one-fic]

Dancing with Visions - It Isn't Unusual - Charleston - Venti

Author Notes: I forgot how difficult it was to write the Charleston and writing it with Venti (a character I have written very little with) made this doubly hard. But that's what I get for randomizing the matches between characters and dances. I wrote this fic will listening to the song "It's Not Unusual" by Tom Jones. The performance in this fic was inspired by a couple Charleston by Sondre and Tanya, viewable here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmY_QNOFvRY. Just like the rest of this series, reader is female. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more of this series, the fics can be found here: Dancing with Visions Masterlist.

Type: Female reader/ dance/ fluff/ platonic or romantic/ sfw

Word Count: 1036

Realistically speaking, I should have known something was going to happen when Venti, of all people, sat down next to me on a bench despite the festival that surrounded us. Because, for Venti, festivals were important. He could make a lot of easy money, get people to buy him drinks, and have a generally good time without anyone to really scold him about his alcohol intake. Because, bluntly put, a festival in Mondstadt always meant alcohol.

So for Venti, who could be argued to be the man of the hour, to abandon the festivities and instead sit with me on the sidelines was odd.

Even more so, though, I really should have known better than to accept his excuse that it wasn’t unusual for him to sit with ‘someone as dear as you’ as him flirting and taking a break from the celebrations.

I did, however, recognize my mistake for what it was when Venti’s hand crept over and across the bench to where mine rested. But that was far too late for my realization, though, considering I was barely able to even look down at where his fingers toyed with mine before I was being yanked up to a standing pose.

“Venti,” Despite his behavior, I found myself chuckling out his name as he looked at me with bright eyes.

“Come on, a day like this is made for music and dancing. Not for sitting off to the side all by your lonesome,” He pulled me further away from my now-abandoned seat and closer to the dancing people.

I grinned at him, tilting my head at the flirtatious young man, “Then shouldn’t you be playing music?” 

At my words, he grinned and shook his head, bowing at the waist as he gestured off towards the side at Six-fingered José, “A gentleman such as myself knows when to let others have their moment in the spotlight.”

I snorted at his words but shook my head. Surrendering easily to the grinning young man,  “Alright, one quick dance.” 

He looked all but diabolically pleased with himself as he twirled me lightly so that I was facing him, with my back to the crowd of dancers, as he interlocked our hands, “How does the Charleston sound, my lovely lady?”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t really complain as I laughed at him, “Figures you’d like a dance as fast as that one.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, causing me to laugh as he started to sway with the music, “Is that a yes?”

I nodded in lieu of responding, only lagging slightly behind him as he started dancing before I was matching his kicking motions perfectly. Grinning despite myself as we shifted around, trading off on who leaned backwards as our feet hit the ground in time to the upbeat rhythm of the music around us.

I could hear others laughing around us, and some even started clapping, making room for us as we danced. Matching the festive atmosphere perfectly as Venti’s sparkling, laughter-filled eyes continued to hold mine.

He pulled me towards him, and I laughed as we collided before I leaned back, letting him whirl me in a rapid spin before I was lowered once more so that I was in a limbo-esque position.

He tugged me back up with a carefree laugh, twirling me so that our bodies were parallel to one another with our arms extended across each other’s backs so that our hands could stay locked together.

Our footsteps clicking against the cobblestone path melded with the applause that clapped along to the beat of the song as we continued to dance. Spinning around so that we were facing each other and trading off on which side our arms were locked as we kept up our kicklike footsteps.

I was laughing out loud right now, knowing perfectly well that I’d lost to both Venti and the festival’s atmosphere of joy. Which was precisely what  the bard had wanted.

Because that was just the way Venti was. Always pushing me to relax and join in on his playful actions, even if I was usually more likely to sit off to the side and watch others’ celebrations.

I suppose that when it came right down to it, he simply couldn’t help himself.

He spun me out as the song ended, keeping a hold of my hand as he turned and walked with me away from the crowd of dancers who kept on going without us. 

“There. One dance, as promised,” I smiled at him, half out of breath from both having laughed quite so much and the raw amount of energy I’d just exerted.

He grinned back at me, tugging a flower out of one of the bouquets that filled the streets and holding out to me as if he were a magician who’d just whisked the blossom out of thin air.

I glanced smilingly at the Cecilia bloom before accepting it, causing his smile to only widen, “And I do thank my lady.”

I laughed slightly, shaking my head fondly and sitting back down on the bench before blinking in surprise as the bard sat down next to me, “You aren’t going to rejoin the festivities?” 

I leaned towards him almost worriedly, but he only shook his head. That usual smile of his on his face as he leaned towards me as if he were mirroring my motions, “I told you, it isn’t unusual for me to want to spend time with someone as dear as you.”

I blinked at him, twirling the flower in my fingers lightly as I held his wide-eyed gaze, “It is when there’s booze to be had that you aren’t going after.”

He pressed a hand to his chest, looking at me with a faux hurt expression, “If I leave you, you won’t be protected, and someone else will come by to make you dance with them!”

I hummed in response, not believing him in the slightest but opting to stay silent as I looked back out at the crowd. A slight smile on my face as I leaned relaxedly against Venti.

After all, it wasn’t unusual for me to be pleased that he was staying with me rather than leaving.

If you would like to read more:

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[victoriablyth]

pov: you're tom blyth

word count: 1198 letting everyone know this was a small thing i wrote for my english tutor! the prompt was to write about switching bodies with someone and how it would affect you and i decided to write about being in tom blyths body. but theres a twist. this pov is from someone who has NO IDEA about tbosas. i hope you enjoy this!! this is just a goofy thing i wrote <33 warning: its a lil bit cringy...kinda idk JUST READ IT. lmk if you want part two (might have spelling errors n shit sorry!!) Sunlight met my closed eyes. I could feel the warmth of the dim beam that crawled it ways out of the blinds. I slowly rised from the quilt that wrapped around my body all night. My eyes were still drowsy, still forcing my eyelids to shut, as I stretched. I clambered out of bed, still feeling lethargic. I rubbed my eyes, my hands more coarser than before. The shape of my face felt weird, it didn’t feel like it was my  face. As I fully opened my eyes, I look down to my hands. Long and pale, clearly weren’t the complexion it should be. The nails weren’t painted mars black like before. I put my hands to my cold cheeks. I could feel a short stubble growing. ‘What the hell?’ I mutter to myself. I then I realise something else. This wasn’t my room. I started walking toward a small door that likely led to a bathroom. I was right. When I turned on the heat bulb, the amount of luminosity blinded me for a second. But after my eyes adjusted to the lighting, the first thing I saw was my reflection. Or, it was the body I lived in. I was my celebrity crush, Tom Blyth. My piercing blue orbs widened in bewilderment. I stumbled back and I bumped  into the glass door that led to the shower. I slapped myself so I could wake up, I thought  it was a bad dream. But the burning sensation that was left after the slap felt real. It felt like I experienced the slapping in real time, not in a dream. Why is this happening to me? I pondered, as I gazed back at the body I was now using as a vessel for my soul. ‘Tom?’ A young female vocalized from outside. I didn't realize that she called  out to me until she faintly knocked on the door. I scrambled quickly out of the bathroom and opened the door. As I swung open the dainty white door, I saw one of my most favorite actresses of all time. ‘RACHEL???’ I exclaim, my eyes tried not to tear up as I absorbed her angelic presence. ‘Hi…Tom…’ She said, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. I forgot I was now Tom Blyth. ‘Did you forget to set your alarm to 4am again? We have to shoot scenes.’ Rachel continued, her tone serious. I nodded aggressively, and Rachel looked as if she witnessed a UFO fly over a wheat field. ‘Are you ok Tom?’ Rachel muttered. ‘Uhhh- nah I’m all good!’ I said, with a sheepish smile. Her eyes glare in dread as I showcased my pearly whites in an uncanny manner. I exited the caravan, and hopped in whatever direction that felt right. It was of course the opposite direction of where we set up for the shooting.

…

“TOM!” Francis scowled. I twisted my head towards Francis, the director of the movie I'm in, The Ballad of The Songbirds and Snakes. My lips curled in irritation, my annoyance now at the highest level it could possibly be. Before I thought about what I was about to say, the words spewed out like a volcano that vomited lava. `I AM NOT TOM OH MY DAYS BRO!’ I blurt out, my eyebrows knitted tightly in vexation. The whole room went silent. I was gagged, I once again realized that I am not in my own body, I am in Tom Blyths. “Uhm, well, I mean uhhh…what’s good France?” I said, doing that awkward grin I was doing the whole day. “Please don’t call me France.”  Francis said, his tone flooded with disappointment. “It’s your scene, Tom,” he continued. He awkwardly waddled off to his director's chair. Everyone gives me the same look of concern that I have been receiving for the past two hours. I slowly struted towards my scene partner, I tried to look confident. Josh Andres, my scene partner, awkwardly smiled at me. As I stood in front of the camera, he put his hand on my shoulder. “Tom, are you good?”. I look at Josh, with a stringy smile embroidered on my face. “I’m all good, I’m fine. No need to worry.” I responded. Josh looked at me confused, but then the lights were set. Cameras started rolled. A loud ‘ACTION!’ was heard from the producer. We’re filming already?!  I whispered to myself. I didn’t read or scan through the script, and I didn’t even know much about my role other than his name being Cornelius or something. “Coriolanus!’ Josh said, his face now in bewilderment. I stood awkwardly as I stared into his deep brown eyes which were now filled with desperation. He wanted me to say something. “Yes sir, I am Coral Anus” I say, trying to sound as sane as possible. Obviously, my improv did not go well. “CUT!” Francis said. Josh’s face twisted into distress. “Tom, we have been practicing this script for months, and you reply to my line with CORAL ANUS?” He splurts. “Yeah isn’t that my character?” I say, still smiling. “NO! YOUR PLAY CORIOLANUS!! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” He continues. His face now in fear, as if saw his bestfriend die right infront of his eyes. “Ok, Tom, please tell me you are joking.” Francis exclaimed. Francis then adverted his gaze towards the crew. “Somebody pass Tom the script, he’s forgotten the lines.” …  As the cloudy night sky loomed over us, so did frustration. Josh shoved the muffin into his mouth. The curls that had once been done with the most finest moose, were now frizzy and tangled. Rachel sat motionless, staring outside the window. The air felt silent in small caravan. All the crew members were asleep, and it was just us three awake. I stretch my arms out, the fabric of my baggy pajamas letting me move freely.

