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areislol · 8 months

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The morning after

►— pairings. genshin men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. some of the characters get clingy really quickly.

►— synopsis. albedo created a machine where it would bring back their creator, who was stuck in another world, back to where they belong. but instead of bringing you here to them, it brought them to where you were.

►— a/n. RAGGHH i was having so much trouble just trying to figure out the title 😭 i hope you guys enjoy this 🩷 I’m very sorry for the lack of action or if it’s simple.. next chapter will be more fun for you guys I hope 🙏🏻

►— wordcount. 4.2k

recommended to listen to: needy - ariana grande or circles - post malone

The next morning, you awoke to Childe’s hand slapped over the side of your face, snoring quite loudly. Groaning, you pushed his hand away and yawned, opening your eyes groggily.

You managed to sit up on the bed and rubbed your eyes, looking around you could see multiple men standing around in your room, Thoma and Kazuha looking out your window, admiring the view, while the others were looking around your room and pointing at the unfamiliar objects lying about your floor and talking amongst one another about what it could be.

“Hey.. see that thing right there on the floor? Do you think that could be used to whack a Hilichurl?”

“… Itto I doubt something as small, petite and cute looking would be used to hit a Hilichurl..” Zhongli heaved a great sigh from Itto’s stupidity (he couldn’t say that though) and pinched his nose bridge from disappointment.

It was a pink, light wand with a red lollipop at the top with a lid covering it. It was candy… not a weapon you can use against Hilichurls.

You could feel your heart skip a beat because ?! Why were all of these guys in your room?! But after remembering what had happened last night, you calmed down.

Right.. that happened.

Suddenly, you felt Childe cling to your side, burying his head into your abdomen as his arms wrapped around your waist. “Mmm..”

You were too tired to even fuss about why he was being so close to you so you decided to just ignore him and his actions. While stretching your arms and yawning, everybody turned their head to look at you.

“Oh, uh.. good morning everybody?” You said, stopping mid-stretch, almost subconsciously shrinking from their gazes.

A collective “good morning” could be heard from everyone as Neuvillette and Cyno walked towards the edge of your bed and started to question if you slept well or not (you did because it was warm), complaining about how when they woke up they found Childe snuggling close to your side and being so clingy towards you.

(Why were they complaining? Easy answer, they were jealous is what. They would rather bury their heads in the sand than ever admit it.)

Nodding your head slowly, you smiled sheepishly and waved your hand at them. “It’s all good, don’t worry about Childe he’s just.. maybe he just likes to hug people?”

Cyno glared at Childe and let out a sigh before nodding his head. “Sure..”

Neuvillette offered his hand for you to take—giving you a gentle smile. “I’m glad you slept well, Y/n. Shall we prepare you breakfast?”

You took his hands and thought about his offer before nodding, offering him a grateful smile. “That would be nice.. but maybe once I’m done getting ready because I’m not sure if you guys are familiar with how things work.”

Neuvillette gave you a simple nod and once you hopped off the bed and let go of his hands you made your way to the bathroom, slipping on your slippers as Kaveh and Xiao with a few others followed you into your bathroom.

It wasn’t so different to theirs but it looked more.. modern for sure. “It looks so.. white and grey. Oh wow! What is this stuff on the wall..?”

Kaveh pointed to the strange object stuck on the wall. It was a toothbrush holder.

“Oh, that? That’s a toothbrush holder, it holds toothbrushes... I mainly use it for my friends if they ever come over.”

Kaveh and Gorou nod their head. “Strange, but unique. I like it!” You smiled at them before turning around and began to brush your teeth before washing your face, all the while they (Kaveh, Xiao, Kazuha and Kaeya) watched you do your thing.

It was a bit awkward, to tell the truth. While you were doing your morning routine they were either watching you or looking around your bathroom.

After finishing everything you needed to do in the bathroom, you bent down in front of the sink and opened the cabinet, grabbing a few packs of toothbrushes and ripping them open before handing them to Kaveh, Xiao, Kazuha and Kaeya.

“Here, use these. I’ll have to go out and buy the rest as well..” you sighed, thinking about how much it would cost.

Making sure they grabbed one, you helped him apply toothpaste on their toothbrush and left them to do their thing while you stepped out of the bathroom and groaned.

Sleeping with Childe and Xiao wasn’t a bad idea but they squeezed you tight through the night. Especially Childe, he just kept on clinging onto you and your arm was sort of sore.

As you stepped foot into your room, you realised that everybody was gone, they probably were in your living room, and you also realised that Thoma was making your bed. When he saw you just standing there eyeing him he smiled shyly.

“Y/n! I decided to make your bed.. as you noticed. How do you like it?” Thoma questioned, patting your pillow down before standing beside there looking like.. a maid.

You smiled at him nervously and thanked him, “well, you didn’t have to do that but thank you, it actually looks pretty nice and neat!”

There was no reason to lie, the bed looked nice and clean. Your sheets were tucked under your pillows and everything looked so smooth and clean.. he even put your plushies aside on the wall!!

You couldn’t help but smile even more as you noticed him leaving your plushies on your bed. But you were snapped out of your thoughts when Thoma then spoke.

“Would you like breakfast now?” You hummed and nodded your head and walked out of your room with Thoma trailing right behind you. And as you moved closer to your living room you could hear the chattering of everyone.

You didn’t know why but just hearing everybody talking and chuckling in your room made your body relax for some odd reason. It made you feel good, it felt as though the burdens were lifted from your shoulders, how weird.

As you made your way through your living room and into the kitchen, the others started to notice you and Thoma following behind you.

“Oh, Y/n! You’re finally here.” Heizou smiled, waving hello at you. You waved back at him and also included the others (even though they didn’t wave first.), smiling so tenderly and waving at them made their hearts flutter—feeling heat rushing to their cheeks.

“Mhm, I’ll make breakfast for you guys.. if there’s enough that is.” Everybody’s hearts nearly burst at your hospitality. Their creator.. offering to make them breakfast? Oh someone please catch them they might faint!

Aether jumped up from the couch and walked towards you and Thoma. “I’ll help!” He chirped, giving you and Thoma a warm smile to which you two returned. “Sure, thanks!”

As you three rummaged through the cabinets, trying to find anything to make breakfast—you eventually settled on pancakes (how did you have so many ingredients for 28 people? No clue.)

It was oddly comforting that you had people in your house let alone help you out with cooking. It felt nice nonetheless, to have company over, even if it was unexpected.

You let the others stare at your TV in awe, wondering what it was. “See that remote thing on the table? Yes, the one that’s black and has multiple colours on it, yup, press on the red one at the top left—yes! Good job, now uh watch whatever you want?”

You could hear the “oohs”’ and “aaahs” s of the men to which you chuckled softly. They acted like toddlers who just found something new in their life. It was adorable.

Breakfast was finally served after an hour or so, the voices of Itto and Childe could be heard thanking for breakfast being served now as they were starving.

“Oh finally!! I’ve been waiting for years for breakfast!” Childe groaned, almost drooling at the sight of the pancakes. “My stomach was growling so loudly..” Itto agreed.

“We could hear.” Could be heard from Dainsleif, Ayato and Capitano. They seemed to be fed up with him and his antics (so was everybody else.)

Everybody began to sit down in the most random spots, well, anywhere they could sit. Your table could only accompany only 8 people so the rest sat down near your coffee table in front of the TV and some eating at your desk.

They also made sure to sit away from people they didn’t want to sit next to. Diluc with the fatui (Capitano, Childe, Dottore and Pierro.), Wanderer from literally everyone else (he sat himself down in the corner like a little child), and Dainsleif from the archons—Zhongli and Venti.

It was a funny sight, to say the least, but, they had to do what they had to do, in this case—eat your pancakes.

As you and Thoma set down the plates and drizzled maple syrup on them, everybody said their thanks and picked up their utensils before digging in, some even moaning from how amazing it tasted.

“Enjoy your pancakes!” You happily said before standing behind the kitchen counter munching on your own pancakes beside Thoma. “Mhm.. it tastes so good! You and Aether are such good cooks!”

For Thoma hear you praise him and Aether made his cheeks flush red. He mumbled that it was “no problem” and quickly stuffed more pancakes into his mouth to hide his embarrassment, unbeknownst to the jealous glares coming from different directions of the room at him.

While you were still chewing and eating your pancakes, you were unaware of Ayato walking towards you and setting himself beside you.

“Y/n-“ Ayato began before you cut him off with a horrified yell. Turning to face Ayato you placed your hand on your chest and let out a sigh, everybody turned to look at you, their pancakes still half in their mouth as they stopped mid-eating.

“Ayato! You scared me..” you breathed, Ayato frowned and held his hand over his heart. “I didn’t mean to scare you, dear.. are you okay?”

You nodded your head and sighed. “It’s all good Ayato, I know you didn’t mean to.” You replied, giving him a reassuring smile to make sure he doesn’t feel bad, but he was already so.

“Did you need anything though? You must’ve come here for a reason..” Ayato nodded before averting eye contact with you, a noticeable pink blush appearing on his cheek.

He held his fist to his lips and cleared his throat. “Well.. this is embarrassing.. but I wanted to..” he stopped mid-sentence and looked back at you with a flustered face.

“Feed you.”

You stared at Ayato blankly, confused about whether or not you should be feeling happy or creeped out.. “wai- feed me?” Ayato nods. “Must I reiterate?”

Shaking your head “no” you looked down at your plate with pancakes, there was only a few left. Wanderer, Cyno, Dottore and Childe could feel their eyes twitching.

The sound of your fork clinking down onto the plate was heard and then your voice. “W-well.. I guess i don’t mind? I mean it’s a bit odd yes but why not? I haven’t been fed since I was a toddler.” You hummed.

Ayato’s lips curve upwards into a soft smile as he happily picked up your fork and stuck it in the cut pancake before placing his palm under your chin.

“Say aaaah~” You opened your mouth and said “aaaah” before chewing on the pancake, humming happily. Ayato slid the fork out of your mouth and smiled fondly at you. You were so adorable.

Thoma peeked his head out to look at Ayato feeding you, he was jealous. Why hadn’t he thought of feeling you before? It was too late now. The others stared at he fed you, suddenly a horde of men came running behind Ayato and chiming in, saying that they wanted to feed you too.

Goodness.. but it was fun to see them all fight to feed you, you had never gotten so much attention before so this was something and, to your shame, you enjoyed it.

Unfortunately, they could not take turns to feed you as that would be time consuming. They all went back to their spots and finished eating their food while sulking. After everyone had finished their food they set it inside your sink, Thoma offered to clean them and you thanked him.

You felt bad for Thoma just cleaning the dishes by himself but even when you offered to help him he shushed you with his finger pressed against your lips and told you it would be okay.

To even lay a finger on their grace without their consent was simply unforgiving. But for some reason being by your side made them so comfortable, as if you had been their friends since childhood. Was this the many affects you had on them?

After all of the dishes were washed and Thoma joined you all in the living room, you were sitting down on the couch sandwiched between Cyno and Al-haitham. Thoma noticed how majority of them looked tense and irritated, he eyed them down before seating himself down on the floor beside the others.

What Thoma had missed (somewhat as he could still hear the commotion from the other side) was everyone fighting to sit next to you. They were threatening each other and the taller and stronger men would be holding the smaller men, laughing at them.

Like how Capitano was holding Wanderer in his hand, chuckling as he found Wanderer spitting insults and threats at his face, funny. Which he did not like at all.

And in all honestly they could’ve started a war and use their powers if not for the fact that Childe had pointed out that Cyno and Al-haitham had sat themselves down by your side without them noticing.

Before anyone could’ve gotten hurt or broke anything in your house you calmed them down, telling them in a stern voice that if they broke anything you would never talk to them ever again, and it worked because they were all scared of that happening so they sat down obediently.

Wanderer and Lyney sat beside your legs and somewhat hugged them, almost scared that if they did you would scold them or find them creepy (they just wanted to be by your side).

“Hm.. what should we watch? Is there anything in particular you guys enjoy?” You hummed, skimming through Netflix, trying to find a movie for you guys to enjoy and bond over.

But there was a problem. Everybody had their preferences, some wanted horror while the others furiously shake their heads no. Some wanted rom-com but the others immediately shook their heads no.

“Oooh how about some action and adventure? Like Ant-man?” You said, pressing on the Ant-man movies as they read out the summary.

Everybody agreed on that movie and you weren’t sure if they agreed because you chose it or what.. they did choose it because you wanted it.

Not only that but it also sounded interesting. “Ant-man.. that sounds interesting! Why does he have to be an ant..? Why not a tiger or something?” Gorou questioned, looking up at you as he cocked his head to the side.

God.. he was so adorable!! Even if he didn’t mean to do the puppy-dog eyes, he still did them and he looked so squishable!

“Well I have no clue, but it sounds interesting doesn’t it? That’s why we should watch it!” The others surrounding you hummed in agreement. Standing up you walked towards the wall.

“Where are you going?”

“Turning off the lights to get into the mood.”

After turning off the lights Itto ooh’ed and got all giddy, to which wanderer gave the stank eye to him. You plopped down beside Cyno and Al-haitham and pressed the play button on the remote and set it down on the table in front of you.

During the movie there were tons of reactions, some were laughing from the comedic lines, some were nonchalant and unbothered by everything but they would sit up and lean forward a bit whenever the action would come on.

Some even teared up or straight out sobbed during the sad scenes (ahem you and Kaveh were crying and he just wanted to cling onto you crying but he was so far apart, Cyno and Al-haitham were unsure whether or not to comfort you but you weren’t in your sad feels just.. very emotional over the mother and daughter scene but they still pat you on your head and offered you tissues ahem ahem) while Xiao teared up a little bit but swiftly wiped it away before Zhongli could tease him.

Al-haitham, Dainsleif, Capitano, Pantalone and Diluc were nonchalant during the movie, only moving to get up to get more snacks. Lyney, Childe, Itto and Gorou were somewhat commenting on the movie and only got a smack from Dainsleif when they got loud.

Ayato, Kaeya, Kazuha and Freminet were all very invested in the story, plot and action. Even wincing and laughing when the characters did so too.

Baizhu was coughing every now and then with Neuvillette offering him water to drink to soothe his throat. Unfortunately many did not like how the dialogue would be interrupted by Baizhu’s coughing but before they could yell at him to shush, you would tell them to be quiet and that it wasn’t his fault—Baizhu was grateful for you and almost started to cough even more loudly from gratitude.

Aether, Heizou and Albedo were super into the action and fighting scenes. Occasionally scolding the characters in their head and planning what they would’ve done.

Venti asked you if you had any wine to offer him, you shook your head no telling him that you didn’t drink. Zhongli and Neuvillette’s urge to slap Venti was large but they thankfully restrained themselves.

Wriothesley was the only one that was watching everything going down, and always missing the part that was big in the plot. Reason why? He was watching you in awe of course, as your eyes widened and your mouth formed an “O” at an intense fighting scene or how you gasp or yelp at a jump scare.

