#i love the people sitting around like they were having a picnic and sparks just interrupted it

[carcarrot]

so incredibly captivated by this german tv performance of the calm before the storm it deserved its own post

[hearts4renaa]

ONCE BELIEVED

summary: what they thought love was versus what you showed them it really is. featuring xiao, childe, diluc, scaramouche, albedo, and alhaitham.

contains: 0.7k words, little drabbles for each boy 🫶 fluff

a/n: finally some fluff 😭 this piece was pretty personal for me to write, since i used perceptions of the loves ive seen through my people watching/people around me/personal experiences. enjoy 🫶

Xiao thought love was a useless phenomenon that only mortals experienced. He didn’t think love was all that special, nor did he understand how someone could devote their entire life to one person. To love was to be attached. To be attached was to get hurt. However, you taught him that love did have a use; to bring out the best in each other. You brought out a different side of Xiao. A softer, gentler side that was able to relax at your touch. The side of Xiao who finally felt like each breath of air in his lungs were ones of life, and not as a reminder that he is still suffering. The side of Xiao who was proven wrong about love, but he could never be more glad than he is. Xiao knows what true love is now. Love is you.

Childe thought that love was fiery and passionate all the time. He thought that to love was to kiss dramatically in the rain, to dance in the moonlight. To forever be caught up in the thrill of it all, like a never ending adrenaline rush. But being with you made him realize that love isn’t just a thrilling roller coaster ride. Sometimes, love is the quiet laughter at night, sweet kisses on each other's foreheads, or the comfort of simply sitting next to each other. Love doesn’t always have to be burning brightly; sometimes, it’s a calm flame in the corner of the room. It may not be dramatic, but it illuminates everything around it.

Diluc thought that to be loved, he had to be worthy. He thought that he had to perfect himself in order to be loved, that he had to meet certain conditions. But then you came around and flipped his entire worldview around. You showed him that he didn’t need to be extravagant, or strong all the time, or perfect. He just had to be Diluc. Your Diluc, who does extensive research on grape juice just to find his favourite kind. Your Diluc, who wakes up early on Saturdays to make you a hot drink to serve to you in bed. Your Diluc, who brings you small trinkets with that lovely smile. Your Diluc, forever yours.

Scaramouche thought that love was like a business deal. Two people come together and realize how they could benefit off each other; that’s what it really is, right? Otherwise, how could you possibly devote your love, your trust, your time, your life to someone? But he gets it now. The moment you got through the smallest crack in his walls, it all came crashing down. The way you knew him, the way you saw right through all his bluffs and best defences. Despite the many roundabouts, you went through the labyrinth to his heart, all because you loved him. Love doesn’t always need a rhyme or reason. Sometimes, you love for the sake of loving. And loving you is one thing he’ll never regret.

Albedo thought there was a formula for love. He thought it could be calculated, predicted. You start as friends, you touch their hand to spark interest, then you flirt and so it goes. It’s ironic, because his love for you was not planned at all. In fact, it hit him like a truck. He didn’t expect any of it at all. He was so stunned that he was in denial for weeks before Kaeya literally had to call out his heart eyes for you. But now, the spontaneity of your relationship is what makes him happiest. What should the two of you do today? Stay home cuddled up in bed? A picnic at Windrise? Perhaps Albedo could draw a portrait of you? The unknown is can be scary, but not with you. And as long as you are by his side, he will go wherever the wind takes him.

Alhaitham thought that all forever loves have to go through some sort of major conflict within their relationship. He thought that you had to fight for your love. He thought that love was something you had to almost die for. When you came around, it’s as if all stars aligned. Every failed love led the two of you together. It’s as if the two of you were molded for each other. From the silent understanding stares or soft smiles from across a room, anyone outside could see the love flowing from the two of you. Of course the two of you had disagreements like any couple, but things never exploded beyond repair. At the end of the day, the two of you knew you’d be okay. Some things are just meant to be, and the two of you are one of them.

[corroded-hellfire]

Ok, ok, I have a question about As You Wish. Will reader's friends who appeared in "just-a-spark" (Peter and Tony if I'm not wrong) appear again? Because I'm a bit curious about their reaction to the news that she is dating Eddie. if they were teasing her when they met him for one second, I can't stop wondering about what they would say after knowing they are actually together.

I love love love this idea! I feel like this is a little bit of redemption for Eddie too lol. Here’s Just a Spark for anyone who may have missed it ☺️

Words: 2.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Eddie had planned a romantic picnic at the park, complete with your favorite sandwiches, a few pudding cups that the boys are sure to notice are missing later, and a bottle of wine. What Eddie hadn’t taken into consideration though, is that the park is the same place where the playground is, that has children running around, screaming, crying, and laughing. It didn’t make much sense to leave two children with Wayne just to be surrounded by dozens of them.

Luckily, there’s a park closer to your college campus that students like to spend time at. No playground, just a lush green field with large, leafy trees dotting the property to provide shade on the sunniest of days. 

It’s mildly crowded there as you and Eddie arrive and pick a spot near a small trickling brook that runs over smooth stones in shades of grays and browns. Your boyfriend shakes out and lays down a yellow checkered blanket and sets the tan wicker basket down smack down in the middle. 

“After you,” Eddie says, sketching an overdramatic bow and gesturing for you to sit. With a soft giggle, you tuck your legs underneath yourself and settle down on the ground. The moment his body is seated next to yours, you’re lunging over and slipping your arms around his neck. How were you supposed to contain your happiness when your handsome and thoughtful boyfriend did all of this just for you? 

Eddie chuckles and lets out a puff of air as he’s knocked back slightly, originally leaning forward with the intention of opening the picnic basket. Before he can open his mouth to ask what this affection was for, you begin pressing kisses all over his face. A peal of laughter rings out of Eddie as your kisses become more fervent, as if you’re trying to make sure you didn’t miss a single inch of the skin on his face. Large, ringed hands rest on your waist and Eddie manages to bring you even closer to him so you’re straddling one of his legs.

When you inevitably need air and pull back, your lips are kiss bruised from all their work and the scruff on Eddie’s jaw. The two of you look into one another’s eyes as you attempt to catch your breath, reveling in your own personal little bubble.

Eddie’s throat tightens as the pressure of tears builds up behind his eyes. Not only did you just show him some of the cutest affection he’s ever received, but you did it in public. There were people all around. People your age. Probably people you recognized from classes or seeing around campus. But you still attacked him with kisses right here in the open. Almost like you’re proud to be out here with him. Eddie has to clear his throat and wipe his nose to cut the emotion off before it becomes too much. 

No one has ever acted this way with him in public before, though. The most his ex-wife ever allowed was a quick peck on the lips outside of the house. And that was on a good day. Honestly, he was lucky if he got to touch her at all—whether in public or in private at home the last few years. 

“Was that too much?”

Eddie’s attention comes back to the present and sees your brow pinched in concern. He can’t shake his head quick enough to reassure you.

“You have no idea how much I loved that, princess.” One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek. The softness of your face nuzzles against the roughness of his palm and the contrasting textures feel like heaven for both of you. 

“Do you want to eat?” Eddie asks.

You strain your neck to try and peer inside the basket. 

“Did you make this?” you ask, trying to contain your teasing smile. It’s no secret that Eddie could burn water. 

“I made the sandwiches, yeah,” Eddie says, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you flush against him now. “Believe it or not, I’m capable of spreading condiments and stacking cold cuts between two pieces of bread.”

“A step up from pouring cereal into a bowl. I’m proud,” you joke, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. 

Eddie sighs and shakes his head as he tugs the picnic basket closer to the two of you. You assist him in unpacking everything before getting comfortable between his spread legs. The taste of mayonnaise and turkey fills your mouth as you lean back against your boyfriend’s chest. He chews on his own sandwich as the two of you sit there in a companionable silence. 

A cool breeze blows through the park, shaking the green leaves that are now dark and full again in the springtime. The babbling of the water falling over the stones and rocks in the brook is one of the most calming sounds you’ve ever heard, and it leads you to closing your eyes. The sounds of nature around you, the wind kissing your skin, and the man you love warm and solid behind you have you feeling a sense of peace that you’re not sure you’ve ever felt before. It seems like there was always something to worry about in the past. A test, a fight with a friend, some stupid boy, money troubles, family drama, you name it. But this moment is serene. Nothing could be wrong when you have Eddie here with you. 

Both of you stay seated like that after you’ve finished eating your sandwiches and the only reason you move is because Eddie’s stomach rumbles so loudly against your back that you can feel the vibrations from it. A cackle of laughter explodes out of you at the sound and sensation as you sit up. 

“Pudding?” you ask.

“Ooh, sounds good,” Eddie says. 

Pushing yourself onto your knees, you shuffle over to the basket and reach in, fumbling around to find the Snack Packs.

“Do you want the van—oh!”

A neon green frisbee landing right next to you on the picnic blanket startles you, stealing your concentration away from the dessert. There’s a black insignia on top of the frisbee and as you lean in to get a closer look, you realize that it’s your college’s crest. 

“I’m so sorry about that!” A voice calls as it approaches you. A familiar voice, you think to yourself. 

Sitting back on your heels, you twist your body to see who’s coming up behind you. 

Surprise steals your breath as you lock eyes with Tony, your friend from college that you haven’t seen in a little while. But coming up behind him is Peter, who you’re decidedly less eager to see. He’d started out as a good friend but after one date (that you’d only agreed to in your attempts to get over Eddie anyway) that was less than stellar, he hadn’t accepted “no” as an answer for a second one. Luckily, you’ve been able to dodge him for most of this spring semester. 

“Didn’t mean to almost nail you in the head,” Tony says with a sympathetic chuckle as you hand the frisbee back to him. It’s not surprising that he’d thrown the disc so far though, since his biceps are the size of your head. 

“It’s okay,” you reply with a small smile. Your eyes flit over to Peter, and you see him watching Eddie wearily. It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. Out of the two men, Eddie isn’t the one who you’d have to sleep with one eye open around. 

When Tony’s gaze shifts to Eddie as well and you see recognition spark in his eyes, the memory of them all meeting one another at the Fourth of July Fireworks comes back to you. Where, if you’re not mistaken, Peter was a bit of an asshole and even Tony made some comments that weren’t the nicest. 

Disregarding whether they got a proper introduction that day or not, you scoot back over towards Eddie and curl up against his side. 

“Guys, this is my boyfriend, Eddie.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the older man give your classmates a smug smile as he slips a warm, comforting arm around you. 

“Eddie, this is Tony,” you gesture towards the shorter man who could be The Hulk’s body double. “And this is Peter.” The taller, tanner man nods his head once, his blunt jaw-length hair bobbing with the motion. 

“You two,” Peter says, motioning between you and Eddie, “are together?”

“We are,” Eddie responds, glee dripping in his tone. You can practically hear the thoughts running through your boyfriend’s mind. 

That’s right. She’s with me.

There’s a pregnant pause where no one says a word. Laughter from others in the park and the nearby barking of a dog are all you can hear. 

“Cool,” Tony finally says. His voice cracks at the end of the word, a clear sign of the fake cheerfulness he put into it. 

“Explains why it didn’t work out between us,” Peter says softly, as if part of him didn’t want you to hear him. 

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you feel Eddie’s arm tense around you. The eyes of all three men land on you: Tony’s curious, Peter’s worried, and Eddie’s wondering if you want him to say something for you. But you’ve got this. 

“No,” you say slowly, dragging the word out. “That would have everything to do with your shitty personality and the fact that you used a gift card to TGI Fridays on our first date. And you stiffed the waitress, so I left her the tip. And you’re a trust fund baby!”

Peter scoffs, his brown face turning red all the way up to the tips of his ears. He looks away from you and digs the toe of his Reebok sneaker into the grass. 

Tony presses his lips together so tightly that they almost disappear while Eddie buries his face in your neck to hide his laughter. The shake of his shoulders gives him away, though. 

“Whatever,” Peter mumbles. “Have fun with your old man.”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” you call out as he begins to turn away, “I do!”

Tony suppresses a chuckle at your words while you can feel Eddie smirk against the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder. 

“Well, uh,” Tony says, clearly unsure of how to follow your little outburst. “Guess it’s not Peter’s week. He was badgering Cailee for a date and on Thursday she kneed him in the balls.”

Both you and Eddie burst out in laughter at that, the mental image of the gorgeous strawberry blonde being especially amusing to you since you know the girl. 

“Oh, I wish someone got that on video tape,” you say. 

Tony chuckles and nods his head in agreement. “Well, I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t follow him. But it was nice to see you. And, uh, nice to meet you, officially I guess, Eddie.” Your classmate steps forward and offers his hand to your boyfriend.

Eddie leans forward and grasps Tony’s hand, shaking it and nodding his head in agreement. 

“You too.”

Neon green frisbee gripped in one hand, Tony gives you a small wave with the other before he turns in the other direction and jogs after Peter.

Once he’s gone, you sigh and slump against Eddie’s solid body next to you. 

“You know,” Eddie muses as he slings his arm over your shoulders, “when I saw you with those guys on the Fourth of July, I was insanely jealous.”

“What?” you ask, tilting your head to look up at him.

“Yeah,” he says with a soft chuckle. “I saw you with these young guys, hanging out, having fun. Made me feel even older. I started feeling sorry for myself. But look at me now. Got the girl of my dreams and that shithead got kneed in the balls the other day.”

An airy giggle bursts out of you at the reminder.

“And by the prettiest girl at our school,” you add.

“No,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. He doesn’t miss a beat. “That’s you.”

“Eddie,” you say, playfully rolling your eyes, “you’ve never even seen Cailee.”

“I don’t have to.” He makes it sound final, simple as that. No room for arguing. “Tony doesn’t seem like a bad guy.”

“No,” you agree. “Just a dumb college boy sometimes.”

“How lucky am I that dumb college boys aren’t your type?” Eddie asks, tilting his head and giving you a shit-eating grin. 

“Hmm,” you hum as you reach up and lightly trace your fingers along his stubbled jaw. “Nope. I’m definitely into sexy dads with tattoos and curly hair that I can really grab onto.”

“Never been so happy to not be younger,” Eddie mumbles, making you laugh. The sound lights up his face and he flops down on his back, tugging you down on top of him. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You lean down and press a quick kiss to his nose. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to say more, Eddie’s stomach growls again, making you giggle. “Pudding cup coming right up.”

Eddie pushes himself up on his elbows and watches as you climb off of him and crawl over to the picnic basket to grab him a snack, an adoring smile glued on his face.

“God, you’re perfect.”

[danikamariewrites]

Kisses

Eris x reader

A/n: I really loved the corruption Eris hc I wrote so I thought I’d elaborate just a lil bit 😉

Warnings: corruption kink (kinda), lots of kissing and thoughts about Eris

The thought of Eris’s lips hadn’t left your mind for days. It’s only been a week since your first proper date with your mate. Mate.

You still couldn’t believe it. And Eris Vanserra of all people. He had always danced with you at balls, making sure to be kind to you. It’s part of why you had been so taken with him.

The taste and feel of him mixed with those Summer strawberries lingered on your lips. It had affected you so much that you had found a lipstick to match the shade your lips had stained.

You had worn the strawberry lipstick every time you’d seen Eris this week in hopes of another kiss. Every time you were near your mate you found your mind wandering back to that picnic. The way he held you to his chest, his warm hands roaming your body. His warm, plump lips slowly melding with yours for sweet kisses.

A warm feeling began to bloom in your chest at the thought of Eris. A smile spread on your lips at the growing warmth. Signaling he’s closer to you.

Seconds later, the door to his living area gently opens and you’re met with his beautiful sharp face. Closing your book, you stand to greet your mate.

Instead of curtsying—a habit Eris made a point to break with you—“You’re my mate,” he had said on your second date, “and future High Lady, you don’t need to curtsy to me, my heart.”

Eris makes his way toward you with his arms held out. You throw yourself into his embrace. The bond singing at your reunion. Resting your chin on his chest you flutter your lashes up at him. A soft flame flicked to life in his eyes as a soft smile spread on his lips.

His loving gaze travels from your doe eyes to those strawberry pink lips. Eris sucks in a small breath, a slender finger coming up to trace your lips. “Beautiful,” he breathes out. A blush heats your cheeks at his touch and words.

“You are just stunning, little fox.” You bite your lip at his compliment, trying to hide your face in his tunic. “Hey,” his light laugh like music to your ears, “don’t hide, little fox. I haven’t seen you all day.”

The same finger that traced your lips hooks under your chin. You let him tilt your head up to meet that molten gaze. Silently, you slip from Eris’s grasp leading him over to the couch you have been occupying since this afternoon.

Sitting on Eris’s lap you drape your arms around his shoulders, lazily playing with the ends of his long hair. “How was your day?” You ask sweetly. Eris smirks down at you, “Ok. Better now that you’re in my arms.” Another blush creeps on your cheeks. Becoming putty in his hands. “How are you? I haven’t seen you all day.”

“I’m good, I relaxed and read. Thought of you most of the time.” Eris’s eyes widened at the bold comment from you. His heart rate picks up at how adorable you are.

“Oh,” he drawls, “and what were you thinking about, specifically?” He raises a perfect brow at you. Mother above, you just want to caress his face. His perfect smooth skin is a magnet for your hands.

Your fingertips gently trace his lips. Moving to trace his cheek bone down to his jaw. You rest your palm against his jaw, pulling him slightly to you as you inch forward. Eris brings the two of you together, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’ve been thinking about our picnic, those strawberries, your kisses,” you whisper. The want for more clear in your voice. Eris’s breath hitches.

“You want more?” You let out a small whine as you nod against him. Gods, if this is how you react to kisses how would you fare with everything else Eris has to teach you?

Eris finally touched your lips with his in a searing kiss. That familiar spark lighting between you. You melt into him, pressing your front to his. Eris’s mouth swallows your moans. His tongue prodding at your lips.

You slowly pulled away from him for air. Your chest heaving, your eyes still closed as you cling to Eris.

Eris leaves soft pecks against your lips. He gently nudges his nose against yours. “Gods, I need your lips forever.” You smile against his lips. “Please, want you more Eris.”

Eris knew at that moment he would never be able to deny you. Ever. Eris kept kissing and kissing and kissing you. He never wanted his lips to leave yours.

[songbirdseung]

photobooth / sim jaeyun

synopsis: take a picture, it'll last longer

pairing: college students jake x reader, strangers, campus crush

warnings: none?? maybe college?? lol, lmk if i missed anything

wc: 1k

Sitting outside, eating lunch with your friends in one of the park-like areas of your university was a common occurrence. But today was different. Today, you caught a glimpse of the new foreign exchange student from South Korea.

You were the friend who was always single, the one who constantly complained about being alone but never really ventured outside the house. You never made the effort to ask anyone out. Yet, something inside you compelled you to get up from your picnic blanket and approach the attractive stranger.

"Your soup is going to get cold, YN. What are you even looking at?" Yuna asked, trying to match your line of sight. Eventually, her eyes landed on the man sitting on a bench. "Oh, Jake. I see."

"Jake? You know him?" you asked. Yuna nodded and explained that he was in her science class. He was known to be a smart guy, originally from South Korea but also from Australia. You looked back at where Jake had been sitting, but the bench was now empty.

"Awh, is little baby YN finally falling for someone?" Sunghoon teased.

Ever since that day, you had a new endeavor: to find or at least catch a glimpse of Jake every day. Whenever you got out of class early, you would rush to Yuna's science class, knowing Jake would be there. Naturally, your friends teased you, calling you obsessive and a stalker. Unbeknownst to you, you weren't very discreet because Jake had definitely noticed your love-filled stares, thanks in part to his friend, Jay.

"Do you know her?" Jay asked one day while he and Jake were playing soccer with other people. Jay had noticed a girl sitting in the bleachers with her friend. That girl was you, and you had convinced Yuna to watch Jake practice.

"Don't forget about me when you start dating him," Yuna nudged you playfully.

"Oh, please. Like you didn't avoid me for a week when you started dating Sunghoon," you retorted with a grin. As you both playfully argued, Jake paused, took a good look at you, and shook his head at Jay.

"This is actually the first time I've seen her," Jake admitted.

A week later, there you were again at Jake's practice, but this time you were by yourself. Deep down, you knew you were being kind of creepy and weird, but having a crush makes you do the strangest things. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t pay much attention to the game, simply spacing out until the very end of the practice. You snapped out of it only when Jake made his way towards you, his Aussie accent pulling you back to reality.

"Hey, space cadet!" Jake called out with a grin, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

Startled, you blinked and looked up at him. "Oh, hi. Sorry, I was just… thinking."

"Thinking, huh?" Jake laughed. "Must have been some deep thoughts. I'm Jake, by the way."

"Yeah, I know," you replied nervously. "I'm YN."

"Nice to officially meet you, YN," he said, extending his hand. After you shook it, he continued, "So, I’ve noticed you’ve been around a lot lately. Do you always come to watch soccer practice, or am I just that interesting?"

You blushed, trying to find the right words. "Well, um, maybe a bit of both?"

Jake chuckled. "Don’t worry, I’m just teasing. Jay told me you’ve got a bit of a crush on me."

You felt your face heat up even more. "He did, did he? That’s… embarrassing."