“97 takes…” Josh said. His eyes had bags, dropping down while his eyebrows looked like they were magnets trying to connect. “97 GOD DAMN TAKES JUST TO FILM A SMALL INTERACTION BETWEEN ME AND HIM!!” He exclaimed, scrunching the muffin wrapper that laid in his huge palms. Rachel looked at me like she had just seen a deer in front of her headlights. “Are you really Tom? What’s going on?” Rachel spoke, as she bit through her apple. I couldn't detect whether she was being sarcastic or not. “Well..my pet-” I looked back down into Tom’s phone, scrolling through his photos, until I see a parrot. Me, or Tom was holding the green parakeet with a huge smile. “My parrot died.” I mutter, as I tried  to conceive fake tears in my eyes.

I shove the picture in Josh’s face, covering my eyes and making crying noises.”Tom, that is my parrot you’re holding. Remember when you came to my house? You held Barnaby?” Josh responded, as his irritation turned into fear. I stared back, the room now felt awkward with the pin drop silence. “Cig break guys!” I exclaim, and I slowly slither out of the room. “TOM YOU DON’T SMOKE!”

The first four hours of being in his body has certainly been a terrifying experience for everyone.

[purplebass]

Deal With It - Thomastair

Hey all :) this is the third Thomastair story featured in my collection of self-indulgent fics. This is also set post CoT, and Thomas and Alastair have to dog sit Oscar for a few days. I wanted to write this for Alastember @alastair-appreciation-month because last time I posted my fic, I forgot to tag the blog 😅

Read on A03 💜

“Remind me again why we agreed to this.”

Alastair frowned at the big golden beast flanking his left side. To his annoyance, it was walking between him and Thomas, and wagging its tail. 

He had to admit Oscar had an air of elegance about him. Sometimes, it even reminded Alastair of his owner. But the graceful dog was still splashing muddy water all over the bottom of his pants and polished shoes, and it irritated him. He couldn’t blame the retriever, though. It rained cats and dogs the night before, and Hyde Park bore the signs of the downpour even worse than the city streets. He will have to deal with it.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Because we are good friends,” he answered with a smile, but Alastair scoffed. 

“He asked us just to spite me,” Alastair said, pretending to be bothered. “He probably hopes his dog will make a mess of our house and aggravate my mood.”  

Thomas could tell he wasn’t being serious, but he still nodded. Alastair knew that Oscar was a great and quiet dog. “That’s definitely why he asked us to keep Oscar for a few days, definitely,” he said. “He couldn’t take him to the salon shows in Paris. Animals are not allowed.”

“Why should he go to Paris to get clothes? There are competent tailors in London,” he looked down at his dark clothes as if that was the answer. He tried not to linger on his ruined pants. 

“True, but you know Matthew,” Thomas argued, stopping abruptly when a dog appeared out of nowhere and came closer to Oscar to sniff him. “He only wants the best and the finest. London is boring when it comes to fashion. Look at us.”

“Speak for yourself, Tom,” Alastair raised an eyebrow, teasing him. “I like my blacks. Black is an elegant color and it suits any occasion. And it is the shadowhunters’ favorite color. Even Fairchild must wear black when he goes to patrol.”

“And he hates wearing it,” he replied knowingly, and Alastair was amused. Thomas shook his head and decided to sit on a bench that was luckily dry. “What do you say, Oscar? Is your owner grumpy when he has to wear black?” Oscar looked at Thomas after hearing its name, and then sat down on the ground. “I believe we should unhook his leash,” Thomas proposed. “He may want to socialize with other dogs.”

“What if he runs away and we have to run after him?” 

“Are you worried about Matthew’s dog now?”

“I’m just worried about doing a sprint on an empty stomach to go after an animal,” Alastair defended, not being completely honest. He would go after Oscar for sure.

Thomas frowned at his boyfriend. “I doubt he will escape, but in case he does, I will run after him. Do not worry,” he patted his arm lightly. “Alright, Oscar,” he conceded, and unhooked the leash. The dog, realizing he was free, stood up from the ground and walked to the patch of green in front of them. “It is time for you to sniff some grass or some other dog’s back,” Thomas finished, as Oscar started familiarizing with a small poodle.

Alastair chuckled, and Thomas did the same. “I don’t know why, but it amuses me how dogs can be so unrespectful when it comes to invading other dogs’ space. I wonder if he asked the other dog if he could sniff the backside. What an ungentlemanly thing to do. They also trust anyone who gives them a treat.”

“May I remind you that he is a dog,” Thomas objected with a giggle. “That is how it works for him. He gets acquainted with other dogs by smelling them.”

“Imagine if people had to do that to get acquainted with other people,” he considered, then shook his head in distaste. “I’m thankful it doesn’t work like that for people. I would be uncomfortable approaching someone like that.”

“Your approach is more cat-like,” Thomas asserted thoughtfully, and Alastair turned to gaze at him, his interest piqued. “You need to trust and feel safe with the other person before you rub yourself against them or touch their nose gently, or purr –”

“We are in a public place, Tom,” Alastair’s ears turned crimson and he looked around to see if someone overheard them. 

“I don’t think I said anything inappropriate,” Thomas tilted his head on the side. “I was talking about a cat's body language.”

Alastair was about to answer when a man dressed in a maroon suit approached them. “Excuse me, sirs,” he said. “Is that handsome golden retriever yours?”

“It isn’t –” Alastair began. 

“It is,” Thomas corrected him. “Did Oscar do something wrong?”

“Oh no, absolutely not,” the man grinned. “I was admiring the big guy. He has charisma and I can tell from here that his fur is beautiful.”

“Yes, I guess,” Thomas replied, managing a smile. 

“I was wondering if I could take a photograph of him with you,” he said. “My editor is going to publish a book about dogs and their owners. We will also feature their stories.”

Alastair noticed he had a brownie camera in his hands. He exchanged a glance with Thomas. “How do you feel about it?” 

“I say yes,” he agreed with a soft smile. “You?”

“Let’s do it,” he nodded. “Oscar, come here!” To his surprise, he didn’t have to call the dog twice.

“We look so good,” Alastair commented a few weeks later, when they picked up the photographs from the studio. “I wonder how long it will take for the book to come out. Probably a year.”

“What, now you’re curious? I thought you didn’t care about dogs.”

“I never said that,” he shrugged. “I just prefer cats, that is all.”

Thomas muttered a mmmh. “Oscar is such a good model,” he said. “Do you plan on giving this to Math?” he wondered, showing the single photo featuring only Oscar.

“We have a photograph with Oscar,” he replied. “He can have the other one if he wants, unless you want to keep it?”

“I bet Matthew will be happy to have Oscar’s photo,” Thomas said. “We have our own photo with the dog and we also have our portrait sans dog.”

Alastair frowned, a little surprised and curious. “Do we?”

Thomas smirked, producing an envelope from the inside of his jacket and offering it to him. “Here.”

“Oh,” he breathed, his heart beating loudly in his chest when he took the photo from the envelope and saw it was them sitting on the bench in Hyde Park where the man had taken Oscar’s portrait. Thomas’ arm was lying casually on the back of the bench. He remembered his fingers touching his back, but he didn’t give it much thought. “I didn’t realize he was taking a photograph. I thought he was just taking his sweet time to kidnap the dog.”

“I asked him to take a photo of us before he told us to sit down,” Thomas admitted. “It came out so well and he developed it in time for today. We look –”

“So much in love.”

“Yes, we are,” he grinned at his partner, a finger caressing his dark cheek gently. “Happy birthday, hamsar-am.”

“You remembered,” Alastair answered with a kiss.

“How could I forget? You deserve a treat,” Thomas whispered.

“I will treasure this in my purse,” Alastair confessed. “And do stop using the dog vocabulary. This is not a treat. This is the entire bowl of food.”

“I thought it would be better if we bought a wooden frame and hung it somewhere?”

“No,” he said, pocketing the photo inside of his shirt pocket. “I want to keep it with me at all times, Tom. Deal with it.”

*

Brownie cameras were portable cameras that were released by Kodak starting 1900. They were released so that the wider public could take photographs. You had to take the film to the shop where you bought it and your photographs would be developed in a few days :) quite like the cameras with film that were still around 20 years or so (if you lived in the mid-90's you know what I mean).

Alastair is obviously joking about Matthew! His remarks are meant to be funny. I absolutely think he and Matthew aren't tight friends but they are friends.

[hecatemoon87]

Eddie Brock and The Black Cat

*Comic book version background, but Tom Hardy-Eddie/Venom

Warnings - Smut

Eddie Brock looked down upon New York City from a Highrise apartment roof. He sighed heavily as his mind was weighted down by the fact that he was moving to San Francisco. He and Venom had decided it would be best to leave the Big Apple as they were beginning to draw too much attention to themselves. It was a transition he had mixed feelings about. So he decided to take a late night stroll to clear his head. However, being the Lethal Protector, he and Venom of course found trouble. A few minutes before, in the alleyway below, they had beaten the hell out of a mugger. Venom had bitten the head off the guy and Eddie was as usual annoyed by that. Venom was his friend and he wanted him to be happy, but the head biting thing wasn’t Eddie’s favorite trait of his Alien buddy. 

The night sky was clear and the moon and the stars could be seen above. But the light pollution from the city below dulled the cosmic brilliance to a faint glow. Eddie could still hear the low rumble of traffic from the street below and he knew he would miss New York badly.

Eddie, you are sad. Why? Venom said, breaking the silence.  

“I dunno, I’m leaving my home. I’m gonna miss NYC,” Eddie said. 

Eddie paused for a moment, then continued. 

“And…I feel lonely,” he added.  

Lonely! But you have me. Venom said in a hurt tone.

“Venom, I’m talking about for female companionship,” Eddie said.

I see…well, let’s go find one! Venom said, excitedly. 

“That’s not exactly how that works. You can’t just “find” a woman,” Eddie said.

“What’s this talk about finding a woman when she’s already here?” A sultry voice echoed out from behind one of the giant air conditioning units. 

Eddie spun around to see the voluptuous outline of a woman emerge from the shadows. Once she stepped fully into the moonlight he could see she was wearing a tight black bodysuit that hugged her curves in the most alluring way. She sauntered over to him and they stood face to face. Her hair was dyed silver, almost white, the moonbeams casted off of it in almost a supernatural glow. Upon her face was a simple black mask that only covered the area around her eyes. Her eyes themselves glittered like sapphires as they gazed upon him.

“Hey Black Cat, what are you doing up here?” Eddie inquired.

He was trying to keep his eyes from wandering too much over her body. Her cleavage was on full display and it was very tempting to look down and admire her ample breasts. 

“Can’t a girl take a midnight walk?”

Eddie arched an eyebrow. He knew better than that. 

“Okay fine, I’m planning a little heist just down the street. Is the Lethal Protector going to stop me?” she said, a pretty smile playing on her lips. 

“A heist, huh? Won’t that piss off the bug?” Eddie huffed. He was referring to Spiderman. 

Her smile faded from her red lips at the mention of the web crawler. 

“Him? I don’t care. We’re no longer an item,” she said, nonchalantly. 