But to tell the truth everybody was watching you like how Wriothesley was watching you.

And after one movie after another, you grabbed your phone and looked at the time, thinking you were going to see maybe 1 pm or somewhere in the afternoon, it read 8 pm.

“Already? How quick..” you mumbled under your breath, Cyno sneaked in a glance at your phone and realised it was already 8.

“Should we end the movies now? I mean I think everybody is getting a little tired now..” Cyno states, you peep your head forward and look at everybody on the floor and around you, they did seem sleepy.

“Mhm, okay, I’ll go get the guest bedroom ready and more mattresses.” You got up from the couch and began to get everything. “I’ll put everything away!” Thoma chimed in, standing up as well before putting everybody’s snacks and drinks away.

Cyno and Al-haitham got up, followed by Wanderer and Kaveh, and soon everybody got up, stretching their arms and yawning. “Geez, we watched for so long..” Childe mumbled, blinking his eyes tiredly at the TV.

Soon, Al-haitham began to walk towards your room hoping to find you there to which he did. “Y/n. Do you need any help?”

You turned around and smiled at Al-haitham sleepily. “Sure, I think I need a little help..” you mutter, holding the matter but higher to indicate you needed help with settling everything down.

Al-haitham nodded and walked towards you, grabbing the mattress and setting it down before grabbing the pillows and blanket, placing them on the mattress before glancing at you.

You seemed so tired after watching so many movies in the dark, it’s a wonder how you didn’t manage to fall asleep. Al-haitham sighs.

“Here, let me do everything okay? You get ready for bed and rest, alright?”

You glance up at him as he was much taller than you, you blink at him before furrowing your brows. “You sure? You don’t need any help at all?” Al-haitham shakes his head.

“Well alright then, thank you!” Smiling, you move towards your bathroom and as you stepped foot inside you closed the door shut.

While you were getting ready for bed, Al-haitham was making sure there were enough mattresses for everybody while keeping sure in mind that there was a guest bedroom as well.

You finished getting ready and opened the door, leaving the bathroom and found two mattresses down on the floor that could at least have two people on them. Al-haitham was truly kind and you wanted to reward him for doing something he didn’t have to do.

“You’re done? Well I finished everything so I’ll go call them to come inside. I’ll make sure they don’t make a fuss over who sleeps with you and sleeps on the floor.”

As Al-haitham was about to leave you grab ahold of his muscular arm. You didn’t expect it to be so muscular despite your eyes ogling at it since his release and arrival at your place.

“U-uhm, if you want.. since you’ve helped me how about you sleep in my bed? You don’t have to say yes! I just want to do something in return for you helping me.. I mean you really didn’t have to.”

Al-haitham stared down at you as you continued to hold onto his arm only to release your grip when you realise he wasn’t responding. “Oh, whoops my bad.”

You almost take his silence as a no when he speaks abruptly. “I.. thank you, I’ll take the offer, thank you again.” He replied softly, his eyes focused on you before averting eye contact and clearing his throat.

“I-I’ll Go get them now.” He mumbles, walking off into the living room to go grab them. You sighed and flopped down onto your neatly made bed.

All you were wearing was a tank top and shorts, it was what you normally wore and now that you were sharing a house with men it made you feel somewhat insecure, but still, the best thing in the world was feeling your bare skin touching the cold sheets.

You soon covered yourself with the covers and made yourself comfortable, grabbing one of your plushies and cuddling it, waiting for the men to come flooding in your room.

When are they going to com..

Just as you thought about them, they came through the door like a horde, all fighting over who was going to sleep next to you before Al-haitham stopped them from trampling over the mattresses with his hands like it was nothing.

“One at a time. And Y/n already said I was going to be sleeping next to her.” He said, almost in a smug tone like he was proud of you choosing him and decided to show it off.

“Okay and? There’s still one more slot!” Childe scoffed before Wanderer groaned. “Childe you literally slept with Y/n yesterday you ginger-“ “watch your mouth you purple mushroom head-“

Al-haitham sighed deeply and walked towards your bed, watching as you peeped your head to the side to see Childe and Wanderer yell insults at one another.

“Don’t mind those idiots.” Al-haitham states bluntly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Kazuha, Aether, Heizou and Ayato makes their way around everybody and begins to make themselves comfortable and take off a few of their article of clothings before lying down on the mattresses.

Finally, everybody sorted themselves out and figured out where they would sleep. With you blind choosing whoever would be the other people to sleep next to you which was Dainsleif.

Kaveh, Baizhu, Itto, Wanderer and the rest would be sleeping in the guest room much to their sadness. While Kazuha, Aether, Heizou, Ayato, Zhongli, and all that weren’t sleeping in the guest bedroom made their way to each mattress.

Everybody settled themselves on the mattresses and some even turned on the fan as they complained about it being too “hot”.

Dainsleif climbed onto the bed and took off his cape and a few other things. Al-haitham removed the covers and covered himself with the blanket.

You glanced over at Dainsleif and raised your brows. “I don’t want to be rude but aren’t you going to take off your mask?”

Dainsleif looks over at you before smiling softly, “well of course, I’ll remove it later on don’t worry. Just try and get some rest okay?” You hummed and sank down into the bed, sighing in content from being surrounded by the warmth of two very handsome men.

It’s silent and dark with only the sound of the softly humming fan. Everybody was awake and you knew it. You could hear the soft breathing of Al-haitham and Dainsleif coming from both sides of you. Soon, a thought and realisation pops in your mind.

“Wait, you guys didn’t go shower yet.. right?”

“…. Yeah..”

You sighed, knowing that you would probably have to go shopping tomorrow for clothes and sanitary products aaaand probably go broke.

> ✧ part three

note: THIS TOOK ME LIKE A COUPLE HOURS TO WRITE?? ALSO SPARE ME WITH ANYTHING RELATED TO GRAMMAR AND SPELLING I PROOF READ IT BUT AT THE SAME TIME I WAS TIRED SO.. ALSO. Im glad that you guys are enjoying this series so much 😭😭 honestly didn’t expect so many liking this so thank you guys so much!! I hope I continue to reach your expectations.

(also guys drop some suggestions or scenarios in my inbox that I could possibly add to the next chapters!)

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchijii @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @hex-vx @saltylovetale @backintomykpopphaseagain @toramune @oreo-ren @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches @amaizverydum @lovelive-animequeen1029 @roseapov @yuraasia @chellazhef @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations (if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter!)

if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few

liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

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mypoisonedvine · 9 months

Note

Tommy’s teenage love, whom he got separated from when he went to france.. Sad, bitter and heartbreaking end for them.

But now years later he sees her again, and the tension is 👀👀

I know this doesn't have to be dark but of course I made it a little dark 🤣 tommy just can't take no for an answer...

warnings: DUBCON DARK SMUT 18+ ONLY!, yandere, infidelity/cucking, breeding

It wasn't until he tried to kiss you, and you backed away, that he really got angry. Up until that point, it seemed like he'd thought the life you'd made for yourself while he was gone was just a minor inconvenience at most-- but your resistance irritated him. You didn't remember being so nervous around him when he was upset.

"Why won't you kiss me?" he asked softly, and you weren't even sure how to answer that question... wasn't it obvious?

"Thomas," you mumbled, "it was nice to catch up, but..."

He tightened his fists as you trailed off, making you feel oddly trapped while standing in your own kitchen. "I kept my promise," he told you firmly. "I never loved anyone else."

"You can't be angry with me," you scoffed. "Tommy, we were children! We didn't understand what any of it really meant--"

"You didn't really love me?" he assumed sharply.

"O-of course I did," you sighed, "Tommy, of course. I loved you so much. But I grew up."

Your fingers absent-mindedly twisted your wedding ring around your finger, guilt stirring in your chest. If you were honest with yourself, you knew you never moved on from Tommy completely-- no one ever forgets their first love. But you'd managed to put it all in the back of your mind, telling yourself that was all over... until you saw him again. Your heart could've stopped, seeing him at your door; it was like seeing him for the first time all over again, even though you could see how unkind the years had been to him.

But you had to shove all those feelings down now, and think of your husband. "You should go," you whispered, "before he gets back."

"I grew up too," he sneered, taking a step closer that made your heart race for multiple, conflicting reasons. "You have no idea the man I am now. People do what I say or they suffer consequences."

You swallowed thickly, horrified to see the darkness in his eyes-- something totally unlike the gentle, passionate young man you'd known all those years ago.

"If I want something, I take it," he continued. "Doesn't matter if it's a horse, or a gun, or another man's wife."

"Tommy," you whimpered, "my husband will be home soon... you need to leave before he comes back."

He stepped closer again, grabbing you and holding you tightly against him when you tried to step away. "Good," he decided flatly. "He can see what a little whore you are when a real man takes you."

He shoved you down onto the table harshly, ignoring your whine of pain as he pushed the bowls and plates out of the way, most of them falling off and shattering; none of that bothered him, he was too busy roughly pulling up your skirts, unfastening his trousers, holding you down. "T-Tommy, please," you choked.

"I know," he sighed, "I know, you need me so badly. How long has it been since anyone properly made love to you, darling? He could never take care of you like I do."

Sliding his fat head through your folds, you choked on a little sob.

"You still get so wet for me," he grinned happily, "still dripping, just like I remember."

Truth be told, your body still responded to him... that couldn't be denied now. You had a natural urge to give in and let him take you, let him bring you the pleasure you hadn't known since he left; but your logic and your dignity kept up the fight, though it was pretty useless against Tommy's strength-- with only one hand, he held you down while he guided his cock to your entrance.

He sighed a heavy, dark sigh of relief as he sheathed himself inside you, relaxing all over like a burden had been lifted off of him. "Oh, love," he purred, rubbing your back soothingly to try to help you stop shaking. "Oh, I'd nearly forgotten... nearly lost the memory entirely of how warm you are inside..."

You, meanwhile, were whimpering and willing your legs not to shake-- you couldn't let him see how much you loved the feeling, how you'd longed to take him inside you again, or he'd never leave you alone.

"My beautiful," he panted, "my darling..."

Setting a rough and desperate pace, his hands grabbed greedily at your body, forcing you to bite down harder on your lip to keep from moaning.

"You wouldn't believe how I missed this," he breathed. "Thought of you every day in France-- only way I survived, thinking of you... said you'd wait for me, love..."

You tried to hold back your tears, all of this bringing back emotions you thought you'd buried forever-- I would've waited for you forever, Tommy, you wanted to say, I wish I had, but I was scared that I'd never see you again.

You didn't say it, though, because you wouldn't be able to keep yourself together. You were struggling enough now, impossibly conflicted by what he was doing to you. For years you'd imagined seeing him again, but it never went quite like this in your head.

"T-Tommy," you managed choke out, and he cooed your name back at you sweetly.

"I know," he offered again, "it's really me, love-- we're really together again. I won't let you go this time."

You hadn't been lying about your husband coming home soon-- maybe Tommy thought you were, as an excuse to make him leave, but you weren't. You sobbed in shame and fear as he unlocked the door and walked in, finding you two in the kitchen with the most (understandably) bewildered look on his face.

Tommy didn't even stop.

"Wha-- Christ?! Who the fuck are you?!" your husband spat out, stammering over himself.

"I'm Tommy fuckin' Shelby," Tommy growled.

"O-oh," your husband choked, stepping back shakily towards the door. You hid your face, unable to look at him, so you only knew he left when you heard the door shut a minute later. Tommy purred and leaned down to rest his head on your back, between your shoulder blades.

"Don't think he's gonna give us any more trouble," Tommy chuckled darkly. "Fuck, love, I'm so close already-- never knew how to control myself with you..."

The way he breathed against your skin-- that hadn't changed at all. You hadn't even realized you remembered it until you heard it, and it was like you were that girl again, the girl he loved so long ago-- but you weren't anymore, or at least, that's what you had thought.

"Almost ready to fill you up nice and deep, hm?"

"Tommy," you choked, tensing up under him, and he groaned happily.

"Can't wait for our little family, darling," he cooed, "all the babies we're gonna have-- like we talked about back then, remember?"

His thrusts came faster and harder, shaking the whole table under you, and you kept hiding your face so you could try to deny your pleasure. Maybe you could hide it from yourself, but it was useless trying to hide it from him.

"I know how badly you need it," he groaned, "how long you've wanted this-- I'm yours, love, all yours again. You'll never have to be away from me again."

You knew what that really meant was that you'd never get a chance to be away from him again. It scared you just as much as it comforted you.

He came deep inside you with a long, low moan-- and for a long time, he just stayed within you, catching his breath. He only pulled out so he could lift you up a bit, turning you to face him, and finally getting you to kiss him this time. You struggled to focus on kissing him back when you could feel his come running down your thighs.

"You were always mine," he informed you with a gentle whisper against your lips. "Doesn't matter whose ring is on your finger. You'll always be mine."

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #dark!tommy shelby smut #dark!tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby dark fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut

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benisasoftboi · 8 months

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I am so happy with the conclusion of BBC Ghosts.

There were so many things I loved about the final series that I can't even keep it all straight in my brain, I'll have to rewatch it all (and the Christmas special, of course! Must remember it's the not the true end yet!)

But something I can immediately say I loved was what they didn't do. See, that line in the trailer that turned out to be from episode 5 - about there being a pattern to when they move on - worried me. One of the best things about the show, to me, is how there truly is not any reason at all to why the ghosts are there, or when they go. It's something the creators have said over and over, and that the show has always backed up; we saw so many times that, unlike in most ghost media, addressing unfinished business or achieving emotional resolution changes absolutely nothing. Pat hit some sort of emotional resolution three times. And Julian realised the importance of family, and Robin saved someone’s life, and Thomas discovered the truth of his death, and so on and so on. Finding closure isn't the end, and equally, the end isn't predicated by a climatic conclusion. It just happens. And the same is true for why people become ghosts. It just happens. And you exist, and fill your days, and then you’re gone. And no one knows why.

It's kind of the most agnostic television show I've ever seen.

I love that. Every other afterlife show I've ever seen has some kind of reward and punishment system. Or at least says that there's a reason for things, some kind of higher power at play, not necessarily a god but something like it. Even the American adaptation felt the need to bring Hell into it, which is why I need to specify that I'm only talking about the British version here. And I feel like a lot of fans wanted there to be reasons too, or felt like there simply had to be, that it wasn't even a question. I get why - it's not just because it's the standard for ghost narratives. It's really uncomfortable to think about the randomness of life and death. But Mary didn't go because of anything that happened before that day, and Cap was never going to go because he came out, and one day, when they've all gone, there won't have been a reason for it.