"Not really," Jake said with a smile. "It’s kind of cute, actually. So, tell me more about yourself. What’s your major?"

As you both started talking, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You found yourselves laughing and sharing stories, and it felt like an instant spark, as if you had known each other your whole lives.

"You know," Jake said after a while, "I feel like we’ve been friends forever. This is nice."

"Yeah," you agreed, smiling. "It really is."

Over the next few weeks, your friendship with Jake grew stronger. You found yourselves hanging out more often, whether it was grabbing coffee after classes, studying together in the library, or just chatting about life.

One afternoon, as you were both sitting under a large oak tree on campus, Jake turned to you with a smile. "So, YN, tell me something I don't know about you yet."

You thought for a moment, then grinned. "I can play the guitar. Not many people know that about me."

"Really? That's awesome!" Jake exclaimed. "You have to play for me sometime."

"Only if you promise not to laugh if I mess up," you said, nudging him playfully.

"I promise," Jake said, raising his hand as if taking an oath.

Another day, you both decided to go for a hike in the nearby hills. As you reached the top, the view took your breath away. Standing side by side, you both admired the scenery in comfortable silence.

"It's beautiful up here," you said softly.

"Yeah, it is," Jake replied, looking at you instead of the view. "Thanks for suggesting this."

"No problem," you said, feeling a warm blush rise to your cheeks. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

As the days turned into weeks, Jake became a constant presence in your life. One evening, after a particularly grueling study session, Jake looked at you and said, "You know, I really appreciate having you around. You make everything more fun."

"Thanks, Jake," you replied, smiling. "I feel the same way."

One night, while sitting on a bench after a late-night coffee run, Jake turned to you with a serious expression. "YN, I've been thinking… We've become really close, and I don't want to ruin our friendship, but I feel like there's something more here. Do you feel it too?"

Your heart raced as you met his gaze. "I do, Jake. I’ve felt it for a while now."

He smiled, reaching out to take your hand. "So, what do you say we give this a shot? See where it goes?"

You squeezed his hand gently, feeling a surge of happiness. "I'd like that a lot."

From that moment on, your relationship with Jake blossomed into something even more special. The bond you shared, built on a foundation of friendship, grew stronger with each passing day.

[halfbloodprill]

Some smut for Luke, he and the reader are exes, and at one of the bonfire parties, Luke sees the reader flirting with another guy, and he gets jealous, something with enemies to lovers. :)

authors note- hiii thank you for leaving this request i LOVEEE it. i’m so sorry it took me so long to get to it i have been crazy busy 😣 i hope u enjoy <3

smut below!!

Things with luke worked for exactly 8 months. it was great. you had picnics together, you trained together, and you always shared your evenings together at the bonfires. you laughed and loved each other, your energy feeding into the growing flames with embers flitting through the smoke. towards the end, things got rocky. luke became a more angry person. even if he wasn’t outwardly angry, you saw the scowl that had now seemed to permanently rest on his face when he was deep in thought. you never missed the acerbic comments he made about the gods every once in a while that you just chose to ignore for avoidance of sparking another debate about how awful the gods were at being parents. this tension left unhappiness tainting your relationship, so you called it quits. Luke was hesitant and when you finally got all your stuff back, he was angry at your decision to leave him. in complete disbelief. the camp’s golden boy was dumped? how?

it was quite the scandal at camp too. the seemingly happy couple decides to call it quits. people whispered for a few weeks but eventually it all died down. you missed him though and you knew he felt the same way too. you never missed his stares across the fields or during meals, and you never stopped yourself from searching for his familiar face during the day. but you knew this wasn’t healthy anymore. so you wanted to branch out more, and tonight’s celebration would be the perfect time to mingle as every cabin gathered around the bonfire.

you had set your eyes on a tall Ares kid. He seemed nice enough, a bit gruff at times but you were determined. you put your hair up in your best style and put on the slightest hint of makeup ( courtesy of the Aphrodite kids) and made your move. you left your seat from your friends and walked over to sit next to him instead. you settled between him and his sibling. he sat in a perplexed manner until you introduced yourself with your soft voice and extended a hand. He took your hand, engulfing it with his much bigger one, and you got to talking. everyone was engulfed in conversations. no one paid attention, except you could feel a pair of watchful eyes. you look across the flames as the Ares child talks of something Clarisse did recently and you see a pair of eyes, one lacerated with a scar, peering angrily back at you. you held eye contact firmly. you slowly peeled your eyes from luke and back to the ares boy, laughing at his remarks and placing your soft hand on his forearm. your knees were touching and he had a flush on his face that was not from the heat of the dancing flame.

luke felt anger boiling in his stomach. yes you two were over but there is no reason for you to be touching that ares boy like that. you were his. always his. he would show you. He continued to watch as you laughed and thoughtlessly played with his hands. he noticed that somehow you two were getting closer. he jumped from his own seat when he saw that you two were standing up and trying to retreat back to one of the cabins. He stormed over before you two could leave.

“Hey man. I’ll take it from here,” luke intervened.

You both stared at him in pure confusion.

“I’ve got her. We were gonna go somewhere more quiet,” the ares boy replied. you clung to his arm which furthered lukes anger.

“No I wouldn’t advise that. She can come with me now. Right, sweetheart?” luke looked at you and you firmly held his eye contact.

“No, luke. I wanna go with him,” you answered in a firm manner while looking at the ares boy.

“You don’t even know his name. He just wants a quick fuck. Some whore to help him do what his hand can’t do anymore. You’re coming with me. Now.” Luke’s voice was stronger and he grabbed your wrist tightly.

“Hey that’s not true. She can think for herself. this is why she dumped you,” the ares boy replied, now growing tired of Lukes interference. you winced at his unwise words.

“Are you still here? I told you to leave her the fuck alone. You can go now,” lukes eyes flashed with anger. He pulled your wrist and you towards him successfully. He continued to pull you along with him and back towards the cabins.

“Luke where the fuck are you taking me?” You questioned as you stumbled behind him.

“Shut your fucking mouth and just follow. You always have to ask your questions,” luke replied heatedly. so you continued to follow him until you saw a building in front of you.

“Why are we at the Ares cabin?” you questioned.

“Just shut the fuck up and go inside,” luke says annoyed and pulls you inside. he leads you to one of the bunks and pushes you on.

“did you forget you’re mine? i’ll have to remind you,” luke basically growls.

he kisses firmly. his teeth are clashing with yours. his tongue is swirling in your mouth. You can’t keep up with his pace.he’s ducking your tongue and searching every inch of your mouth with his own tongue. he missed the familiarity of your mouth. his hands are firmly in your hair and cradling your head. he can smell your shampoo on you. he’s still sucking at your mouth when he comes up for air, panting and a string of saliva connecting you two.

“missed you so much princess. need to remind you who you belong to,” he says before he started to attack your neck. he’s nipping at your neck, sure to leave marks on the column and side of your throat. you’re whining at the feeling of his teeth on your neck and hips wiggling from the stimulation. he’s kissing up your neck and to your chin and mouth again before he sloppily kisses you again. saliva coating his own mouth and chin from his attacks on your neck. your mind has already gone fuzzy. his hands are finding the button and zipper of your jean shorts and tugging them down as you kick off your shoes. he laughs at the eagerness of your movements and starts to grab the hem of your shirt. he makes eye contact with you in a way that asks if you’re sure that you want this.

of course you do.

he pulls the shirt over your head while you lay back onto your elbows. he’s spreading your legs and stares at your pussy in a tantalizing manner. He groans at the sight of your glistening folds. it’s quiet before you hear him and feel him spit on your cunt. he lays his tongue flat on you and your head is thrown back at the pleasure of his tongue on your heat. he’s attacking your cunt. his tongue goes from fucking inside your tight hole and sucking vigorously at your clit. the amount of pleasure has your grasping at the sheets and pulling at his hair, grinding your hips against his face. he pulls back, chin and mouth glistening before speaking. “Someone’s eager huh? do you think he could’ve fucked you this good?”

you shake your head dumbly and pray he goes back to his ministrations. he leans back down and you can feel the tip of his nose gliding against your wet clit. the pressure alone has you squirming so much he has to put a hand against your stomach to hold you down. before you can cum, he pulls away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“you’re ready now, right? you can take me? you’re lucky i even prepped you,” he says with a malicious glint. he pulls his cock out and you can only stare at it. it’s so pretty. so long and veiny. he holds his hand out expectantly before saying “spit.”

you gather spit and spit onto his hand before he rubs his length. he grabs it and measures it over your stomach to see how deep it will be reaching inside you. “It’s been too long without your pussy baby. you’re sure you can still take me?”

you nod quickly because you just are so needy and need him in you so badly. to feel him using and bruising your gummy walls with the head of his cock and every vein you feel so well.”

“I can take it. Swear I can. I’m your good girl still. wanna be good and warm for you please sir,” you start whining and begging in such a pathetic manner. luke coos at you for how pathetic you look. “my baby is so desperate yeah?” he says before he reaches down and cups for face with one hand. he slaps you a few times. “take it slut,” he growls before he plunges in fully without a warning. the air has been pushed from your lungs and you whine loudly at how quick he intruded.

he starts a brutal pace. his hands goes from your cheek to around your throat, the other one pushing down on your stomach.

“you feel me here right? so deep. you’re mine. all mine. gonna put a baby right here. show everyone,” he says while pushing harder to emphasize. your head is fuzzy because of the lack of air, from the pleasure and his words that turn your brain to goo.

“yesss i’m yours sir. i wanna be yours. always. give me a baby. bree- breed me,” you slur out.

“oh shit yeah. i’m gonna breed you. that’s all you are. a toy for me. gonna cum as many times as it takes for you to be round with my baby. fuc-fuckk,” he says as hr throws his head back.

he’s fucking you hard still. and you’re so brain dead until you hear voices growing closer and realize the bonfire has ended and campers are heading to the cabin.

“Luke! they’re coming back, stop!” you exclaim. your face painted in worry.

“Let them. Hope he sees who you belong to. only one who’s gonna come is you. right. now,” he punctuates those words with hard thrusts that have your eyes rolling back. you’re teetering on the edge and finally crash over, but see the light from outside as the cabin door opens.

[noodyl-blasstal]

Careless Whisper

It's day 28 of @taznovembercelebration - we're so close to the end! Today's prompt was "whisper" so enjoy! Read below or on Ao3. Missed yesterday? Here it is!

-

“You have a crush on Taako?” Yells Sloane at a higher volume than anyone has ever reached before and ever could again.

“Ssssh” Kravitz hisses. He jumps to his feet and wishes he could move this quickly when they were transitioning from floor to standing work in gym class. Klarg always looked slightly pitying as he wormed his way slowly to his feet.

Kravitz looks around desperately, maybe no one heard, maybe no one’s nearby? Fuck. There’s someone by the pond… wait, it’s not Taako, it’s Paloma, the tiny old lady who lives a few floors down. She probably couldn’t hear anything, no matter how loudly Sloane yelled, it was fine.

“What?” Sloane says, her voice magically lower again, massive grin fixed on her face.

“You can’t just go yelling secrets!” Kravitz tries to maintain a level of indignation despite his relief.

“Yeah. sure… secrets.” Sloane snorts out a little laugh.

“Why are you laughing?” Kravitz scans the courtyard again, okay, he’s probably fine, no one else is here.

“No reason.” She’s infuriating.

Kravitz sits back down on their picnic blanket. “Do you think it’s not a secret?” He asks quietly, because he, unlike some people, knows the proper volume at which to hold this conversation.

“It’s not not not a secret.” She runs her fingers through the grass and doesn’t look at Kravitz.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s not not a secret because you, you know, haven’t told him.”

Kravitz nods happily.

“But it’s also not-not not a secret, because you’re always goopy when he’s around. You got him those flowers!”

“I get you flowers!”

“Yeah, and you’re not trying to bone down with me.”

“I don’t just want to bone down with Taako!”

“Awwwww.” Sloane kicks her feet up into the air. “Taako and Kravitz kissing in a tree, K I S S I N G!

“Sloane, you have to stop”

She just grins happily.

“Hey!” A familiar voice yells from up above. “Hey, handsome!”

Kravitz looks straight up at Taako’s balcony. He’s treated to the sight of Taako wearing the tiniest black pyjama shorts, a massive frou frou pink robe, and nothing else. Nothing else, he’s perfect.

“Are you okay?” Kravitz shouts up. Hopefully Taako’s not having some kind of emergency, Kravitz could start trying to climb the balconies now, that single session of bouldering before his arms hurt too much would probably stand him in good stead.

“Taako’s fine, my guy.” Taako waves and gives a thumbs up to illuminate this point.

“Then why did you shout?”

“Oh, I have a crush on you too.” Taako says, or rather yells, like it’s no big deal, like people just say these things.

“How did you…?”

“Paloma texted me.”

Kravitz turns to glare and she waves happily from the bench by the pond.

“You’re welcome!” She shouts.

He’d love to not be having this conversation at this volume. Now the only thing that could make this worse was…

“…Magnus!” Yells Magnus, winded, but still as peppy as usual. “I saw some messages in the group chat that said I had to get down here.”

Kravitz sighs, deeply, right down to his boots.

“Are you serious, Taako? You have to tell me if this is a joke.” Kravitz tries his best to ignore the fact that Lup and Barry have definitely just sidled out of the door, pretending to be transfixed by one of the trees.

“No joke my guy, Taako would ride you right into the sunset.” There’s a loud whoop from somewhere suspiciously near Paloma.

“Shall we have this conversation in private?” Kravitz shouts back. You know, maybe so his insides stopped liquifying with the embarrassment.

“I thought you were into shakespeare? This is basically Romeo and Juliet, Taako should know, he read the spark notes.”

“Did you plan this?”

“Do you like it?”

“I like bits of it.”

“I like your bits.” Taako hollers.

“Can I come up?” Kravitz asks, hopeful that direct action might save him having to have this conversation in public.

“Ooooh, you move fast. I like it. See you in 5.”

Kravitz runs all the way to the lift.

--

Enjoyed this and want some more? Find tomorrow's here.

[510amy5]

On April 8 I got to experience something absolutely incredible: a total solar eclipse. Its hard to express just how exciting this was for me but here goes.

I have always loved space, ever since I was a kid. I played the Magic School Bus planets game, I read about how the moon affects our tides, I learned how to make a pin hole projector for watching a partial solar eclipse at 5 years old. I started learning constellations (my fav has always been Cassiopeia) and could find north using the stars by the time I was 8. When I was 10, our family Christmas gift was a very large and fancy telescope. Suddenly I was no longer limited to my naked eyes. We spent a couple nights a week all summer looking at anything interesting we could find in the night sky. I learned to use a star chart, locate the planets on the ecliptic and of course operate our telescope (which was powerful enough that the rotation of earth was noticeable over the course of a couple mins). This is when I came up with my space bucket list.

Some items were ones I saw before the list was created, but they were amazing and helped inform my items yet to be experienced.

Space things I've seen:

Rocks on the moon

Craters on mars

Rings of Saturn

Jupiter's spot

Binary star system

Total lunar eclipse

The international space station (through telescope)

Moons around Mars, Jupiter and Saturn

Venus transit of the sun

Total solar eclipse

Space things I want to see:

Shuttle launch

Aurora borealis

Rings of Neptune

An asteroid

A comet

I was over the moon (pun intended) when I found out that I was near the path of totality for this eclipse. 20 mins drive to move an item from the bottom list to the top one. That's what this started as for me, a box to check and an opportunity to say "that was cool".

So I drove with my parents and my baby and we setup our lawn chairs at the community centre in the town south of us. Its a tiny, middle of nowhere town where everything closes on Sundays and they only have 1 traffic light. Suddenly it was on the map as people traveled in to experience the eclipse. It felt like a big picnic with people chatting and sitting out with their families, pulling out their special glasses every few moments to look up.

I watched as the moon sliced away at the sun. Bit by bit the light got darker and weirder and the temperature dropped. It was exciting but there was also something viscerally unsettling about it. My mind knew this was fun but my body knew something was WRONG. The sun is such an easy thing to take for granted. Its always there, shining away just the same. But when something so fundamental changes, your body notices. This was a duality of experience I never expected.

Then we finally reached the point of totality. This was the moment I had been waiting for, my check box experience. But it was way more than just cool. The world went dark, street lights coming on and birds breaking out in sudden confused song. The people around me cheered and hugged. And I, as I so often have before, I looked up. Understanding the mechanics of an eclipse and having it described couldn't come close to what I was now looking at. I expected a hole in the sky but you could still see the outline of the moon. Not like a "ring of fire" eclipse, but just because the sun puts out that much light and power. The tendrils of the corona reached as far into space as the sun was wide, waved and curled into lines way more organic than the sun beams I always imagined. I had heard the corona was going to make a good show due to this year being the solar maximum but that was an understatement. It was like being on an alien planet orbiting a weird star. I took a quick video for a friend and then just soaked up the moment. Totality only lasts a couple mins and too soon a diamond spark appeared on the edge. No longer safe to look at. We donned our glasses and just stared in awe. It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.

Other groups started to pack up around us. We waited though, watching as the sun slowly regained purchase in the sky. The birds stopped singing, the light normalized. I changed my baby's diaper before we hopped in the car to drive home.

In history and media, a total eclipse is often seen as the beginning of the apocalypse or an omen of some kind and I can see why. It is an experience so alien and rare that it must have some deeper meaning right? I agree. In my case however, what I see is the beauty of God's creation. I see all the factors that lined up to give me the gift of this experience and I see His hand. Now I sit and work to find the words to convey an indescribable event, hoping I can share some of this experience. I can only hope I live to see this sight again.

[soulkeeper801]

Unexpected - Twice’s Sana pt 2

(A/N: Part 1)

Minatozaki Sana x f!reader

Fluff

--

Part 2

“Purple shirt, white backpack. Purple shirt, white backpack,” Sana repeated the description you gave her as a mantra so she wouldn’t forget.

As soon as she arrived, she noticed the place was crowded. The usual quiet cafe she visits every once in a while was now a little chaotic. She wandered around the shop trying to get a look at the inside but all the tables were occupied and no one seemed to match your description.

She sighed. It was ten minutes earlier than the time you agreed yet she couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. Were you not going to appear? Were you going to bail on her?

Usually it is not hard for her to meet new people. She has always considered herself a very outgoing and friendly person. However, the way you both connected was on a level Sana hadn’t felt in a while. She liked spending hours talking to you over texts and eventually listening to your voice through voice messages, even if they seemed to be meaningless conversations, it made her day.

She took another look at the inside of the little cafe before checking her phone to see if you had sent any text. At that point, she would have accepted any excuse if that meant you would keep talking somehow.

“How were you expecting us to get in there?” 

Sana recognized the voice immediately.  

You had your hands inside your pockets and your gaze was directed to the cafe’s interior. The purple shirt had the sleeves rolled up until your elbows and the white backpack hung from both of your shoulders. She smiled wholeheartedly, even if you weren’t looking at her yet. You matched exactly the idea she had of you.

When you finally turned your head towards her and your gazes made contact for the first time, she chuckled at the question you had asked before, feeling shy out of a sudden.

“Y/N…” she said in the softest voice you had ever heard.

It brought a sincere smile to your face. She looked way cuter than expected and you were trying to play it cool.

“This is usually a really quiet place, I don’t know why there are so many people today,” she explained, redirecting her gaze to the interior, not finding one free spot for you to sit.

“Maybe they heard we were coming,” you replied, pulling another chuckle out of her. “What if…” you said, trying to come up with a plan b, “we get some take out and eat it by the river?”

Sana’s eyes sparked at the idea but her expression turned doubtful after a second, “I would love to, but aren’t we a bit far?”

You smiled widely, “good thing I have a spare helmet for you”.

---

After stopping by at a small restaurant and getting everything ready for the improvised picnic you suggested, you both arrived at the place. 

"I've got a blanket in my bag," you said, unfolding it and placing it on the green grass. 

She quickly sat down and helped you get the food out, "I didn't realize I was this hungry until I saw that lady packing our orders," she said, waiting for you to sit down so you could start eating. 

You grinned at her, "I know, you looked like those noodles were the love of your life". 

She nudged your arm playfully, chuckling one more time at something silly you had said, "do you always say lame jokes?" she asked with a grin as she took the chopsticks to pick up some vegetables. 

"Only when I'm nervous," you admitted, not making eye contact with her. You took a piece of chicken from your plate and put it in your mouth, chewing slowly trying to drag your actions so you could avoid her gaze after what you said.

But a big smile had already formed on her face at your statement. “Why are you nervous?”

“I have this condition,” you said, and she turned serious again, afraid she might have just crossed a boundary or made you feel uncomfortable, “I get very nervous whenever I’m around a pretty girl”.

She smacked your arm, for real this time, making you chuckle at the expected reaction. “Why are you like this, Y/N?! You scared me!”

Her giggles made you smile. The way you could joke around each other felt like you had met years ago, even if a mere week before you didn’t know you would be here. 

You opened a can of soda and passed it to her, opening yours and holding it in the air. 

“To what?” she asked, waiting for you to propose a toast.

“To you,” you simply answered, “Thank you for treating me to coffee this afternoon”.