“Yeah? Well good, he seemed like a real buzzkill if you asked us,” Eddie said.

“Us?” The Black Cat asked, confused. But then her face showed recognition as she remembered Venom. “Oh, that’s right, you and Mr. V.”

Ooo, Mr. V? I like that. Venom said, pleased.

Her smile returned as she watched Eddie. She walked up to him and placed her dainty hands upon his chest.

“You know, I’ve always thought you were hot,” she purred. 

Eddie swallowed. When he said he was lonely, he forgot to mention horny as well. He knew the Black Cat’s real name. It was Felicia Hardy. She was a rich girl who wound up in the superhero world because of Spiderman. She was an excellent gymnast and had kept up with Spiderman until she realized she wasn’t strong enough to contend with his enemies. So, she decided to approach the King Pin when she found out that he had a serum that could make any human ten times stronger. She went through with the treatment and now she was just as strong as Spiderman, maybe even stronger. When the spider found out, he was devastated and ended the relationship.

“Felicia, you’re gonna get yourself in trouble by flirting with your ex’s enemies,” He said, teasingly. 

She smoothed her hands over his chest and nibbled on her bottom lip, all the while giving him an intense look of longing. Eddie’s loins stirred, he wasn’t sure where this was going until she pressed against him and sealed her lips upon his own. He gave zero resistance and the kiss instantly turned into a sloppy, dirty kiss that sent Eddie’s head wheeling. She buried her tongue deep into his mouth and slid her hands through his hair. Eddie grasped her waist and held her tight against his body. He then slid his hands over her bottom and she leaned her mound against his growing erection. The pressure of her warm little mound covering his bulge caused him to groan with pleasure. They kissed passionately for several more moments, their hands exploring each other's bodies before Felicia broke the kiss.

“How bout it, Alien boy? Wanna pound my pussy with that big, fat cock of yours?” she whispered over his lips. 

As she said this he felt her place her palm over his erection and give him a pleasurable squeeze. 

“Fuck,” he groaned and pulled her closer. 

“Oh, baby hasn’t had much attention has he?” she purred, as she undid his belt and unzipped his pants. 

She got down on her knees, flipped her hair behind her shoulders and put Eddie into her mouth. Eddie’s hands flew up and he slipped his fingers through her soft, silky hair. He tilted his head back and lightly held her head between his hands. 

“Jesus, Felicia, your fucking mouth feels amazing,” Eddie groaned as she buried his length into her throat. 

Eddie blissfully enjoyed his blowjob on top of the Highrise. Her wet tongue slid back up his shaft and she nursed the head of his cock with light sucking and tongue kissing before she engulfed him again. Eddie’s eyes rolled up in his skull and he was very close to cumming. 

“Hey, I’m gonna blow my load if you don’t…” Eddie attempted to say through his heavy breathing.

She ignored him and grabbed hold of his firm buttocks and edged him until he gushed forth his seed into her mouth. Eddie convulsed and moaned, completely turned on as she guzzled his cum. She was a proper little harlot, sent to his rescue to provide some filthy sex that he had needed badly. Once Eddie went limp she let him out of her mouth. She licked her lips in a very seductive way as she stood up. 

“How about that, big boy?” she said.

“God damn, did you do that to get back at the spider?”

“Ugh, stop mentioning him. Now, can you get it back up or should I go find the spider to give me what I need?”

“Nah, I can get it up. Having a symbiote has its benefits,” Eddie said. 

As if on cue, Venom had restored Eddie’s libido. Venom could heal Eddie’s wounds and restore energy, getting an erection was pretty much the same principle. Felicia’s eyes danced with delight when she watched his cock grow stiff again. She then began removing her bodysuit and Eddie watched as her cream colored skin was exposed to the dark night. The moon illuminated her skin and hair, she looked radiant. She was now in only a black bra and lacy black panties. Eddie in turn removed all his clothing and walked over to her. She placed her hands on him and admired his muscular body. Her fingers grazed over his shoulders and arms, she purred with approval. 

“Damn, Eddie, you have such a sexy body…and I love your tattoos.”

“Thanks, you have a great body too. I wanna see your tities,” he said, in an aroused tone.  

Eddie was feeling too horny to mind his manners. And at this stage, he didn’t think he was going to offend her. After all, she just sucked him off and swallowed his cum. He’d say anything goes at this point. 

“Boo’s a titty man?” she said, smiling. 

“I’m an everything man, now take off that goddamn bra,” Eddie whispered. 

She smiled and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the ground. Her breasts were cream colored orbs with pink little nipples that stood erect. Eddie felt his cock lurch with desire and he brought her to him, cupping her breasts in his hands. She grasped hold from underneath his strong arms as his thumbs skimmed over her pert nipples. Her eyes closed and she whimpered with pleasure as he massaged and gently pinched her buds between his fingers. Eddie once more kissed her deeply, burying his tongue into her mouth, muffling her moans. 

“You ever use Venom during sex?” she asked between kissing. 

“Huh?...no, never,” he said.

“Well, how about now? Aren’t you two linked? Just think what you wanna do to me, and see if he’ll do it,” she said, wiggling out of her panties. 

Eddie thought about it. Although Eddie often spoke to Venom out loud, Venom did respond to nonverbal commands. He took Felicia back into his arms and he slid his hands down to her bottom and squeezed. He lightly spread her cheeks apart and a black tendril oozed out of him and slid up her thighs. Felicia shuddered a little as the foreign material gilded between her.

“I thought he’d be cold, but he’s actually warm,” she said, softly. 

The tendril sensually caressed the lips of her pussy before wisping back and forth over her slit. Felicia grabbed Eddie tightly, squeezing him hard as the tendril carefully moved her legs further apart. The warm substance found purchase on her clit and a gentle sucking sensation came from it. A surprised gasp came out from her throat as she experienced the delicious sensation of her clit being milked. She was still standing up, Eddie holding her against him. He was watching her closely. She gazed up at him with hooded eyes as the tendril made her wetter and wetter. Soon her thighs were slick as the tendril sucked her clit. It didn’t penetrate her and she wanted to be split open badly. 

“Eddie, I need it, my fucking pussy is aching so badly” she whined. 

“Shhhh, just be a good girl, take what I’m giving you,” he said, smiling. 

Her legs were turning to jelly and as the climax began she lost control and would have fallen if Eddie wasn’t holding on. 

“Oh, Eddie, oh!” she exclaimed as her orgasm ripped through her. 

As she was cumming, more tendrils shot out of Eddie and lifted her up off her feet. She was in a suspended state, a couple inches off the ground and Eddie approached her and adjusted her legs around him. She then felt him plunge into her core and she moaned as his thick cock spread open her tight walls. It was like being in water, surrounded by the ooze of Venom and it felt like she was hiked up against a wall with her legs wrapped around Eddie. Oddly, it was as easy as laying down on a bed, only they were upright. She placed her hands upon Eddie’s shoulders as he thrusted. As she enjoyed her pussy being sated by Eddie’s thick cock, a tendril snaked between her cheeks and found access to her star. 

“Gonna double stuff me, daddy?” she whispered, breathlessly. 

“You fucking want it, don’t you?” Eddie asked. 

She nodded and the tendril slid up her bottom, opening her backdoor. The sensation of her pussy and asshole expanding was intoxicating. But the sensation was about to overload her senses when tendrils latched on to each nipple and found her clit again. The medley of her nipples, clit, cunt and ass being teased in an excruciatingly delightful manner caused Felicia to praise Eddie and Venom loudly.  

“Oh, Lethal Protector, Yes! Yes!” she moaned as every part of her body quaked with sexual euphoria. “Fuck me, oh…Fuck me hard, baby…ahhhh!” 

Eddie buried his face between her tits as he focused on delivering powerful thrusts to her aching cunt. He held on tight to her ass, keeping her suspended on his hips. Venom was helping give her support as she arched her back and writhed upon Eddie’s cock. The support also allowed Eddie to thrust with ease. If a bystander would see them, it would show Felicia suspended in the air, thighs clenching Eddie’s waist as Eddie stood thrusting his hips. Around them was a torrent of black ooze cascading around them in a frenzy. 

The climax for both of them was overpowering. It felt like an electrical current was crackling around them as they came in unison. Felicia crying out his name, moaning like a woman completely undone and Eddie growling and groaning out his seed into her hot little cunt. When it was over, Venom oozed back into Eddie and Felicia’s feet once again touched the surface of the rooftop. As soon as she made contact she crumpled to the ground. Eddie sunk down with her and smoothed her hair back, carefully searching her eyes to ensure that she was okay. 

“You good Cat?” he asked, smiling. 

“Oh my fucking god, Eddie. You better give me your address in San Francisco so I can come visit you. But before you leave, I wanna go for another ride.” 

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|final chapter.

chapter nineteen: perennial↳ meanings:  lasting or existing for a long or apparently infinite time; enduring or continually recurring..

chapter summary: a wedding, a storm and a question pairing: tom holland x y/n warnings: :) none I think, except I proof read it with covid so it might be messy word count: 11.5K

previous chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

it took me ages to write this, I am so sorry, I procrastinated this long enough because I didn't want to let go of it just yet. Thank you to every single one of you who read this and who is still here. I'm so sorry it took so long and I hope it was worth it. I loved this story and writing it was a true pleasure. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Please help me out reblogging tags havent been working for me and I know this will flop but I’m really happy I finally finished this. Enjoy!!

“It’s Harry!” Y/N said as she saw curled wet hair,   from a distance, growing with the humidity. A tailor-made tuxedo walking with his arms hugging a bunch of umbrellas as he was trying to open James’ car trunk. 

Tom was as shocked as y/n was and thankfully forgot the flirting comment she thought she had stupidly said. That was a lie, he wouldn’t forget it. 

He couldn’t. And it wasn’t stupid. 

Because there was a door that could be opened. And it was easy to live with hope. Knowing he’d risk it all just to lose her again. 

She stopped the car as they both watched Harry. 

Tom hadn’t forgotten about the comment. Instead he kept replaying it in his head. 

Maybe it was more than he actually thought it was. Maybe it wasn’t. 

Tom had been different since the breakup. He realized he had to grow, for her, sure. But mostly for himself. He realized he was only kidding himself if he tried admitting that it wasn’t working. He knew that time was playing a joke on him. Sometimes it went too fast and some others, it stopped. 

He knew they both were the problem and the problem was that they… didn’t really see it. 

Although, he had tried moving on that is. Because at some point, and giving it quite a thought, he realized that his friendship with her had been the most valuable thing he’d earned. And though romance was never his lack, he knew he had to learn who he was with her in his life without wanting anything more than a smile. 

It was hard, however. Like cheating to his own heart. Broken hearts caused by oneself often are the most painful. 

How does one move on knowing both of you love each other? 