Because the real point of BBC Ghosts is that there is no point. You’ve just got to make it through the days, surrounded by people that irritate you, trapped in a confusing world where you’re mostly powerless. And it sucks, and you're angry, and sad, and bored as hell. And you also find happiness in the mundane chaos, and you get really good at chess, and watch the ants in the garden, and write bad poetry, and read terrible romance novels, and gamble money you don't have, and go camping, and play games, and learn French, and watch reality TV, and have sex with a decapitated Tudor nobleman’s body, and dance to old music, and look at the stars, and find that you actually really love all those annoying people after all, and that’s the point.

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts spoilers #bbc ghosts series 5 #but imagine if they prove me wrong by melodramatically killing them all off at christmas though lmao actually that would be hilarious do it #also love so very much that they finished on a gay joke they know who's on the front lines for them <3 #god it's a cliche but really do already miss 'em

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xvysarene · 1 month

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𝕋𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤

Pairing: Rafayel x Fem!Reader Prompt: “You left me to drown.” Words: ~2.2k Genre: Light Angst, Comfort, Suggestive (mild) [ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

The sky was awash with streaks of crimson and gold bleeding into the indigo expanse, signaling the impending dusk.

You stopped beside the colossal sea stack, admiring the breathtaking view. Waves crashed against the weathered rocks with gentle tranquility, a stark contrast to the turmoil within your heart.

“Are you done running?” a whispered voice carried away by the salty breeze.

Voice that you hadn’t heard for almost a year.

You couldn’t help the wry chuckle escaping your lips. “Last time I remember, I was the one waking up to an empty bed after a night of giving myself to you.”

Your skin involuntarily tingled with the residual sensation of his touch. His lips, warm and insistent, had traced a map of pleasure across your skin, exploring every curve and contour with a thoroughness that left you breathless and wanting more.

Months-long restrained emotion bubbled up to the surface. "Thomas couldn't find you, your aunt couldn't find you, even your bodyguard couldn't find you. So pray tell Rafayel, are you done running?"

Even in the fading light, you could see him taken aback by the hostility dripping from your words.

“I thought you would be happy to see me after all of this time.”

Exasperatedly you turned towards him, finding him standing several steps away from you.

He looked the same, if not even more handsome, and you hated that it made the fury inside your heart momentarily dim.

All-white button-up and trousers hugged his figure, one he knew that you loved as if it was a tactic to unravel you. He was a blank canvas in the explosion of colours surrounding you both.

“No notes, no messages, all I'm left with is a ridiculously priced ring adorning my finger." You rubbed the now empty ring finger, still feeling the phantom weight of the gemstone.

He didn’t miss the gesture. “Did you not like the ring? Is that why you threw it away to the depth of the sea?”

“Is that all you can say after walking out of my life?” Your voice rising, annoyed at his nonchalance.

Annoyed at the absurdity of this situation like you hadn’t seen each other for months.

His brows furrowed at the accusation. “I did not walk out of your life, didn’t you receive the stuff I sent you?”

If he was referring to the plethora of stuff stacked inside a box under your bed collecting dust, then yes you did receive them.

You had attempted to decipher the meaning behind the items he sent each month, desperately trying to connect them with his whereabouts, but to no avail.

Even with the resources and connections Thomas had, Rafayel seemed to be always one step ahead, not leaving any breadcrumbs of where he might have gone next.

“You are present in all of my paintings; you remain a constant in my thoughts,” he continued when you remained silent.

Since his departure, new paintings arrived biweekly or monthly at Mo Art Studio, each delivery serving as a soothing balm for Thomas's weary soul.

It wasn't until his manager pointed out certain colour choices and what you had always considered random lines and patterns that you began to notice elements of yourself in his paintings; the shade of your irises, the main lines on your palms, the arch of your eyebrows watching his antics.

You gritted your teeth. “Provide a reasonable explanation for your lack of verbal communication.”

He tore away from your gaze, suddenly looking timid, hand rubbing the back of his neck. It was a habit of his whenever he felt nervous. “I embark on a self-discovery,” he began.

“I needed some time for internal reflection. It allows me to really dive deep into my thoughts and emotions without any external distractions—just let me explain first,” he said rapidly before you could chide him on thinking that you were a distraction.

Honestly, you couldn’t even voice out any response as that wasn’t the answer you were expecting.

“I've been overly reliant on you, and limiting our communication forced me to depend on my own. I want to be someone you can rely on instead; someone you can lean and depend on.”

“What about that woman, then?” you blurted out, the question heavy on the tip of your tongue ever since you had first come across the article.

It had been seven months and two weeks since his absence when you stumbled upon the article.

Normally, you weren't particularly tuned into the fashion industry, but somehow the news from Nexusburg had found its way onto your daily curated feed.

You had vaguely recognised the designer’s striking face and figure. Your attention, however, zoomed in on those unmistakable tendrils of dusky purple hair, despite most of his head being obscured by the dark tint of the limousine’s window.

“I commissioned her to create… something of great significance.” You sensed ambiguity lacing his words. “You know how reporters constantly fabricate stories that lack truth."

“Do they, really? Lack of truth?”

Rafayel approached you with hesitant steps, fearing you might slip away from his advance.

“You left me to drown, Rafayel.” The words pierced through him like shards of glass. “Drowning in ‘what if’s’, drowning in my insecurity.”

As he drew near, he took in the multitude of emotions playing across your face: hurt, confusion, anger.

“You were gone for eight months. Eight months! Did you believe that merely slipping a ring onto my finger would make me feel better for your absence?”

The anger drained your body of energy as you sank onto the rock behind. Jagged edges kept you painfully aware that this was reality, not a mere figment of your imagination.

“I'm sorry,” he pleaded.

"You're selfish, Rafayel," your voice trembled with a mixture of anger and hurt. "You know my insecurity gets the best of me at times, and yet you didn't even stop to think for once on how I would feel…this is not the first time."

You could see the moment realisation began to flicker in his bluish-pink eyes.

When Rafayel hired a new female bodyguard and began spending a significant amount of time with her, it left you feeling uneasy.

It wasn’t until his own bodyguard confronted him in front of you, chastising him for neglecting your feelings and the lack of communication as she noticed your distress, that you finally felt at ease with their relationship. You understood their brother-sister dynamics.

But this time, days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months since you last saw him. Doubts began to plague your mind.

“It was nothing like that,” he protested. “Nexusburg was my last stop. I had thought of returning as soon as the designer finished her work.”

The article's prominently highlighted phrase 'SECRET ROMANCE' had stirred your restless heart to its breaking point that day.

You recalled standing atop the very sea stack towering behind you, witnessing the light glinting off the ring as you cast it into the unforgiving waves below.

"You went on a journey of self-discovery, but it seems like you've forgotten why you needed it in the first place.”

Rafayel's heart constricted with guilt. “I never meant to make you feel that way, I—I thought you would understand.”

Then, he retrieved something from his pocket, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

“How…?!”

The marquise-cut lilac tanzanite glimmered with a captivating hue, casting a hypnotic light against the backdrop of twilight skies. Delicate accents of soft pink pearls surrounded the gemstone, lending a gentle touch to the intricate design.

It still managed to steal your breath away, its beauty as enchanting as ever.

"I specifically requested the bijoutier to blend my crushed scales into the band. It brings me comfort knowing that you’re safe, and knowing that you think of me whenever you touch it.”

He traced his finger along the smooth surface of the gemstone, the memory of him quietly placing the ring while you slept was as clear as yesterday in his mind.

The outline of your figure etched against the soft glow of dawn. Vivid shade of pinkish-red blemishes against your skin, evidence of the intense night shared between the two of you.

“It motivates me to finish my journey, so I can return to your embrace as soon as possible… Until you threw it away and I thought of the worst.”

You gazed at him in disbelief as he unveiled that the ring held far greater significance than you had ever imagined.

Who would have thought that he could charm the ring that way? Everything slowly made sense why he had immediately called you repeatedly moments after you threw the ring.

Then there was Aunt Talia rushing towards you, tousled and wide-eyed, far from her normally immaculate appearance as you made your way back down.

Barefooted, as if she had rushed out of her nearby house in a hurry.

He returned just two days after you had discarded the ring. When calls were left unanswered, he enlisted Thomas and his bodyguard.

You had threatened to call the police on Thomas when he couldn’t stop appearing in front of your front door. His bodyguard, the only one with a working mind it seemed, nodded in understanding and promptly ushered Thomas away from your doorstep.

“The ring reminds me of you,” longing laced your voice.

As you glanced down at the beauty, the sparkling gemstone and pearls seemed to reflect his hair and eye colour. Its elaborate design mirrored his complexity; intricate and beautiful yet multifaceted.

“And here I thought that you didn’t like the pearls I handpicked… I knew that it was too good to be true when the oysters were being friendlier than usual.”

Pale skin crimsoned as he snapped his mouth shut. His flow of thoughts always seemed to have a mind of their own, escaping from his mouth before he could rein them in.

It was frustrating how you still found it endearing, even at times like this. Perhaps the lover you knew hadn’t changed much after all.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, "Rafayel, you can't just waltz into my life again as if nothing happened.”

"I know I messed up, Y/N," he admitted, his eyes pleading for understanding. “But I couldn’t stand away any longer."

Despite your anger towards his actions, you couldn't deny how much you had missed him too.

He inched closer, giving you plenty of time to move away, however, you remained rooted to the spot.

Familiar strands of dusky purple hair, the very ones you had passionately tangled your fingers in as he ravished you the last time, just within arm's reach now.

A hand reached out, moving away your salty-breeze ruffled hair from covering your face.

"Why did you choose to see me again at last?"

Aunt Talia had invited you for a high tea, weeks after Rafayel's persistent attempts to see you finally ceased. Deep down, you knew that this was another attempt made by him.

But you remembered how the older woman had opened her doors whenever the insecurity became too strong during his absence, and it felt disrespectful to sever ties just because you weren't ready to face her nephew.

“Rafayel is coming,” Aunt Talia calmly said moments earlier.

The clink of her cup meeting the saucer caused you to jerk, tea sloshing around your rose-adorned cup dangerously.

“You’re free to leave anytime, I’m not going to force you to meet him.”

Looking up, you found orchid-coloured eyes boring into yours.

“Just keep in mind that he will never stop searching for you. Yes, he’s selfish, but you know how us, Lemurians, are,” she sighed then, “ We're relentless when it comes to protecting what we cherish. And you, my dear, hold a special place in his heart.”

"I needed to understand why you did what you did, why you left without a word,” you finally admitted.

Regret flickered his eyes. "I should have been more considerate.”

As his long fingers traced the curve of your jaw, your breath hitched. It had been too long since you felt his caress against your skin, and you found yourself longing for more.

Laboured breaths and dilated pupils told you that his body had reacted similarly. Finding the mutual desire in your eyes, he closed the gap between you without any word.

Lips collided in a fervent kiss. Fueled by a mix of pent-up pain and yearning. Each brush of his lips against yours was a plea for forgiveness, a desperate attempt to mend the fractures in your relationship.

Bodies molded together, fitting like pieces of a puzzle long overdue for completion. There was an insatiable hunger for each other that needed to be satisfied.

“I will wait for you, whenever you're ready to accept me again in your life,” he murmured gently as his lips parted from yours.

You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity in those bright orbs you loved so much, and felt a tug at your heart. Silently, he took your hand and slid the ring back onto your finger, to its rightful place.

The same lips that you had just kissed earlier were now on top of the lilac gemstone.

“Keep this so I know that you’re safe, and whenever you’re ready—” Artist's palms cradled your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks lovingly. “I’ll be waiting for you at the end of the aisle, witnessing your beauty wearing the veil I've designed just for you."

As the light faded on the horizon, you realised that perhaps this love was worth fighting for, even if it meant navigating through the perilous waters of forgiveness and redemption.

#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x y/n #love and deepspace x you #rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x y/n #rafayel x you #light angst #comfort #suggestive

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let-roman-bite-someone · 4 months

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i know i've said this before but i'm so tired of people acting like Patton is the general embodiment of morality. as if he is the personification of the legal justice system and everything he does must be good and fair™.

folks, Patton is Thomas's morality. remember what Virgil said in the Q&A episode?

this applies to all of the sides. every single one of them.

Remus wouldn't be the same for everyone, different people have different types of intrusive thoughts. Logan wouldn't be the same for everyone, different people have had different levels of education, different forms of intelligence and different applications of logic.

but the funny thing is, i never see people criticize the other sides for being too representative of their title. they don't reprimand Virgil for making Thomas anxious because that's his job. they don't bash Roman for being a perfectionist. but for some reason, people expect Patton to be a saint who does no wrong.

it's emphasized so clearly in multiple episodes that the sides are the result of Thomas's upbringing specifically. Patton is simply the moral code that Thomas's parents and on a larger scale, society, had taught him.

“Patton was so accepting of Virgil but he couldn't accept Remus or Janus!”

yeah. because it's easier to deal with anxiety than it is to deal with intrusive thoughts. don't get me wrong, anxiety is definitely a serious issue. but Thomas's anxiety never went directly against his morals, if anything, Virgil's perspective aligned very much with Patton's. being anxious about say embarrassing yourself in public or not getting your work done in time is not as morally concerning as having thoughts about murdering your brother.

but Thomas, like many of us, grew up with no one to tell him what intrusive thoughts are or how to deal with them. when Patton was chastising Thomas for having these thoughts, that's just Thomas beating himself up over something he can't control.

the same goes for Janus. Patton had a hard time accepting Janus because Thomas had learned to always be selfless since when he was younger, and Janus was challenging that point of view. when Patton was pushing Thomas to be selfless, that's just Thomas pushing himself and feeling guilty at the thought of focusing on his own needs.

i feel like people think that Patton is actually Thomas's father figure or something. i understand if he reminds you of someone toxic in your life and it can be uncomfortable to watch. but while it's good to relate to the media you are consuming, it's also important to view things in context.

Patton is not a person, he's not an individual who has the freewill to do what he wants. he is only Thomas's morality and what his morals are heavily depends on what Thomas was taught and how he was raised.

Patton cannot control the morals that Thomas had learned. he can only try to implement them in Thomas's life and unless Thomas himself decides to unlearn some of the unhealthy ideals that he has internalized, Patton cannot go against his nature. he can only do what he has been programmed to do, with the knowledge that he has.

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moonah-rose · 5 months

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Right! Here we go. Ghosts Finale Positivity Post as I rewatch.

- Robin being an excited little kid for Christmas is the cutest thing, even if it's Halloween.

- Alison's face when she's showing the ghosts Mia before she has to put the mask on. Also the fact one of her first priorities after giving birth was for Mike to call them and reassure her they're OK.

- "Since Alison come, it been my favorite time of year." I love you Robin, I love you, I love you.

- Nana Fanny is surprisingly sweet? I never imagined her being that maternal before, she never spoke of her children.

- "Robin want more." 🥺 HE IS SO BABY.

- "Think of the child, Alison!" Thomas just kills it with that line. 😂

- Julian caring about putting Robin in the Christmas mood. Chess Husbands are the Joey and Chandler of this show for me.

- Mike was fully about to reveal the truth to Betty but his wife said Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss. It's just so on point for them.