She shook her head trying to suppress a revealing smile. A smile that would let you know how much she enjoyed your company. 

That wasn't coffee, you weren't at her usual quiet café, the location wasn't what you had planned, yet it all summed up to the both of you spending the afternoon together, enjoying being around each other. 

"To this," she said, eyeing the food in front of you, the sodas, the blanket, your belongings, both of you, "to whatever we have going on here”.

You nodded your head enthusiastically and drank from your can. The light from the sunset was reflecting on your face as you let out a deep sigh of content. You didn’t know but Sana was looking at you dearly. As if she was trying to engrave the moment.

“This is so pretty,” she whispered, taking a look at the orangey color the sun had painted the sky.

“So pretty,” you replied, studying her features.

Sana was beautiful. 

You knew that the moment you first saw her pictures. None of them did justice to how pretty she is in real life. From the beginning you knew it would be so hard to even have a chance with her, yet the way things happened surprised you in the best way possible.

“So…” Sana trailed off as she gathered the plates and chopsticks to put them in a plastic bag, “my friend is throwing a party this friday,” she said, her gaze on the blanket trying to avoid your eyes. 

Her tone sounded like an invitation, yet you didn’t want to jump into conclusions.

“What kind of party?”

Sana took a couple of seconds to answer. Maybe a little more than a couple. It was almost as if she wasn’t prepared for that question.

“A birthday party,” Sana lied. “My friend Tzuyu is turning 24 today and she’s throwing a birthday party on Friday to celebrate. Wanna come?”

There was no birthday party. Tzuyu’s birthday was months away and even if it was near she wouldn’t want to throw a party. Sana wanted to see you again and found the most difficult way to do it.

Why didn’t she just ask you out? You would have said yes in the blink of an eye.

You weren’t a fan of parties either. There were always too many people, loud noise that wouldn’t let you talk peacefully, drunk people to deal with.

“Sure,” you said, simply because you took whatever chance the world would throw at you to see her again.

She gave you a wide smile.

“Let me take you to your home?” you offered, showing her the spare helmet she had worn before. 

After almost 20 minutes you arrived at her shared apartment. She had mentioned this Tzuyu girl she lived with and another one whose name you couldn’t remember. 

In front of the building both of you were standing face to face as neither of you wanted to say goodbye. She kept thanking you for bringing her home safely and you kept on saying it was the least you could do after spending such a nice evening with her.

“Unnie?” a tall girl who arrived on a bike called from a couple meters away.

Sana turned towards her, giving her a smile. “Tzuyu!”

You turned around and took a look at her, bowing your head as a greeting and receiving the same gesture from the younger girl. 

Then you remembered. “Happy birthday, by the way,” you said politely, bowing your head at her one more time.

Tzuyu gave a confused look. “Wh-”

“Oh, yeah,” Sana said nervously, grabbing the taller girl by the arm and pushing her through the door. “The birthday girl has stuff to do,” she continued, closing the door after Tzuyu disappeared. 

You blinked repeatedly at the scene but limited yourself to nod. “I will be seeing you on Friday then”.

Sana nodded, “yes,” she simply replied, watching you make your way towards your motorbike. “Text me when you get home, alright?”

You winked at her, eliciting another shy smile.

When you were out of sight, Sana stepped into the house and rested her back on the door under the curious gaze of her roommates.

“We have to plan a party,” she said as her daydreaming smile faded away.

She had two days.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Ribbons and Rainstorms

Chapter 6 : Picnics in Springtime

----

<- Previous | Masterpost | Next ->

----

Roman took a deep breath, leaning his sword against the altar and taking a drink from the water flask he had with him. The sun was shining today and the weather was lovely for spring, surprisingly warm for so early in the year. For that reason Roman had decided to do his sword practice at the temple itself today rather than stay in his own garden or go to the Training Centre.

He might have been better off doing that, they had proper training dummies at the Centre and the volunteer mentors hung around to give advice, but Roman found he already enjoyed this much more. He had carried his own training dummy (old and beaten, he was certain he’d left a trail of straw behind him, but still usable) alongside his training bag packed with food from Ma and his other gear to the temple in the morning. He’d been practising for hours, to the point that he was sure the stances and moves he had been working on were ingrained into his brain. He wouldn’t arrive at his next training session without knowing these by heart.  

By midday, though, Roman was exhausted and bored of swinging his sword back and forth. His arms felt like they were quickly reaching their limit and Roman knew from past experiences that pushing it didn’t help him get better. He’d done his cool down stretches and changed out of his training gear into the spare set of clothes he had brought with him with a sigh of relief. Training felt great whilst he was doing it, but feeling sticky and hot afterwards was horrible. But now he was in a loose shirt and trousers, he’d completely ditched shoes in favour of relaxing his aching feet whilst he set about eating the lunch Taz had packed for him.

She had packed more food that Roman would eat, but she always did. No matter how many times he told her that he really didn’t need that much when he went to train, she still gave him more than enough. He sighed, sitting down on the altar and crossing his ankles as he unwrapped the package she had given him, investigating what she had put in it this time. 

He had only just started nibbling on the corner of a sandwich filled with strawberry jam when he felt a strong breeze flow through the temple, tugging at his bangs and the ribbon tied around his bun. He looked up just soon enough to see Vi materialise in the doorway from purple sparks and the breeze itself. 

“Hello!” Roman said, face breaking into a grin. Was this the first time Vi had appeared when it wasn’t storming?

“Hey,” Vi smiled, walking over, glancing at Roman’s sword and overflowing bag, “You’ve been productive?”

“I’ve been training all morning,” Roman nodded in confirmation, “I only just finished actually.”

“I wish I could’ve come earlier,” Vi said, “It would’ve been nice to watch.”

Roman ducked his head to hide the blush on his cheeks and in doing so noticed the food again, he hummed, wrapping up the package again before rummaging through his bag… yes! He had the rug. 

“Hey Vi?” Roman called, already pulling the rug out from where it had been stuffed under the rest of his things, Vi hummed, turning to face him head tilted to the side, “You wanna have a picnic?”

“A picnic?” Vi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah— uh— since it’s nice out, we could go outside and sit on the grass and eat this food and just… enjoy each other’s company? I guess, sorry, that’s weird isn’t it—" Roman couldn’t help but ramble, now feeling far too awkward. 

“No no—" Vi said, raising his hands, eyes widening, “That’s not what I meant— I’d like to do that, I— don’t think it's weird.”

“Oh— uh— wonderful!” Roman smiled, “I have a blanket, and this food— so…”

“Isn’t that your food?” Vi asked, tilting his head.

“Ma packed me enough for… I think at least three people,” Roman shrugged, “She always does, it’ll be fine.”

Vi chuckled, “If you’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Roman nodded, “Could you hold this for a moment?”

Nodding, Vi took the rug Roman held out and inspected its tartan pattern whilst Roman collected the food properly, making sure to keep note of which sandwich he had eaten the corner of before gesturing for them to follow him out of the temple. 

—-

Once they had found a relatively sunny and flat space on the ground, Roman handed the food to Vi and laid out the rug, finding rocks to hold down the corners so that it didn’t get blown away before sitting down and gesturing for Vi to do the same. Together they laid out the food between them, Roman took his nibbled sandwich and smiled. 

“Feel free to take whatever you want,” Roman said before taking a bite of the sandwich and getting jam everywhere, “Oh shit— hey! Don’t laugh at me—"

Vi covered his mouth to try and hide the low chuckling, but their shoulders still shook silently as they offered a white handkerchief, “Here, use this.”

“Thanks,” Roman said, taking it and wiping away the jam. When he was done with it, the fabric crackled and disappeared as Vi snapped his fingers, startling Roman into staring wide eyed at Vi.

“What is it?” Vi asked, tilting their head to the side. 

“I— sorry just, sometimes I uh— I forget you can just— do stuff like that,” Roman said, shaking his head to snap himself out of it, “it surprised me.”

“Ah, my apologies,” Vi said, frowning.

“No it’s not— not bad, I just—" Roman paused, sighing, “I just forget sometimes, I mean, how often do mortals get to be friends with Gods?”

“Not very,” Vi answered, “With me, at least, I’m fairly certain Pat has many mortal friends.”

“Really?” Roman asked, before taking another bite of the sandwich, this time avoiding making a mess. 

Vi hummed, “Pat enjoys interacting with you all, he tends to go in disguise, of course, but he often hangs around their temples and interacts with people who visit. Some of us actually prefer to live in the mortal world rather than the astral one.”

“You can just— do that?” Roman asked, leaning forward. Vi nodded, picking up and unwrapping a mini cupcake.

“If the job can still be done, yes. I would struggle to live full time in the mortal plane, considering that storms are so vast and difficult to control at the best of times and I cannot be many places at once in this realm — I can make exceptions to come here, though. Some of the others — Remy and Em especially — live entirely in the mortal realm.”

“Fascinating,” Roman said, grinning as he reached for some of the dried fruits set out in front of them, “Y’know, something else I’ve always found interesting is your naming conventions.”

Vi didn’t reply for a second as they finished off the cupcake and picked the crumbs from the paper wrapper, before looking up, “Really? How so?”

“Well— they’re all one syllable, and almost all of them are two or three letters — other than Remy… for some reason,” Roman said, “They all sound a bit like mortal nicknames too, like— uh— my Ma’s called Tazmin, but everyone calls her Taz?”

Vi laughed again and Roman revelled in the way their eyes glowed brighter when they did, “That’s because they are.”

“What do you mean, they are?” Roman asked, leaning forward even more, Vi covered his mouth to hide the laughter again and Roman wished for a second that he would stop that, Roman wanted to see their smile.

“They are nicknames, not given by mortals, but based around the concept, our real names are a well kept secret — aside from Remy’s, that’s his real name, it’s common knowledge now,” Vi shook his head, “That’s why it’s different.”

“Why’s that?” Roman asked.

“Well uh… Remy likes to… sleep around? A lot? Especially with mortals and uhm, knowing a God’s true name is — to us — a prerequisite to being close to someone, in any way at all— not just sexually,” Vi tried to explain, face steadily going a bright shade of pink as he spoke, Roman giggled, “So… yeah.”

“So — so wait—" Roman laughed, “We know Remy’s name because he slept with too many people?” 

“Exactly,” Vi nodded, a small smile on their face once again. 

“So ‘Vi’ isn’t your real name, then?” Roman asked, popping a slice of dried apple into his mouth, Vi hummed and shook his head. 

“It’s not,” he said.

“And, um… if I were to ask you for your real name,” Roman said slowly, “How would that be interpreted?”

Vi’s face flamed red again, making Roman smile, a surge of boldness welling up inside him, “Well I uh— it would depend on context and the person, but with you I uh— I would assume you were asking to be intimate with me, um— at the very least you’d be telling me you’d like to be in a— um— a more romantic relationship than a friendship and— at most you’d be asking to sleep with me.”

Now it was Roman’s turn to blush, before muttering, “So... Basically the same thing as hairpins then…”

“What was that?” Vi asked, tilting their head and leaning forward a little. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Roman shook his head, waving his hands, “Just that there’s an equivalent for that in our culture too.”

“Ah, I see, what is it?” Vi asked.

“Gifting, um, hairpins, or other little accessories,” Roman said, looking at the floor to avoid looking at the way Vi’s expression morphed from interested to startled to unbelievably flustered. 

“Oh skies,” Vi said, covering his face, “I didn’t know that.”

“I assumed,” Roman reassured, “No worries, really.”

“I suppose that’s why you didn’t wear it?” Vi asked, Roman nodded, covering his face, “And also the reason why you gave me the ribbon straight afterwards?” 

“A little?” Roman said, “I wasn’t sure if you knew what they meant, and um— I wasn’t exactly comfortable jumping to an intimate relationship that quickly.”

Vi nods, “To clarify, I had no idea what they meant and I deeply apologise if I caused you stress by it, I didn’t have any interest in a relationship with you at that point either.”

Roman paused, “The way you worded that makes it sound like your viewpoint has changed since then,” he pointed out, he thought it was a little hopeful, because now that he really thought about it, he… might not be so hesitant to wear that hairpin now. At the same time, it was probably also a completely stupid thing to say. 

“Let’s just say, um,” Vi said, turning his face away, “Now that I know about the hairpins, I… would still give it to you today.”

Roman ducked his head, unable to stop himself from grinning even as he covered his face with a hand to hide the blush, “In that case— uh— Vi, may I have your name?”

Silently, Vi stared at him for just long enough for Roman to start regretting opening his stupid mouth before they stood up from the rug and walked over to sit back down right next to him rather than across. Roman couldn’t help but stare as Vi took his hand from where it rested on his knee. 

“It’s Virgil,” Vi — Virgil? Said quietly, “My true name is Virgil.”

“Oh!” Roman gasped, suddenly finding himself grinning again as Virgil (Virgil!) went red, “I love that!”

“You do?” They asked, fidgeting with Roman’s fingers. He glanced at their joined hands for a moment, wondering if Vi realised they were doing it. 

“Of course,” Roman said, leading forward with a grin, “Virgil.”

Virgil seemed to choke on a breath, getting somehow even redder. Roman had never seen him this red and how funny was that?

“Roman,” Virgil said, squeezing his hand, his tone sending tingles down Roman’s spine, “Unless you tell me not to in the next five seconds, I’m going to kiss you.”

“Don’t wait five seconds,” Roman said, leaning forwards with all too much confidence. He had no idea what possessed him to say such a thing, but when it was Virgil offering and not just Roman thinking about it… somehow made it so much easier to reach for.

Virgil met him in the middle, his free hand cupping Roman’s cheek and his other lacing his fingers with Roman’s as their lips brushed in barely more than a touch. Roman jolted at the feeling — like the full crackling force of a storm was suddenly running through his veins — Roman hadn’t been prepared to feel in the slightest. Virgil pulled back even faster than they had leant in, staring at Roman with wide, worried eyes.

“Did I hurt you?” Virgil asked, sounding more afraid than Roman had ever heard them. Roman touched a finger to his own lips where they still tingled from the kiss and took a deep breath. The exhilaration from the barely-kiss was already fizzling out through his fingers and toes, he wanted it back. He wanted to feel that again.

“No,” Roman answered, slightly breathless, “Not in the slightest, I was just — unprepared.”

Virgil smiled again, fear ebbing from his expression as he squeezed Roman’s hand back, “...Are you prepared now?”

“Absolutely,” Roman said, “kiss me again, Virgil.”

Virgil didn’t hesitate to do just that.

—-

Roman wasn’t sure how much time it had been by the time he came down from the high of kissing a God — and that’s all they had done. Roman had kissed people before, but this was new and a little bit scary. Kissing a God — kissing Virgil — was somehow so different but so easy at the same time. It felt like being swept up in a hurricane, it felt like such colossal power being shared between them for just the moments their lips touched and… wow. Roman knew he’d never be able to describe it even remotely adequately. 

It was later in the afternoon now, the sun still high in the sky and bathing the both of them in spring warmth as Virgil wrapped an arm around Roman’s shoulder and Roman leant into his side. They had since returned to the food, though, and sat in comfortable silence as they finished off everything Taz had packed him.

The forest was quiet as the breeze tugged at the ribbon tied around Roman’s bun along with the strands of reddish-brown hair that had escaped it. Virgil’s loose hair had blown into their face at one point, making Roman laugh while giving him the opportunity to reach over and brush it back behind their pointed ear. The action had made the God blush and gently bat at his hand, leaving Roman with even more giggles.

Something was nagging at the back of his mind, though. The little voice in the back of his head that — though he tried so hard — he found difficult to ignore. 

It was stupid, he knew, Virgil wouldn’t have told Roman his name if he didn’t want this. They wouldn’t have kissed him, they wouldn’t have kept coming back to the temple to spend time with him if they didn’t really like him. They wouldn’t have put in the effort of getting advice from other Gods to help him with an issue that didn’t affect them in the slightest and he certainly wouldn’t have spent time attempting to participate in a culture that wasn’t even his own if they didn’t care about him. 

But despite all that Virgil had proven, Roman couldn’t help but think about the fact that he didn’t deserve this. He was nothing compared to Virgil, barely a speck in comparison. Roman couldn’t help but be certain that there were other, better options than him, hell, someone who wasn’t afraid of the very thing the God created might be a good start. He worried that he’d latched too strongly onto the first person who wasn’t his family that seemed to even somewhat enjoy his company. Was he annoying? Probably too clingy now that he’d warmed up to touch, he was sure it was only a matter of time before Virgil got tired of him. 

He didn’t even know what this really was. Was this a relationship now? Did Virgil see this as something else? He’d kissed people before, but it had always been heated and quick and secretive, never in the context of a more committed relationship. He was so unsure and felt so wrongfooted when it came to this, would Virgil notice? Would he expect Roman to be better? He might’ve initiated this, but he had not the faintest clue how to maintain or sustain it and he was terrified that the moment Virgil realised that it would be over. 

Virgil must have noticed the shift in his mood because they squeezed him tighter before letting him go just a little in order to look at his face.

“Roman, are you alright?” Virgil asked, voice soft and Roman cursed internally, of course they had noticed something was wrong. He hadn’t wanted to ruin the moment. 

“I’m fine,” Roman said, nodding, honestly? He didn’t think that lying would work, but at least he tried. 

“I don’t believe you,” Virgil said softly, yep, “You got really tense, am I hurting you?”

“No— no! Of course not,” Roman rushed to assure, “You’re not hurting me, Vi.”

“Then… what’s wrong?” Virgil asked, tilting his head. 

“I just— it’s stupid,” Roman mumbled, looking away.

“Surely you know I won't judge you by now,” Virgil told him, squeezing his shoulders again, “What’s wrong?”

“I just… my head is mean,” Roman huffed, Virgil raised an eyebrow, frown turning confused, “I just— I know it’s stupid but I keep thinking that— that I’m not… good enough for you, that there are so many better people out there and— and I’m scared I’m going to mess everything up because I’ve never done this before and you you’re — you’re so much more than I’ll ever be, Virgil, you’re a God, I’m just… some mortal with a sword.”

“You’re not just some mortal,” Virgil shook his head firmly, turning and putting his hands on Roman’s shoulders “You’re my mortal, You’re Roman and you’re kind, funny, sweet and so so brave, braver than I could ever be, and for the record, you’re very good with a sword.”

Roman squeaked and ducked his head in an attempt to hide both the blush and the forming tears, he couldn’t cry now, not at some little compliments. 

“Roman, look at me,” Virgil said, tilting up his chin before cupping his face with their hands, “You are good enough, okay? You are, and there’s no-one else I’d rather be here with right now, not another mortal and definitely not another one of the Gods.”

Virgil kissed his nose, Roman couldn’t help but giggle at the action despite the tears now running down his cheeks. Virgil brushed them away with his thumb.

“And if you’re scared of messing this up then— then I must be terrified,” They said, giving him a small, slightly awkward smile.

“You’re scared too?” Roman asked, meeting Virgil’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil nodded, “I’ve never done this before either.”

“You haven’t?”

“Not even once,” They laughed, “I know, I’ve been around long enough.”

Roman couldn’t help the snort of laughter as he ducked his head as much as Virgil’s hands on his cheeks would allow, “I didn’t mean that— well— I suppose maybe I did, but…”

“It’s alright,” Virgil said, “I’m just not very social.”

Smiling, Roman leaned forward to knock their noses together, revelling in the idea that he was able to freely give affection now, he didn’t have to worry about things going so wrong, hell they’d already kissed, a touch of noses barely compared.

“There’s a first time for everything, I suppose,” Roman said, with a smile, Virgil nodded. 

“That’s true,” Virgil grinned, before leaning just a few centimetres forward to capture Roman’s lips in another kiss, “There's also a second time.”

Roman rolled his eyes, unable to keep from laughing now, “That was hardly the second time, more like— the thirtieth, I haven’t been keeping count.”

“Neither have I, clearly,” Virgil said, shoulders shaking as they chuckled, “But really, Roman, please— please talk to me, if you have doubts or you’re upset, I’d hate for you to suffer with it alone, okay?”

Roman hesitated, he’d never been the kind of person who was happy to talk about his problems, he’d always tried to bottle them up and shove them away so that they didn’t bother others but… if Virgil really wanted to help him, wanted him to share the annoying thoughts then maybe…

“I can try,” Roman said eventually, Virgil smiled. 

“That’s all I ask.”

“What about you?” Roman asked, leaning back into Virgil’s side, “Anything you want to talk about?”

Virgil seemed startled, “Me?”

“Yeah I mean— you’re saying I should tell you about my problems, so— I want you to be ok with sharing yours with me too.”

“Oh,” Virgil nodded, “I see, yes, that… makes sense, I’ll come to you, if I ever need it.”

“Good,” Roman said, nuzzling closer. He knew he should probably be getting back soon, Ma would be getting worried that he’d been out for so long, but he couldn’t help but lean into Virgil’s warmth, relishing in his hold, “I’m here for you, Virgil.”

Virgil smiled and kissed the top of Roman’s head, “Same to you, Roman.”

----

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[eddiedoll]

Can I request a fic for eddie?

I have constant chronic pain. It is literally everywhere that has joints or muscle but it is the worst in the lower back, neck, shoulders and hands.