What even is love? If not a promise to stay or a promise to fight. 

How hard it is to keep away from a person who was once your everything. To control impulses. Hold hands to himself and not kiss a cheek. Hold back words. The urging impulse. 

He felt ready, yet there was something holding him back. Perhaps fear. Fear often shadows the light that love can give. 

Good thing he had his mind preoccupied. 

Harry was walking right to the place where they thought they would find him. 

Tom knew they would find him. And he was close to where Tom’s heart told him Harry would be. Near Harry’s first kiss with Emma. Near the park. A park that Harry and y/n had discovered, a quiet place for them to think. To talk. And later for Harry, apparently, to make out with Emma. 

Tom didn’t know how to explain it, but he had known he’d find him there. Outside that stupid shop. A shop that sold umbrellas, and raincoats only. 

Tom wouldn’t have guessed he’d be at that shop, but he had known he’d be at the cafe beside it. 

Escaping or not, Harry often tended to go to places where he found familiarity. 

Tom figured he had gone to the park or the cafe to come up with a solution. Or to soothe his mind, he understood marrying can be… scary. 

“How the fuck did we know he’d be here?” Y/N questioned. 

Maybe it was luck. Maybe both of them knew his brother. Maybe… 

Harry was under the rain, his hair falling down to his eyebrows. With umbrellas hanging from his fingers as some others slipped off him. Struggling. A caricature of someone who looked very familiar to Harry but who Tom didn’t recognize. He was in shambles. And of course he’d be. 

Y/n parked right behind him. 

“Harry!” Y/n yelled trying to get his attention as she jumped out of the car. The heavy rain making her heels click against the water. 

Harry only turned to her as he tried hugging the umbrellas. “Y/N? Tom? What are you doing here?” 

He sounded…conflicted yet relieved.

“We thought you had escaped! We were looking for you, you fucking moron!” Tom yelled at his brother as soon as he hopped out of the car. “What on earth are you doing?” 

The rain was heavy, annoyingly enough. Both y/n’s dress and Tom suit were nearly soaked within seconds. 

“I’m getting umbrellas! The wedding is outside!” Harry explained. “I saw the weather report and if you can’t fucking guess it from this, it’s raining!” 

“You’re not escaping?” Y/n questioned. 

Harry didn answer right away. Tom and y/n bared witness to the troubling thoughts Harry was currently having. 

“Harry?” Tom reinforced. 

“N-No-no! No!” He had stuttered. “I—I saw the weather report this morning, and I wanted to come up with a solution so I came to the park to think and then I wanted a tea to calm myself down and like bloody magic, this shop sells umbrellas!” Harry explained. 

It wasn’t magic though, it was because they were Harry and Emma. Of course there would be a bloody rain shop beside him. The universe plotted for them. Was this love? Having second thoughts? 

Tom and y/n turned to each other as if deciding to believe him or not. They decided to believe him for his own sake. Or ignore it, even though they both thought they’d found Tom’s brother in a very compromising position. 

“Bloody hell, Harry!” Tom exclaimed. “You scared us, fucking idiot.” 

But then again, who were Tom and y/n to judge? 

“Can we talk about that later? Help me get all of this and buy some more! I ran out of cash!” Harry said. 

Tom directed a glance at y/n. “Go back, I’ll get more. I’ll drive back in a bit.” 

He needed time. To think. As if to give the wedding the opportunity to humor him, besides, aren’t weddings supposed to engage romance and other activities? 

Y/N was hesitant at first but agreed as she drove away with Harry. She understood that it was Tom’s plan to get Harry back as soon as possible. 

It didn’t take Tom much. But it gave him time to think. About him. About her. Go over and over again the story yet once again.

Was their love ever enough if they barely knew what love was? 

There were regrets still. But there was more regret lately, for shutting up how he felt. For driving away from her. Fear of losing her. Completely. 

He had lost her so many times before and losing her now when he had something to latch on would be the one most painful thing. He didn’t want to ruin it by trying to hold on to something more. 

Love, as we know, is complicated. And to slow down when they once went beyond a speed limit was agonizing and disappointing. 

Because… what is love but being hurt when it ends? 

The rain fell heavier now, as if it was humoring him into his sadness and distress. His mind had not been the same since he had dared to open a drawer full of memories that he had forgotten why he had to keep them away. 

A drawer that held down her smell, that bottle of perfume that she often wore in her daily routine, that also kept her kiss with that red lipstick that she’d bought. A few nights with him were also kept there, a few polaroids, an old dvd and a journal that had the audacity to tell their story. 

Tom had gone through it and he was reminded of a script that he once read and broke his heart. But the journal told another story. As if it was the same one but from another perspective. A pretty one. 

With flowers, here and there. With the meaning  of flowers that he didn’t quite understand, the real ones and the ones she gave to them. 

Yellow flowers: often spreading joy. 

Was her journal… their love? 

He got the umbrellas. And wanted to believe his brother, had he really been concerned about that? Or was he really worried about the rain? 

Tom went to another shop to buy even more umbrellas, though he wanted to assume they’d have more at the hotel. He found an umbrella with yellow flowers, sunflowers. 

But it seemed there was a bigger storm awaiting for him. 

He kept thinking how he didn’t need much before, just her laughter echoing behind. 

The storm inside the hotel wasn’t as inviting. Apparently Emma had learned the news.

 “Emma? Are—are you there? Please let me explain myself.” Tom saw his brother against a door, defeated.

James, Clark and Sam were behind him. 

Y/N was at the end of the aisle, talking to Tim. Tom, although had tried to grow past the jealousy and although he knew Timmy was dating Lily he couldn’t help but wonder sometimes. 

Y/N had never truly forgotten about Tim, and Tim had never truly let go of her. And Tom knew they never would. 

Tom didn’t blame Tim anymore, how hard was y/n to move on from. 

Tom had gotten used to them, Tim and y/n. Because Tim had realized whatever he’d felt for y/n was less important than keeping her in his life. 

Tom needed advice on that matter. How does one ever move on from love? If that’s really what they felt. 

Did Tim ever love y/n? Did y/n ever love Tim? How would Tom know? How does one know when love is enough or if your love is supposed to last? 

Tom heard just a bit of the conversation. Emma believed Harry had escaped. But everyone kept saying the only thing that mattered in the end was that he was there.

 Emma was angry. Harry was regretful. 

But she listened. 

And then didn’t. 

“It’s not even you running away that bothers me,” Emma said. “We need to cancel it, Harry, everything is against us, always,” Emma said behind the door. “Don’t you think it’s a sign? We should call it off—“

“I don’t fucking care if there’s a storm, I love you and I want to marry you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you even if all the odds are against us.” Harry’s words resonated. 

Even if the odds were against them. 

How Harry managed to convince Emma that he hadn’t escaped was a mystery to Tom. 

He hadn’t quite listened to anything, not really. Or he had and simply decided he’d use it for his own advantage. 

Fight against odds. He should’ve. Probably. Was that love? 

Was love fighting against all odds? 

“Can I dry my hair in your room?” Y/N asked, bringing Tom back to his mind after a few scenes happened and Tom decided to ignore.  “And… re-do my makeup. And maybe shower?” 

Her room was shared with Emma, and though she would have it for herself that night as Emma would clearly not spend her wedding night with y/n, she was in need of another room. Because y/n, although a maid of honor, she needed to redo everything as the rain had almost ruined the masterpiece she had created before. 

Tom accepted. 

They both took a shower, separately,clearly, to avoid any other circumstances that might lead to a boulder in their path. 

Y/n said she didn’t want to catch a cold from the soaking rain. Tom said he felt he smelled. 

After he was finished, he watched her from the mirror in the bathroom as she sat on the bed, and it felt so natural. 

Very rutinary, how they were comfortable around each other enough. Tom was shirtless, only a towel around his waist as he was letting his shirt dry enough to attempt to iron it. She was wearing a hoodie she had borrowed while her dress was drying. 

“He did try to escape,” Y/N said, as she brushed her wet hair. 

Tom frowned. “He did?” 

“Yeah.” 

Harry had indeed tried to escape and although it made barely any sense to Tom, y/n explained how Harry was scared of odds being against him and Emma. How Harry had felt it as a sign, indeed, how the first time they got engaged their party was ruined, how when he’d realized his feelings she had left, how when they got back together their schedules went wrong, and how on their wedding day, ironically enough, it was raining. 

The universe telling them not to do it, he had said. But Harry had realized, how even if everything was against them, he still loved her and it was all that mattered. All that mattered was how they had overcome each rock thrown their way. 

“I guess,” y/n said, “we did have something to do with it. He said it, how he—“she cleared her throat. “You know, he did say something about being miserable if you don’t try at least.” 

Tom didn’t answer, he only stayed watching himself in the mirror. 

Yes, miserable. That’s the word. 

Silence filled the room once again, and there was barely anything to talk about. But it didn’t feel awkward, or wrong. 

Tom missed her silence, and not in the way that he didn’t like talking. He missed the way he could have silence and peace with her, and it was alright. 

Yet right now her silence meant his mind being loud, and he probably didn’t like that. 

She walked to his side picking up the hair drier, Tom should’ve and could’ve left but didn’t. 

“Hey, I’ve got to be honest with you,” Tom called out, hopeful she’d be able to listen to him even with the drier on. 

“Hm?” She crossed her sight with his reflection. 

Tom gulped, grabbing his toothbrush.

“Uh, the reason I’ve been avoiding you,” Tom started loud enough for her to hear him. “It… it was because I… well I opened your drawer,” he  said, getting the toothpaste out. 

Y/N turned off the hair drier. “What drawer?” 

Tom gulped. “The one you had at my place, your drawer.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, still some stuff there.” 

There was a silence as y/n looked into her makeup bag, breathing in slowly, as if trying to rearrange her thoughts. Tom tried to distract himself by brushing his teeth. But it wasn’t enough. His mind was going from the thought of the stupid drawer to the fact they were being them again. Sharing a mirror, while she did her makeup and he fixed himself. But now they weren’t kissing each other's cheeks or giving dirty looks. It was just them sharing a stupid space, not a momnet. 

“I thought I had… taken everything,” she said. 

Tom shook his head and hummed. 

“I’m… sorry, I’ll pick it up in a few days,” she nodded. 

“I found your notebook,” he said after spitting. “Your journal.” 

She instinctively handed him the towel to clean himself and then reached for his hair brush, meeting her hand with his. “Oh, sorry I was about to hand it to you.”  She still knew his routine. She cleared her throat. “My journal?” she chuckled. “Well it’s not really a journal it’s…” 

Tom leaned against the sink, staring at her reflection, directing a smirk. “You really are impressively cheesy,” he teased. 

She smiled, as she was cleaning off the ruined makeup. “I tend to be, yes.” 