- "She doesn't want to see Fanny on camera." Has someone compiled all these jokes yet?

- Alison's little thumbs up to Julian, they are just chaos buddies.

- Mike being a terrible liar is hilarious.

- Mike warning the ghosts to leave! Like he has no real connection to these guys except through Alison but doesn't want any of them in danger. 🥺

- "Betty's bought the pastor!" "Pasta? That not very Christmassy." Robin I swear to god.

- That close in shot of Julian is the funniest scene in the episode. Also Robin "I think we should go-" chess husbands stick together.

- Kitty remembering Humphrey! She's always seemed to be the one who is most concerned for him. <3

- This. Just this.

- Thomas, normally the most self-obsessed git, being the one to jump into the line of fire to rescue Humphrey is also <3 <3

- This expression on Alison broke my heart and had me going "babygirl oh babygirl!" at my TV.

- But then.... 😁🥰😁

- CHESS HUSBANDS SHOULDER TOUCH

- As chaotic as the scene is, Kitty wanting to sing Mia a lullaby is cute and shows she's trying to move past her jealousy...I think.

- Fanny calling Alison her daughter. I'm not OK.

- This had me howling. 😂

- Mike saying "thanks guys." There's as many Mike / ghosts moments as Alison ones here.

- Julian being so happy Robin feels Christmassy!

- This could be an oil painting. My girl. 😭

- Best use of a song and lyrics timed with what's happening.

- THE PORTRAITS! Such a tiny detail but tells you Alison had her input into how the hotel was set up. She made it for her and Mike but she left it for THEM!

- The last we hear from Alison is her laughter. All these years. All these years and they are loving and LAUGHING together.

- Plague Ghosts always had to be the ones to bow us out. Again, while she wasn't super close to them, I like to think Alison suggested the pit as a good place for the spa, for them. 🥰

.....Okay that was a little better on second viewing ngl.

(For anyone wondering why I don't mention any of the PatCap moments, sorry I'm just not a big fan of baby scenes and babytalk etc.)

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts christmas special #a christmas gift #six idiots #found family #alison cooper #robin ghosts #humphrey bone #chess husbands #bbc ghosts spoilers

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lumosinlove · 6 months

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Vaincre

June part i

Hope you all enjoy! Maybe all of Finn's superstitions in this chapter can go towards helping me beat this cold I've got...

Also, it's beginning to look a lot like ficmas...doo doo doo doo doo...:)

Ain’t it funny how I’ve wanted this all my life?

It started with a no look pass. That’s when Remus felt the buzz. Sirius had nearly put one in from James, who had kept his eyes straight ahead, drawing Saint’s attention. And it had almost worked. At least it had brought the promising feeling of a win. The click of the team. Remus shouldn’t be thinking like that. They were six minutes away from the first period's horn and this game changed at the drop of a hat. Logan had collided with Kota at one point, and there was something there now. Quiet hostility. A they were mine first type of deal. Remus could see it all over Logan’s face, no matter how much Kota loomed over him.

Now the Rangers had a high sticking penalty. Remus took his mouth guard out as the whistle blew and shoved it into his glove. Sirius was on the other side of the ice, on the tail of one of the referees and talking a mile a minute, gesturing to James and his bloody lip. There was a kid at the glass just behind him with a sign that said Nuts for Knutty! and he was still clutching the puck Leo had thrown him earlier. Remus almost wished the game would just pause for a moment so he could take it in properly. If this was to be the last game of his first season in the NHL, he wanted to remember it.

“Ouch,” Remus said to James as they circled close for the face-off.

“You bet,” James said, dabbing at his mouth.

Coach kept him on for the penalty kill. Sirius faced off against Zibanejad and Remus darted backwards when he won it. It had that game six feeling: All of them just wanting it to be over already, the slog of knowing that, if the Lions wanted it to go their way, they had one more full game stretch after this one to push through. Maybe more. Play-offs meant there was no over-time, and no shoot-out, just endless periods until someone gave in.

The puck was stuck in their zone and Thomas was beginning to look gassed. Kasey was up in the net, shifting with every ebb and flow of the Rangers’ passing. Remus poked the puck out from Kakko’s grasp and hoped it was clean—he’d nearly felt like he’d hooked it, but the whistle didn’t go. He managed to get it out of the zone and saw Thomas and Olli race off towards the bench gratefully.

He and Sirius didn’t say anything once they were seated next to each other, just caught their breath and watched. Pascal delivered a sound slap-shot, but it went just wide. Logan got the rebound, easy, and sent it to Fox. The horn went just before they put anything real together.

“D’accord,” Sirius said, tapping Remus’ thigh. “We’re not good, but we’re not bad.”

“What an endorsement.”

Remus handed off his gloves off to be dried as they walked down the tunnel. He could hear fans shouting their names as they passed by the glass that looked into the VIP lounge. There was a small girl standing there in a BLACK jersey. Remus watched as Sirius smiled down at her and touched his glove to the glass. The girl grinned and a woman who Remus thought must be her mother promptly burst into tears.

“Jesus.” Thomas laughed from behind him.

“Just me, actually,” Sirius said, and Thomas shoved him.

The locker room already had music playing so Remus guessed that Coach had decided to let them be, or perhaps Sirius had requested a players only break. Remus sat back in his stall and yanked his helmet off. He cut through the beat up tape of his stick with a short blade and sent a look towards Leo, who had a towel around his neck. He was leaned in close to Kasey, who was talking quietly to him.

“Kind of thought Coach was going to say something,” Thomas said. “Is Cap…”

“I didn’t hear him ask,” Remus said, but looked towards Sirius. He was glancing towards the door, too. It opened, and Remus expected Arthur or one of the assistants, but to his surprise, Alex O’Hara slipped through. He was in full gear, only a backwards hat replacing his helmet.

“Oh,” Remus breathed. He looked towards Kasey and Leo. Oh.

“What the hell,” Thomas said. He opened his mouth, obviously ready to shout something at Alex, but Remus put a hand on his thigh to stop him. Thomas looked over at him. “What?”

Kasey had already seen Alex and Remus watched his chest rise and fall in a quick, uneven breath. He put a hand on Leo’s knee, gave him a short smile, and then stood just as Alex reached him. Alex put a hand on his waist, but they said nothing. Kasey simply held his gaze for a long moment, and then turned to the room.

Oh.

“Hey, boys,” Kasey said, voice raised. “Boys, can I…” He’d taken some of his padding off, his hair pushed back from his face. “Can I talk for a second?”

It took everyone a moment to quiet down. They were a little surprised, maybe. Kasey wasn’t one to make speeches, even if it was a players only meeting, but he walked slowly to the center of the locker room.

“Sorry,” he smiled, but it was shaky. “I know we’re all focused on the W. I’ll be quick.”

“Don’t worry, Bliz. What’s up?” Sirius said, and Remus saw that his gray eyes were already somber. They darted to Remus’. If Remus had to guess, Kasey had asked Sirius to keep the room clear for him. Maybe even to have someone get Alex.

“Well. Thanks, Cap.” He looked around at them all. “Look, I know our season’s not over, boys, but I just wanted to say…God.” Kasey cleared his throat, looked down so his hair fell back into his face some. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Kase,” Alex said softly from just behind him.

Remus couldn’t describe how difficult it was, watching Kasey, Kasey of all people, get choked up. Watch him work to speak around tears. He watched some of the others realize what was probably about to happen. Thomas’ face fell. Leo stood, like he was going to go to Kasey.

“There, uh,” Kasey cleared his throat, tried for a smile. “There isn’t much I love more than you guys. Really. These years have just been the best of my life.”

“Bliz…” James breathed, took a step forward. The realization was slow around the room, but it was there. This had been in the air for so long that it felt strange to see it properly.

“Really, they have.” Kasey said. “I mean…God, lock me in this room, see if I put up a fight. I won’t. But. But it’s not good for me. I don’t want out of this game, I really don’t, I just—my body can’t do it anymore, boys. And I have to see that. I have to respect it.”

Remus put a hand to his chest. It was the strangest thing, he couldn’t remember ever having any sort of conversation like this one with his college teammates. Sometimes, he thought he had forced himself to forget moments from that time. Pushed them out of his mind. Now, he tried to remember. He tried to think of saying goodbye, or good game, or even being in the locker room with his sling. He couldn’t remember, but he wanted to help Kasey and so he tried. All that came was a blur of pain and dark rooms and a young, young Julian.

“I just…I have a feeling that…” Kasey wiped at his eyes. “Fuck. I know I shouldn’t have done this in the middle of a fucking—elimination game, oh my God.” It drew a small laugh out of most of the team. “You know, this isn’t gonna be our final game of the season, no fucking way, but it could be mine because it’s hard out there and—” His voice pitched up and he cleared his throat. “And I didn’t want it to happen, I didn’t want it to end, without everyone knowing, which is probably—maybe at one point in my life I would’ve called that selfish but I don’t think it is now.”

And then Leo was at his side, hand on his shoulder. He was crying, too, blue eyes vivid.

Kasey smiled and wrapped an arm around him. “And look whose fucking hands you’re in, all right? You’re good as golden.”

There was a heartbeat of silence. No one seemed to know what to say. Leo hugged Kasey, eyes closed and fisting the back of his jersey. Sirius walked forward next, and it seemed to break the spell.

“Don’t tempt me about locking you in here, Bliz,” Thomas said as he strode forward. “I just might do it.”

Kasey laughed as Thomas pulled him into a tight hug. He thumped Kasey on the back. “You going back out with us, right?”

“I want to,” Kasey said. “I think I can.”

“We’ll get this for you,” Sirius said. He put a hand on Kasey’s shoulder. “This is still yours, all of it. No matter what. You know that.”

Kasey looked at Sirius for a long moment. “Cap. Thank you. I don’t think my career would be the same without you.”

Sirius brow drew together and he shook his head. “Non. It’s all you, man.”

His eyes went behind Sirius. “And Dumo…” He pressed his lips together, unable to finish. “I…You’re…”

“Bliz,” Pascal smiled softly. “I’m probably not too far behind you in this case. I know that.”

Remus walked forward and put a hand on Sirius’ back.

“All I can say is that it’s an honor to play with you at our backs,” Pascal said.

Someone let out a whoop, and then they room was sort of clapping, sort of crying, and at least one strand of tension broke.

“I’m feeling a group hug,” Thomas said. “No, Cap, don’t pull that look on me. C’mon. Everyone, get your ass up.”

Remus couldn’t help but laugh, tearful as it was as he let Sirius wrap him up on one side, Thomas on the other. Timmy, Olli, Kota, Leo, Kris, Pascal.

There was a little jostle after a moment as a final person enthusiastically joined.

“Alex,” Pascal said without opening his eyes. “You should absolutely be here, but get your elimination game Ranger blue out of our hug.”

“My bad.”

Finn didn’t like being home alone. He didn’t like that he couldn’t watch the game. He didn’t like saying goodbye to Leo and Logan, knowing they weren’t going to the same place—or even if they were, to different teams. He wanted to be in the room. He wanted to play, he wanted the burn of his muscles. He wanted to press his shoulder up against Logan’s, or Alex’s, he wanted to defend Kasey and fight anything that even touched Leo.

Instead he was sitting on the couch with all the lights off and the shades down, listening to the crackle of the radio broadcast come from his computer with the screen turned away from him. He was waiting for period two to start, not in the tunnel to the ice, but when a a plate of what felt like the first truly solid food he’d eaten in weeks. Logan had given him a big kiss when he’d asked for Leo’s spicy chicken and rice burritos. Leo and hummed away happily in the kitchen making them and served him one with a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Okay, being taken care of wasn’t that hard.

His phone rang and he knew it was his mom without having to check.

“Hi,” he said around a mouthful, flipping the screen down towards the couch.

“Hi, baby. Just checking in. Fast game, huh? You doing okay? Eating dinner?”

“Mhm, I’m good. I mean—you know. As good as I can be. Listening.”

“Aw, sweetheart. I know.” He could hear the buzz of the stadium behind her, picked out Natalie’s laugh. “I know this isn’t how you pictured it at all.”

Finn sat back against the couch. “Yeah. Did you see Al?”

“For a second before the game. And Logan. He said that if we talk to you during the game to say he loves you.”

Finn smiled. “Mm. Good. How’s Leo looking on the bench?”

“Oh, they showed just the cutest shot of him like a little turtle—well, no a very tall turtle, with his mouth and nose in his jersey. But he seems good. Kasey seems good, too. He’s made some incredible saves.”

“They sound incredible,” Finn said. “Got your whiskey?”

She laughed. “Oh, you know it. Oh, baby, we’re starting. Gotta go, but I love you very much all right? Your dad, says so, too.”

“Love ya, bud!” came his dad’s voice from a little farther away.

Finn, honestly, felt a little choked up. He blinked the tears away and looked around the dim room. They would only make his head ache. “Love you guys, too.”

He heard the phone disconnect and rested his head back against the couch, suddenly not so hungry anymore. He wrapped his plate up for later and squinted an eye shut at the bright refrigerator light. He put the kettle on—could nothing be easy while using one hand?—and steeped some mint tea. When he came back to the couch, throwing a blanket over his legs, the commercials were over.

No, let’s be honest, if Kasey Winter hadn’t made those saves in the first—I don’t know where the Lions would be right now. Sitting in their dressing room and making fucking long summer plans, that’s for sure. Instead, this is a close game, a competitive game, and most importantly, both teams are still in the game.

I agree with you, Matt. Let’s go to the bench now, for an interview with Rangers’ Logan Tremblay.

“Oh, hi, baby,” Finn said softly.

Thanks, Matt. This is Cassie Baker here with Logan Tremblay—

Finn sat bolt upright. He knew—He knew that voice. Cassie. God. Cassie fucking Baker.

Logan, how do you think this period is going to shape up based on how aggressive that first period was so far?

“Holy fuck.” Finn couldn’t help but laugh. “Holy fuck?”

To Logan’s credit, he sounded just as shocked, as if he’d simply turned around and found Cassie there waiting for him. Cassie Baker. Finn remembered bouncing blonde curls and that god-damn Greek temple of the girl’s sorority house at school. Logan kissing her neck in the hallway. Harz, can we have the room for a bit? Coming back from a cancelled class and hearing—

Finn put a hand over his mouth and laughed again. “Okay. Oh man.”

I think we are two teams that want this badly, Logan was saying. Oh, he sounded so good. It’s going to be a fight, but hopefully entertaining for the fans.

How does it feel to possibly have the chance to eliminate your old team?

“Oh no,” Finn let himself fall sideways into the couch, right onto his shoulder. “Fuck.”

Logan’s laugh, disbelieving, still surprised, filled the room. Um. Intense.

Thanks for the time.

I—thanks.

Finn sat back up, holding his shoulder. Never had he ever wanted to talk to them more. He wanted to see Logan’s face. He wanted to see Leo with his chin tucked down against his chest. He didn’t want Leo sitting on the bench alone all game, watching the others work.