Sometimes it gets so bad I can't move without wanting to scream. And Sometimes my joints lock or my muscles seize and I literally can't move at at.

Rubbing or heating it helps, but I have never been able to get full relief. Partially to my inability to get close to people

I was wondering if you could write for a reader with something like this? (Or just normal chronic pain)

Maybe he didnt know about it (I tend to not share as it makes people pity me) till the reader has a bad day or locks up in front of them (sometimes my knees just buckle and I drop) (and then can't move for like thirty minutes).

Or just anything really, I'm having a bad day and would love the comfort

Loved your vamp Eddie BTW. Would love to see a part two if you want to write it :)

(So sorry this took me a few days to get around to writing! I hope you’re not in much pain atm :( I’m not well versed on chronic pain but I did a lil research so I hope its at least a lil factual! Thank you for the love on vamp!eddie <3333 a part 2 is on the way ~)

It doesn’t matter how much time passes, every now and then a new pain crops up in a muscle or joint you didn’t even know you had. Leaving you tender and slightly cranky at times.

No one apart from your parents knew about your condition, not wanting to see the looks of pity on people’s faces when they discover the constant acute pain you’re in. You hadn’t even told your boyfriend, Eddie. He was the epitome of a bleeding heart, and you knew as soon as you told him, he would flit around you constantly. He’d already stopped you from coming to his gigs for a while after a stray fist pump caught you in the temple. God knows how he would react to knowing how accustomed to that pain you already were.

You swear you’re good at hiding the ache deep set in your muscles but today was truly the worst flare-up you’d had in years. Every small movement left your joints screaming in agony and all you wanted to do was lay in bed, motionless, and wait for it to pass. For the roaring flames licking at your every limb to dull down to the usual small sparks. But you had promised Eddie that the two of you would go out for a picnic, since the weather was just cool enough to avoid the normal sticky-hot heat of Indiana summer.

Even lifting the empty picnic basket left you nearly in tears, gulping down the lump forming in your throat as you step out the door. The trailer park was usually a brisk 10 minute walk but, with every agonising step, it took you over half an hour before you were slightly limping down the stone path to his trailer.

He was sitting on his porch, wild hair contained in a low bun, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips. He was effervescent, even in his usual attire of a Judas Priest t-shirt and ragged black, ripped jeans. The second he spotted you, those doe eyes sparkled and he began to bound down the road to meet you. Forcing yourself to walk as normal as possible, you brace for the impact of his hug.

Long arms wrap tightly around your shoulders, further igniting the intense flames blazing inside you. The searing pain is only dampened by his hand rubbing softly along the backs of your shoulders, appeasing the burning phoenix nestled there.

“Hi, sweetheart. You ready to go? I got all the stuff ready on the table inside.”

Not trusting yourself to speak, you nod and allow him to guide you into his trailer. Each step feels like sharp needles being jabbed into the soles of your feet and you regret ever agreeing to this date.

“You ok, sweets? You’re looking a lil pale?”

You love Eddie, but at this moment, you hate just how perceptive he is. You look back from the table and try to give him a smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. “I’m ok, my love, just feeling a little under the weather today. Don’t worry about me, we have a picnic to get to!”

Hoping the mention of the picnic will distract him, you return to packing the picnic basket. Fingers cramping around the small cucumber sandwiches he’d obviously spent a while making, you sense his presence as he leans his head on top of yours.

“You sure? We can just chill here if you’re not feeling too good. I still have that copy of Ghostbusters that I convinced Steve to sneak out from Family Video.”

You love him, he is kind and sweet and just wants to make sure you’re ok.

You repeat these thoughts over and over in your mind, trying to extinguish the anger simmering low in your stomach. He did nothing to deserve your temper, but you were just in so much pain.

“C’mon darling, talk to me. Do you have a headache? Bad tummy? Do you have to poop?”

He lowers his voice at the end, jokingly as he pokes you in the side. The sting that emanates from the pressure is the final straw.

“Jesus, Eddie! Do you not want to go to the picnic or something? Can’t you just say that instead of trying to annoy me into not wanting to go? I said I’m fine, why can you not just drop it!”

Obviously not expecting your reaction, he recoils slightly, hands frozen as they hover over your sides. You feel awful for yelling at him but the way you tensed your whole body makes you feel like every nerve is igniting all at once. You go to turn to face him, leg twisting awkwardly, and before you can warn him, you drop to the floor, knees buckling under the intense pain.

You hit the ground, both knees slamming down painfully. Wincing, you know you won’t be able to move anytime soon so you resign yourself to slowly manoeuvring into a more comfortable position. Eddie finally snaps back into action, crouching down to match your line of sight.

“Sweetheart?! You ok? What happened? Do you need to go to the hospital? I can take you in the van, it’s not too far -”

Before he can work himself up into more of a panic, you reach out and grab his hand, silencing him. “No no, it’s fine. Honestly. This happens sometimes. I’m sorry for yelling, I’m just in a little bit of pain that’s all.”

“Little bit of pain? You’re shaking.”

You hadn’t even realised the hand wrapped around his is trembling slightly, too focused on the pain overtaking your body.

“I’m used to it, Eds. Just give me a few minutes.”

He huffs at this, moving to sit down across from you. His eyebrows are drawn tensely and you can already tell you’re about to receive one of his famous lectures.

“You’re not ok. You’re sweating and shaking and obviously in pain. You don’t need to hide it from me. I’m your boyfriend, I’m supposed to look after you if you’re not feeling well, the same way you look after me. Now what do you mean you’re used to it? Tell me what’s happening, I just wanna help you, darling.”

Despite the pain in your fingers, you entangle them around his, using them to ground yourself. Squeezing them periodically to stop them from fully seizing, you look into his worried eyes.

“Don’t go all mother hen on me, ok? I suffer from chronic pain. And I mean suffer. This shit sucks. Normally I can handle it, but I’m in the middle of a flare up so it feels like every single part of my body is on fire. All at the same time. I’ve had it for a while and it’s never been this bad.”

“Baby…”

There it is. The pity in his eyes. You hate it.

“Don’t you dare pity me, Eddie Munson. I can deal with it. It’s just sometimes my legs lock up or my knees buckle and it takes me a while to be able to get up and walk. I’ll be fine in like 30 minutes or so, and then we’re going on that damn picnic.”

The pity dissipates from his eyes, left with only mirth. He leans forward, pressing a small kiss to the furrow of your brow. “Ok, sweets. Damn, I don’t know how you do it. I get a cold and I’m out for a whole week. You’re, like, metal as fuck, you know that, right?”

You smile back, feeling your muscles slacken at his compliments, the flames rearing back a bit but still licking harshly at your muscles. Squeezing his hand once more, you smirk at him. “So that means I’m more metal than you?”

“Oh, definitely. Can’t believe I landed the most metal babe around. Damn, I’m lucky.”

“And don’t you forget it, Munson.”

You both sit for a moment, enjoying the comfortable silence surrounding you. Eddie moves, and you can almost see the lightbulb form over his head as he shoots up from the ground.

“Is there anything I can get you that will help? Wayne’s got a hot water bottle here somewhere for when his back plays up. Or we have frozen peas? We might have a tube of Deep Heat around here somewhere.”

You lie back slowly, wincing with every movement. “A hot water bottle would be great, thanks.”

He moves to find it somewhere in the mess of Wayne’s room. At least you knew where Eddie got it from. Eyes closing, you allow yourself to relax into the carpet, willing the ache in your muscles to slowly ebb away. You listen as he sets the kettle on the stove, the sound of the gas sparking to light.

A few minutes pass, and you hear the shuffle of his sock-bound feet moving towards you. Eyes opening, you smile weakly up at him as he hands you the full hot water bottle. You rest it on your chest, not wanting to risk popping the seal if you placed it under you, hoping the warmth will soak through to the back of your aching shoulders.

“Anything else I can do for you, my liege?” He dips his head in a clumsy bow, pulling a small giggle from you.

“No, I should be fine. Just gotta let it do its thing.”

He hums in response, coming to sit back down beside you. His hand rests on your knee, rubbing soothing circles into it. You can’t help the sigh of relief at the feeling of his fingers pressing through the tender joint. His hand freezes at the sound.

“I’m sorry, did that hurt? I did it without thinking, I’m sorry.” He goes to withdraw his hand but stops as a whine escapes you at the loss of warmth.

“No, it feels good. Sometimes massaging it helps with the achiness.”

He continues to rub your knee, pressing in a little deeper as he gauges your reaction. Attentive as always, he switches between deep presses and light squeezes, depending on whether you relax or tense at his actions.

“Then consider me your personal masseuse.”

—

The cucumber sandwiches still get eaten, your body resting against Eddie’s as the two of you slowly work your way through the feast. He insists on feeding you, not wanting your fingers to hurt anymore than they already do.

You never got to the picnic site, but you couldn’t think of a better way to get through your flare up than lying here on the scratchy trailer carpet floor with a boyfriend who alternates between massaging your knees and shoulders, and a cosy hot water bottle.

[kinglyisms]

♚ — @ebresos ;; Elijah & Leonis. ❛  please, just tell me the truth, even if it hurts. i can handle it.  ❜

   What an odd thing to say. 

   They’re having such a nice day. After all the stress, Elijah’s fears and him undoubtedly running away, Leonis just continued to come back. Continued to want to spend time with them and it was something that Elijah was–glad for. No matter his position, he always seemed to somehow find time to spend with Elijah and it was the most warming thing he’s ever seen. He has never seen anyone try that hard for him, not even when he was struggling to take care of Silas those first few days as a new father entirely alone. 

   They had gone out a bit into the forest, sitting beneath the sacred tree to enjoy a picnic. Elijah had made them sandwiches and Silas had fallen asleep with a full belly in Leonis’ lap. Head pillowed on his thighs he looked entirely relaxed and that hand that kept stroking gently over Silas’ head was obviously helping him with that. Wolves were very tactile creatures, they loved to be touched and they constantly sought it. Having that contact was the most important and relaxing thing to them. 

   And Leonis for some reason didn’t seem to mind. 

   The world that he came from was so different from Abarith. Where they feared the humans and hunters, the people of Eberoses seemed to fear the supernatural. But Leonis didn’t. He saw them shift once and didn’t even blink. Didn’t even flinch. He held Silas without fear and ran his hands through Elijah’s fur like it was just second nature. Like he could fall asleep in a pile of two wolves and not even flinch. Like he wanted it. 

   So much about this man was just entirely wrapped around Elijah’s world and it started with that sex they had in a closet. When he peeled Elijah’s uniform off of him hungrily and pinned him against the wall. Dirtying the clothes that were being hung in the closet and making enough noise that someone had to know what they were doing. Now they were sitting here, having a picnic, it definitely hadn’t been just meaningless sex. Just a King trying to work off some stress. It was something else, born so quickly and rapidly, like a fire created from a single spark. 

   Elijah swallowed at his own thoughts and turned his head toward the tree beside him, taking a soft breath as he let the quiet settle between them before answering Leonis’ words. 

   Tell him the truth. 

   “I think I’m in love with you.”

[deliriumsdelight7]

13 for hellcheer?

Oh COME ON you probably picked the perfect one. “Odd One” by Sick Puppies. This practically writes itself.

Throwing this under a cut for references to past child abuse.

“How do you do it?”

Eddie glanced up from where he was sparking up the joint the two of them were about to share. Chrissy was lying flat on her back on the picnic table, legs dangling over the edge from the knees down. His leather jacket padded the backs of her legs where her skirt left them bare, protecting all that soft-looking skin from any wayward splinters.

“Do what, Cunningham?” he asked, finally getting it to light. He took two inhales - puff, puff - and passed it over to her.

She accepted it readily, sitting up on her elbows to take a hit. “How do you deal with… all of that?” she clarified, gesturing toward the school. “I mean… they say such mean things about you, and it just… doesn’t bother you. They hate you, and you don’t care. How do you do it?”

“They hate me?” Clutching his chest as though he’d just received a mortal blow, he shot her a wry grin. “You mean I haven’t won over the masses with my rapier wit and devilish good looks?” Accepting the joint, he took another hit.

“Nope. Just me.”

Eddie nearly choked on his lungful of smoke. Only experience and sheer principle kept it in his lungs; he broke out the good shit when he smoked with Chrissy, and he wasn’t about to waste it on a one-liner that may or may not have been flirting.

No matter how pretty her smile was when she said it. No matter how often she’d come to see him since ditching her asshole boyfriend a month ago.

Stick to the topic, Munson, he scolded himself, asking the joint to buy himself a few seconds. “Ever heard the old saying, ‘sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me?’” he quipped, carefully avoiding the murky waters her words revealed.

“Of course I have.” He offered her the joint, which she refused with a wave and a shake of her head. Her arms wrapped around her middle, her shoulders hunching as if she was trying to protect herself from something. “But when those words come from people you love… people whose opinion matters to you… that hurts worse than anything.”

Eddie nodded in silence. He knew how that was. Twelve years living with his old man had taught him that, no matter what sort of marks were left behind by a fist, a belt, a lit cigarette, nothing left a lasting impression like cruel, cutting words that were targeted to the soft, gooey center. Especially when they came from a parent who was supposed to love you unconditionally.

And judging by the fingertip-shaped bruises he’d seen on her neck, upper arms and, on one occasion, her thighs, Chrissy knew that just as well as he did.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Cunningham,” he said, leaning in close as if to whisper in her ear. The smell of her cherry lip gloss and vanilla shampoo made his mouth water. But it was the fragile, hopeful look in her eyes that had him clenching his fists to keep from leaning in to kiss her. “You’re right. That shit hurts. Never stops hurting. Even after you’ve heard it a million times, that shit has a way of getting under your skin and festering.”

It didn’t take any effort at all for his brain to conjure up a thousand different epithets in a hundred different voices. Freak. Degenerate. Worthless piece of shit. Waste of space. Failure. Dead-ender.

He pushed them away with practiced ease - ease that he’d fought and struggled and clawed to obtain.

“But what you’ve gotta remember is,” he continued, “anybody who says that shit to you? Their opinions aren’t worth jack shit. Fuck every one of ‘em. If they can’t accept you, can’t - can’t love you for who you are, then they don’t deserve to take up space in your head.” Daringly, he tapped her forehead with one fingertip. “That there’s prime real estate, Cunningham. Don’t go giving it away to people who just wanna trash the place.”

“So who do I give it to?” she asked.

“Uhhh… artists? Landscapers? Builders? Sorry, the metaphor’s gotten away from me. Point is, you’ve gotta surround yourself with people who make you happy. Who make you feel safe. Like you’re enough just the way you are.” Eddie shrugged. “Fill the place up with people who build you up, and it gets easier to drown out the assholes.”

“Oh.” For nearly a minute, the two of them sat in silence. The only sounds were the wind in the trees and the creak of the picnic table as Chrissy slowly swung her legs back and forth. “Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

Chrissy leaned forward, and for one heartstopping moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. And she did, sort of, pressing her petal-soft lips to his cheek. When she pulled back, he could still feel the sticky-sweet imprint of her lip gloss.

“I care what you think.”

It took all his self-control not to whoop aloud. It wasn’t a declaration of passionate, everlasting infatuation, but it was a good start. He settled for bumping her forehead affectionately with his.

“Yeah, Cunningham,” he said, “I care what you think, too.”

[duskholland]

Stuck With(out) You - Mob!Tom Smut

tom was having a really nice day until the metropolitan police decided to crash his date.            or, when the law finally catches up to london’s most notorious mobster, tom learns that nothing is fair in love and war.

word count ↠ 15k. warnings ↠ angst with a happy ending, alcohol, a car chase, extensive depictions of prison, violence (very minor injury detail), tattooing, pregnancy, bad language, smut! there are extended nsfw warnings below the cut but this is 18+ so minors please do not interact.  a/n ↠ this is a work of fiction and is not meant to be taken 100% seriously! similarly to every other fic I’ve written about mob!tom, I don’t condone any of the actions shown in this story and all depictions of the mob and prison are entirely fictional. please do not date members of the mafia even if they are tom holland !!!!! + this fic was conceptualised before the release of cherry, and there are no purposeful links to the content of that film! the image from esquire that I’ve used is what led me down this path lmfao...esquire I love/hate you. ++ the biggest thank you ever to the wonderful @uglypastels​ for helping me with the initial brainstorm on this one, and for just generally being so supportive as I’ve struggled with writers block :’) I wouldn’t have ever been able to think this up let alone have the motivation to write this without you, so thank you and ily z <3  +++ there is a pov change halfway through this fic! it is intentional and you should be able to see it pretty easily but I’m just flagging it so you don’t think I lost it halfway through ahahha. enjoy!

nsfw warnings ↠ car sex, soft!dom!tom ft minor sir kink, oral and fingering (fem-receiving), multiple orgasms with brief refs to overstimulation, minor pregnancy kink, unprotected sex ft cumshot. 

✧ *:･ﾟStuck With(out) You･ﾟ:*✧

There’s something wrong with you, and Tom can’t quite put his finger on it.

He wonders if it’s the wine. He’d spent hours debating the type of grape and ideal bitterness, scouring his memory in search of the perfect blend to share with you on your date. Eventually, he’d settled on the same deep red that he’d shared with you the first time he’d visited your flat, back when your love was just a small spark. Three years have passed since then, the nerves of early romance melted away and replaced by knowing and love, but the wine has recurred each time one of you has decided to treat the other, so what better blend to bring along to the picnic that Tom had so meticulously planned?

You haven’t touched your glass, and Tom—for all his confidence and charm—is deeply unsettled by this.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks for what feels like the tenth time, with brows furrowed so tightly his forehead aches. Tom reaches across the gingham blanket to join your fingers together, surprised to feel the clamminess of your skin as you gently squeeze his hand.

You hum. “I’m fine,” you say, voice devoid of any intense emotion. You sigh softly before bringing your eyes to meet Tom’s, and the man feels his heart constrict in his chest. You’re perfect, even with your hair messy from the light spring wind and the nerves that sit across your face. When you squeeze his hand again, and Tom glances down to see the engagement ring on your fourth finger, the ache in his heart sharpens.

He never knew love could be this fulfilling, nor so easy. Breathing is harder than it is to love you.

“Okay,” he replies. “Do you want to go home?”

You’ve been so quiet for the entire date, which is strange because usually, you match his energy effortlessly. Tom has been away for a few weeks doing business in Liverpool, and this date by the river is the first time you’ve been properly alone since he returned. He’d really expected you to enjoy the date—or, on a very basic level, at least look like you want to be here. With your quiet answers, avoidance, and nervous stares, he can’t confidently say that you do.

You shake your head. “No, no.” You fiddle with some of his rings before pulling your hand away from his. As you sit up a little straighter, you turn away from Tom to stare instead at the River Thames.

The river behind you is lit by the mid-afternoon sun and flooded with boats. It’s such a lovely day that Tom almost doesn’t notice the horrible brown tinge to the water. Lining the bank are small groups of people—families, friends, couples, tourists. They all stay clear of the two of you, undoubtedly wary of the security guards lingering near their boss. He rarely goes out so obviously like this, but you’ve always loved London, and he’d wanted to treat you. He’d wanted this to be a nice day.

“You know you can talk to me, don’t you?” he checks, voice catching slightly.

Your eyes snap up to his quickly. “Tom,” you say, voice wrapped endearingly around his name. Moving easily, you slip closer to him, carefully shifting around the food and the glasses until you’re close enough to reach out and touch his cheek. “I love you.”

Tom’s teeth graze his lower lip as he feels you pad your thumb across his jaw. “I know,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze. “I love you too.” He pauses for a few moments, savouring the closeness and the scent of your rosy spritz. He’d missed you so much that it almost hurts to have you so close again. “I know you have something on your mind, darling… Can you tell me what it is? I want to help you.”

“I…” A breathy exhalation follows. You bring your hand away from his cheek and rest it on the red silk material covering his shoulder. He’s in a loose designer shirt, the top two buttons unbuttoned and showing off the silver-linked chain he has hanging from his neck. “Tom, I just…”

“What?”

A small smile twitches at your lips. “Not here,” you seem to decide, voice a little stronger. “I have something I need to show you.”

“At home?”

“Yeah.”

Tom feels the weight rolls from his shoulders. It’s fine—everything is fine. You want to let him in, want to trust him with the cause of your anxieties. You still want him.

“Let’s go, then,” he decides, knowing he’s far too impatient to spend another hour laying by the river. Tom offers you a hand, and you take it. He tugs you away from the picnic setup with ease. He doesn’t need to bother with putting the things away—someone else will do it. Just one of the perks of his job.

“I missed you,” you say, smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand as you walk together towards the car. “It gets lonely without you in the house. Our bed is ridiculously huge without two people in it.”

Tom chuckles. “Good job I’m back now then, eh?”

The noise you release is stacked full of so much relief it makes Tom feel guilty for ever leaving to begin with. As he watches the bright, genuine smile flow across your face when you meet his eyes, he resolves to never leave for business again. Never. Not without you.