“Pressed flowers?” He asked, remembering the notebook. Flowers pressed here and there, with pictures of them and a perfect memory of them. 

She scrunched her nose. “Yeah. 

“Writing the dates? Adding Polaroids,” he kept watching her as she was blushing, trying to focus on her makeup instead. He helped her get her hair off her face. Her eyes flickered as he did. 

“Look, I’m very cheesy and it was romantic and sweet in my head,” she explained, annoyed, as she started applying her makeup. Tom knew her, though, how she was annoyed when he took control of the situation. 

Although subtle touching had always been theirs, they had stopped for a while. 

“No, no, I get it,” he smiled to himself, gently nudging her.  “That’s just— I didn’t know about it.” 

She looked at a makeup brush, and tried focusing on herself. “Yeah I never…” She paused. “I mean it wasn’t a big deal, it was… you know, moments and such,” she whispered. 

Tom couldn’t hide it, so he tried walking away, hanging his shirt and bringing the steam press. “Right, that’s romance to you, the moment and everything.” 

Y/N was the one now watching him from the mirror. “Yeah, you know me, I'm ridiculous.” 

Tom met her gaze, “No, you, you really aren’t.” 

She took a heavy breath with her eyes speaking more than her words, maybe she was feeling it, too. How it was them. Her eyes were hopeful but scared. She shook her head. “Well, you can keep it or you can give it back to me, it’s okay.” 

Tom coughed. “I—that’s why I have been avoiding you,” he explained. “I dunno what to do with it.” 

Y/N spent a long time staring at the colors in her makeup palette. Tom stared at her, how much she’d changed. How much they both changed. 

“I hadn’t realized I gave you that many flowers,” Tom mentioned. He never seemed to realize how many times he’d just shown up with flowers. Yellow. Pink. Red. White. Blue. Flowers came to them like kisses. A flower was a kiss, and a flower led to a kiss. She’d give him flowers too. 

“Yeah.” 

There was silence. 

Tom really wanted to say more. He really believed that she was feeling it, too. He cleared his throat, turning to the clothes instead. “How does this…?” He stared at the steamer.

 “I have no idea how that works, don’t use it, you’ll end up burning it,” she admitted. “Didn’t you have another shirt? Didn’t you bring like three? And another suit?” 

“Yeah, but I liked this one and I gave the other to Harry.” He sighed and then walked to the closet, taking out two other shirts. He brought it back to the bathroom mirror, placing both on top of his chest. “Hm.” 

Y/N stopped applying whatever she was applying to her eye and stared. “Oh, the blue one. We’ll match,” she coughed. “I… No, we don’t have to…”  

“No, no, I like that, it’s the wedding theme…”Tom nodded, noticing her embarrassment. “Yeah, but… what suit?” 

“The one with the buttons?” She suggested. “You’ll look nice.” 

Tom took a deep breath staring at the options. “And when did you take all those Polaroids?” He wanted to meet her gaze again.

Was this love? 

She looked up. “Most of them were candid, I bet I could sell a few of those to some paps,” she chuckled. 

“Earn some cash,” he rolled his eyes. 

“I’d better keep them to myself,” she admitted, nonchalant. “I dunno when I took them, I found the time.” 

“Right… Yeah well I found it.” 

“The suit?” 

“The journal.” 

“Ah…. right,” she cleared her throat and finally met his gaze. 

Tom stuck his tongue out, “And I—had some sort of crisis because well.” 

Y/N stopped. “Yeah, it’s—Looking back at it…” She cleared her throat. “It’s still.” 

Tom chuckled, dryly. “Yeah, it’s just….” He gulped. “Interesting, and then looking at us now,” he smiled. “All decent and friendly.” 

Silencing himself, sure, decently and friendly. But not… good. 

“We were decent back then,” she stated, sarcastically. 

“I—yeah but I mean, we were really in love,” Tom mumbled. 

She looked down. “We were.” 

It hurt. “I’m...I’m going to change so, eyes over there,” he warned. 

She laughed, “You've been walking around in only a towel. I don’t really need to have a look.” 

Tom smirked, “Yes but it’s just a taste, I won’t give you a full meal.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t want to see it, actually.  I don’t need to, If I wanted to see you naked I’d only have to close my eyes, idiot, I can just imagine it.” 

He let out one single laugh, “Do you do that often?” He smirked. 

“No,” she answered simply but winked at him. 

Was she flirting? Tom had to only wonder. He didn’t believe she was. He knew firsthand how she flirted. This wasn’t it. 

He didn’t know if she had tried to sneak a peek, but he had walked back to her with the suit back on. She probably hadn’t. “Or… should I change the shirt?” 

Y/N smiled warmly, “No, you look very handsome,” she admitted adjusting the collar of his neck. 

He blushed, slightly. “At the end of the day, bringing back…. The previous conversation, I mean, we both know there was no one to blame.” 

She turned back to her makeup, almost done now. “Yeah, there’s no villain here, it would be useless trying to find one.” 

He took out two lotions and showed them both to her, as she pointed at her favorite. “I wasn’t right and you weren’t wrong but…” 

“Yeah you weren’t wrong and I wasn’t right either.” 

Tom knew he had to bring it up. “And… are we going to talk about last night?” He was nervous. The night before she had almost leaned over but he had panicked and backed away. “How you tried to—“

Y/N squinted her eyes, “I—sorry I yes—I’m very sorry, I got caught up in the moment and I was kinda drunk.” 

Of course. 

Tom coughed. “No, I—I understand.” But he wished he didn’t. Or he wished he hadn’t backed away. “I’m sorry for—“

“No! Don’t apologize! You did the right thing—I was just— I won’t do it again. I know we are friends and I want to remain friends because that way we both can be together,” she was saying mostly to herself. “As friends I mean. We can—yeah.” 

Tom watched her. He wanted her to try again but of course he would never mention it. “Yes and I well—I think we both, I don’t know, maybe it’s the wedding because—“was he going to tell her that he had also wanted that. 

How weird it had been, her getting drunk and claiming he had been ignoring her. Him accepting he had and that he would’ve called in the morning when they were more-sober. 

Y/N cleared her throat. “Yeah, yeah, weddings get everyone in a romantic mood ,” she confessed but then blushed. “No, no—I mean—It just—drives  everyone crazy and—“

Tom gulped. “Yeah… but uh, we-we are good right?” He was scared she was angry that he’d backed away but when it happened a million things had come to his head. Not that he had not wanted to kiss her but he didn’t want it to be that way. Not drunk again. Not after a night out when they’d regret it in the morning and blame it on the alcohol. No, he wanted something where they both wanted it. Not making up for anything. Just—a kiss because they both wanted it. 

Y/n nodded as she fixed her hair, nervously. “Yes of course, all good…. And I’m glad we had that conversation… While looking for Harry…” she reminded him. It had been a good conversation. She walked away to her dress. “Well, I think the dress is… not as cold and wet.” 

Tom followed after. It was… ruined. The once beautiful dress was partially ruined with rain and was stained with… what Tom would say was dirt, or mud. Just slightly at the bottom. “you should wear the hoodie,” he suggested. “It’s also blue.” 

She looked down at it, sky blue, it could techincally work, if it weren’t for the fact it was a wedding. “I know, right? It’s elegant.” 

Tom grinned. “no but… we could try using that steamer?” 

She looked at it, skeptically. “No,” she answered simply. “I’d rather catch a cold than ruin this dress… well.” She left to put it on. 

Tom was left alone with his thoughts, which didn’t help.He knew that the problem was that he technically could go after her. There was barely anything stopping him. Except for the fact that they were friends. 

“help me with the zipper, please?” She asked, walking over to him. 

This felt like love. 

He had to refrain himself from trying to kiss her neck so he decided to distract himself. “Don’t you think it’s crazy?” He asked as he zipped her up. “A wedding under the rain?” Without anticipating his movements his hands landed on her waist

“I think it’s crazier to drink cold coffee from yesterday,” she answered with a smirk, turning around. He kept his arms around her. 

Tom blushed, cackling softly. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

Y/n grinned walking away from him, Tom took his hands back to himself. “I am not.” 

She looked for something in her bag, her jewelry. She walked back and handed him the necklace, Tom helped her with it. 

The ballerina. A ballerina he’d given her.

Tom gulped but didn’t mention anything. How could he? 

She had to take a deep breath as she felt his hands tracing against her skin. Tom noticed the sudden movement and slowed down. He got closer to see the tiny clip on it. His breath fanning against her neck. 

“You know it’s, funny,” he started, still barely an inch far away. “I was just thinking about it, that before I, well, I ever admitted out loud I had a crush on you I used to describe you as a cold cup of coffee that was left to sit for a day.” 

She turned to him as she was finishing with the earrings, they were too close and he didn’t take a step back, as she  now needed help to get her bracelet. “Oh?” 

Tom smirked with mischief as he wrapped the bracelet in her hand, bringing it close to his sight. “Yeah.” 

“And, now that you’ve tried it?” Her gaze was searching for his. “Does the description hold up?”

Tom knew it was his moment to shine. “Absolutely, yes, very disgusting.” 

She rolled her eyes as she nodded knowingly, “I’ll take notes of that, thank you, I’ll add it to my dating profile.” 

Tom didn’t like the sound of that. “Oh you’re—you’re on a dating app?” 

Y/N seemed to be the one to notice the reaction this time, Tom could see a sense of pride becoming her as she packed her makeup. “Oh no I was just joking.”

Tom saw the reflection in the mirror. He couldn’t tell if she was lying. “Right.” 

Y/N did the same thing Tom had before,bringing two perfume bottles for him to smell. One of them he recognized immediately. It was her date night perfume. Or the Tom perfume. He remembered smelling it every time they went out together. And the other one was new, but felt very her still. He’d probably recognized it too. 

He chose the second one so he would be able to keep it to himself..

“Yeah because it would be funny to add it to a dating profile,” she said as she sprayed the perfume on herself. 

“Yes very-funny yes yes I know,” Tom was getting nervous about the subject. Or the perfume. 

Probably both. “But I mean uh if you are then—uh—In a dating app I mean, good luck!” He walked away from her to check elsewhere, looking for his watch. 

“Yes, yeah yeah you too—but no I’m… I’m not,” she said. Y/N seemed to be left alone on the other side of the room and it seemed that she didn’t like it as she slowly followed after him. 

“Yeah you’re not—“Tom stated and then rethought it. “I don’t think you’d be one to be on a dating app.” 

Y/N smiled sweetly, “No, I… like meeting people organically.” 

Tom glanced at her. “Maybe you could find someone at the reception!” He suggested it and instantly regretted it. “Maybe Timmy Tim brought some friends!” He didn’t know why he kept talking. 

Y/N scrunched her nose.  “I know most of his friends, that would be weird.” 