Zibanejad and Black on the face-off. The Rangers have a majority of these under their belts now, but Black wins in and it’s knocked back to Lupin. Remus Lupin, quite the surprise, the secret weapon, there are Olympic rumors, and Walker brings it right to the net—and scores! Oh, this game finally has some action!

“That makes one of us,” Finn said aloud to the room. He wasn’t sure he usually talked to himself this much. Maybe it was only that he couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d been alone. The hospital room, he guessed, but even that had been for mere minutes, not hours. He tugged the blanket farther up his chest and pressed his nose into his sweatshirt. Leo’s. He held his mug close to his face. The mint. Logan’s.

Dumais to Reyes, oh, in a near miss! It’s pitched out of the zone by Fox and picked up again by Goodrow—

Finn winced as the thought that he didn’t care who won the game filtered into his mind. He just wanted them to come home.

Luke caught onto Logan’s look the second he was sat back on the bench, breathing hard.

“What,” Luke said. “What the fuck’s that look?”

Logan wasn’t sure where to begin. He risked another glance towards the ice tunnel. Cassie was standing there with the cameraman. She looked the same. Her hair was a shiny dark blonde, blue eyes bright, forget-me-not. She carried herself the same. She was talking fast to the cameraman, directing him with her hand that wasn’t holding her microphone. Confident. Easy. She dressed differently. Smart, well-tailored navy suit that made her short frame look taller. Their eyes met, and she sent him another nervous smile.

“Fuck,” Logan said. He flashed a quick one back and turned away.

“What?” Luke asked.

Paul, Rangers PR, had said nothing more than, Tremblay, you’re ESPN’s interview and then Logan had looked up to find…

Hi, Logan. Yeah, probably should’ve warned you a little better… It’s been a while.

Luke punched him in the arm. “Logan.”

“Ex-girlfriend.” Logan swallowed.

“Girlfriend?” Alex asked, perking up. “You, girlfriend?”

“Ouais.”

“Oh my God, show me.”

“The ESPN reporter.” Luke and Alex both whipped their heads around and Logan closed his eyes. “Don’t look.”

Alex ignored him. “The blonde?”

“She’s cute,” Luke said.

“Stop looking.”

“Didn’t she just interview you?” Alex asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you know?”

“Obviously not,” Luke said. “Dude, you look fucking rattled, what did she do to you?”

Logan didn’t really want to think on it now. They had been good. Happy. For months, really. But she hadn’t had all of him, and she’d figured that much out quickly, if not who the rest of his heart was with.

“It’s more… It’s more what I did to her.” Logan shared a glance with Alex. “Or what I felt like I did to her.”

“Huh,” Luke said. “This is transcending bench talk.”

“Ooh,” Alex said. “Big word.”

“Fuck off.” Luke smiled a little, though. “Can you play with your ex-girlfriend watching, Tremzy?”

Logan hit Luke’s helmet with his stick. “Fuck off.”

Alex snorted as he pushed off the bench with Logan when Coach tapped their shoulders. “Are we gonna talk about the Leo Knut tendencies you seem to have always possessed?”

“Big word.” Logan shoved him so hard that he actually fell over, laughing all the way down. That was sure to be on Twitter somewhere later.

And Tremblay shoves O’Hara down. Laughing. Wonder what was so funny.

Finn sighed. “You and me both, bud.”

“Dev!”

Logan caught Luke’s back-pass and found himself trapped in the corner with Pascal, the puck between their two stick blades. Logan laughed a little, thought he heard Pascal do the same, but it was over too quickly to say anything. Logan knocked it out to Luke again who drew his stick right back and slammed it towards the goal. Kasey lunged for it, the odd, acute angle, but it went right under his glove.

“Yeah!” Logan put his hands up with a grin. He tried not to look at Pascal out of the corner of his eye.

He tapped his glove to Luke’s helmet when he skated into the celly, Percy slamming into their other side.

“Fucking finally, eh,” Percy shouted. He bumped his fist against Luke’s chest, then Logan’s. “Killer pass. Gorgeous.”

There was a buzzing in Logan’s ears. The crowd. Faces that were familiar but not from now. It was like someone had put a filter over his life and all the colors were different. His eyes found Leo on the bench. He was watching the replay on the big screen.

With ten minutes left in the second period, it did feel right that they had finally scored. Tied up, one-one. Logan skated to the bench and hauled himself over it, watching Panarin’s line go out.

He squirted water down the back of his neck and hit Luke’s thigh. “Good.”

“Yeah, well.” Luke wiped his visor clean with a towel. “Let’s just try and keep it up and end this round.”

Logan didn’t say anything. There was that feeling again. The one he couldn’t quite admit to himself. It was real once this round was over—or even realer than it was now. He wasn’t a Lion anymore. He was someone who ended the Lions’ season.

Panarin’s shot went wide twice and Trouba shot one over Kasey’s shoulder that got overturned for interference. Kasey stood with his back to the ice while the referees reviewed it. He had his helmet up and his water bottle in hand, but he didn’t drink. Logan knew Alex had gone into the Lions’ room. He knew what Kasey had announced. He wished he had been there. He wished he had known before Alex went so he could come. Kasey might not be on his team anymore, but he was still Kasey. He had wanted to stand next to Leo and hold his hand.

Six minutes left in the second. 1-1.

Logan jumped the boards right as the puck soared into the netting above the glass and the whistle went. Logan headed towards the Lions’ zone, but stopped when no one else did. He looked around.

“What’s up?” asked Will.

“I don’t know,” Logan said, frowning as Coach Arthur held up a T with his hands and Kasey started skating towards the bench. “They’re calling a time out.”

“Come on,” Finn said aloud to the dark room. “Come on.”

The more time went by, the more superstitious he seemed to get. He kept switching up his position on the couch. He’d even taken the computer into the kitchen while he finished his dinner, hoping they might have more luck if he was in a different room. He was putting his plate in the dishwasher when—

And looks like Leo Knut is taking Kasey Winter’s place in goal for the second game in a row.

Finn turned. “Le.”

Why the sudden switch, we’ll have to wait and see but one could only guess that it has something to do with Kasey Winter’s injury struggles this season. Well, recent seasons, I should say. I gotta feel for the guy, he’s one hell of a goalie.

Finn shut the dishwasher with a beep and cursed. As the final minutes of the second period wound down, he tried to picture Leo there. Wary of Logan. Trying to forget that it was Logan. Just number 71.

Tremblay with a high shot. Finn closed his eyes. —Goes wide of Knut. Kakko picks it up.

Finn listened to the third leaning against the kitchen island with his fingers against his lips. Waiting to hear Logan’s name, or Leo’s. LoganLeoLoganLeo, forced to go against each other.

Instead, it felt like all he heard was Remus’.

Lupin has had ten shots on goal alone in these last two periods. None of them have gone in mind you, but that fact is impressive and—oh that’s from Walker straight to Lupin’s tape and carrying, carrying, back to Walker, no look—and he scores! Remus Lupin with a five-hole on a beauty of a no looker from Thomas Walker! He brings it up to 2-1 Lions.

“Yeah!” Finn shouted, rising to his feet. “Fuck yes!”

He wanted to turn on the TV. He wanted to see. He wanted to watch them celebrate, he wanted to skate across the ice and hug Remus because he would have been on the line. He would have. He could have helped.

“Fucking sling,” Finn whispered, tugging at the elastic strap. Most of tea had long gone cold, and he wanted a popsicle to suck on and dull out the ache in his head a little. Or, really, he wanted to close his eyes and go to sleep but he couldn’t do that. Not before the game was through. It was only 9:30 for fuck sake. Though he did find himself wishing that it wouldn’t go to any OT periods. If he stayed standing he’d stay awake.

He paced to the window as the puck battled between zones. Logan was feisty tonight. He’d come close to blows with Kota twice it sounded like. The Rangers went up on a power play when Kota tripped Logan and Finn nearly cheered before remembering that it was the Rangers. Finn walked around the couch as the whistle blew for another Rangers icing. Whoever kept dumping was only doing the Lions a favor.

“C’mon,” Finn mumbled. “I’m tired and I miss you, c’mon.”

Logan on power play one. Logan, Alex. Back to Logan. Finn was too tense, he really wasn’t supposed to be this tense, he was supposed to be firmly relaxing. But Leo. God, Logan and Alex in front of Leo’s net, glove save against Alex, Logan’s shot going wide. Logan was pulling back, Finn could feel it. He was trying, trying, and then seeing Leo. And he was going to get so much shit for it. Finn sat down, rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He should have been praying for a win, but he was praying for this game to be over.

O’Hara to Tremblay, back to O’Hara—and he scores!

“Yeah!” Finn said then cursed. “I mean, no.” He groaned. He had to stop doing that. “Fuck.”

Alex O’Hara with a very clean tip-in off of an assist from Tremblay, Knut didn’t have a chance. 2-2 now this is a tight game and the scoring has picked up tremendously. The puck drops Jesus Christ, Lupin again! Christ almighty! Lupin again! Right off the face-off! 3-2 Lions!

“Loops!” Finn stood and laughed through the word. They were ahead now. God, the announcer was rambling, the pile up on the ice must be insane, celebrating. There was a short enough amount of time that this could be it, it could be, especially with the crowd the way it was, God, Finn could hear it, he could see it, even if he couldn’t. The pounding of hands on the glass and his teammates shouting right beside him. The way Thomas and Evgeni jumped up and down, making the bench rattle.

There was three minutes to go. They were ahead, and Logan was trying. God, Finn could feel him. The way he moved, the way he breathed. He’d spent his entire career watching him, waiting for him, tracking him even when he couldn’t see him. Catch a pass, catch a mistake. Finish a goal, pretty or dirty. Alex was trying his best but twice they’d gotten their pocket picked by Sirius and it made Finn hide a smile. No one could play with Logan as well as him.

It didn’t stop him from scoring though. Of course it didn’t.

That is one slick wrap-around by Tremblay.

Finn closed his eyes. He wanted that highlight. He wanted it bad.

Knut didn’t look like he even knew where the puck was.

Finn put his head in his hands. He could hear the celebration. “Le. Aw, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay…”

The Rangers even it up again with forty-six seconds on the clock. Oh, the Lions don’t like that. Arthur Weasley doesn’t like that, but he’s used his timeout. Gryffindor will have to figure something out.

“Come on,” Finn whispered. “Come on, boys…”

It was a blur of phrases and images playing behind his closed eyes.

God, impossible save by Knut! He’s gonna get famous for that poke-check of his, we saw it last play-offs, and look’s like we’ll be seeing more of it—

Finn wanted to be there to scoop the puck up from Leo’s waiting stick, clear of the blue paint. He wanted to feel Leo at his back, defending him, letting him risk a more risky pass.

The clock had to be dangerously low now and Finn’s head ached with how he was squeezing his eyes shut, but he couldn’t help it. He was so tired.

Knocked away by Knut, hard shot by Trouba—

“Good.” Finn whispered, thumb nail between his teeth. “Good, Le…”

What a take away by Black and he’s going—Lupin catches up with him and it’s two on one, Black and Lupin against Luke Deveaux—Black sends it over to Lupin, Lupin back to Black, and a third time—GOAL! Goal! Goal!

Finn shouted. There weren’t any words in it, but a sheer sound of relief and joy.

Lupin with the hat trick! Hat trick! With twelve seconds on the clock! Twelve seconds! Three goals all scored within—Jesus, how long?—that’s insane, that is just magnificent, insane—

Remus heard the crowd. Deep, collective—for a split second, he thought they were booing. But then he pieced it together, right as Sirius slammed into his chest and shouted right in his ear. Not boos.

Loops.

My God, Remus Lupin is on fire tonight. God, what a shot! What a shot, this place is going wild. This place is on its feet because the Lions are going to a game seven. I repeat, the Gryffindor Lions are taking the New York Rangers to a game seven—

Long, drawn out, Loops and then reorganizing into a chant, and then dissolving into cheers. Hats showered them. Completely, it felt like. Raining, pouring, drenching the ice in hats. So many Remus wondered how all of them made it to the ice. He couldn’t stop laughing. He thought maybe he was crying a little.

“Game winner!” Thomas was shouting. “Game fucking winner, fucking winner, fucking natty hatty, oh fuck, Remus!”

“Jesus, what’s in your water, Lupin!” Percy Marshall shouted from near Saint’s goal.

He just looked up at Sirius. Sirius laughed and then ducked down and kissed Remus’ cheek—or tried, but it was really just their visors knocking together. “I love you. I love you, love you, I love you so much—”

“Julian,” Remus said. “You think Jules saw?”

Sirius just pressed their visors together, while Thomas all but crowed to the sky. “Yeah, baby, Jules saw.”

Remus looked up towards the Lions box as he skated towards the bench, as he skated down the line tapping gloves. He couldn’t see much, but he would have been able to pick out that wildly jumping figure any place, any time.

Logan went looking for Cassie. He wouldn’t deny it. He smoothed his wet hair back from his face and tugged at his tie. He smiled shakily at a few members of the press who passed him on their way to the pressroom to write their stories. Post-game interviews had been rough. You guys could have had it, what will you do differently to pull through next game?

It was a fairly normal question. Definitely expected. The hard part, Logan guessed, was answering it truthfully—even to himself. Pulling through meant taking the Lions out, and Logan couldn’t think about that too hard.

But even worse: You seemed to have…bad puck luck when Knut came into goal. What do you think happened?

Logan could have punched the guy who asked that. He’d stared at him hard enough to make him take a step back anyway.

“Tremzy!”

Logan turned fast. Katie, flying towards him full-force, in Rangers blue with TREMBLAY on her back. Pascal had sent him the video—Katie bawling her eyes out and refusing to move until the removed her father’s jersey and gave her a Tremblay one.

Pascal wasn’t too far behind her and grinned as Logan caught Katie up in his arms.

“Salut, Petit. Oh, what are you wearing?” Logan propped her on his hip and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Is that all for me?”

She patted his tie. “You didn’t win. Papa won.”

“C’est une tragédie, apparently,” Pascal said. “We cannot go home until she finds you, you know.”

“Non, me neither.” Logan smiled at him and tilted his and Katie’s heads together. He switched to French. “I need my little cabbage fix before dinner…”

Katie shrieked out a laugh, knowing what was coming, and Logan dipped her upside down to kiss her cheek with nom noises before bringing her upright again.

“Didn’t you like the Lions hat trick? All the hats on the ice.”

Katie shook her head, brandishing the wrist with her charm bracelet at him like a sword. “Non. I like when you get goals.”

“Ouch,” Pascal said wryly.

Katie put a hand on top of Logan’s head. “Is Harzy okay?”

“Ouais,” Logan said. “He’s doing much better. He misses you.”

“Where’s Leo?”

“I’m going to find him right now.”

She squished Logan’s cheeks between her small palms. “Does he have banana bread?”