“A very good job,” you clarify. When you reach the car together, Tom holds the door open for you, ushering you in dramatically until you’re laughing and making fun of him for fussing. The only way he can stop you from your jovial whines is by leaning across the dashboard and pressing his lips to yours, so really he can’t complain. “This car is stupid, too,” you decide.

“Oh, that’s too fucking far,” Tom murmurs, glancing in the rear mirror as he peels away from the pavement. He’s glad the air between you has lightened. You seem happier now you’ve decided to spill your secrets. He rests his hand on the back of your headrest as he twists in his seat, eyes on the road as he reverses. “This car is a beauty.”

“This car is confusing,” you say, and Tom feels you staring at the flex of his bicep. “I tried driving it when you were gone.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm. Couldn’t even get it up the drive.”

“Well, not to be rude, darling, but it’s hardly fair to blame my beautiful car for the fact that you’re an atrocious driver.”

If looks could kill, Tom knows he’d be six feet under.

“Fuck you, Tom,” you seethe, but your voice is charged with laughter. “I take it back. I didn’t miss you at all. Go back to Liverpool, see if I care.”

Tom cackles. “Maybe I will,” he teases, “just to see how long it takes you to start begging for me to come back again.”

You grumble something incoherent at that, then the words between you lull into a comfortable silence. After a few moments, you shift your palm to rest on his thigh, your hand gentle, warm. Your fingertips trace tiny love hearts over his slacks.

“Don’t,” you say eventually, voice quieter. “Stay this time.”

Tom risks a quick glance to you, growing breathless in the depths of your eyes. “Of course,” he says, voice thick. Tom returns his gaze to the road, his chest feeling tight. “I’m never leaving you again.”

“I mean, you can leave sometimes if you want—”

“No. Never.” Tom’s cheeks ache. “I’m never leaving your side.”

“Alright, Tom.” You sigh lightly, feigning exasperation. “I guess there are worse things than being stuck with you.”

“I’m charmed, darling. So relieved you like spending time with your fiancé.”

You shift in your seat at that, and Tom doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re flustered. You’re always shyer around him when he mentions the fact that your futures are intertwined, almost unbelieving that he’d slipped that ring onto your finger. It doesn’t matter how many times Tom tells you that he cherishes you—you never quite make peace with the fact that he wants to chase the moon with you. That doesn’t mean he’ll stop telling you, though. You hang the stars in his sky.

“I love spending time with you, Tom,” you mumble. “And I hope that what I’m about to tell you doesn’t change how you feel about me.”

His eyebrows raise. “Wait— what?” Tom scrunches the tip of his nose up as he squints in your direction. “Y/N, what—” He pauses, concentrating on keeping his voice level. “Angel, nothing you could ever do would change the way I feel about you. Nothing.”

You smile quietly. “It’s not a bad thing,” you add, almost sensing his unease. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Perfect.” Tom sits a little straighter in his seat. “Then there’s nothing to worry about—”

Sirens cut into his words. Tom startles, glancing in the mirror to see a police car with a whirring blue siren perched atop the grimy vehicle.

“Tom,” you say slowly, voice filling with dread. Your tone sends shivers down his spine. “Did you do something?”

Tom bites his lip.

He’s been trying his best to stay above the law recently, but… Liverpool had been messy. Very messy. He hadn’t intended on things going quite as terribly as they had, but one thing had led to another, and he’d had to fuck a few things up. The crime is nothing as intense as he’s been booked for in the past, but he’d had to write a few irregularities into his taxes and business agreements to smooth over the waters. It’s not as bad as murder, but it’s tax fraud nonetheless.

Tom had thought he’d been fine. Apparently not. He’s been a hot target for the Metropolitan Police for years, and they’ve consistently unearthed every tiny discrepancy he’s tried to get away with. He should’ve been more fucking careful.

“Shit,” Tom mutters. As he brings his eyes back to the road in front of him, he realises the police car behind you has been joined by another two, closing in from side streets and boxing him in amongst the traffic. He swallows thickly. “I messed up.”

You curse. “Idiot,” you mutter. You sit forwards in the seat and start to point to a gap in the traffic, right across the square. “Go there,” you say, voice pitching higher. “If you go fast, you’ll make it.”

He could book it. Tom’s run away before, in situations of peril where the alternative had been the law and escaping would give him the chance to alter some books and clear his name. It would be easy to slam his foot on the accelerator and dive down side streets, dodging the thick London traffic.

“Tom!” you say again, voice stressed with desperation. “Tom, go!”

The gap in the traffic is narrowly closing, the window of time Tom has to zoom through and get to safety shrinking before his very eyes. If he was alone, he’d do it without a second thought, but you’re here.

You’re here, and that means he can’t be selfish. Tom couldn’t ever risk you, not with such a treacherous manoeuvre like the one that you’re suggesting, nor with the repercussions you’d face if he books it. You’d either have to come on the run with him, or you’d end up captured and grilled by the Met, and neither of those options is the types of things he’d ever bring willingly upon you. You would never deserve that, and he refuses to make it a possibility.

Tom slows down the car.

“Tom,” you say, shock filling your voice. “What are you doing? They’ll get you.”

He nods. “I want you to listen to me, very carefully,” he says quickly.

“But—”

“—Darling, please. Please.” Tom stops the car abruptly. He calculates he has mere seconds before the officers ditch their vehicles and start storming across the traffic to haul him from his seat. “Don’t say anything to them. They want me, not you.” He turns off the engine and grabs your hands, holding them close as he stares into your eyes. “Call Harrison. Whatever shit they’re bringing me in for won’t hold up for long. They’ve— they’ve done this before. They never win. We have backup plans for this crap.”

“Tom,” you whisper, eyes welling with tears, “but they—”

“I know. I know, baby. I know.” He presses quick kisses to your knuckles, clinging so tightly to your fingers it’s like he’ll drift away without your touch. “I’m sorry. I am so bloody sorry. I love you so much.”

His throat hurts. The sight of the pain in your eyes makes him hate himself for ever bringing you into this faithless way of life. He doesn’t give a fuck that he’s destined for a cell—Tom cares that he’s hurt you.

“I love you too,” you say. You lean closer, undoing your seatbelt and popping his too as you reach up to cup Tom’s cheeks in your shaky hands. “It’ll be okay,” you stress. “I’ll get you out of there, baby.”

You lean in closer to kiss him, and Tom aches. The scent of your perfume is overwhelming, and he feels fragile beneath the hold you have on his face. The kindness in your eyes makes it hurt even more. It’d be easier if you’d let fury consume you and spend these last sacred moments denouncing him instead of loving him, but of course, you’re not like that.

The car door opens, and Tom is hauled from the car the moment his lips touch yours. Before he can process it, he’s being pushed up against his car, stiff arms keeping him pinned in place. He closes his eyes, firming up his face and shoving down his feelings as he forces himself to dry up, become stoic. He won’t show weakness now he’s outside.

Tom hears you exit the vehicle a few moments later, the crash of the door coupled with a few scuffles. He drowns out the words of the officers whilst they reel off a list of fabricated crimes, smugness evident in their voices. Good for fucking them.

When they eventually release him, he’s cuffed and weaponless, his spirit bent in two. The metal of his car had hurt his face, but nothing breaks Tom’s heart more than the sight of you being held back by two officers, tears streaming down your face. You bring your hands into the shaky outline of a heart, and it’s the last thing he sees before he’s pushed into the back of a van.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom’s day goes from bad to worse.

It’s clear that everyone at the station has been waiting for him to fuck up. He’s met with sly smiles and teasing comments as he’s reacquainted with some of his most despised wardens and guards. He’s held in a temporary cell for almost a day and quizzed on the shreds of ‘evidence’ they’d procured from his house during a raid, and though Tom declines to answer every single question they throw at him, their smugness never fades.

He walks into the trial already knowing he’s going to be locked up, and not even the sight of you beside Harrison and Harry on the benches soothes him.

Five years. He’s charged with five years.

Now, Tom isn’t worried. He knows he won’t actually be held in a cell for that long. He’s already had correspondence with Harrison, who’s assured him that he’s working on it, and there’s really nothing much to worry about. Tom has been in this situation twice before, and on both occasions, he’d been released in less than a month. The connections he’s built from his years heading up the mob are reliant and unwavering, and he knows he won’t have to serve even a fifth of his sentence.

The only difference between the times before and now is you, and Tom can only fucking pray that you don’t despise him for dirtying your name with his crimes. You’d been normal before him—a waitress, aspiring painter, an innocent. Despite your insistence that you love him with all strings attached, his guilt weighs him down. He doesn’t give a fuck about the law and whatever twisted loopholes the jury had bought, but he does care about you and what you think of him. That’s the hardest part.

Two weeks pass achingly slowly.

Prison isn’t that bad for Tom. He’s pretty fucking lucky, all things considered. He has friends here—blokes he’d met around town, most of whom are willing to welcome him in. A few of his old guys are locked behind bars with him, unwavering in their loyalty and more than happy to absorb him as members of their group. Those who don’t know Tom know of him. His reputation as a murderous, cold-hearted killer follows him inside, regardless of its falsity. Tom hasn’t taken a life in three years, but these men don’t need to know that.

“Holland! Get the fuck up. You’re in the gym.”

Tom glances up. He’s lying on top of his bed, one hand propped behind his head, the other holding open a book. He isn’t an avid reader like you, but you’d sent him a copy of your favourite book with scribbled annotations in the margins, and he’s been spending every hour since its arrival clinging to the pages.

He sighs as he puts the book down and stands from the lower bunk. He’s in with a young lad, Ollie, booked on a minor drugs charge. Why they’d paired someone on such a minimal sentence with a member of the mob, Tom will never understand, but the fear in the lad’s eyes every time he looks at him is enough to keep his wavering ego bobbing just above the waterline.

“Step away from the door.”

Tom does as instructed. A moment later, there’s a loud buzzer followed by the swinging of the heavy metal door.

In walks Luther, Tom’s archnemesis. If the inmates fear him, the guards despise him, and to be fair, Tom understands why. He’s a bit of a dick when he’s behind bars. Usually, when he’s free, he operates with a level of poise and charm that comes with his position as leader. He speaks to his men with a firm but kind hand, respects everyone he deems his equal and commands supreme authority without becoming a tyrant. However, when he has his freedom stripped away, and he has to bend to fit the system’s will, his attitude becomes… problematic.

“Holland,” Luther barks. A moment later, he appears in the doorway, coughing loudly, cheeks flushed a ruddy red. He snarls at Tom, his voice like jagged glass. “Come on.”

“You alright, mate?” Tom asks. “You sound fucking terrible.” He looks it, too, with a dripping nose and red-rimmed eyes. He looks ill.

Luther’s features sharpen. “Get over here now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tom swaggers to the door and dodges a little as Luther cuffs him, the man digging the metal into his skin with extra ferocity. They start to march down the long, grey corridor towards the fitness suite, Luther prodding Tom forward with a hand digging into his back.

“How’s your wife?” Tom tries, tired of the echoing footsteps.

Luther sighs. “How’s yours?”

“She’s doing very well, thank you.”

The guard tuts. “Does she like having a criminal for a husband?”

“Does yours like being married to such a wanker— hey!”

Luther pushes him down the corridor with haste. “Quiet, Holland,” he mutters. “I’ve had enough of you.”

“Well, then it’s too bad you’re stuck with me,” Tom replies. “Did you know that if me being here annoys you so much, you could always let me go? That would sort out your problem.”

He barks a laugh. “Yeah? Let London’s most wanted convict escape?”

Tom raises a brow. “London’s most wanted?” he echoes. “Wow.” Pride seeps into his voice. “That’s an accomplishment.”

“Not a positive one. Self-absorbed bastard.”

It’s easy to laugh. Letting the comments bounce off his back is easier than admitting the jibe about you has irked him. Do you like having a criminal for a partner? Even Tom, for all the world has jaded him, knows no sane person would rest well with the knowledge that their significant other has lied, stolen, and killed. It doesn’t lie well with him, and he was born into this.

They reach the gym.

Tom sticks to the same workout regime he has at home. He does his cardio for twenty minutes on the wobbling treadmill, then sits around on the bench press and does curls with a few of the guys. He keeps quiet, his mind loud, only adding a few comments when necessary. His sullenness adds to his image, and he’s busy with thoughts of you. By the time he’s finished, he feels arguably worse than before. The endorphins from his workout are overshadowed by the guilt Tom feels, clawing at his heart, heavy and persistent in its certainty that he’s a lousy partner.

He can handle being a bad guy, but a bad man? A bad brother, bad friend, or bad lover? The opinions of the guards mean nothing to him, and neither does the law, but when it comes to the people he cares about, their opinions mean everything. Tom has let Luther get into his head, and whilst he knows that was the guard’s intention, the seed of doubt has been planted. As he pumps iron, he feels it grow, taking root, blooming taller.

“Holland. Time to go.”

He grunts as he stands. Sweaty and sore, Tom hobbles to the doorway, feeling considerably smaller than he had when he’d left his cell. The cuffs hurt his wrists as his hands are clasped back together, and the walk back feels even longer than before.

“You had a parcel delivered,” Luther says, breaking the silence. “It arrived last week.”

Tom’s eyebrows pull together. “Last week?”

“I thought I should hold it back until you’d settled in,” comes the patronising response. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you with too many new experiences, Thomas. Not that being in here is anything out of the ordinary for you, though.”

He feels his jaw twitch. He flexes his hand, knuckles burning for movement. Not yet, not yet. He has to wait, has to play the long game.

“You’re a dick,” Tom decides. He doesn’t care that he gets thrown roughly into the cell. He trips over the floor and barely manages to scrape himself to his feet, but he throws out a smirking “fuck you,” before the door slams shut. He’d follow it up with more snide remarks, but he becomes distracted by the sight of the parcel sitting on his bed.

It’s neat, despite the obvious intrusion into its contents by the guards. He flops onto his lower bunk, glad his cellmate is absent as it allows him to drop the ruse. Lips sagging into a frown, Tom rips open the package.

He releases a fragile sound as the contents pour across his duvet. Polaroids fall across the sheets, glistening slightly, neat and pristine. A lump comes to the back of his throat as he shuffles through them, finding images of you, Harry, Sam, Tess… The list carries on. For every person he can think of, there’s an image captured perfectly in time. He even appears in a few of them, with his hand around Haz’s shoulder or his lips pressed to your temple.

He finds a note attached at the bottom.

Tom, I thought you’d want some reminders of home while you’re away. We’re all looking forward until the day you can come home to us. Love you forever, Y/N <3

As Tom traces the edge of his nail along the outline of your face, his eyes well with hot tears. You always know what he needs, even when he doesn’t. You know him, inside out, and you’re continuing to support him, despite it all. He is indebted to you, and he knows already that as soon as he’s let out, he’ll spend every second of his life trying to repay that.

The seed of doubt burns away.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Two weeks later, Tom finally gets to see you again.

The prison visiting room is fucking grim. Toned in sludgy shades of grey and brown, it’s about as ugly as it could be. There are window slits pressed high into the walls, but the primary source of light is from the musky bulbs set above each table. The chairs are uncomfortable, and the decor lacks inspiration. Tom often wonders if the room was designed to be as revolting as possible.

Despite this, as Tom shuffles into the room that smells suspiciously of plasticine, he couldn’t be happier. It doesn’t matter that his wrists ache from the cuffs, nor that the garish shade of orange clashes horrendously against his skin: you’re here, and that makes everything better.

You’re sitting at the table in the corner of the room, drumming your fingers pensively over the surface. His eyes catch on the glinting ring wrapped around your fourth finger, and the sense of longing that had settled in the hollowness of his chest is quickly burnt away. Sensing his movements, you glance up, and when your eyes meet with his, Tom feels his heart come home.

You raise a hand in greeting, smiling shyly, and he tries to look as non-threatening as possible. He knows the new buzzcut and the stupid get-up probably don’t help, but you don’t look at him like he’s any different.

As he draws nearer, Tom finds himself blinking a few times, questioning how long you’ve been separated. The version of you he has holed up in his memories pales in comparison to the woman that he sees before him now, but he can’t quite pinpoint why. You seem fuller somehow—vibrant, glowing, alive, your face doused in a heavenly glow and your skin bright with health. Your figure has changed slightly, and Tom can’t stop himself from running his eyes all over you, trying to memorise every tiny detail his memory had blurred away. You look so beautiful, every single part of your form enhanced and bright, and your chest—

Fuck, it’s been a long time.

“Y/N,” he exhales the moment he’s been pushed into his seat. His guard unclasps his cuffs, and Tom immediately reaches out across the table, almost moaning from relief when you wrap your fingers around his. Your skin is so warm.

“Tom,” you whisper. Emotion seeps into your voice, and he feels his chest crack as tears pool in your eyes. “Are you okay? I— I missed you.”

He hums, biting his lip. “I’m fine, baby. I’m okay. Are you?”

You nod quickly. “I’m okay too,” you say. “Things are strange without you, but we’re working around the clock to get you out of here.” You drop your voice slightly. “I think we’re near a breakthrough.”

Tom’s teeth brush his lower lip. “Good, good,” he says. “How’s Tess? And Harry, and the others? Are they looking out for you?”

“Yeah,” you say. You squeeze Tom’s hands tightly. “They’re all okay. Mainly just worried about you.”

He shrugs, trying to lessen the furrow in your brow. “‘M all good, darling,” he promises. “Don’t worry about me.”

Your eyes skate across his face. “I like your hair,” you say gently. For a moment, Tom thinks you’re going to try and reach out to touch the buzzed fuzz, but you seem to remember that anything beyond handholding is prohibited. You have to settle for a slightly suggestive smile. “It looks good on you.”

“Thanks, lovie.”

Your smile is sad but it’s still hopeful. Whatever emotions you’re feeling, it’s clear that you’re trying to smooth them away and keep them to yourself. “There’s something I wanted to tell you,” you say, easing into the words with difficulty. Tom watches as you look away, doubt casting across your face.

“What is it?” Vaguely, Tom remembers how skittish you’d been the day he’d been taken away, the memory distorted from the noise of everything else that had happened. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You bite your lower lip. “Uh, just first… how are you holding up in here? Like, actually. Don’t bullshit me and play the tough guy.” Your eyes are wide and persistent. “How are you actually doing?”

Tom blinks a few times. “Fine,” he shoots immediately. He clenches your fingers tightly in his, clinging on for a moment until he exhales. “I wish I could be here for you properly, though. It worries me that I don’t know what’s happening on the outside…” He hates being left out in the dark, but it isn’t your fault. It’s his. “I wish I could be a better boyfriend to you.”

“Fiancé,” you correct, the word soft like it’d left your mouth without thought. “You’re already a good boyfriend, Tom. I knew what I was signing up for. I wanted this back then, and I still do now.”

“Still,” he grumbles. He tries to even out the heaviness of the conversation with a smile. “I think about you all the time, baby. And the others too, but… mostly you. I just hate that I’m missing out on our life together.” He has to stop for a moment as he recollects his thoughts. “I’m sorry that I did this to us, and I’m sorry I let you down.”

You crack a wry smile. “You can’t change the past, Tom. You can only affect the future.” You pause, your expression hardening. “I need to know that you’ll go slower when you get out. I know this is your life, but some things need to change. We— I need you to stay out of trouble. Do you understand?”

He nods his head immediately. “Of course, of course. I don’t ever want to get arrested again, darling.”

You drop your voice. “I’m not saying you need to quit everything, just… get better safeguards and be smarter. I love who you are, Tom, but this…” You break off to gesture around, pointing vaguely at his cuffs, the jumpsuit, and the guards. “This isn’t good for you or for me. And I love you, but I won’t stay if you don’t try.”

It’s hard to hear, but he knows it’s what he deserves to hear. He knows you deserve to stand your ground.

“I know,” Tom says gently. “I’ll get clean when I’m out, Y/N. I promise. I’ll be a good man by you.”

You squeeze his fingers tighter. “You already are,” you promise, “and I love you so much, even when you’re being an idiot.”

He laughs breathlessly. “Thank you, darling.” Tom tilts his head to the side. ��What was it you wanted to say?”

Conflict briefly colours your face, manifesting itself in the arch of your eyebrow and the biting of your lower lip. You inhale sharply, only to exhale again a moment later.

“I’ll tell you when you’re out,” you say softly.

Tom scowls. There’s no anger there, just confusion. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

You shake your head. “I… Pretend I never said anything,” you say. You follow it up with a quick, “if I thought you needed to know, I’d tell you.”

He doesn’t want to push it, so Tom lets the topic slip away. You sit together silently for a few minutes. It’s hard to talk, difficult to express how much he misses you, how much he’s sorry. He knows that you understand—you always do, and you have similar tears wobbling across your eyes. Talking can come afterwards when he’s out and he’s free. All he needs now is the feeling of your hand back in his.

The visit is over far too soon.

Leaving you is difficult. Tom isn’t allowed to hug you or go any nearer than the linked hands on the table, but you tug at his fingers until he feels the imprint of your engagement ring rubbing against his skin. He even manages to kiss your knuckles a few times before he’s pulled up from the table and cuffed again.

“Be on your best behaviour,” you say, soft with your parting words. “The lawyer says the better you are, the easier it’ll be to get you out early.”