Tom was trying to avoid her again. Knowing that minutes before he could’ve kissed her. But didn’t. “Right, but there’s more people ,right?” Repeating the word could distract her. 

Y/N wasn’t as eager with this conversation. She headed near the window watching the rain. “Maybe, yeah,” she hugged herself, “ what about you?”

“Oh I’m not—looking for anything I’m very busy.” 

She coughed. “Oh, yes, for sure.” 

He had been busy, which might have been one of the other thousand reasons why they’d broken up. One that they would easily admit. Both of them had been. 

Tom didn’t know where he wanted to go with it. “But I could be your… wingman tonight.” 

Y/N chuckled, turning back to him, crossing her arms. “My wingman?”

Tom let a wide smile spread across his face. “Yes.” 

“Huh, who would’ve thought, my ex is going to be my wingman.”

Tom shrugged and entertained. “Hey, who better to help you out than a guy who was deeply smitten with you?” He said, “ I’m going to really give a good word about you.” 

She rolled her eyes, “I can only imagine, please start with the coffee thing.” 

Tom blushed, as he searched for his belt. “Or I could go with the other one.”

Y/N followed to search for her shoes. “Oh?”

They both sat beside each other, so synchronized as they were putting on their shoes. “Yeah, I believe I also used to say you were like rain pouring down on your wedding day.” 

Y/N nodded understandingly. “Nice, you get to test out both of those.”

“Lucky me!” He grinned standing up. 

“And me, it’s really going to help me find someone if you’re going to tip me in with that.” 

“Absolutely,” he grinned. “But you’re doing all the work in that dress.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, embarrassed. “Well, shall we?” 

He offered an arm. “We shall.” 

She checked her phone. “James is texting me about how I need to go with Emma.” 

“I’ll escort you there.” 

“What a gentleman,” she grinned, not letting go of his arm. He didn’t mind. “I—I used to say that I’d rather have grounds in my coffee than to spend time with you, so you could add that to your dating profile.” 

“Hm, grounds in your coffee.”Tom chuckled. “What’s the verdict now?”

She scrunched her nose. “I—really hate grounds in my coffee.”

Tom sighed. “Oh.” 

“Yeah, I was wrong, so you could say you’re better than grounds in your coffee.” 

“Ah, excellent.” 

Tom finally was at peace with himself. He hadn’t talked about it much but he had always had that tinge of guilt every time he remembered ruining the engagement party, so finally being there was soothing. 

Like a reward, of sorts. 

The rain kept falling down, not as heavy as before. The bridesmaids would walk down the aisle while the best men were already there. Harry had asked Tom once if he wanted to walk in with them and they could change things up just so he got to walk in with y/n. Tom had declined the offer. 

Harry had never given up on them, he was the one to always assure Tom they’d be fine. He had understood the break and had encouraged it. Harry had told him this: “You and y/n started on hatred. If you both build a friendship and then build upon it, nothing will ever break you apart anymore.” 

But Harry wasn’t really thinking about Tom and y/n at the moment. 

He did think about y/n before, however. How funny fate is, how funny love is. How you think you love someone and then realize, you don’t. Or do, in a very different way. 

He found it funny how the ‘girl of his dreams’ had introduced him to the love of his life. Sometimes the unexpected is what you’ve been expecting for the most. 

It was funny. 

Walking down the aisle was funny to y/n, even as the rain fell down on her gown even under the umbrella. The bridesmaid making their way down the aisle as the rain sprinkled around them. Struggling to not slip and fall, and holding an umbrella that didn’t match her dress. 

Tom saw her, with that glowing smile she held, giggling as she walked down holding close to her umbrella. Knowingly, somehow. 

Most people were covering from it, colorful umbrellas Harry had gotten. 

Tom was already at the end, he had a blue umbrella, she’d chosen the yellow flowered one as he knew she would. 

A wedding under the rain. A wedding with people holding umbrellas, unexpectedly romantic. With the garden now puddled and dirty, and the flowers adorning the aisle falling down. A mess. 

Like Emma and Harry. 

A perfect mess. 

And that’s all y/n could think about. When her eyes crossed with his, there was a pain Tom hadn’t felt in a while. So stupid to let her go, how much time had he waited to lay down and have her head upon his heart. And he wished he had had only five minutes more, he should’ve kept fighting for that smile. So close yet so far to each other. 

It felt like a million years ago when they were laughing in his bed as he kept trying to guess the song she had thought of. A million years ago when they were dancing in her apartment to that song, from that one movie. With Tom Cruise… Top Gun? No. Mission Impossible? No. Jerry McGuire? No, no. Why was she thinking about Tom Cruise? 

Why was Tom Cruise the one thing not leaving her mind? The one distraction y/n had to forget about the other Tom. 

A scene from both of them was playing in his eyes, y/n could see, and although it was Emma who would be walking down the aisle as the gentle notes played behind, Tom was the one falling in love all over again. With y/n placing a vinyl on his record player while he wrapped his arms around her. Cooking in his kitchen, barefoot running around his place. Bubble baths that lasted until the water was cold. Laughs merging into one. Picnics at midnight, with cold pancakes or waffles they could a goose from, driving around the city when everyone was quiet and the only whispers they could hear were hers. Waking up by her side, and her asking for five more minutes to dream of that far away land. Even the fights, with both of them being irrational only to end with him pulling her from her waist to kiss her, making it all better. Polaroids and flowers. Polaroids of flowers. 

Y/N felt something too, and she didn’t understand what it was. Risky Business. That’s the movie. When Tom Cruise dances. 

Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about Tom either as their own film full all flowers played in the background. 

And though they both turned their eyes to Emma about to walk in, time had stopped for the both of them. 

How had they not fought against the odds? For that one film they wanted.

And though the film had ended up multiple times, they wanted to play it again. 

And it was a reminder, as everyone stood up as Emma was about to walk in, with her blue umbrella. With her impeccable makeup and her perfect hair. 

A wedding under the rain.

Y/N and Tom decided to break their stare and look at Harry, whose breath was taken away when he saw her, his one and only Emma, under the rain and against all odds about to walk to him. 

Y/n could see it in his eyes, how he had never wanted to escape, not really. What he’s done today was an act of pure courage, to get out of everyone’s talk and to get his own thoughts straight. Harry had escaped to tell himself that he was indeed in love with Emma, not that he needed a reminder of it, but as in an assurance. That’s why he’d gone to the park, his very first date with Emma had been there, and to that cage where they had shared a kiss, and though he had claimed to forget it, he’d gone to the place where he’d bought a raincoat for Emma that one time. 

Harry had searched for Emma and he had found her, and she was right in front of him. Harry had searched for Emma his whole life and she was right there. 

Emma took a deep breath and smiled, giving a smile that only Harry knew. A smile that Harry  owned. 

Gently, but suddenly abruptly at the same time, Emma decided to let the umbrella fall down to her side so the rain would cover her. 

Harry, at first, was intrigued and scared and confused. 

Emma gave him another reassuring smile as she took off her shoes, knowing they’d get dirty anyway. 

Harry then, dropped the umbrella as well, ignoring everyone’s looks as Emma proceeded to walk under the rain. Or… run to him. 

A wedding under the rain. A wedding that was clearly not supposed to happen, yet, it did, with the bride’s makeup getting messed up and the groom’s suit getting soaked. 

Against each and every odd, Emma ran to Harry who was at the end of the aisle waiting for her to jump into his arms. 

It was bittersweet for Tom and y/n, with their sight not leaving each other. Tom could’ve sworn he saw a single tear fall down her cheek.

As Emma and Harry stumbled down and then back again. 

The ceremony was magical, with people forgetting the rain was falling down. 

Harry and Emma were claiming their vows but Tom and y/n were still in their own world. Rude, probably, but they just couldn’t look away. 

“And I promise that I’ll keep getting umbrellas when the rain falls down,” Harry had said in his vows. 

“And I promise that against all odds, I will keep walking under the rain for you.” Emma had said in hers. 

Y/N looked sad, her eyes set on Tom as if asking him to get umbrellas so she could walk under the rain for him. And with a single look, Tom made her see, he would, either get umbrellas or walk under the rain if he was given one more chance. 

And for a minimal moment they both felt perennial, everlasting, with a single hope to bloom again once more. 

But then again, this wasn’t their moment and the wedding had to go on. 

Luckily, the reception was under a roof. 

Y/N had decided to sit with Tom a long time ago, when helping Emma with the sitting arrangement. ‘I want to sit with him, we are friends’. 

But Emma had told her that she’d be having another seat, with friends of theirs from college. A table where Tim and Lily would be sitting at. 

Y/N had known she’d end up with Tom, although for a month she had felt she wouldn’t. 

There was, however, no trace of the avoiding Tom right now. He’d offered her his jacket as she had walked in with him, her hand locked in his arm. 

A few laughs had been shared. The table consisted of James, Clark, Haz and Tuwaine and their girlfriends, Tom and her. 

It was obvious that Tom and her were distinctively different. Whispering to each other, giggling with inside jokes. 

The conversation had been about Emma only, and how lovely she looked and how incredible it was what she did. How romantic it was, to walk under the rain for the love of your life. 

The newlyweds had walked in. Love was in the air, and there were no other two souls in the world more perfect for each other than Harry and Emma. Their smiles were a reflection of the other’s happiness. They both knew that loving each other would be the easiest thing in the world. That no matter how many mountains they had to climb, they still had each other. 

Harry and Emma didn’t have to worry about someone ignoring them again, two wild flowers who found themselves. 

Their first dance was as lovely as it could be and the wedding continued to go smoothly. One of those cliché things could’ve happened, when Tom would only stare at y/n while she didn’t notice, instead they’d given each other one smile tha said: ‘Not right now’. 

They’d both wanted to hold on, but not too tight. 

The wedding continued, as it usually does. Because why would time ever stop for them? It hadn’t before. And it wouldn’t today. 

“Hey, everyone, I’m y/n.” That’s how y/n’s maid of honor speech started. With a few anecdotes for her two best friends. Fun stories first. Tom listened and laughed even when she made of of the first engagement party. 

“I think, you know, that’s their magic, even after our celebrity friend over here—well we know what happened. I think that’s truly their magic, how they’re able to fight against each and every storm, because they fight against it together,” y/n said. “ I always thought you both had it easy, how things just simply happened to you. How I always thought the universe plotted for you…How you both had magic on your side. But today, I realized, it hasn’t. Today, you taught me how you’ve been fighting against each odd, you know? Just defeat the storm, because that’s your magic, you guys don’t need the rainbow or the sunshine above. It’s—you guys, you who can walk under a rainstorm and find happiness under it because you’re together. You, who will go to the other side of the city to find an umbrella to match the wedding theme. And I really admire that. And neither of you take it for granted. Because the both of you know how incredible you both are, and I’m—I am happy to be the one who can take the credit for introducing you both to each other. You guys owe me,” she chuckled and smiled. 