“Not with him, I don’t think.”

Katie frowned. “Oh.” Then, she promptly squeezed her arms around his neck and put her head on his shoulder. “I love you.”

“Aw,” Logan said. “I love you, too.”

Pascal mouthed, she’s going to fall asleep, and Logan nodded, half-sure that she already was. He put a hand on her back. She was so warm, so delicate in his arms. He used to be afraid of that, holding onto her too hard. “Past your bedtime, hm?”

They stood silently in the hallway together for a moment. Logan thought of the warm living room at the Dumais house. The boys muting their video game on the TV. Katie sleeping against his chest. Noelle passing him embroidery floss colors to pick out so she could make him a bracelet.

“I don’t think I’ll get used to seeing you in blue,” Pascal said softly, stroking back Katie’s hair, then, after a moment of hesitation, mussing Logan’s gently.

“Me neither,” Logan replied roughly. God, how many homes could one person be homesick for at once?

“No matter what happens next game,” Pascal said. “We love you. You know that, right?”

“Ouais.”

“You won’t beat yourself up.”

“Non.” He sighed. “Well, not too bad. I’m worried about Leo.” He sighed. He had to tell someone. “It’s been hard. This, Finn, Kasey…”

“Archer,” Pascal finished hesitantly.

“Logan?” said a voice.

Logan looked to see Cassie at the other end of the hallway. She gave him a small wave, looking uncertain as to whether she should approach or not.

“Ah,” Pascal said. “I thought you knew her.”

“Quoi.” He smiled back at her, held up a finger. One second.

“You looked, ah, how did Sirius put it…Freaked.”

“I’m not.”

“Here,” Pascal said, reaching out for Katie.

“Wait, wait, wait—” Logan began to say, but Pascal just arched a brow.

“You do not need to hold my daughter for every tough conversation you have.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but eased the sleepy Katie into her father’s arms.

“Go talk to a girl. That can’t be too difficult for you.”

“Dumo.”

Pascal just smiled. “Oh, and guess what?”

Logan sighed. His arms felt cold and too light without Katie in them. “What?”

“Leo is going to be okay. You three are going to be fine.”

Pascal touched Logan’s cheek briefly, then turned away, murmuring softly to Katie.

“Remus!”

Remus dropped everything he was holding—his glove, a roll of tape, a tennis ball, and his mouth guard—to turn around and get a stumble-inducing hug by his little brother.

“Did you get any of the hats!” Julian asked. “Oh my God!”

“I think they’re in a bunch of buckets somewhere,” Remus said, and held on tighter even when Jules made to pull back. “No, one more second.”

“I have to see Sirius, too!”

“He didn’t get a hat trick.” Remus squeezed Julian until he gasped for air.

“Death by hug,” Julian coughed out, but he squeezed Remus just as tightly back. “It was so cool, Re.”

“Thanks. It felt pretty cool.” He put his hands on Julian’s shoulders and pulled back. “I can get you a hat if you want a hat. Can’t promise to know whose head it was on, though.”

Julian laughed. “I don’t need a hat.” Remus still sort of wanted to get him a hat. He wanted to get Julian anything he could ever possibly want.

Julian shook Remus lightly by his shoulder pads. “Game seven! Did you always think you were going to go to a game seven!”

Remus shrugged, patting his stall for Julian to sit in. “I don’t know if Captain Superstitious over here would have allowed such a thought to cross my mind.”

“Wow,” Sirius said, stripping off his chest pads and grabbing his towel for a shower. “You make me sound insane.”

Julian and Remus shared a look.

“You might be a little.” Julian pinched his fingers. “Tiny bit insane.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but tussled Julian’s hair before walking away.

“Hey.” Remus nudged his his foot against Julian’s shin. “You okay here for a second if I shower so we can all get some ice cream before it’s after midnight?”

Julian’s eyes lit up—either at the mention of ice cream or at the prospect of being left to his own devices in the locker room.

“Oh, I’ve got him,” Thomas said. He was wearing his suit pants and shrugging on a white button down. “Noelle chose to go see the Rangers so I, too, am abandoned.”

“Oh my God,” Jackson said from beside him. “She said she’d be back in two minutes after seeing her loser brother.”

“Watch it,” Leo called, passing by.

“Two whole minutes.” Thomas tisked. “Nado, I don’t know what to do with myself without that girl around anymore. Copy?”

“Good luck,” Remus said to Julian, and stripped off his own padding to head to the showers.

James was singing—horribly—but Sirius had secured them the two corner showers. Remus’ favorite. The hot water felt good, but Sirius’ gaze on him felt better. Remus smiled as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to wash his hair.

“I can feel you thinking,” Remus said.

“If we were alone, you could feel—”

“Oh I’m sure.”

“Well, I was thinking about taking you into another private corner but your little brother was looking at me.”

Remus reached for the shampoo. “This is true.” He looked over his shoulder. “I don’t see him anywhere now.”

Sirius sent a pointed look at James and the few other of their teammates showering around them.

“What?” Remus said with a grin. “I just want a kiss.”

Sirius watched him for a moment, and Remus let himself admire the way the water made his dark hair and eyelashes ever darker. The way the droplets made his tan skin shine. Finally, Sirius went so far as to settle a hand on Remus’ bare, wet hip, and kissed his cheek.

“I love you,” Sirius whispered against Remus’ skin.

“I love you, too.”

“The noodles!” Evgeni shouted, ducking beneath a shower head across the room.

“He means canoodle,” Jackson said.

Sirius ignored them. “I want to re-watch that game.”

“Is that all?”

“No. It’ll never be all with you. I’ll always want you more.” Another soft kiss to his temple. “And more, and more.”

“You fucker,” Alex said into his phone, wedged between his shoulder and ear as he tied his dress shoes.

“Ha-ha,” Finn replied. “It was all me.”

“Oh, we’ll get your boys next game.” Alex said.

“Will you now?” Finn said. “You sure about that?”

“Pretty damn sure, I’d say. Lupin can’t be that hot every night.”

“Ha, but Sirius Black can.”

“Bleh.” Alex straighten with a sigh. “I hate how true that is.”

“Hey, Al?”

Alex took his phone, switching ears. “Yup?”

There was a bit of a pause, long enough that Alex looked at the screen to make sure that Finn was still there. It made him nearly miss his first couple words.

“If you can,” Finn’s voice said. “Try not to let Lo take any winning shots against Leo.”

Alex’s smile dimmed. His eyes moved over to Kasey, who was leaning against the wall through the locker room doorway with Natalie, waiting for him. She said something with a smile and he nodded in his soft way, playing with the diamond ring on her finger.

“It’ll hurt them both, I think,” Finn finished softly. “Maybe ask Deveaux, too. If you can.”

“I don’t know if I can help that, Finn,” Alex said.

“I know.” Finn’s sigh crackled like wind. “I know. Yeah, I know.”

“Hey,” Alex said. “But I love you, little Fish.”

There was a beat of silence. “All right, I’ll let that slide just this once.”

Alex smiled.

“Love you, too.”

“Hi,” Cassie said.

Logan’s words got stuck for a second.

She had taken her suit jacket off and her white shirt underneath was crisp and clean. Logan remembered her in low tank-tops and knee-high boots. His Harvard sweatshirts and tiny cotton shorts, stretching in his bed and going to his window to check if it was raining. Yes, he had loved Finn for most of their time together, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t appreciated Cassie. She was kind and fun and, God, had she ever taught him what he liked. She had been a little wild like that. He had a flash of a steamed up car window, her uneven breathing against his cheek, her hand fisting the hair at the back of his neck.

“I…hi.”

She smiled, then shrugged and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hi.”

He laughed. “Hi.” She felt the same and he automatically squeezed her waist like he used to. “I—sorry about—I mean on the bench.” They pulled apart. “I was—I wasn’t expecting—”

“No, that’s so on me, I didn’t give you, like, any warning. This is kind of a new promotion for me. I mean, not kind of.” She rolled her eyes, laughing. “It is.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

“Well—wow, I have to tell Finn.”

“Oh, Finn. I always adored him.”

“He’s good. Uh and, oh, Will and Percy are here, did you…”

“Saw them on the bench, but haven’t gotten to say hi yet.” She tilted her head, teasing. “Didn’t think I was just waiting for you, did you?”

Logan laughed. “Uh, non, definitely not.”

“But it is really good to see you. Really, really good. Seriously, though, is Finn doing okay? That was really hard footage to watch.”

Try being there. “Yeah. He’s—he’s better. He’s getting better. He might be at the next game in New York, if he gets cleared. Not dressed, but, still. Not having to sit in the dark.”

“Right.” Cassie nodded sympathetically. “God, that happened to him in college, didn’t it?”

Twice. Logan nodded. He didn’t expect her to remember. They’d been broken up by the second.

“Well, then I hope I get to say hi.”

Logan wasn’t sure how to talk about Finn with Cassie. She’d broken up with him over Finn, even though she hadn’t known it was Finn at the time. She’d thought it was another girl, just someone else taking up Logan’s attention. By the conflicted look on her face, it looked like she knew now.

“Um.” Cassie tucked her hair behind her ears then crossed her arms. “Listen. This is probably not the time and definitely not the place but I’m not sure—I kind of just have to say this if you don’t mind.” She glanced down the hallway, but they were alone. “I think I was kind of…I know I was hard on you when we broke up…”

Logan shook his head. He swallowed, trying to force the words out quickly. “Non. Non, I don’t think you were hard on me. If anyone was hard on someone, it was me on you. I mean…now you know that…that Finn and I?”

“Were you together then?” she asked, then her eyes widened. “God. No. Jesus, you don’t have to tell me that. That was so rude, wow. I’m sorry.” She laughed a little. “We don’t see each other for years and—”

“We weren’t,” Logan said, but then it was his turn to laugh a bit. “Well—Merde. I mean. We were… We loved each other then. But we…” How to even say it? “We thought we couldn’t.” No, that wasn’t it. “I thought we couldn’t.”

“You seriously don’t owe me an explanation,” Cassie said. “Logan, I was trying to apologize. The second I heard about you and Finn—I mean, I think I just saw a photo of you two on Twitter or something, or Instagram?—but I remembered our fight like it was yesterday and…”

“You thought I was cheating on you. And in a lot of ways you were right. You had ever right to be mad at me.”

“I…I know that now. But I loved you, and I shouldn’t have said all those horrible things.” She let out a breath. “I didn’t mean them. It’s just that I really, really loved you.”

Logan wouldn’t have said any of his heart still belonged to Cassie, but right then it felt like part of it might, in some way. It broke all over again for the two of them. For the quiet mornings and for looking up into the bleachers at games and seeing her there, wearing his sweater. For all the times she’d gone quiet and let him think about what he wanted to say, when she was always so bright and sudden for everyone else.

“Anyway,” she sighed. “I just didn’t know when I would see you again and, you know, knock on wood you’ll be too busy celebrating next game, and I wanted to say that I’m sorry. And that I’m happy for you. You and Finn.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Logan said. “I didn’t deserve you. I was trying to figure me out and…and I feel like I used you but, for the record, I did love you, too. Maybe not like you loved me, but.”

Cassie smiled. “Yeah?”

Logan smiled back. “Ouais.”

“Oh.” Cassie shook her head fondly. “God, I missed your French.”

Logan was laughing when he heard Leo’s voice from behind him.

“Lo?”

Logan turned and found him standing there, handsome in his navy suit. He looked between them hesitantly.

“Le,” Logan held out a hand to him. “Soleil, this is Cassie. Cas, this is my boyfriend, Leo.”

Cassie smiled, then looked alarmed, then smiled again. “Uh. Wait. Um. I mean, hi.”

“There’s two of them,” Logan said and took Leo’s hand. “Finn. Leo.”

“Two?”

“Two.”

Cassie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged. “Jesus, I can’t even find one. You were so great in the third, Leo, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh,” Leo said, a little dazed. Logan tried not to watch too closely as Leo looked Cassie up and down. “Well, thanks, pleasure to meet you. How do you two…”

Logan squeezed Leo’s fingers. “Cas and I were at school together—we…well, we…”

“Dated,” Cassie finished for him with a grin. “For a little while. But then again, I never got called the sun by this one so who’s counting it really.”

Leo looked down at Logan and Logan was so proud of the happy look in those blue eyes he could have kissed him. “No?”

“Nope,” Cassie said. “But I can see why you do.”

“Casss-ieee,” came Percy’s voice from behind them, and then the thump of him running down the hall. He didn’t even hesitate, not even when it had been years, before scooping her up in a hug. She shrieked, but let him spin her once and press a kiss to her cheek.

“Oh my God, will you not ever grow up Percy Marshall?”

Percy just grinned at her. His suit was wrinkled, as usual, and he towered over her, but he looked down at her smile like he was looking up to the blue sky. “Not a chance, Cassie Baker. Not with you to impress.”

“It’s been too long since I’ve been subjected to your flirting.”

“Well.” Percy released her and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Who knows. Maybe I really mean it this time.”

Logan felt Leo nudged him, hip against hip, and Logan leaned his head against his shoulder.

“Home?” Leo whispered.

“Ouais.”

Logan thwacked Percy upside the head as they passed by. “See you next game, Cas?”

“Count on it,” Cassie called, and when she wasn’t looking, Percy mouthed Cassie fucking Baker to him over her shoulder with a lovesick expression on his face.

“So, you dated her,” Leo said. He was trying very hard not to smile.

“Oasis,” Logan said. “But…” He reached up as they walked and traced a blond wave of Leo’s hair, then the gray streak. “I was obviously looking for you.”

“You know Hannah looks just like you, right?”

“What? Non.”

Leo laughed. “Logan Tremblay. Look alive, hot stuff—oh.” Leo’s phone pinged. “Gee, wonder who that could be.”

Please come home I talking to myself (sent with Siri)

Also the doctor is emailed I clear for traveled with to you so New York! Sirius send happy emoji no smile emoji no send smile (sent with Siri)

Leo snorted, Logan let out a loud laugh, then they had to take a minute, leaning against each other with silent laughter.

“What’s wrong with you two?” Remus asked as he passed by with Sirius and Julian.

“Sirius,” Logan gasped. “Send smile emoji.”

Leo crouched, hiding his face against Logan’s hip as his shoulders shook.

Sirius just shook his head and tugged on Remus’ hand. “You need to go home.”

“Send smile emoji!” Logan shouted after him.

Sirius just looked back at him. “What the fuck, Tremz.”

“I’ve got him,” Leo laughed, wrapping an arm around Logan’s shoulder. “C’mon, Harz is talking to himself, we better go save him.”

“He always talks to himself.”

“I don’t think he knows that.”

Leo just hummed in agreement. “She seemed nice.”

“She is,” Logan said.

“This is the girl you mean when you say college girlfriend, right?”

“Mhm,” Logan nodded, and took Leo’s hand again as they walked into the stairwell that led to the parking lot. It smelled like summer. Heat and humidity. Leo stripped off his suit jacket to drive and threw it in the back seat with their bags.