Tom has a bit of his spark back. Even as he’s pulled back, he manages a devious smirk. “When am I ever not on my best behaviour, darling?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A few days later, Tom snaps.

To be fair, it isn’t really his fault. He’s pushed to the very verge of insanity, prodded at and provoked beyond the point of return.

It happens when he’s in the barber, huddled in the back corner of the room as he gets a new tattoo. Tom is used to the pain of the burning needles as he already has a few pieces on his arms and his hands, so he’s able to take the fresh marks to his knuckles as the ink stains black against his skin. However, he’s a bit on edge from the sharp buzzing, which is perhaps why he responds so negatively to the taunting he starts to receive. It comes from Toni and the rest of his snivelling gang. They’re all members of the East London mob, ruled over by Tom’s nemesis Gordy. Most of the time, they stick to their side and Tom sticks to his, but they’ve caught him in a vulnerable position, and Toni never seems to know how to pick his timing.

It’s basic teasing, instilled with a brutal hard edge that would phase him if Tom cared enough about their opinions of him. It doesn’t hurt him when people attack his character or his honour—Tom knows the truth about his life, and he couldn’t give two shits about an outsider’s opinion of him. However, he finds it a lot harder to grin and bear it when the man changes angle.

“Word is, a couple of our guys saw your missus out with Haz the other day,” Toni taunts. “He said they were getting real close if you know what I mean.”

Tom’s jaw flexes. The action is minute, but it doesn’t go undetected. Toni smirks.

“Eh, you don’t like that, do you?” The man steps a little closer and Tom tries to ignore him by looking down at the needle pressing into his fingers. “Don’t like the idea of your best friend hanging around your wife. Can you even trust them?” He breaks off, laughing coolly. “They think you’re so stupid, did you know that? You’ll get out of here, and they’ll have cut you out of everything—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tom murmurs. He flexes his right hand, shaking out his knuckles. With every passing day, he’s felt tetchier. He can feel his anger burning, churning deep within his stomach, growing brighter, harder. He knows he shouldn’t lean into it, but… He wants to. He craves that rush of the fight, selfishly so.

“But she’s not your wife, is she? You aren’t actually married. Have you ever thought that maybe she’s just using you? Maybe they all are? Look at you, Tom.” Toni breaks off to throw a disdainful hand in Tom’s direction. “You are so weak in here… How are any of your guys going to respect you when their leader can’t even stay out the slammer?”

The guy tattooing Tom’s hand finally pulls away, glancing up at him with knowing in his eyes. “You’re done,” he says. “Don’t do anything with that hand, though.”

“Thanks, man.”

Tom stands up, Toni mirroring him. The man looms in front of him, 6’2 and stocky. He’s larger than Tom in every respect, but he’ll never be the bigger man.

“Get out of my way,” Tom sneers.

“Make me, twat.” Toni smirks. “Or are you too much of a pussy to follow through on that as well?”

Tom sees red. Acting on the edge of adrenaline, he pounces, rushing the man and jumping with so much unexpected force that the larger man goes tumbling to the floor. Tom hears the shouts of the guards, but they pale in comparison to his need to straddle the man’s chest and make him pay. With each meeting of his fist with Toni’s face, Tom feels better. He’s never been an excessively violent person, but old habits die hard, and it’s so, so, so fucking easy to pummel the guy who dared breath an uncomplimentary word in his family’s direction. Tom would put the whole city six feet under if they so much as breathed wrong around his loved ones, so really, Toni had it coming.

The prison guards don’t agree.

He ends up in solitary, and when he’s put back into the normal population, Tom is given restrictions. He isn’t allowed visitors for a fortnight, and his calls are reduced to once a week. All other privileges he’d had are taken away again, and he’s relegated to the very bottom of the pecking order.

It’s still worth it.

When he’s finally allowed visitors again, Tom is surprised to learn that his next meeting isn’t with you or his lawyer. Things only make sense when he shuffles into the meeting room and sees his right-hand man settled in the corner, and if Tom had found the room drab before, it appears even more depressing with the addition of the blond man sitting in it. Harrison sucks the life from the room, any hints of happiness at being reunited with his friend overshadowed by the pinched expression on his face.

The guards don’t let Tom take off his cuffs. He has to sidle into the chair, falling into the heavy silence as he places his hands on the table. Metal links click, and Harrison just stares. He stares, and stares, and stares, his blue eyes almost black.

“So,” Tom eventually says. “Hello.”

Harrison’s jaw twitches. He brings his hands to rest on the top of the table, flexing them as he takes a moment to find the right words. “Tom,” he says, speaking very slowly. “You are a twat.”

He blinks. “Wow,” Tom mutters, chuckling slightly. “Okay. Good to see you too, mate.”

“Do you…” Harrison breaks off, groaning. His forehead develops angry ripples. “Do you understand how detrimental this has been to your case?”

Tom bites his lip, shaking his head slightly.

“You’ve been pushed to the bottom of the pile,” Harrison says, voice controlled but simmering with unspoken anger. “We were about to get your appeal passed for early release.” He sits back, crossing his arms as he shakes his head. “There’s been a penalty applied due to your stint in solitary. Your case won’t be assessed until it’s lifted.”

Tom feels his stomach drop. “Shit,” he mutters. “That’s not ideal.”

“No. No, it’s not.” Harrison sits forward, leaning on his hands. “You are a bloody idiot. Stop acting like a child… Why… Why did you even attack him? You must have known this would happen. Are you stupid?”

He doesn’t like the patronisation in his tone. Tom’s already beat himself up enough about this in solitary. He doesn’t need Harrison questioning his judgements, doesn’t appreciate his friend breathing down his neck so obviously.

“He deserved it,” Tom says firmly. “I would do it again.”

“You can’t. You absolutely cannot.”

“I think you’ll find that I can, Harrison.” There’s a stupid smirk on his lips now. Tom’s missed being a little shit to his friends. He knows it’s not the time, but he’s vibrating. The callous concoction of shame, anger and isolation make him volatile and abrasive. “I’m pretty sure I can do whatever the fuck I want, actually.”

The expression that mars Harrison’s face looks very out of place against his demeanour. The man is in a long black trench coat with a tight grey turtleneck layered beneath it. He has a few pendants hanging from his neck, the gold metal bringing out the warm tones in his curls, mussed in a way that screams of old charm and perfect romance. Harrison’s illusion of control falters only under the pressure of the anger that manifests itself so clearly on his face.

“Tom.” Harrison bangs his fist on the table. The ring wrapped around his pinky clangs against the wood. “You can’t keep this up. If you do, the case gets pushed further, and that is unacceptable.”

Tom scowls. “Well, Haz, last time I checked, I was the one who has to deal with the consequences of my actions. Not you.” He can’t stand the expression of condescension hanging over Harrison’s face. “If I want to throw a few punches, I bloody well will. You have no idea what it’s like in here. No idea at all.”

Harrison’s angered expression fades a little, but only for a moment. When Tom hardens the curve of his eyebrow, Harrison devolves into irritation again, almost snarling as he narrows his eyes. “Your actions affect everyone in your life,” he snaps. “Stop pretending you’re the only one paying for the things that you’ve done.”

“I’m the one with the cuffs, Harrison. I’d say I’m paying considerably more than anyone else.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah? Tell that to the men who had their property searched and their possessions seized. Tell that to your family, who continue to be pulled in for questioning. Tell that to Y/N, who—” he breaks off awfully quickly, cheeks flushing slightly. “Nevermind.”

Tom’s blood goes cold. “Y/N?” he repeats sharply. “What about Y/N?”

“Nothing.”

He sits up straighter. “What about Y/N, Harrison?”

“Nothing.”

Tom is angry now. “Tell me right now or god help me, I will find a way to kill you.”

Harrison rolls his eyes, then covers the movement with a sigh. “I can’t. It isn’t my place.” He seems regretful as he jumps in to add, “she’s fine. She just needs you. We all do.”

The guilt returns. It falls over Tom like a wet blanket, extinguishing his frustration and leaving him cold. “Does she… Does she hate me?” He’s looking down at his cuffs.

“What— no. No, Tom.” Harrison looks guilty for the first time, but at least he isn’t confirming Tom’s deepest insecurities. “Nothing like that at all. Just… Listen to me, alright? You need to behave. I know it’s hard in here, I know that, and I understand it must be frustrating. You just… You can’t let that rule you, Tom. You have to look at the bigger picture. You need to come home, and the sooner the better.”

It’s easier said than done, but he knows Harrison is earnest with it.

“Fine,” Tom grumbles. “I’ll behave.”

Harrison nods. “Thanks, mate,” he mutters. “We all miss you, myself included.” He glances up at him, eyes finally back to the cool blue tones Tom grew up beside. “It isn’t the same without you around.”

Tom manages a tight smile. “I miss you too.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

IT’S BEEN THREE MONTHS since Tom was taken away, and you are miserable.

Every day has been the same. You wake up, nauseous and alone, always on Tom’s side of the bed despite forcing yourself to fall asleep on your own. The mornings are a blur of paperwork and phone calls that follow you into the afternoon. You work around the clock, Harrison, Harry and Sam at your side as you go over Tom’s case, again and again, only stopping when night falls, and one of you throws in the towel.

You had been so close to springing him until he’d gone and got himself demoted to solitary, and there’s not a morning that you don’t think about that. You’d submitted the appeal, stacked full of so much evidence that there was no way the judge would deny him freedom, only for Tom to get into a fistfight the day before the hearing. Just like that, the floor had vanished from beneath your feet.

You’d taken it badly, the others too. Losing Tom to the judge’s gavel had been hard enough, but for his escape to be taken away by his own actions hurt a thousand times worse. You know it’s worse for him, being alone in a cell, but that doesn’t stop the bitterness seeping into your mouth every time you think about the lost chance. Harry and Sam had been incensed, their anger fuelled by the void of a missing brother, and you know Harrison’s frustration comes from similar veins.

Even now that Tom’s served his time in solitary, the frustration lingers on, manifesting itself in the way none of you could decide who should go and visit him first. Under normal conditions, you would’ve been there in a heartbeat, but… Things have been complicated, even without recent events, more so than they’d been when you’d visited two months ago. When Harrison had bitten the bullet and volunteered himself, all of you had been more than happy to let him go.

He’d left this morning, and the house has been quiet ever since.

You’re sitting up in one of the spare rooms as you wait for Harrison to return, your back aching and your mind spinning. You twirl the rings on your fingers as you think, taking turns alternating between your engagement ring and the silver signet rings you’d taken from Tom’s dresser. Keeping him close makes everything easier. You’d take any reminder of him you could get, be that his rings, his shirts, his cologne, or…

The baby.

You shift a hand down to sit on the swell of your belly. Tears prick your eyes as you let them close, a frustrated sigh tumbling past your lips.

You’re four months pregnant, and that throws a spanner in the works.

Sure, you would’ve tried equally as hard to get Tom released under normal conditions, but the biological countdown that has now been sprinkled into the mix has only given everything an air of desperation. Even if it isn’t you vocalising what everyone else is thinking, the fervour to get Tom out before it’s too late is there. You can see it in the way Harrison never lets you go anywhere unaccompanied, and Harry and Sam have been working nonstop to get their brother’s freedom. Everyone around you is aware of how vital Tom’s release is, even when the man himself remains oblivious.

Exhaling gently, you shift around on the cosy armchair. The nursery smells of fading paint, and as you move around, you glance at the messy borders of the walls. The sex of your baby is still a mystery to you, but a few days ago, the twins had freshened up the room with a shade of light green whilst you and Harrison were in court. Neither of them is particularly artistically inclined, but they’d done a pretty decent job, all things considered.

Tom’s family have all been good to you—very kind. You haven’t felt alone, even with half your heart locked away in the outskirts of London. It just hasn’t been the idyllic pregnancy you’d dreamt about with your fiancé.

Guilt falls across you as you look down at the rising swell of your belly.

It’s been hard trying to decide whether or not to tell Tom what you’d tried to come clean about three months ago, down by the Thames. You’d wanted to tell him when you’d gone to visit him, but you couldn’t find the heart to come clean and admit that he’s missing out on the one thing he’s waited for his entire life. Telling him would hurt him immensely, and he’s already hurting being away from you. You don’t want to tell him until he can be part of it, and with that uncertainty present, you’ve kept your lips sealed.

Visiting him today in place of Harrison is all you really wanted to do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’re vulnerable and explosive, and you want to come clean to Tom when the situation is better. There would be nothing worse than storming into that dingy meeting room, flaunting your obvious pregnancy but being too distracted by your anger at your fiancé to explain everything else. You won’t hurt him like that by taunting him with the one thing he wants but can’t have. You refuse to.

All you can do is hope that he forgives you for holding the information back, pray that he understands your motivations, and, above all, hold onto the hope that he’s there when your child comes into the world.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

Blinking yourself from your reverie, you look up through the open door.

“In here, Sam.”

A moment later, Tom’s younger brother appears in the doorway. The man looks as exhausted as you feel, deep shadows hanging beneath his hazel eyes. When he sees you, his mouth pulls into a small smile and he lifts his hand in greeting, and you can tell that he’s trying. You try to match him by sitting up a little straighter and smiling back.

“Hey,” he says. “I was just… bored, I guess. Thought I’d come and check on you.” Doubt briefly flickers across his face. “Is that okay? Are you busy?”

“I’m bored too,” you admit. You stand from the armchair and groan as you stretch your arms, your stiff back aching. “Do you want to do something?”

Sam grins. “Fuck yeah,” he says. “Can we try the mural?”

Wincing, you manage a smile. “Okay… But if it looks terrible, I will paint over it.”

“As if. I’m the artistic one here, Y/N. Just be glad Harry’s still away.”

“Did someone mention me?” Harry’s voice rings through the air, startling you. With a hand clutching your heart, you look to your side in time to see Sam’s twin taking his place at your side. Where Sam is in a shirt and tie, Harry is clad in a pair of deep denim dungarees. He offers you a rusty smile. “We’re just filling in these lines, yeah?”

Sam’s the one to nod. He gestures at the wall and you notice the faint outlines, scratched in pencil. “Be precise,” he informs, “it took me bloody ages sketching it.”

Harry rolls his eyes, shooting you a silent smirk. “Yes, sir,” he mutters. “Anything you want, sir.”

“Fuck off.”

Harry pulls a face. “Well,” he says, looking at you pointedly, “I hope you’re keeping a record of how many times Sam is swearing around the baby, Y/N.”

Brows furrowing, you pick up a paintbrush. “Why would I be doing that?”

The ginger grins. “Just betters my case for being the better uncle,” he says.

“Oh, what? Don’t you mean the boring uncle?” Sam chides, bristling beside you.

Harry laughs. “I will be the favourite uncle. I don’t care what you say, Sammy. Both of us know it.”

Rolling your eyes at the argument you’ve heard a thousand times before, you give them both a nudge. “Shh,” you plead. “Paint, don’t fight.”

Sam shoots you a soft smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

With a smile lingering on your lips, you watch as Harry puts on one of his playlists, then relax as the three of you get to work. None of you say anything, but the air is full enough—tickled to life with Sam’s quiet whistling and the sound of paintbrushes thick against the wall. You concentrate on the intricate details of the mural, like the outlines of the clouds and the spirals of the grass, and marvel at how wonderful it is to be so content in silence. It’s indicative of how tight your bond has grown, you think.

No longer despising solitude, you’ve found a comfortable middle ground around the men. You and Tom’s inner circle have learned to work together well, stringing together complex case files as you’ve organised accounts. Nothing you’ve been doing recently is legal, but you would’ve left a long time ago if you genuinely cared about the law. You can stomach a few fixed accounts if it means Tom gets to walk free—you can stomach a whole lot more than that, actually, for Tom. You’d set the whole world on fire just to see him smile.

Like the splotchy mural covering the walls, your team has got the job done. Your case for the court is watertight, if a little messy, but you know it’ll be enough to spring Tom. It has to be. You need him, and your child needs him. Everyone in the house needs him.

“Guys? Where are you?” Harrison’s voice joins the mix just as you’re stretching up to flick a few rays of gold into the sun. Harry is at your feet, crouching on the balls of his feet as he tries to paint a few red flowers to the sprigs of grass.

“Nursery,” Harry calls out.

A few moments later, Harrison joins you. You fail to meet his eyes as the focused man sweeps into the room, billowing coat swirling around his feet. His expression is terse as he jerks off his jacket and grabs a paintbrush, dipping the tip in a bit of sky blue paint before standing at the end. You don’t rush him. He’s vibrating with something, his face flushed and his eyes dark, so you give him space.

A few minutes pass, illustrated by Harry’s playlist and the colours of the rainbow. Just when you’re beginning to worry, Harrison speaks.

“Tom is an idiot,” he states, drawing a laugh from one of the twins.

You bite your lip. “Did you explain?” you ask.

Harrison nods. He glances at you, and you note the fleck of purple paint pressed into the pale arc of his cheek. “He said he wouldn’t do it again,” he tells you. “He was angry, though. I think he’s having a bad time.”

Harry hums. “It’s hard in there,” he mumbles. “Was he still himself?”

The blond nods. “Yeah,” he says. “As snarky as ever.”

Sam smirks. “That’s Tom, alright.”

“Good news, though,” Harrison adds. “I went to the courthouse on my way back.”

“Oh?” You look away from your cloud, your heart skipping a beat. “And?”

“And,” Harrison continues, a semblance of a smile twitching across his lips, “I submitted the appeal again. They said they’d probably process it next week. So, if things go according to plan this time, he might be out by next Friday.”

You almost drop your paintbrush. Eyes widening, you turn to face him properly. “Wait, really?”

Harrison’s expression softens. “Yeah.” He puts his paintbrush down, tugging yours from your fingers as if he can tell you’re close to dropping it. “He’s almost out, Y/N.”

Relief spills across you, uncontrollable and overwhelming. Closing your eyes before those easy tears can fall down your cheeks, you step closer and push your way into Harrison’s embrace. He’s ready and waiting for the action, eager to comfort his friend.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Harrison’s chest is warm, and though his hugs aren’t as good as Tom’s, you’ve come to rely on them. You’ve come to rely on all of them. “That’s amazing news.”

“Mhmm.” He squeezes you. “This nightmare is almost over.”

“Thanks, man,” Harry speaks up. You pull away from Harrison’s hold when you hear the quivering tones in his voice, quickly glancing to the man to find him glassy-eyed and flushed. Biting your lip, you extend a hand towards him.

A group hug unfolds, as it’s had the tendency to do since Tom was taken away. The first time had been stoic and cool, with frozen elbows and embarrassed shuffling, but slowly, each one of them has loosened. They’re tough men, burdened and hard, but love ties them to you, and at your request, you know they’d do anything for you. You also know that they all enjoy the physical comfort more than they’d ever let on.

It’s been hard without Tom, and you’d do anything to have him back, but if there’s anything his absence has taught you, it’s that his brothers have become your brothers as his best friend has become your own, and you’ve never really been alone.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom’s release day comes quickly, hidden behind the retrial and the quick-paced days in court. It’s busy at the trial, and spaces are limited, so Harry and Sam attend in place of you and Harrison. You get them to take in a few letters for Tom and pass on your condolences for your absence, but you don’t allow yourself to get too hung up on it. When Tom’s release is announced, the weight that rolls from your shoulders is immediate.

As you wait outside the prison, you try to find solace in the rays of the mid-afternoon sun. It’s quiet in the car park, allowing you to ruminate in peace, and though you’re comfortable resting against the bonnet of Tom’s car, your thoughts are far from restful.

Anxiety weighs heavily in your chest, mixing with your excitement and creating a volatile concoction. You find yourself pacing, biting back your nerves as you try to reason with yourself. Draped around your shoulders is a long coat that obscures your bump, chosen as you’ve decided you don’t want to overwhelm Tom with too many things at once. You hope it does the job. The coat twitches in the wind as you walk, noisy and obnoxious.

Things around you are still until there’s a sudden, loud buzzing noise from the prison compound. You jerk your head around to see two men leaving the main building, small in the distance but gradually growing larger. They’re still enclosed in the fenced courtyard, but they’re on their way to the exit, and every rational thought you have flies from your mind as you see him. Tom. Your Tom.

He’s in the clothes he’d been arrested in—red shirt, black slacks, shiny shoes. Looped around his hands is his Rolex and his rings. Tom seems almost identical to how he’d been on that cursed day, just his head is buzzed and he looks a little smaller. He’s carrying himself with confidence, though, and when he looks fervently around the car park and spots you, his entire face swells with happiness. The sight of that large, lovely smile hanging from his lips brings immediate warmth to your eyes.

Every breath is easier now you have him in your sights. Overwhelming love gluts your insides, warm and emotive, choking you up. It takes everything in you to stay still as you wait for Tom to finish talking with his guard, a tall man you recognise from all of his stories, Luther. Tom’s smirking in a way that’s obviously infuriating, and the guard doesn’t hesitate to give him a light punch as your boyfriend saunters out of prison, leaving the compound with a swagger to his stride and a smile the size of Saturn.