She took a deep breath. “you both know what’s it like. And I know, I know I always make everything about flowers, or films or— but I just think you guys are flowers,” y/n smiled at them. “ You see, while I worked at the shop I learned about these kinds of flowers. Everything about them. How they hold meaning to each other, and sometimes without knowing it, we tell a story with flowers. I remember Harry always gave you daisies, Emma. Daisy flowers symbolize new beginnings and rebirth, in addition to love, and and—cheerfulness, and beauty, purity, innocence, hope, fun, and affection… and I think that’s the magic of you. Your innocence and beauty and how you are reborn each time.” 

Emma and Harry snuggled against each other. 

“There are—several kinds of flowers. Perennials, and annuals. Annuals simply bloom once and you have to replant them, and most relationships are meant to be like that. Just once… while perennials, they are— they bloom each spring. Everlasting. And they—Against all odds, after a hard cold winter season they bloom again. So I think you guys are perennial flowers, who found each other, and against all odds, keep blooming. So here’s to Harry, and Emma—our perennial flowers who will keep blooming against each and every odd as they showed us they can today.” 

Another few other speeches, Tom wouldn’t forget what she had said, against all odds. 

“Here you go,” Tom said sitting beside y/n and offering her her glass after they’d both come back from dancing along with a group and came back to catch their breath. 

She looked up with a tender smile. “Thank you.” 

Tom took a deep breath watching her, wondering if he was supposed to ask about it, what they’d both felt during the ceremony. 

Tom cleared his throat instead, “So, who do you fancy?”

“Hm?” Y/N looked up from her drink. 

“I’m your wingman for the night, remember?” 

“Ah, right.” She gave a look around the place, and landed her eyes back on him. “No one really has caught my eye.” 

Tom reached out to fix a lost strand of hair, making her blush. “Why not?”

She gave him a sheepish smile. “Dunno.” 

Tom tried ignoring it, looking away. He hadn’t noticed how close their hands were on the table, barely half an inch close. His sigh was too focused on the crowd. “How about Haz? Tuwaine?” He mentioned, turning back to his table as his friends were currently laughing at something. 

Y/N nudged him, rolling her eyes. “Lovely idea, my ex's best friends! Who both have dates.” 

Tom grinned at her. “They’re handsome.” 

“They are,” she turned to see them. “but I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

Tom hummed and turned around back to the crowds, she approached her chair.

 “Oh my God, that girl is trying to hit on Clark,” y/n whispered to his ear. 

Tom followed her gaze and snorted. “Man is wearing that and she thinks he’s straight?” His laugh was meant for her to hear only. “Five bucks that James will go and take away his husband,” Tom mumbled. 

“Oh, no, I’m not betting.” 

“Why not?” Tom frowned, looking back at her.

“Because—“She tilted her head back to the scene as James had come to wrap an arm around his husband. “James can’t stand the idea that Clark is undoubtedly the most handsome man here.” 

Tom side glanced, “Really?” 

“One hundredth percent, yes,” she snickered as she watched him, her eyes sparkled watching him. “Too bad he’s gay, and not bi, I would’ve already tried stealing him from James if it wasn’t for that.” 

Tom grimaced, “uh-huh.” 

“Yeah,” she teased, subtly resting her hand on his shoulder. “I would’ve asked for your help. ” 

Tom without thinking about it, reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. He knew what it meant. But was it only the wedding or were they really ready? 

“My help?” 

“Yes, You know a thing or two about stealing your siblings love interest,” she smirked. 

Tom opened his mouth in shock, “you’re fucking done.” 

She slightly pushed him away. “Am I wrong?”

This felt like love, laughing with her. He leaned slightly, jokingly frowning and letting go of her hand. “You’re being really rude to your wingman. I’m not helping you anymore.” 

She leaned over, wrapping her arms around him, “please, no, help me out.” 

Tom made the mistake of looking into her eyes, quickly trying to get away from her. 

“Hm let’s see who else, uh I see Ben over there, you see him?” he pointed at a close friend of theirs. “Ben is that handsome guy, he is a business man now, very important, want me to introduce you?”

Y/N laughed. “I know Ben,” she clarified. “you do realize I know most people here, right? Especially Ben,  I’ve seen Ben try to open a beer bottle with his teeth• 

“And you don’t find that attractive?” Tom teased. 

She sighed. “I do, but i think he’s way out of my league because of that.” 

Tom slapped his knee, “Yes he definitely is, he really is a catch,” he laughed. “But okay give me something to work here.” 

“I…” She scrunched her nose. “I…sorry, I—guess I haven’t moved on from my previous love interest.” 

Tom cleared his throat. He started to sweat. 

“How can I?” She continued. “I mean look at her,” she pointed at Emma. “I despise your brother for stealing her from me. I should be the one marrying her, she’s stunning 

Tom forced a laugh. “Ah, yes.” 

“So sad, but I guess I can live with it,” Y/N said. 

Tom followed her gaze, Harry and Emma giggling against each other, with Harry covering her with a blanket. Both of them with their hair messed up from the rain still, poking their wedding cake and poking each other. 

Tom groaned. “They are disgustingly adorable.” 

Y/N laughed. “Truly, their love is an aberration from its cuteness,” she faked disgust. 

“The way they look at each other, truly an offence.” 

Y/N took a deep breath. “Yeah.” 

“They really don’t care about the world around them,” Tom pointed out and turned back to y/n, now her gaze away from them. 

“They don’t have to, they’re soulmates,” she reminded him with a smile. 

“I thought you didn’t believe in those,” Tom pointed out. 

She took a deep breath. “I do, I don’t, I…I dunno, but they’re the closest thing to it, just the way that they grew past the storm, they literally….” She threw her hands in the air. “They literally walked under a storm to marry each other and they….” As if she was still trying to believe it. “and how even if her flowers were ruined or her dress… and everything… she didn’t mind because he was there, you know? That’s romance.” 

Tom smiled. “It really is, let’s find you that.” 

Y/N was shocked. “Hm?” 

“I’m your wingman,” he reminded her. “Let’s get you a date.” 

She rolled her eyes, laughing desperately. “Why are you so desperate to find me a date?” 

Tom shrugged. “I want that for you, whatever Harry and Emma have.” 

She licked her lips watching the couple drunkenly head to the dancefloor. “I used to have it.” 

Tom looked up. “Right, with Emma.” 

There was a knowing silence. Both of them watching people dance, people from their past, people from their present and mabe from the future. 

“Hm how about Peter?” Tom asked after a while. 

“Hm, Peter is cute I guess,” she agreed. 

“Huh, didn’t see him as your type,” Tom frowned slightly. No, it wasn’t jealousy. Or was it? Could he really be hurt about a stupid comment from a girl he’d been broken up with for a year now. It was stupid. 

“He’s not but that’s worked out before,” she chuckled. 

Tom pursed his lips and then smirked. “Or… That guy over there, he’s my Uncle Paul, he is very fun, he actually loves the same music as you do, no surprise since he lived in that era, he is a fan of strawberry muffins and-” 

“And old.” 

“Ah, what’s 60 years of difference, it’s nothing these days, y/n.” 

“What’s his sign, then?” She asked. 

“A capricorn, see? He is a catch y/n, I could set  you up,” Tom smirked. 

She laughed. “No, as big of a catch he is I think his wife would be bothered by it.” 

“Psh, I’m sure my aunt Petunia wouldn’t mind,” Tom said, laughing. “No, no, come on, I’ll get you and Peter talking but first, let’s dance.” 

Tom did what any insane ex boyfriend would do and with all the pain in his heart. He danced with her. And there was that feeling again, as they both approached each other, when his head rested on her shoulder as they swayed around.

“I really liked your speech,” Tom said. 

“It was improv,” she confessed. “I liked yours better, had more comedy to it.” 

He held her close. “You really admire that from them, huh?” 

“Jealous of how they managed to get through it? Yes. I’m jealous, honestly. How they didn’t give up.” 

Tom sighed. “They did, at some point.” 

“I guess, but not this—, you know?” 

“Yeah, but they’re them.” 

“And we’re us.” 

Tim watched Tom and y/n from a distance. Tim had gotten his own closure. 

It seemed that Tom didn’t and Tim was perfectly aware of it. It was sad. 

Very sad to see how the guy had blew it up. Bad kept blowing it up. 

They were yearning for each other. Dancing, laughing at first, more serious now. Tom swirling her around, letting her head fall down with grace, debuting their own kind of silly dances. Y/N laughing and looking into his eyes. 

And Tim could tell y/n missed him. She had confessed it to Tim, how she was scared that she’d blown up every significant relationship she’d ever had when it came to the point of getting somewhere. How she had pushed everyone she loved away. 

Y/N had those kind of eyes that Tim knew. Y/N was begging to be loved. How stupid of Tom, Timothee thought, to have someone like her beg for his love. 

And he could see it from there, how she was holding on to Tom as if she never wanted to let him go. 

Yet she did, and Tom, stupidly had introduced her to Peter, one of Tom’s friends. Tim could tell that neither Tom nor y/n wanted this. 

But there he went, Tom had so easily handed y/n to Peter, as if trying to make Peter get y/n out of his mind. 

Tim watched Tom. Wondering if Tom would find his Lily, too. Or if y/n was supposed to be his endgame. 

Tim disagreed with Tom, mostly because he hadn’t fought for y/n this last time. Tim knew they’d simply just… broken up. But it had come way before that. Tim had slowly seen both of them give up. It was sad to see them both run out of excuses. 

Tim thought initially y/n was tired from dragging her problems, and although they’d promised to take about it, they both ended up ignoring them. 

Though, Tim did see how their friendship worked. And it was a true friendship, even if they both had to look away and take a deep breath each time they walked into the room. 

Tim knew that they’d solved all their “marital” problems when apart. They’d talked about it, because they didn’t have the pressure of the relationship. 

And so it was formed, and although y/n had always claimed she was happy, it had been the night before when y/n had drunkenly knocked on his door to tell how much she missed Tom as something else. 

How tired was she of giving him signals and him ignoring them, or avoiding them. That she knew they were friends, but that she was still deeply and even more now insanely in love with him. 

Tim knew Tom was too, but Tom was an idiot. 

Tom’s eyes were glued on the dancing y/n. Peter and her swirling on the dance floor as she would only smile. Tom didn’t look away, he wasn’t jealous. One, because he couldn’t be, she was just a friend enjoying herself and two, because he knew he had nothing to worry about. Peter and her were only dancing. 

But Tom felt wrong. He really missed dancing with her. Really dancing and having it mean something. Because now whatever they did didn’t mean anything, it couldn’t. But Tom smiled, his eyes beaming as he saw her, as usual, with a dress that may have been chosen by Emma but she’d made hers. 