When they were turning the engine on, Logan put a hand over Leo’s. “Le.”

Leo looked up from adjusting his mirrors.

Logan took a breath. He wasn’t sure he actually wanted to talk it all through, but maybe it would get easier. Maybe. And he at least had the short drive home to start. “Want me to tell you about it?” Logan asked softly. “Cassie.”

Leo’s lips parted, surprised. His hair was darker, the ends starting to dry from his own shower. He had taken his tie off, too, and his shirt was open at the neck. Logan reached out and touched the indent of the fleur-de-lis necklace beneath his shirt. It had been passed back and forth between them— Finn had been wearing it for a few days there when he was mostly just sleeping and in pain, but Logan supposed at some point, Finn had slipped it over Leo’s neck again.

“Yeah,” Leo said softly. “I’d like that.”

Logan leaned back in his seat as Leo pulled out of their spot. “I met her my very first night as a Freshman. I didn’t know what I was doing, I didn’t even have bed sheets. I had met Fish, là, twenty minutes maybe before. I scared the hell out of him in our room. But you know that, anyway, Cassie saved me from sitting by myself all night…”

#vaincre lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #sports au #wolfstar au #o'knutzy #lumosinlove #finn o'hara #Logan tremblay #sirius black #Leo knut #remus lupin #go lions go

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 5 months

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10 Jikook Fanfictions Part 1

I said I'd make a list before the end of the year and I kept my promise. Now, it's difficult to choose, especially when I have more than 300 bookmarks and unfortunately I also started doing that some year and a half ago. Safe to say, there's probably plenty of good fics I read that are now lost. Anyway, enough with the boring chit chat, here's 10 random jikook fics in no particular order and most likely, several other parts will follow, probably next year 😉

1. Dead in the Water

It's been a couple of years since I read this and honestly, I barely remember much, but what I do know it's that it had an impact on me. Usually fics that have death as a central theme end up resonating with me, but perhaps it's because I've always been attracted to more darker fiction. This one is gritty and there's a lot of pain and I must have cried a lot (those tend to stick in my head)

2. we're holding hands beneath the silver screen

I think this story is taking place in the 90s (you'll see that a lot of the fics I recommend are taking place in the past). I think I ended up reading everything ChimneyCricket wrote, but this one remained a favorite. Coming of age during a summer in Jeju in the 90s. Apart from the theme, it's the writing that made me stick with it.

I'm not the biggest fan of young adult stories. Or better yet, it's not something that I'd go to as a preference. When I do, it's more of an indulgence and thankfully, I found some writers (like this one) who can do a really good job with the genre.

3. Stockwell

Another writer that I've become a big fan of after reading one fic of theirs. And I think it might have been Stockwell that did it for me. I like that it's fanfiction with adult themes for an adult audience. And I also resonate with a lot of the cultural references and themes. I will also admit that this fic leaning into the enemies to lovers trope was a selling point because I'm a sucker for it. I can't help myself.

4. Burn for You

This is a complete self indulgence for me and I embrace it. Just like watching Bridgerton is a guilty pleasure for which I don't actually feel guilty (and the inspo for this fic). This story has everything and I must say the combination of lust, fear of revealing feelings, rumors, proper behavior and hidden romance is a lethal combination!

5. Light of a century

I might have recommended this story before, but it being inspired by Up on Poppy Hill is not just due to the plot, but the writing is able to evoke that studio Ghibli mood. This fic is to be read on a hot weekend afternoon.

6. Map of the Soul

This might be one of the most complex fanfictions I read due to the amount of research needed, but also in the depiction of political contexts and identity politics. Most of all, I like it because as much as relationships are a vital part of the story, there is an entire world surrounding the main characters. Events and other people that have also room to develop and not just remain props that advance the story.

7. Proceed with Caution

I don't know what snatchim did with this fic, but it's the only one I ever reread multiple times and I'll probably do it again in the future. I don't even reread books from my library, let alone fanfics. But Proceed with Caution did it for me. Perhaps it's because of the process of Jungkook inevitably falling for Jimin and even though it's a bad thing considering the context, it's so good. Maybe it's the image of Jimin with a bellybutton ring or maybe because the picture of hot Californian days in the 70s is so vivid, it feels like a nostalgic Paul Thomas Anderson movie.

8. Dishwater World They Said Was Lemonade

The description does not do this story justice because it's so much more than that. It's a canon compliant thriller with really complicated and complex characters and once again, a story meant for adults who understand that it's fiction. Unfortunately, judging by the comment section, a lot of people cannot distinguish betweem real people and characters. For those of you who might be fans of Korean thrillers, this story might be the one for you. It's also one of my favorite jikook fics as well.

9. souvlaki

Need I say more, considering the description? This is a self indulgence as well, but of a different kind. If I happily read tropey fics, I also like the ones that can sound like a uni course. Set during the 1997 FMI crisis in SK, any reader will get familiar with a socioeconomic and political perspective of that time through the eyes of the main characters. If you're only looking for romance, this one is not for you.

10. you wouldn't remember

I think littleflumes might be currently my favorite writer of canon compliant jikook. I think the author really captured their dynamic in its essence and the room left for fiction perfectly fills in the holes left in the last 2 years and up until the present. But what did it for me, not only with this story, but the others in the series as well, is that it's concentrated almost entirely on the two main characters, almost living in a bubble of their own in which their relationship can be explored.

#m thoughts #jikook #jikook fanfic #jikook fanfiction #jikook au #jikook canon compliant #fic rec #bts fanfic

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intimacyequalsdeath · 6 months

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Bubz's 12 Days of Ficmas: Day 3 Snow (Thomas Hewitt)

Day 3 of Ficmas coming right up!

Notes: Minors DNI, Fluffy, SFW, No specific pronouns or descriptions of reader used.

"It snows in Texas sugar, just not here". Is what Luda Mae told you when you first came to permanently live with the Hewitt's and you felt comfortable enough to pick her brain.

Once a lost college student like many others that happen upon the family, though saved by the fact that you and Thomas had grown rather attached to each other and Luda was just thrilled her baby finally had a chance to have a family.

"Thomas? can you believe it doesn't snow here?"

You had asked him one day from your spot perched onto an old work bench in the basement, while he butchered meat. He shot you a unimpressed look that spoke volumes of "Oh really, you don't say?"

"Oh well I guess you've lived here your entire life huh?"

You said, realizing your mistake. He nodded and gave a huffed laugh which caused you to also smile.

"Thomas stop! Don't laugh at me"

You defended reaching over to playfully swat at him. While laughing yourself. As someone who had grown up in a northern area where every winter was coated with fluffy white flakes, the idea of no snow at all was so foreign.

The lack of snow stuck with you until the day finally came when you stepped out of the old family house and could feel the familiar nip in the air. Luda had said that of course like most places it does get cold just usually no snow.

================================================

A hand on your shoulder shook you out of your sleep.

"Tommy stop"

You groaned without opening your eyes to look at your husband. He shook you slightly harder.

"ugh what Tommy? what time is it even?"

You asked cracking your eyes open to meet Thomas's brown orbs. Thomas gave you a grunt and pointed to the singular window in your shared bedroom. You looked at him confused.

"What is it Tommy?"

He shook his head and pointed to the window once again. This time with a commanding air about him. You rolled your eyes playfully but got out of bed never the less.

Your just haven awoken legs were shaky, so Tommy gave you a hand over to the window. You blinked the grogginess out of yours eyes and squinted to peer out of it.

You gasped when you noticed it, soft white flakes, falling out of the sky.

"Tommy" You exclaimed "It's snowing!"

Thomas made a happy noise from his spot beside you. Seeing you happy always made Tommy happy.

You should've known to be honest. The radio had talked all week about a monumental snow storm threatening to hit Texas. Even Hoyt and Mama had wanted to be prepared for it. The entire family had been prepping all week for the possible unprecedented storm.

"C'mon Tommy let's go outside!"

Thomas gave you a bewildered look, you laughed at him.

"What? you expected that you'd wake me up and I wouldn't wanna go outside?'

You both pulled on some semi warm clothes, winter clothes aren't really a thing, before slowly opening the door to your bedroom. You sneak down the hall and stairs being careful not to wake up the rest of the family as you make your way out the front door.

The only light outside is the soft glow from the kitchen light that Luda leaves on incase anyone needs to come downstairs to help them see their way around.

You walk to nearly the middle of the giant yard and gaze up into the sky, watching all the snow fall silently around you in the crisp night air.

"Tommy it's beautiful"

It was nearly a whisper, you didn't even think Tommy had heard you until you felt a presence behind you. You turned around and came face to face with Thomas.

"Hi Tommy"

He placed his giant hands onto your hips and held you in front of him as he got a good look at you. Snow flakes had begun to stick in your hair as you gazed up at the giant of a man through your eye lashes.

Thomas regularly would remember back to his childhood, when he would run home crying because of the kids who had picked on him and called him a freak over something he couldn't control.

Luda would tell him not to listen to their words and one day he wouldn't have to deal with them. She would say how one day he would find someone who would love him despite how he looked. Thomas never really believed his mother when she would tell him that, the only people he had ever interacted with had treated him cruel. Even Hoyt and Monty would have their moments.

If someone would have told Thomas back then that he would be standing in his front yard, while it was snowing with a person like you gazing up at him as if he was the best thing in the world. He would have probably thought they were the craziest person he'd ever met but despite all the odds here he was.

You laid your head on his broad chest. He brought a hand up from your hip to your head and carted his fingers through your hair.

There, in the cold winter air of Texas. You and Tommy had only two things on your minds.

Each other and the fresh fallen snow that symbolized more then just the cold.

#slasher x reader #slasher fandom #Ficmas #12 days of ficmas #texas chainsaw massacre #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #texas chainsaw 3d

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scorpiussage · 1 year

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Tommy Shelby + Age Gap

Pairing: Tommy Shelby/ Reader

Warnings: smut

For @peakyltd

He’s known you since you were little; you were always running about with Ada and your home life was worse than theirs so you spent an inordinate amount of time living in their house.

When he left for the war, you were still a child — skipping classes and causing mischief with his sister. When he get’s back, though, it’s to his own surprise that you grew up in the time he was away. You’re still young, barely 19, but those years changed you in so many noticeable ways.

It’s the day after he got back and he stumbles down the stairs of his home to find you sitting at their kitchen table, probably waiting for Ada to come down. He pauses at the bottom of the steps, almost not recognizing you but when you turn to look at him, your appearance hits him like a punch in the gut. God, you’re beautiful.

“Ah, y/n,” he rumbles after clearing his throat, “It’s been a while.”

You nod, your own eyes tracking over his form curiously as you take in his more chiseled features that years in a trench carved out.

You get up and carefully pull him into an awkward hug, “I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

Tommy, feeling like a deviant, uses the hug as an opportunity to smell your hair. It gives him a strong sense of calm to take in your unique clean, sweet scent. He feels at peace for the first time in years.

He reluctantly pulls away from your arms and sets a firm hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “I’m fine. We’re all fine.”

Ada chooses that moment to come clomping down the stairs and Tommy quickly pulls away, turning tail and heading for the door without saying anything else.

…

After seeing you in the kitchen the other day, Tommy can’t seem to shake the thought of you. You absolutely consume his thoughts and even worse he sees you everywhere. The only place safe from your presence is his bedroom and only just, because he can hear you and Ada giggling away to each other through the thin walls. He feels like he’s going mad.

It all comes to a head one evening when you show up at dinner, presumably to spend time with Ada but she’s already left. Tommy tells you this and watches the way your cheeks flush prettily under his intense attention.

“Oh,” you say with a huff. Actually, now that he mentions it, you think you remember Ada saying she was going out with a boy and to not tell her brothers. You quickly try to wrack your brain for a decent excuse to give to Tommy while he slowly moves to where you’re standing.

“Silly me, she said we were going to meet at the dance hall,” You stutter as Tommy stands terribly close to you, the scent of his cologne making your thoughts fuzzy, “I should head out.”

Before you can turn fully, Tommy grasps your wrist in his big, calloused hand; his thumb reaching out to rub gently along your pulse point. That little touch is enough to make you weak in the knees. You’ve always fancied Thomas— he was the dashingly handsome older brother of your best friend. That was when you were a child, though, and you never really thought he’d ever see you as anything but.

“Tommy?” You question hesitantly, your eyes searching his. He doesn’t reply, instead his other hand reaches up to run along your cheek before he guides you forward into a sweet, testing-the-waters kiss. It’s a soft peck at first but you respond readily, your own lips chasing after his when he starts to pull away.

His arms slip to wrap around your waist and back, pulling you tightly into his chest as he ravishes your mouth. He tastes like tobacco and whiskey and you mewl whenever he nips playfully at your bottom lip. You feel like you could drown like this, in his tender mercies, and you wouldn’t care in the slightest. When he finally pulls away, you’re both gasping, your breaths mingling and your eyes hooded.

He reaches up and pushes your coat off your shoulders, and you barely register it pooling around your feet as he grasps your hand once more and begins tugging you towards the stairs. Feeling like you’re in a haze or a dream, you follow after him your eyes never leaving his. Every few steps he pushes you against the railing or the wall and kisses you until you’re practically shaking with a desire you’ve never known before.

He pulls you down the hallway and into his room, a sacred space you’ve never dared enter before, not even when he was away at war. It’s the largest bedroom in the house and scarcely decorated but there are a few personal touches here or there that paint an intimate picture of what kind of man Tommy is. Photographs are lined neatly up on his dresser with loving care and across the room you spot a small bookcase with worn books and a little tin horse figurine. He lets you inspect his space while he divests himself of his jacket and waistcoat, leaving him in a partially unbuttoned shirt and suspenders hanging loose around his hips.

His gaze is almost hungry as he makes his way to you; his gait like a lion stalking a rabbit. He’s quick as one, as when he reaches you and before you can say anything, he’s hefting you up into his arms and pushing you down onto the creaky bed. You manage to breathe out his name before he kisses you again, this time far more heatedly and desperate than when you kissed in the kitchen.

“‘Tell me to stop and I will,” he whispers into your ear as he pushes your dress up. Nothing could get you to stop now, you think, you would die to keep what’s happening going. You try to keep up with him, your shaking fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. He helps you along, practically ripping the shirt off of himself and the following undershirt. You’re likely staring in a most uncomfortable way but he’s so damn handsome. He’s all lean, corded muscle from his time in the war and is even decorated with a few tattoos that you trace curiously with the tips of your fingers.

As if he’s reading your mind, he smirks in that infuriating way of his and presses your hand more firmly to his chest, guiding it down to run over his abs and to the hem of his trousers. This is where you clam up. You tug your hand away and flush in what you’re sure is a terribly unattractive color and admit, “I’ve never done this before.”

It’s embarrassing to still be a virgin, you think, especially when compared to someone like Tommy who’s experience precedes him.