The sight of Tom jogging towards you breaks you from your reverie, and you push yourself away from the car to meet him somewhere in the middle. Nothing matters until you’re colliding with his front, finding warmth in his arms, feeling his entire body shake as his tears fall into your hair. Nothing matters unless it’s him.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper. Your grip on the back of Tom’s shirt is hard, a violent sprawling across your knuckles, but you won’t let go. You’re giddy with love. “Fuck, Tom, I missed you so, so much.”

You pull away from his chest and look into his eyes, your lower lip wobbling as you note the fresh tears on his face. You use your thumbs to brush beneath his cheeks, flicking away the tears as you clean up his handsomeness.

“I missed you so much more,” he promises. Tom brings a hand to rest on the back of your head, breath hitching as he meets your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He kisses you, and it’s so intense you end up pressed against the side of the car. Tom moans with relief as he strokes his fingers over the side of your face, delicately reacquainting his lips with yours as they meet again and again. You keep your hands gliding over his back, his arms, his shoulders, letting your tongues come together as tears flow down your cheeks. The kiss is everything and nothing, familiar and new. The kiss says I missed you. It says I thought about you every day. It says I would wait a thousand dawns if it meant I got to wake up beside you again, but thank fucking god you’re here right now because I missed you more than I ever thought was possible.

“Baby,” Tom murmurs. He pulls away but keeps your foreheads pressed together, the cool tip of his nose brushing yours. “You’re so perfect. I missed you so much that it hurt me.”

He tries to move closer, but you become aware of the pressure to your belly, so bring a gentle hand to push his shoulder away. Hurt immediately floods to his eyes, his expression twitching as Tom takes a few steps back.

“Tom,” you say, voice soft. “I need to tell you something.”

Tom’s jaw twitches. “What is it?” he whispers.

“A good thing,” you clarify. You reach up to wipe the residue of your tears away, then bring your hands down to the tie of your jacket. Biting your lip, you take a steadying breath. “I hope you aren’t angry that I didn’t tell you sooner,” you preface, “but I did it for you.”

Tom nods intensely. “Okay,” he says. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s fine. I’m… I’m here, okay? For anything. It’s me and you. Just… me and you forever.”

A smile flickers across your face. “Me and you, and…” You gently open the front of your coat, then reach out for Tom’s hands. Guiding them slowly, you bring the warmth of his palms to rest on the rise of your bump.

“Wait…” Tom shifts his hands around your belly before staring up at you, slack-jawed. He doesn’t try to hide the obvious tears in his eyes. “You’re…?”

Nodding your head is easier than trying to speak.

“Oh god.” Tom sniffles. “What?” He immediately drops to his knees in front of you, his fancy dress trousers getting dirty in the dust. “How— how far along?”

“Almost five months,” you whisper. “I found out right before you got back from Liverpool. I was going to tell you when we went on that date, but…”

“But I fucked up.” Tom sounds wrecked, his aching eyes fixed on the curve of your belly. “I fucked everything up. I… I left you alone for this entire time, and you had to do this all without me.” He rests his forehead against your bump, very, very gently, and you see him close his eyes. “I am a terrible partner.”

Rolling your fingers over the scruff of his hair, you guide him up to look at you. It’s second nature as you roll a thumb over his cheekbone, trying to instil the action with love and reassurance.

“I’m not angry,” you tell him. “You didn’t know, and you didn’t get arrested on purpose. If anything, you should be angry at me for keeping this a secret.” Your teeth catch your lower lip. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I thought telling you would only make things worse. I’m sorry.”

Tom shakes his head. “No, no. Don’t apologise.” He rests a hand on your leg, the other still on the curve of your front. “I’m sorry.” He drops his voice and looks at the bump. “And I’m sorry to you too, little one.” He nudges his mouth forward and deposits a soft kiss to your stomach. “I love you too.”

Digging one of your hands into your coat pocket, you pull out a photo. “Here,” you urge, handing it to your boyfriend. Tom takes it after a moment, his eyes slow to move away from your front.

He releases a noise somewhere between an exclamation and a choke, nimble fingers gripping the image from your ultrasound. His cheeks flush a brilliant rose.

“When was this?” he whispers.

“At three months,” you reply. You continue to run your hand over the top of his head, trying to soothe him as he absorbs so much information at once. “I went with my mum and Haz.”

“Haz?”

You nod. “Harry and Sam lost a bet.”

Tom hums. He looks between the photo and your bump, then nudges forward to kiss the rise again. His lips are so warm you can feel them through the material of your dress. “Have they been looking after you well enough?”

A light laugh slips past your lips. “Yeah,” you promise. “They helped so much, Tom. It was hard at first… Really hard. Especially when we thought you’d be in there for five years, but… Things worked out.” You have to pause to gather your thoughts. “We converted one of the rooms into a nursery. There’s still stuff left to do, and we can do that together, of course, but… They were all really helpful.”

“Good.” Tom looks up at you, still kneeling, and your hand slips down to cup his face. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “I wish I could’ve been here for all of this.”

Shrugging gently, you squeeze his face. “You can be here for the rest of it,” you promise. “And, I guess… If we have another one, you’ll be there for all of that, right?”

“Of course, darling.” You smile as Tom tilts his lips to knock against the side of your palm.

“So it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Chuckling softly, you nod. “Yes,” you promise. “I love you, and I’m so happy this has happened for us, even if the timing was difficult.” Feeling yourself well up, you exhale slowly. “We’re going to be parents, Tom. Isn’t that crazy?”

“It’s brilliant.” Tom’s eyes sparkle. “I’m going to be a father.” He blinks. “What the fuck.”

Laughing, you move your hands to the crown of his head. “Yeah, it’ll take a while to get used to that.”

“I’ll get there,” he states. Tom returns his attention to the bump. “Hey, little one,” he coos, voice all silk and amber tones, “it’s going to be the biggest honour of my life being your dad.”

Tom spends a while at your feet, speaking softly to you and your bump, and you keep your hand resting on the back of his head. He’s weary when he finally climbs to his feet but regains some of that spark when you step forward to kiss him. You don’t mean to make it as heated as you do, but it hasn’t only been your heart that’s missed Tom. You’ve craved him, constantly, during every single lonely night, and now that he’s here, you’re willing to take everything you can get.

“I love you,” you say, hushed against his mouth.

Tom’s teeth brush over your lower lip, and you moan when he tugs. There’s a fervour to it, hot lust burning through sensitive emotions. He releases your lip and pulls back to stare at you, his eyes rippling darker.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. He brings his hands to your waist, pulling you closer. “I love everything about you.”

Your mouths come back together, and it’s messier than before, your lips wettening as your kisses become wilder. Tongues dance and teeth clash as your body temperature starts to rise. Now you’ve moved through the emotional reunion, you’re left with an underlying pulse—a heat throbbing persistently between your legs. The fire builds as you hear Tom’s grunts and feel the desperation in his hands when they grab at your sides and jerk you closer, his mouth devouring yours until your lips are puffy and tender. You’re greedy, chasing more, desiring everything you’ve missed out on in the months you’ve been apart from your lover.

“Darling,” Tom murmurs, breaking the kiss to whisper hotly against your lips, “I missed you, but if you keep this up, we’re not going to get home.”

Desire takes hold of you. “Who said I wanted to go home?” You push in closer, shifting slightly until you’re able to feel the hardness of his crotch pressing up against your thigh. The familiarity of it all makes you inhale sharply. You drop your tone, trying to seem coy as you speak, “I don’t think you understand how badly I needed you whilst you were away, Tom. I missed you.”

The tips of his teeth glint as he arches his brows. “Well…” Tom mumbles. “I owe you about four months of lost opportunities.” He swallows, briefly breaking from the lust-filled headspace to look guilty. You smooth it away by reaching down to squeeze at his hands. “If my radiantly stunning fiancé decides she wants me to start repenting for that now, then who am I to stop her?”

Rolling your eyes, you step away from the car. “You’re a suck-up,” you taunt. You plant a light kiss to his lips. “C’mon,” you urge. “The car.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “The backseat?” he teases. “Shit, angel. You must be desperate.”

Warmth tickles your face. “Shut up.”

Tom smirks deviously. “It’s okay,” he soothes. He darts forward to open the car door for you, resting his hand on your lower back as you step forward. “I’m just as desperate as you, baby.”

“I hate you,” you murmur. Tom follows you into the car, shutting the door behind you both. You wait for him to sit before straddling his lap, your legs stretching until you have a shin planted on either side of his thighs. The position is comfortable, with enough space between your bump and his chest for you to breath, and you whimper as Tom bends nearer to ghost his lips over yours.

“No, you don’t,” he murmurs.

You want to tease him, but you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You’re alright with too much adoration to even think about pressing it down.

“I really don’t,” you agree.

Tom makes a soft noise of vindication, the tip of his nose brushing yours for just a moment until he’s bearing down and bringing your lips together. You sigh, reaching up and urging him closer. His lips are lovely, and you enjoy kissing them for a while, but then you find yourself distracted by the open expanse of his neck. With his hair buzzed, you’re keenly aware of his throat, pale and sensitive, and if there’s one thing you remember about your boyfriend, it’s his affinity for lovebites.

You bring your lips to the side of his neck, nuzzling your mouth against the long, pale stretch of his throat. Smirking against his skin, you start to suckle deep hickeys against the side of his neck, revelling in the throaty gasps Tom deposits into the air in response.

“Fuck, darling,” Tom whines. He has a hand on your back, urging you closer. When you graze the tips of your teeth against his skin, he whimpers. “Shit. More.”

“More?” you tease. “Forgotten all your manners, Tom?”

He growls. The hand on your back shifts to the back of your head, and he jerks you ever closer. He’s still mindful, especially of the bump laying between you, but he knows just as well as you that you aren’t a piece of porcelain; you like being tugged around. You’ve missed it.

“Give me what I want, and maybe I’ll return the favour.” He says it like you’re oblivious to the desperation in his words. You decide to oblige him.

“Okay,” you murmur. You look up to meet his gaze, his honey-brown eyes full of appreciation. For a moment, it knocks you off balance. It’s so strange readjusting to having Tom back—almost overwhelming to be able to touch someone who had existed only in your memories for so many weeks. You drop your head and give him what he wants.

Tom’s skin tastes clean, and it smells distantly of pinecones. He groans, fisting at your hair and holding you close as you kiss and suck along his skin, drawing deep hues to the surface of his neck. He shifts in his seat, basking in the pain and whining every time you soothe a fresh mark with the warmth of your tongue. You keep your hand resting on his hair, the cropped length of his buzz prickly and coarse beneath the pads of your fingertips.

“Oh god yeah,” he murmurs, voice mingling with the wet noises coming from your lips. “Your mouth is so fucking good, baby. I missed it.” Grunting, he brings a hand to your waist, squeezing the flesh of your hips hard. “I thought about you all the time in there.”

Tom releases his hold on your hair and begins to stroke his hands over your back. As you continue to mark his neck, he starts to tease you, gradually dropping the heat of his palms lower and lower. You can’t stop yourself from bucking down into his hold, moaning against his neck as he grabs handfuls of your ass.

“Tom,” you break off to whimper, panting softly. You feel dizzy on the taste of his skin. “You’re being mean.”

“Mean?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “How am I being mean?” Tom squeezes the curves of your figure, his slender fingers warm against your skin. You’re in a dress, the material thin, and he doesn’t hesitate to curve his hands beneath the hem and bring them to rest over your panties. “You’re the one who wanted to come in here and get your hands all over me… I’m doing what you asked.” He breaks off, chuckling darkly. “That’s not how things usually work, though, is it?”

The air between you shifts.

You pull away from Tom’s neck, your mouth inflamed and throbbing. You have to dig your teeth into your lower lip to muffle your whimper when Tom brings a hand to the front of your legs, gently brushing two of his long fingers over the front of your panties. He’s teasing with it, eyes alight with deviousness, jaw set in a determined line.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Maybe I want to be in charge this time.”

Tom laughs gently. “Oh, yeah?” He rubs your cunt a little faster, causing you to suck in a sharp breath as you feel the delicate pressure on your clit. The contact makes your passage clench, growing wet enough to dampen the front of your panties. “So you don’t like this, hmm? You don’t want me to follow through on everything I have planned for you?”

“What have you got planned?”

He tuts. “Oh, I’m not going to tell you, angel. That’d be too easy. Either you want me to be in charge, or you decide to call the shots.” Tom smirks as he feels you buck down against his hand. Maybe if the circumstances were different, you’d find the strength to push back, but you don’t. It’s been so long, and your cunt is weeping already just from the husky tones in his voice.

“You’re in charge,” you whisper. The vindicated smirk he flashes in response is enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Damn right, baby.” Tom moves his hands away, pressing them to your waist instead. “Can you lay down for me, please?”

You shuffle across the car seat as instructed, Tom shifting until he’s kneeling in the footwell of the backseats. It’s a good thing the car is obscenely huge, otherwise, the already-cramped fit would be unworkable.

Draping your legs over Tom’s shoulders, he pushes the hem of your dress up, bunching it just above your bump. The hungry fire in his eyes fades slightly.

“Is this okay? Are you comfy?”

“It’s fine,” you soothe. “Are you okay down there?”

Tom nods. The scruff of his buzzed head scratches against your inner thighs. “I’m bloody perfect,” he responds. “Can I touch you?”

“Please do.”

The tip of his nose nuzzles against your covered clit. “Perfect,” Tom purrs, his breath hot against your panties. “I think it’s time I remind you who owns this fucking pussy… As hot as it was when you were trying to tell me what to do, it’s not on.” He brings his mouth away from your core, and you whimper as his tongue laps gently across your thigh, the muscle deliciously slippery. “I’m the one calling the shots.”

You’re throbbing, every inch of you aching for his touch. The burn is visceral—pulsing, wet. “Yes, sir,” you return. Tom’s eyes snap to yours. “Do whatever you want.”

“Say please.”

Swallowing the dryness in your throat, you add, “please.”

“Good, baby. You sound so pretty begging for me.” Tom easily pulls your panties down your legs, returning to push your thighs further apart. He brings both of his thumbs to your sensitive lips, humming when you whimper. Using the pads of his fingers, he gently parts your centre, groaning softly at the sight. “Say it,” he murmurs, entranced by the paradise between your legs. “Tell how badly you want me.”

He’s incredibly infuriating, but you play right into his hand. “Please, Tom,” you whine. “Please touch me.”

He hums. “Of course, lovie,” he murmurs. He glances up at you. “All you had to do was ask.”

The first touch of his tongue against your slit makes your eyes roll back. A breathless whine slips past your lips as his mouth envelops your clit, the strong tip of his tongue nuzzling over your sensitive skin in a way you’ve only dreamed of. You’ve been able to get off in his absence, but nothing can simulate the sizzling heat of his mouth and his tongue, nor the scratching of his short hair against your fleshy inner thighs.

The way he unravels you is obscene, toned with the sounds of spit and lazy lips, the sensations of desperation. Tom devours you, using his elbows to push your thighs apart as he buries his face as close to your centre as possible. You can barely see him over the rise of your belly, but you can certainly feel him. When you start to grind down against his face, things only escalate, your eyes fluttering shut as your spine arches in response to his feverish movements.

“Oh god,” he murmurs, voice thick as it vibrates across you. “Missed this… Tastes so fucking good, sweetheart.”

Your high rolls over you suddenly and without warning, manifesting itself in a silent cry as your body goes rigid. You hear Tom hum in surprise, then feel his hands lock around your thighs, holding back your legs as they shake in the face of absolute pleasure.

“Sorry,” you pant, recovering gradually, “I didn’t know that was going to happen then.”

Tom runs his tongue over your slit, still sensitive and throbbing. “‘S okay, lovie,” he replies, voice warm. He nuzzles in closer and brings two slender fingers to push against your entrance. Your hole is hot and pulsing, pooled with your arousal. You hear it pucker as he gently presses against your cunt, teasing your entrance with his fingertips. “I’m not done making it up to you, though. Is that okay?”

Exhaling, you nod quickly. “Fuck yeah,” you say, struggling to think. “Oh.”

He slips two fingers into you, your eager walls parting and welcoming him in. Tom removes his mouth from your heat and replaces his tongue with the pad of a thumb, and when you release a loud noise of strangled enjoyment, he begins to crook his fingers into you. He strokes his digits against your walls with poise and elegance, nudging up against your g-spot and stroking, again and again, chasing the noises you release.

“So pretty,” he coos. “My pretty baby. Making all those beautiful noises.” Tom smiles almost proudly. His chin is wet with your arousal. “I love your cunt… Look at how well it's taking me.” To prove his point, he feeds a third finger alongside the others. “So greedy for me, eh? Greedy little pussy. So hot. So wet. God…”

Tom drops his head again, disappearing from your sight of vision. You moan, body jerking as you feel his tongue move around his fingers, catching the arousal that seeps from your pussy as he works you open. He releases an obscene moan before dragging his mouth to your clit, stimulating you with his hands and tongue in tandem.

“Holy fuck,” you whimper. You feel hot in the best way, your skin becoming sweaty as you writhe over the leather seat. “Feels so good, Tommy.” It feels like heaven—especially when he bends his fingers and the tips of them stroke up against your sensitive spot. “‘M gonna cum again.”

“Already?”

“Yeah.”

Tom chuckles. “I’m so good at this,” he murmurs. “Go on, angel. Don’t hold back on my account… You’re so pretty when you cum.”

The tide breaks, and your climax rolls across you, legs trembling as Tom holds you in place. You writhe as you bask in the heat, your knuckles losing blood as you clench your hands into hard fists. The press of your nails against the soft flesh of your palms hurts, but you don’t care. It feels far too good to think about anything beyond Tom.

You ride it out, and Tom eventually draws his face away from your clit. He kisses along your inner thighs as you gasp for air, only removing his fingers when you start to whimper. As good as the climaxes have felt, panting for breath on the backseat, it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough by far.

“Get up here,” you say breathlessly.

Tom chuckles as he appears from between your legs. He gives your thighs a little tap before he closes your legs, wriggling out of the footwell as you sit up. Easily, like you’ve done a thousand times before, you swing a leg over Tom’s lap, straddling him when he sits with his back against the car seat.

“Are you okay up there?” he checks, bringing his clean hand to rest on the curve of your stomach. When you nod, his brown eyes darken. “Perfect…” he hums. “Clean off my fingers, will you?”

You nod, opening your mouth expectantly and moaning as Tom slips three of his fingers between your lips. Fighting your smirk, you maintain eye contact with him, your pride swelling as you see his cheeks darken. He gently fucks his fingers into your mouth, making you moan at the movements and the taste of your heat as it spreads across your tongue. He’s messy with it, and you feel your lips and chin grow heavy from spittle.

“Pretty,” he coos, “so, so pretty.”

Tom goes to move his fingers from your mouth, only for a detail to make you pause. Eyes straining, you reach up to catch his wrist, holding his hand in place just as his fingers pull away from your lips.

“What’s this?” you query, narrowing your eyes. You drag Tom’s left hand nearer your face, gasping softly as you take note of a new tattoo resting at the bottom of his ring finger.

“Oh.” Tom shifts around slightly, biting at his lower lip. “I got your initials tattooed… When we get married, the ring will cover them, but I wanted you with me—I want you with me—all the time, even without a bit of metal.” He hesitates. “Is that okay?”

You press a delicate kiss across the letters. “Yes,” you say. You feel shy as you meet the eyes of the man who loves you so immensely. “That’s really, really sweet, Tom.” You bite your lip as you look up at him. “Gone soft on me, baby?”

“‘M always soft on you,” he says gruffly, guiding a hand to your face. He brings you closer, encouraging you to lean higher on your knees. “Love of my life, angel. You know that… My wife.”

You shift on his lap, smiling bashfully. “I’m not your wife yet.”

“Soon, soon, soon,” he whispers.

Both of you come together, no words needing to be exchanged for you to know what to do. Tom loses his clothes as you sit up a little straighter, one of your hands curling around the headrest of a seat as Tom angles himself slightly. With the rise of your bump between you, you aren’t able to be flushed together like times before, but the man beneath you is quick to readjust so he’s laying further back, giving you plenty of room to move in a way that’s comfortable. He kisses over your knuckles as you run his hard cock through your slit, his interested eyes fixed firmly on the sight of his length as you finally begin to move down.

The moment the head of his cock pushes into you feels indescribable. The ache of the stretch falls away as relief pours over you, the closeness satisfying far more than just your arousal.

“Gentle, gentle,” Tom murmurs, hand resting on your belly. “Be careful.”

You chuckle, beginning to move but only slowly. “It’s okay,” you reassure him, “it won’t hurt them.” Your eyes roll back slightly as you bring your hand down to rest on Tom’s shoulder, moaning quietly. “You can move too… Please, move.”

“Okay, darling.” Tom gently starts to move his hips. He groans as he slumps back against the seat, beautiful face coloured light pink. You’d missed the expressions he makes, how emotive the slants of his features can be. His nostrils flare and his jaw tenses as you ride him, your cunt so wet the movements are almost effortless. “That feels… so good.” His voice is hollow, gutless. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about you. You, and your hot cunt.” He moans again, unable to sit around the words. Tom ruts into you a little harder, guiding you to move faster with the hand on your hip. “Taking me so well, darling. So fucking well. I’m not going to last at all.”

“That’s okay,” you murmur. “I won’t either.”