Tom didn’t miss, however, that feeling that anyone in the room was looking at her and feeling like someone could steal her, so easily. Tom’s infatuation had led him to always anticipate how he’d feel when she’d walk in, blushing, flushed. He had become familiar with it, hiding his emotions. He was really good at hiding, no matter if his anticipation was far from it. Just when he thought he’d control himself, he’d always be stung. How incredible it was, how someone like her still had him wrapped around her finger. Someone so different from him, with her flowers and vinyls and her aesthetic, and her wild mind, always running away from him. 

He knew she had dated, but he didn’t want to know who and he didn’t care. He wondered if she’d felt the same way, like no one could ever make her feel the way he could. Because he believed that, no one would ever make him feel the way she did. Good and bad. As if emotions were just dialed up. And that now that he knew her, he didn’t need to know anyone else. Learning about anyone else wasn’t as exciting. 

Tom had once thought about it, having her for one weekend. He wished he could come back just for a weekend, to have her smile and know he was the reason for it. He knew he eventually would break down for it, all roads eventually lead to her. Maybe he could tell her that he still felt the same for her, did she feel the same? To think they once owned the world. Maybe asking to rule the world was too much.  

And he didn’t want a weekend as a one night stand, but he wished for a weekend, only a weekend would suffice. But would it? 

He had to behave now. They weren’t alone anymore. 

Tom then feared as he saw y/n throwing her head back laughing. He feared Peter would find out how amazing y/n was. He feared y/n would find out that she could laugh with other people too. 

Tom had to stand up, to get a drink if he was going to keep dealing with this. He didn’t wait for someone to come ask him, he headed to the bar directly. Gin and tonic, just to pity himself and his lack of courage. 

“You’re an idiot,” someone had said behind Tom. 

Tom, taking the first sip of his drink and trying not to choke turned to face Timothee. “I thought we were past our discourtesy.” 

Tim shook his head, “We are, I’m telling you as a friend or… whatever we are.” 

Tom shrugged, “Acquaintances.” 

Tim tilted his head, ordering a drink, “Fair enough.” 

“Or members of the same club,” Tom nodded. 

Tim chuckled, “It hurts, doesn’t it.” 

Tom took a deep breath, watching her. “Yeah, a bit,” he lied. “But I’m happy with…. Our friendship.”

Tom downed his drink and ordered another one. 

“Careful,” Tim warned, “we both know what alcohol and an Emma and Harry party do to you.” 

Tom laughed. “I already gave my speech so we need not to worry.” 

They remained quiet, Tom still watching y/n. 

Tim shook his head. “I’ll never understand what went wrong with both of you.” 

“Too much history can kill you,” Tom shrugged. 

“No,” Tim said simply. “I think you’re just an idiot.” 

“That I am,” Tom agreed. 

“I’ve kept seeing you both, she is hinting it and you back away.” 

Tom coughed. “We are friends.”

“Yeah, keep believing that bullshit.” 

Tom rolled his eyes. “We, on the other hand, are not, Timmy.” 

Tim grinned. “Do you still love her?”

“She’s my friend.”

Tim pointed his drink at Tom. “I didn’t ask that.” “I—“

“Do you?” 

Tom was in the spotlight, but now the drink on his hand was speaking for him. “Well yes I do love her I just—I tried okay? Moving on and I thought I’d magically wake up one day and I wouldn’t love her anymore but—“

“That shit doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, yeah, that shit doesn’t happen,” Tom agreed..lAnd I don’t want to be this miserable idiot that wakes up everyday waiting for her—“ 

Tim shrugged. “I was that idiot for a while.”

“How the fuck did you do it?” Tom questioned. “Because I can’t—it hurts so fucking much.” 

“I never stopped trying,” Tim said. “You did.” 

“And where did that lead you?” Tom rolled his eyes. 

Timothee smiled, genuinely. “I met Lily. It seems like y/n has this magic of introducing you to the love of your life. She did with me, with Harry, and Emma of course, I think even with Sam, right?”

“So I have to make her introduce me to someone else.” 

“No, no, that would be very fucking stupid from you,” Tim snapped.

“Then what?”

“Don’t be a fucking idiot,” Tim begged Tom. “Can’t you see it? She never fought for me, or for Harry. Yet she fought for you, and you should fight for her, you are meant for each other.” 

Tom sighed. “No. She doesn’t want that.” 

Tim watch with irony and not believing what he was hearing. “You kidding, right?” 

“I would love that,” Tom was exasperated by him. “But what I would love right now is to move on, how did you?” 

“She loves you, that’s how I moved on, she loves you. And she will never fucking stop loving you.” 

Tom sighed. “She deserves better. Someone who hasn’t hurt her—someone like Peter.” 

“Maybe, but she wants you,” Tim was as stressed now. “And you’re so stupid because you want her, too. Love is not about fucking deserving, it’s about being fucking brave.  You’ve lost her before. You’ve always acted like it’s your last chance and life keeps pulling you back together as if you had fucking magnets for each other, for once let it pull you and don’t fuck it up..”

“How do you know she wants me?” 

Tim was strong and he thanked he was strong because otherwise he would’ve murdered the man standing in front of him. 

He took a deep breath. “She told me just last night, how she can’t deal with it anymore how she wants to risk a goodbye just to get close to you.” 

Tom only sighed. 

“I’m serious, man. Really think about it,” Tim warned him. “I only moved on because I knew she’d be the happiest with you. And I had to live with it, and— then it grew into me, and I swear, it was… easy, because I could tell she was happy with you. And she truly was her best when she was with you. And—then.” 

“I didn’t blow it up, not—by myself, at least….it was a mutual breakup, you know? And neither of us wanted it, not really.” 

“Perhaps not. But you’re blowing it up right now, so I would go for her—“Tim stopped himself. “Oh but , word of advice,” Tim said just as he was about to go. “It’s y/n we are talking about, don’t just get drunk and sleep with her after you tell how you feel about her.

“Ah, there goes my plan,” Tom rolled his eyes. 

“No, just—do whatever you do that charms her, as usual.” 

It felt like the one thing Tom needed to hear. It was as if Tim was giving him his blessing. Not that Tom needed it but it was nice to have. He new he had his blessing from everyone. 

And he kept watching y/n dance from a distance, he smiled watching her struggling with Peter and his tremendous dance moves.

Tom at that moment decided something. He loved seeing y/n happy and she seemed to be happy at that precise moment. 

Y/N on the other hand had decided things for herself. She had changed throughout these years and she still wondered if she’d donde the right thing. One doesn’t suddentl fall for their enemy one night because they weren’t really the enemy. 

Dancing that night y/n realized he never truly was an enemy, an enemy is usually a stranger and he’d never been one to her heart. 

She did regret they couldn’t dance as much as she wanted to but she didn’t regret that night either. 

It was funny how everything was setting in front of them, like an old dvd or a on journal or a worn out script. 

That one night after the wedding, they had ended up together, but not in the sense that one would have thought they would. 

They spent the night laughing with each other, bringing out an old script and scratching things and rewriting. Going through the very journal Tom had found in his drawer and realizing that they were neither the script with ugly undertones or the journal with a pink gaze. 

Their love wasn’t like Harry’s umbrellas and their love wasn’t like Emma’s brave act. Their love wasn’t Tim’s film canister or Cherry’s flowers. 

Their love was theirs and though they were not seeing it that night, they both knew they owned it. 

“What is love to you?” Tom had asked. “I think Harry and Emma made me doubt my meaning of it.” 

“They know what it is.” 

“So what is love to you?” He asked again. 

“When?” She asked. 

“When?” 

“What love is depends on when,” y/n explained. “Love can be anything. It could be a rose in Rome, a stolen peony in New York or a meaningful yellow daffodil in Los Angeles.” 

“Flowers then.” Tom laughed. 

“It can also be a ballerina necklace, or a fight, or depends on the time.” 

“Well—“

“It can also be my favorite film, you know? Dirty Dancing, or it can be dancing for your movie. It can be red wine and homemade pasta, or it could be cold pancakes in a tree house.” 

Tom just watched her. 

“I think love finds its way to be, you know? Love can be walking under a storm or buying umbrellas.” 

“What is love now, then?” 

“I dunno, for the moment I really don’t know.” 

Days went by after that one night, y/n had caught a terrible cold from the wedding.

Y/N had gone back to her apartment and the sun was bursting through the curtains on that one very day. She’d opened the window to listen to the singing birds,  she could smell the rain from the day before and she was feeling better. The sun had found it’s way out. 

She decided to go out, to forget the one night that had gone through her mind. She’d texted Timmy asking if she should text Tom and there was a hint of disappointment on Timmy when he’d learned Tom hadn’t called her. 

Was y/n really trying to forget the night or maybe trying to remember it forever. How funny life is, isn’t it? 

What was love? She had to keep thinking about it. 

She bought a flower and the streets were colorless, the city was busy and everyone was just bursting and talking through their phones, but she was quiet, because she was looking at the sun. The sunflower and her were kissed by the very last ray of sunshine. 

Was love this sunflower? 

No, love should’ve meant staying. 

She knew the sun would go away soon, it would rain again. So she’d go home and pity herself.it would be an evening when she didn’t want to go out . Cozy with that big blue sweatshirt she’s stolen from Tom from that wedding day.

 Love should be kissing the night before the wedding. 

She thought about binging through a netflix show as the sun would yawn. 

Love should have been kissing on the cheek while zipping up a dress. 

She’d lost all hope. She felt it, with that cold cup of tea in her hands, as she was staring at the window, watching as the night slowly dawns its way dark, and shed lost her hope, she didn’t know what love was. 

Had she not known it her whole life? Was love… never what she thought it was? 

She had popcorn microwaving, and a pot for her tea waiting. Rain was splattering against her window, a storm was only making her lose the track of thought that would lead her to know what love is. 

This wasn’t love. Love would’ve meant calling. Love would've meant showing up. Love—

Her phone was ringing, and her house was chaos. Adding to it, the thunders clapped. The movie was playing and everything, everything was going crazy. 

Someone rang the door, probably the pizza, but the chaos was too loud. She could keep up with it.  She needed the answer to her question first. What was love? 

And the phone kept ringing, and the pot was whistling now, and the thunder kept clapping. 

Was love calling? 

She needed the answer, what was love? Was it flowers and Polaroids? Was it sleepless nights in New York and fights in LA? Was it walking under the rain in London? 

But suddenly, as she found herself opening the door. She knew it, she’d always know what love was. 

And love was soaking and shaking from the rain holding a soaked yellow sunflower  flower with a soaked shoe box that once meant love. 

Love had a promise to be perennial, everlasting and bloom against the odds. 

And she knew the answer then…

Love was… them.

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