Tom manages a lazy smirk. He opens his eyes as he brings a hand to your clit, teasing the sensitive bud with his thumb. You jerk a little at the stimulation but start to ease into it, basking in the pleasure from the bud and Tom’s cock. He’s buried deep within you, pressing your walls apart, the curved tip of his head brushing deeper than you’ve felt in months.

“So tight,” he murmurs. Tom leans back, clearly enjoying the sight of you riding him. “My darling. You look so beautiful like this… I swear your tits are bigger, too.” The hand on your belly gently caresses the bump, Tom’s tongue briefly wandering out to wet his lower lip. “Look at how beautiful you are… I can’t wait to knock you up again.”

Stifling a moan, it takes everything in you to focus on your movements. “You feel so good, Tom,” you whimper, unable to hold back the praise he loves to hear. “I missed this so much.”

“I know, baby. I missed this too… Come on, now.” His voice hardens slightly. “I’m about to cum, but I don’t want to unless you’re right here beside me. So… will you be a good girl and finish with me? Please?”

Heat flushes through your system as you bounce your head quickly. Your eyes close, breath hitching as you feel your climax rise. It starts in the pit of your stomach, a coil pulling tighter and tighter until it bends and snaps, bursting wide and spilling pleasure across your body in warm waves of enjoyment. You cry out as you fall apart, holding Tom’s shoulder tightly as his hand clamps around your waist. You feel him mirror you, hear his loud groan as his cock pulses inside you, your movements unceasing as you ride it out together.

It ends, but you stay joined. Tom sits up, the distance put between you by your belly requiring him to stretch closer and seize your lips in a smouldering kiss. His hand returns to your cheek, yours to his, and the look in his eyes is dizzying.

“I love you so much,” he speaks, words soft like a promise. “Everything I do from here on out is for you, and…” He glances back at your stomach. “And our child.” Words thickening, you see Tom’s eyes well with tears again. He chuckles, cheeks flushing red. “Sorry,” he adds. “I get a bit choked up thinking about it.”

You stroke your fingers over the back of his hair, spiky strands smooth against your hand. “Don’t apologise for expressing your emotions, baby,” you whisper. “It’s been a very long day.”

Tom nods. “Love you,” he murmurs again. He nuzzles his head into the palm of your hand, his eyes closing.

“I love you too,” you say, words truer than they’ve ever been before. You bend down to kiss his forehead. “Do you want to go home now?”

He hums. “Y/N,” he whispers. Tom blinks up at you, eyes soft. He catches the palm of your hand with a few kisses as he sits up a little straighter. “I’m already home.”

Teeth grazing your lower lip, you hold back your smile as you marvel at how clichéd he’s become. You bend down and kiss him very gently. “Sap,” you murmur. “Love you, though.”

Tom pulls a face. He rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice—only love. “Love you too,” he says. “Yes, though,” he adds, “I would love to go home.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

finis

yay

that’s probably a wrap on mob!tom ! i don’t have any more fic ideas for him :( that being said, this was a lot of fun to write, and i really, really hope you liked it :D ik the theme isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, so if you read it all, i love you very very much

please let me know if you have any thoughts!!

masterlist through the link in my bio <3

[iwadori]

When they neglect you for another girl Part 4 (Sakusa)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Word Count: 2.6K

Genre: Angst to Fluff

masterlist

AN: YES I DID PUT MYSELF IN THIS STORY! SUE ME. This is basically inspired by a random conversation i had w the great @teesumu, so this is basically for you doll <3

Sakusa:

You and Sakusa have been together for a around 10 years and love eachother immensly.    

However recently Sakusa has been busy and you havent really had much time together lately as he claims been busy doing loads of visits with his new agent.

But of course, being the loving partner you are you wanted to revive the spark in your relationship.

You have been seeing a lot of people on social media posting their aesthetic ‘picnic dates,’ and you knew that this was something that appealed to you before it was ‘on trend.’ Kiyoomi immediately came to your mind once you had the idea of going on a date. You knew that you haven’t be around each other lately, as Kiyoomi always had either a ‘meeting’ or some sort of ‘interview’ that his new agent “Empress” has set up for him.

You didn’t really know Empress that well, just that she was ‘good at her job,’ a ‘hard and dilligent worker,’ and a ‘raging hottie’ with Atsumu’s opinion being the last one. You weren’t suspecting her to have any malicious intent towards you or Kiyoomi, since you knew that he had a great judge of character. But it was just odd, that every time Kiyoomi was running late or having ‘super-secret’ conversations on the phone it was always because ‘my agent set up this,’ ‘my agent set up that,’ and that’s what left you a bit wary.

As you were scrolling through your phone you see a calendar updating saying : Next Week‘ A DECADE AGO WE FELL IN LOVE.’  

10 years. How could you forget? You and Omi have literally been together for a decade. You think back to the decade of madness and love you’ve been through together, smiling fondly to yourself but then you think about where you are now... barely even talking to each other, only mainly seeing him when he comes home from work.

You need to fix this. Or at least make an attempt to get you and Kiyoomi talking again. So, the only thing you can do, is plan that picnic.

You spent the rest of the day planning your anniversary picnic. ’It’s going to be great,’ you think to yourself, you have a list of all Omi’s favorite foods you're going to make him and bring and you are probably going to pick up a few board games and maybe even get some paint supplies. You and Kiyoomi used to paint a lot together, with the two of you not being the best of painters, but you enjoyed eachothers company non the less.  

Everything was sorted...for the most part. All you needed to do was get Omi there, and it’ll all be okay. Right? As you were bubbling and looking for more picnic inspo, you hear your front door open which made you even more excited to tell your boyfriend your plans.  

As you rush to go greet him, you see he’s on the phone making you roll your eyes. “No Empress it won’t work, we need this sorted by next week. Okay? Next week.” he says in an agitated way. He hangs up the phone and sighs, shoving off his duffel bag.

“Hey Omi, how was your day?” you say a bit hesitant, noticing his annoyed mood.  

“Fine” He said dismissively, aiming to walk past you aiming for your bedroom.

“Oh well I have something amazing planned for ne-” you try to say following after him.

“Can we not do this right now Y/N,” he says again turning too look at you making you frown a bit, all you wanted to do is surprise him with your plans and have a day out with him. After noticing your sad look he finishes with “it’s just that Empress she’s bee-”

“I don’t want to hear about her.” you say bitterly folding your arms, Empress is the last person you want to hear about right now “God Omi can’t you just care about me? For once.”

“I do I-”

“You don’t anymore,” you say, with all the emotions and feelings you’ve been just supressing from a while coming up. You don’t even know how you got from point A to B with this conversation, but there's no stopping now. “I feel that, for a while now we haven’t been how we were before when we were just Y/N and Kiyoomi. Instead of how we are now. Just Y/N. Then Kiyoomi and Empress.”

After hearing his agents name, Kiyoomi’s name contorts to confusion “Empress? What does she have to do with anything?”

“How can you not see? For the past month all it’s been is ‘Empress this’ ‘Empress that,’” you complain “Having your super secret conversations with her, like god Kiyoomi can’t you see a problem with this?”  

“It’s not like that Y/N, we’re just work partners” he says looking a bit annoyed “Just business.”

 “Just business? So Kiyoomi, what were you talking about on the phone earlier” you say with your voice slight accusingly.

“Umm I, I can’t really say?” he says more of a question then a fully assured statement. You squint your eyes at him and scoff.

“What is going on with you Omi?” you say “are you cheating on me with her is that it?”

“No, no of course not Y/N! How could you even ask that?” he frowned at your question making your chest hurt, since deep down you knew he could never do that to you. Could he?

“Well tell me then, what were you talking about?” you ask again.

“I can’t say..” he finishes  

“Well I can’t stay.” you say and his face goes back to confusion “Here. With you.”

“What do you mean Y/-”

“I need a break or something. I just can’t be here right now.” You start to rush and pack a big of things whilst Kiyoomi just stands there.

After you pack up your stuff, you look back and see Kiyoomi just there. Standing. You were upset, you kind of wanted him to rush after you and beg you not to leave, but he was just there. Standing. So you put the hand on the door and just before you leave you turn back and say “bye Sakusa, see you later?” to which you see him slightly nod at.

When the door shut, Kiyoomi starts to cry. After hearing you call him by his last name really twisted the knife that was already in his heart. You haven’t called him that since you were like 15. He knew what you wanted; he knew you wanted him to rush towards you and beg you not to leave, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. But what he could do is call the one person he only could call.

After a few rings, he hears “What do you need Saku?”  

“She’s gone, she left.”

“What do you mean she’s gone, did you tell her?”  

“No I didn’t tell her. And that’s the problem, Empress she think-”

“Saku, don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

“You’ll handle it?”

“Don’t I always?”

He couldn’t argue with that, he just had to trust that Empress could sort it. “And also, don’t spend the week with your head up your ass crying, you’ve got a lot of grovelling to do kiddo.”

He nodded even though she couldn’t see him, as he knew that what just went down needed to be resolved, fast.

Meanwhile, on your end. You’re a mess. Sobbing all the time, tissues are your best friend, you’ve been waiting just waiting for a message or a call, or some form of communication. You just wanted to feel wanted by your boyfriend (can you even call him that now.)  

You spent the rest of the week at your parents, immersing yourself in your work and doing ‘self care’ things, trying to forget all about the argument you and Kiyoomi had.  

One day, you receive a letter, it wasn’t delivered by a mail man though. It was slid under your door, in a golden envelope sealed with a red hot wax seal. It read:

‘Dear Y/N,

My sweetheart, im sorry for how the week has been and I know a letter with only a fraction of how I feel won’t make up for how I acted that day. But im inviting you to join me at the Gardenia Botanical Gardens at 2 pm tommorow, to celebrate our 10 year anniversary.  

I know there is a big chance, you may not want to see me and I understand but please. I love you, so so much, that words can’t even describe. But I need you to see me apologise and I need to make it up to you.  

I hope to see you there, I’d wait the whole day for you. If you don’t show, I understand.

Sincerely, Sakusa Kiyoomi

P.S The theme is ‘summer hot day, tea with the queen’ - Atsumu’

You smile at the letter, but wonder if you should actually go or not. You did want to see him of course and get this all resolved, but you had your own plans for your anniversary which wouldn’t of been spoiled if he didn’t withhold his super-secret phone calls.

It took you hours to contemplate on what to do, but you decided to just sleep on it and see how you feel tomorrow. In the morning, you knew what you wanted to do. Of course, you had to go, at least to hear him out and see if he really did cheat on you or not. For all you know he’s inviting you to tell you that he’s going to run away with his agent and his secret kids they had together. You shook the negative thoughts from your head and just repeated your mantra ‘hope for the best and prepare for the worst.’

When you got there, you didn’t exactly know where he would be but he said ‘botanical gardens’ so of course you decided to just wander around there. It was nice walking around and just smelling the roses, and seeing the pretty scenery.  

“Excuse me ma’am,” you hear someone say tugging on your leg “um that mister over there told me to give you these.” Looking down, you see a small boy who looked about the age of four with a crumpled up bunch of roses handing them to you.

“Oh thank you,” you say giving the kid a head pat “where is this ‘mister’ might I ask?”

“He’s over there!” The kid pointed behind him and you look to see Kiyoomi sitting under a white gazebo which is surrounded in your favorite flowers and the table is filled with food.

You walk over to your ‘boyfriend,’ with him not noticing your present yet. When you reach him you say “I think she stood you up buddy,” you joke making him jump abit startled.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, instantly beaming “You came you made it!” he stood up and pulled you into a hug, which you return before you remember why you came here in the first place.

“Oh I-” he says awkwardly

You decide to sit down pulling him down with you. You kind of sit there in uncomfortable silence, for a while until you both say.

“So I-”

“What are yo-”

You both laughed at your simultaneous comments, before Kiyoomi looks at you letting you speak. “What did you want to bring me here for?”

“I didn’t want, what happened last week to happen Y/N I-” he says looking a bit panicked “It wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

“Then how was it meant to go Sakusa.”

“Y/N, please don’t call me that, I know I made you upset but pleas-” he starts before getting distracted again “Y/N, I called you here to say a few things..”

“Them being.?” you ask a bit impatiently.

“I love you. I love you so much, you don’t even understand. Ever since I saw you at my volleyball game in our first year, in the stands just cheering us on. I knew that from that day, after I scored the winning point and our eyes met, that we were destined to be together. I just love you so much Y/N”

“Omi I don’t understand I-”

“Just let me finish please, It’s taken a while for me to say this. And trust me, there’s been so many times when I wanted to just say ‘hey Y/N let’s get married,’ but I couldn’t I was scared, and I wanted it to be perfect, so perfect. Because you deserve the world Y/N. That’s why I got Empress to help, I know that our conversations may seem odd, but I love you and she knows that she just wanted to help trust me. And she did, all this wouldn’t of been done if it wasn’t for her. But anyways Y/N what I waned to say was I love you and I love you and I-” he rambles on loosing track of his words.  

But in the midst of his speech, you hear all that you needed and responded with the only way you can.

“Yes.” you say simply, with a growing smile on your face.

“Yes?” he repeats confused “What do you meann ye- ohhh" Kiyoomi blushes embarrased that after all that he ended up ruining the thought out proposal he wanted to give you with his ramble.

“Im sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to say it like that I wanted it to be perfect and I-”

You shut him up with a kiss making his eyes widen as he reciprocates it anyways.  

“What did she say?” you hear someone shout from a far, and you look over to see the MSBY Jackals all standing there with shit eating grins on their faces.

“I said yes!” you yell back, to which they all cheer and rush towards you guys giving you both hugs and slapping Kiyoomi on the back.  

As the boys celebrate Omi finnally do what he’s been planning for ages, you get approached by Empress who awkwardly walks up to you. “ I didn’t want to leave the impression that me and Saku were any sort of thing?” she says

“Yeah I think it was definitely a big misunderstanding, it’s just that Omi was never around and whenever he was he was just talking to you and you know how it is.”

“I definitely know, I’d feel the same way if my boyfriend did that to me.”

“Oooh boyfriend?” you ask her feeling nosey on her romantic life.  

“Yeah boyfriend. You know iwaizumi hajime... the trainer?” she says smiling a bit when she said his name.

“The trainer! Nice.”

The rest of the night was fun and was basically an engagement party for you and Omi all you and friends just partying and celebrating yours and Omi’s love for each other. “Omi” you say getting his attention “Happy ten year anniversary babe”

“Happy anniversary, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

After the party you spend your months now planning for a big fat wedding, with the help of your new found bestie, Empress (who you obviously misjudged from the start.) You and Omi could never be happier, every thing was back to how it was before, maybe even better. And you definitely spent at least two Saturdays a month going out for picnics and it was now a tradition in your relationship, so in the end you did get your ‘aesthetic picnic date.’

AN: WHAT DID U GUYS THINK??

[foryoumyheroes]

Sharing is Caring

How [Midorya + Todoroki + Bakugou + Hawks] steal share food 

A/N: I miss eating out but what can you do? Please, if possible for you, continue to stay inside as much as you can! I’m saying this bc the actions in these headcanons are not pandemic-friendly LOL Also, crack-ish? 

Midoriya: 

Oh, what? This little angel can do no wrong, of course he would never take your food without asking and he rarely even asks for a bite of your food unless you offer it up. 

Always shares what his mom packed for the day as well as any other meal he has. 

Willingly eats the things you pick off your plate. You eat what he doesn’t like. A symbiotic relationship.  

Once you guys get to a comfortable part of your relationship he does do weird things in order to be closer to you. 

No matter what he uses the same soy sauce tray as you, even when there’s a perfectly good one right next to him. 

If you’re eating takeout and it’s a picnic or somewhere outside/inconvenient he will use the same chopstick as you. Just...you take a bite, pass the chopsticks, and go back and forth. 

Drinks from the same cup as you. Even if he’s pouring out a cup for everyone and pours a drink out for him too, he’ll drink from your cup and then once you guys are done with that you’ll both drink from his. 

He loves it whenever you guys do share food though!! It makes him [heart squeeze~] doing such a cutesy thing. He feels 100% more affectionate whenever this happens. 

He just likes being next to you. If you guys get street food and have to stab with the skewers into that tiny box or bag, it makes his day standing so close to you for a while. 

Of course, when he first did this he almost died every time because of the mental image of indirect kissing. 

Todoroki: 

It’s already canon that he offers up his precious soba whenever his close friends are feeling down. 

Honestly such a baby boy. 

This food sparks joy in me? It must do the same for them as well! 

But once you guys get into the extremely comfortable part of your relationship the words “my food” and “their food” get erased from his vocabulary and is now completely replaced with “our food.” 

When you guys go to a restaurant, you’re that couple that sits in the same booth seat, side-to-side, instead of across from each other. 

He only orders one dish. The waiter will just stand there until Todoroki will be like, “We’ll order another if we’re still hungry.” 

If you’re getting takeout, he’ll order two dishes but when you get home you’re still going to be sitting as close as ever eating from the same plate.

As a result every meal you have will always involve him sitting by your side. 

The kind of person that never orders the same dish as you if you’re eating together. 

It happens so frequently that Fuyumi bought this big old bowl for you two to eat from whenever you visit Endeavor’s house. 

You guys are so lovey-dovey and roman -- 🤮 romant -- 🤮🤮 I can’t even say it. 🤮🤮🤮🤮

I mean it’s kinda economical, saving all this money sharing a meal.  

Like a dog when they see you eat without them. 

If you guys are having lunch and he ends up sitting on the opposite end of the table from you, one sound of you cracking apart your chopsticks will have him noooming over to your side to eat some too. 

Quite honestly, if you try to eat without him he will physically fight you to take at least one bite too. He’s just jumping over you while you’re protecting your food from him like a football player with the ball. 

[Aizawa: so...do any of you want to tell me how [Name] gave Todoroki a black eye? 

Everyone starts talking over each other all at once while you’re saying, “I accidentally elbowed him in the face BUT that was my melonpan though!!” and Todoroki’s saying, “Our melonpan.”] 

Kinda cute though because it becomes something you kind of just expect. He’ll buy like a boba, take a sip, and then immediately give it to your awaiting hands so you could taste. 

Bakugou: 

The person you’re leeching food off of. 

He’s like, “FUCK off!” and “Get your own!” but we all know the truth 😊😊

Even tries to pass off his affections by saying that the portion you took from him doesn’t have the recommended nutritional balance so he gives you more meat/vegetables/rice to “even it out.” 

Sometimes he’ll even feed you straight from his chopsticks, just straight up shoving food in your mouth. He’ll be really aggressive and pushy but he’ll do it. 

If he wants your food, he’ll just gruffly say, “Give me that,” and snatch it. 

He anticipates you wanting to eat his food so even though he’s a spice fan he’ll tone it down for you when you steal some from him later in the day. 

[People will be like, “Wow he’s such a doting boyfriend.” 

And he’ll yell, “Mind your own shit! I don’t fucking feed [Name] all the time!” And then turn around to be like, “Here’s your napkin and I brought you utensils too.” sdfghkl] 

[He’ll refuse to give anyone else food, and he’ll say some BS like, “No one is eating this but me!” 

Kaminari is like, “but you’re sharing with [Name] right now!” 

Bakugou: what of it?] 

What if he lulls you into a false sense of security though. 

He’s been lowering the spice levels this entire time leading you to believe that you’re getting better at spice and your tolerance has gone up but one day he just suddenly spikes it with spice and nearly kills you. 

When you two cooked together you used to grab bites right in the middle of cooking and he told you off saying it was annoying but now he always calls you over to “taste test.” 

Hawks: 

This bastard. 

Obviously he steals food from you all the time. 

He even strategizes how to steal food from you in the most efficient way possible. 

In more casual restaurants he’ll guide you to the seat that’s closer to the counter/bathroom/water dispenser and constantly asks you to go pick stuff up for him. That’s when he strikes. 

Gets one of his feathers to tap you on the side/behind so when you turn your head he starts shoveling food when you aren’t looking. 

Doesn’t wait for you when you go to the bathroom. You know this. He knows this. It’s survival of the fittest here. 

You get so nervous whenever you get delivery food because if Keigo gets to it first he’s going to eat your fries. 

Once he dipped his bare ass hands into your noodle dish and took the egg on top before you could stop him. 

Every time he convinces you to rock-paper-scissors him for the last piece even if it’s your food. 

Do y’all know that scene from Kung Fu Panda or Power Rangers where they move the last piece around the bowl and maneuvers it with the utensils so the other person can’t get it? If you’re a Pro-Hero too he’ll pull that shit on you. 

LIKE JUST LET ME EATTT. 

This is gross but he doesn’t even care if you licked something or put it in your mouth to “assert dominance” over it. He’ll just get you to spit it out like a mom bird. 

One time he came home early from patrol and found out that you were eating fried chicken without him so the two of you just stood there on opposite ends of the apartment with you staring at him like 👁️👄👁️. 

[Hawks: I thought you were bae-- 

You: Keigo-- 

Hawks:...turns out you’re just fam. ] 

He turns and goes back outside and goes get his own fried chicken and even gets himself a treat ice cream. Takes a picture and sends it to you and everything to gloat.