He kisses you again, this time not as hurried and tells you with such open honesty, “I’ll take care of you.”

His hands trace around to your back and he finds the ribbon holding your brazier with perfect accuracy. With a single, sharp tug, you’re breasts are barred to him.

He tries to be gentle as he runs his hands up along your sides, his fingers dancing out to graze over your breasts. You let out a soft gasp as he fully cups them both and rubs his thumbs over your peaked nipples. His gaze is reverent as he looks over you and he rumbles out a hushed, “God, you’re perfect.”

You have to fight the urge to cover your face in embarrassment, struggling to accept the compliment especially knowing how beautiful some of his past girlfriends have been.

“Don’t believe me, eh?” He asks, taking in your furrowed brow and red cheeks.

He leans down at begins placing nipping kisses along your collarbones, worshipful words leaving his mouth every so often, “Ever since I saw you that morning after I got back, you’re all I can see. All I can hear. You’ve ruined me, Y/N, absolutely ruined me.”

His kisses trail down to your breasts, his lips sucking in the first nipple he finds and laving at it like a starving man. When he pops off of it, he blows a teasing breath over the peaked nub and watches the way you squirm with rapt attention.

He slides his hands further south and carefully tugs your knickers down, leaving you fully bare before him. When you try to close your legs to hide yourself, he doesn’t let you, his firm hands holding your thighs apart with unerring strength.

“Don’t you ever hide from me, eh?” He orders you sternly, but his eyes never once leave the sight of your dripping core and he licks his lips as if he’s suddenly salivating. Without warning, he surges down and begins licking along your slit with avid enthusiasm, his tongue expertly drawing teasing swirls to your clit before dipping down to lick at your opening.

You let out a squeal and reach down to grasp at the longer hair on top of his head, unsure if you should push him away or tug him closer.

His chuckles vibrate through your core in the most confusingly pleasurable way and he looks up at you, “I want to be surrounded by you, by your smell and taste.”

With those seductive words said, he dives back down to continue licking you. He’s relentless in his exploration, his tongue leaving no place untouched.

Meanwhile, you’re sprawled out across his bed, your fingers yanking at his hair and your back arching lewdly. You’re building towards something you’re not sure of that has you feeling like a bow string pulled too taut. Tommy seems to know this and is apparently eager to encourage it.

One of his thick fingers trails up through the mess of your cunt and starts pressing into you. That’s what makes you come undone, and the most fantastical feeling washes over your entire body, making you cry out Tommy’s name in pleasure.

He works you through the experience, his ministrations gentling until you’ve gone lax in satisfaction. He sits up and looks down at you, his lips stretched in the first smile you’ve seen him give since he returned. Placing both hands on either side of your head, he hovers over you and tells you, “You’ll only get that from me, understand?”

You nod sleepily as all the adrenaline causes you to crash. You see that his trousers are tented and you ask, “Do you want me to-?”

He shakes his head. Standing up he shucks the pants off before crawling back into bed with you, drawing up the quilt to cover you both.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you when I got back,” he says to you, his fingers tracing up and down your bare arm. He leans forward and gives you a sweet, slow kiss that has you tasting yourself briefly before he pulls away and turns the light out.

He holds you throughout the night and is the first thing you see when you wake up; those blue eyes of his peering into your very soul. You’re his.

…

For more bingo prompts click here!

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fic #baddie bingo

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sister-lucifer · 1 year

Note

Hiya, hope you're having a pog day <3

I wanted to make a request if possible (also if you're comfortable with it, if not, feel free to ignore this ask!! no worries)

nsfw headcanons for Hoodie and Masky with a trans masc s/o (with top surgery scars)

Masky + Hoodie w/ a trans masc partner who has top surgery scars

Masky + Hoodie x Reader (separately)

Genre: Fluff + NSFW, headcanons

Content/warnings: There’s a lot of talk of reader’s body but it’s all positive, Tim is insecure about his scars, chest + tummy kisses, tooth rotting fluff AND some soft romantic NSFW 😌

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Sorry if you wanted like…hardcore nasty NSFW, this is really sweet 😔

Tim Wright/Masky

Although I don’t personally headcanon Tim as trans (though i definitely enjoy trans tim content 👌😋), he certainly has his fair share of scars

They’re mostly on his arms and hands

Some are from fights, others are from miscellaneous accidents, some have been there as long as he can remember and he’s not even sure where they came from

But theres one thing he knows for sure:

He HATES when people point them out

He can’t really explain it, he just hates having attention drawn to them

You may not feel the same way, but even if you say you don’t mind he’ll be careful not to point them out

That’s not to say you won’t catch him staring when he thinks you’re not looking, though

The scars just look so…natural, on you

Like they’ve always been there

He forgets that they’re scars, really

He’s not sure why he feels so different about scars on you than he does on him

The longer he’s with you the less he notices your scars anymore

And the less he notices his own too

Over time he becomes less insecure about them as he watches you not only live with but accept and maybe even embrace your scars

And there’s something he loves about being able to run his hand down your bare chest, the marks on his hand matching with your scars

Especially when he finds you in bed with him, climbing on top of him and straddling his lap

He cant stop himself from reaching out and pulling your shirt off, his large hands splaying out over your torso as he admires you, feeling your heartbeat thump behind your ribs

If your position allows him to see your chest, don’t be surprised if he can’t pull his eyes away

He’s not very talkative during sex, but he’s always sure to remind you how handsome you are

He knows sex can sometimes trigger dysphoria, and he doesn’t want you to forget that you’re his sweet boy, forever and always

You can thank him for the praise by taking one of his scarred hands and pressing a soft kiss to it, a silent reassurance that his feelings about you are not unrequited

Brian Thomas/Hoodie

Brian, on the other hand, is very vocal about how attractive he finds your scars

Although he’s got a few of his own, they’re generally not very noticeable

And even if someone did point them out, he’d simply laugh them off

So he feels comfortable telling you how much he loves your scars

They’re a reminder of how strong you are, he says

It’s not easy embracing your true trans self in this world, and you should wear your scars with pride

He’s got an artistic streak, so don’t be surprised if he asks to draw on them

He may even suggest getting a cool tattoo to emphasize them!

Like barbed wire or a flower chain or something

But if you don’t want that, he’s perfectly content simply being allowed to run his fingers over your scars

He’ll often absentmindedly begin tracing them whenever you’re laying together, sometimes not even realizing he’s doing it

He loves to kiss your chest too

He’s a romantic type, what can I say 🤷

He just loves to give your scars all the gentle attention they deserve, he can’t help it

Don’t be surprised if his hands find your scars as if they have a mind of their own, always wandering to your chest whenever you’re standing at the counter or sitting on the couch with him

And don’t be surprised if those wandering hands lead to more than just gentle touches

If you allow him his way during sex, he’ll always insist on having you on your back

He’ll pay extra attention to your chest, and i don’t just mean your scars (although they certainly aren’t ignored)

He’s much more vocal than Tim, a constant stream of praises and reassurances spilling from his mouth and he drones on and on about how handsome you are and how lucky he is to have such a beautiful boy like you to take care of

You’re an absolute beauty to him, and he’s going to make sure he tells you every chance he gets

Brian Thomas: The Dysphoria Miracle Cure

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pathetichimbos · 7 months

Text

First Meeting - Part Six

((part five here))

Thomas Hewitt/GN!Reader

tagslist: @goodiesinthecloset21 @shykoolade @strawb3rry-gal @ktssstuff @theclownbaby0 @leah-halliwell92 @lost-in-the-fiction-like-ur-mom @aleracrovn @dreamybxnny @dij-ology @todorokitantrum

---

You've run away from home, hitchhiking around Texas as you come up with your next plan, only to find that life has plans of its own when a simple ride with a group of friends lands you at a lone gas station in Travis County, drawn to a mysterious man most seem to avoid.

---

There isn't much left to do, considering you got most of the prep done earlier in the day, so the only real thing left to do is cook the meat and make the broth.

She takes the lead, putting the meat on to cook and having you grind it down and stir it as she adds several seasonings and the onions to the much too large pot.

It's obvious she's comfortable in the kitchen, confident in her choices with no second guesses, each ingredient she adds done with a precision and assuredness that tells you she's spent most of her life in the kitchen.

She cooks the meat down to a simmer before she begins to add in the broth, carefully working the stew together as you lean on the counter next to the big bowl of vegetables you previously cut.

"...Where'd you learn this recipe?" You ask, watching her work and waiting for your next task to be given.

"My grandmama taught me long time ago, when I was much younger than you." She explains, stirring the broth as she gestures for the bowl of vegetables, "She taught me most of everythin' I know."

You hand her the bowl, "Sounds like a nice lady."

"She was." Luda Mae sighs, adding the vegetables into the pot, "Grab me the cornstartch from that cabinet there."

You go to the cabinet she points to and grab the cornstarch, handing it to her. She drops some in a bowl, adding a bit of water to it, mixing it until it's thick.

"...My Mama never taught me much of anything." You confess, though you're not entirely sure why, "I never knew my grandmama either..."

"My Mama didn't teach me nothin' either." Luda Mae shakes her head, adding a bit of the slurry to the pot, "Didn't care much to."

"I'm guessing she wasn't as nice as your grandmama?"

"She was meaner than a junkyard dog, ran off one day when I was a teenager and I never saw her again. My grandmama always told me she drowned, but I was never too sure if that was literal or not."

"What do you mean?"

Luda Mae sighs again, stirring the large pot, "I can't remember a time she loved her children more than her liqour. She was sooner to have a bottle of whiskey in hand than touch a bottle of milk."

You cross your arms, eyes focused on the pot, "...I can understand what that's like."

You don't say much else after that, idly standing by and helping when she needed it, watching her work and making small comments every now and again.

It doesn't take long for the sound of a car pulling in the driveway to drive you upstairs, back in the solitude of the barren bedroom.

You can hear Hoyt come in hollering for help with carrying the groceries in, the previously quiet house now filled with noise and life.

You sit on the floor again, sighing in relief at the feeling of clean clothes on clean skin, your hair still damp from your shower earlier.

There wasn't a feeling quite like it, and you forgot how amazing it was after going almost two months with one or two half washes in lakes and creeks.

You stand up after a moment, brushing off your legs and shorts, before pulling the covers back on the bed. You cringe, seeing the dirt and grime you left the previous night, not wanting to sleep in it now that you were finally clean. You look around for a moment, spotting the extra blanket Thomas had left on the dresser.

You pull the blanket off completely now, tossing it to the bedroom door, letting it pile against the floor. You grab the fresh blanket, hesitating when you see how dirty the sheets still were.

You hang the blanket on the bedframe, deciding to search the closet to see if Thomas had any extra sheets in his closet.

It wasn't a big closet by any means, with a few clean, never before stained clothes hanging up. You spot the clean, light blue sheets on the top shelf, just barely out of reach.

You stand on your toes, reaching as high as you can, grabbing the edge and pulling. The sheets come tumbling down, knocking against the clothes as you barely catch them.

You hesitate, wondering if you made too much noise, but quickly realize Hoyt was being much too loud below you to notice any noise you made.

You shut the closet door, setting the now messily folded sheets on the dresser before pulling the old ones off the bed. You set them beside the bedroom door with the blanket, opting just to flip your pillowcase inside out since you didn't find any of those.

You spend way too long trying to make the bed, each corner of the fitted sheet fighting against you as you try not to let the bedframe bang against any of the walls.

You drop on the bed when you finish, groaning into the pillow out of pure frustration. Sure, being homeless you could handle, but making a bed? That was apparently out of your skill set.

After a few moments of self pity, you shut off the main light in favor of the floor lamp beside the bed, crawling under the covers and curling into your corner of the bed, continuing to read your book.

It's a couple hours before Thomas comes up, the sun just starting to set as he makes his way in.

You look up from your book, seeing he's already taken the liberty to change into his pajamas.

"Hi." You watch as he sits on the bed, taking notice of the new sheets, "I hope you don't mind, I found them in the closet."

He shakes his head, rubbing his hand over the cotton fabric before climbing under the covers nexts to you.

He looks over, seeing you have the same, old book sitting open in your lap, your hand resting on one of the pages to hold your place.

He reaches over, tapping against the side with a questioning look.

"My book?" You ask, blinking a couple of times before closing it and handing it over to him, "Go ahead, I've read it a million times."

He hesitates, carefully looking over the faded cover, running his calloused fingers over the worn spine in such a gentle manner you'd think he was handling something meaningful.

You rest your head on your knees, watching as he nervously opens the book with the same cautiousness one might treat a wild animal.

His eyebrows furrow as starts to read, finger slowly running under each word slowly and carefully, and you can see the confusion in his brown eyes as he struggles.

You watch him try and reread the same sentence three times before reaching a hand out, gently resting on his wrist, "...Are you having trouble reading?"

He sighs, setting the book down with a shameful nod, too embarrassed to meet your gaze.

"Hey, that's okay. A lot of people can't read all that well, no worries," You carefully pull the book from his grasp, moving closer to his side, "Here, I'll read it to you."

He's caught off guard by your sudden offer, but makes no move to stop you.

You open the book, setting it down so half rests on his leg and the other on yours, your finger tracing under the words as you begin to read.

His eyes follow along carefully, sometimes stopping you to tap at a word when he doesn't know it's meaning, your voice calming as he listens carefully.

By the end of the first chapter, he's relaxed against your side, head resting on your shoulder as you read each word carefully, doing your best to bring the story to life.

You're not sure how long the two of you stay awake, reading the book with the company of the crickets and the moonlight, but the silence of the first floor slowly creeping through the floorboards tells you everyone has gone to bed, and the height of the moon warns you the late hours will soon become early.

You fail to hold back another yawn, blinking wearily as you continue reading, the words beginning to blend together on the worn pages.

You don't particulary remember falling asleep, but the next thing you're consiously aware of is the soft light of the rising sun peaking through the window.

You can feel the bed shift as you groan, curling in on yourself and burying yourself deeper into the warmth of the bed, not ready to face the world quite yet.

You feel yourself begin to drift this time, your mind swirling with the chaotic nonsense of a half-asleep brain trying to dream.

The images dart around, blurry and fast as you try to balance yourself in an unreal situation.

It's dizzying, the heat of your lungs burning a hole through your chest, choking on the air you needed to breathe.

The humidity cages you in, the space around you closing in, your own skin too tight against your body as all too familiar, blood curdling screams swallow any sense of sanity you're supposed to have.

“No, no, please, let us go!”

“God, why me? Why us, God, why–”

“Please, please, let me go, please-”

The bed is hot when you wake, choking on your own air as you sit up, covering your mouth to quiet your coughs.

Your eyes are wide as you stare ahead, keeping your mouth covered through the deep breaths you're taking.

A buzz rests deep in your bones, your mind vibrating with a dissociative tune, and it takes you a few minutes to remember you're actually real.

You let out a shaky sigh, rubbing your face as you regain control of yourself, the nightmare already mostly forgotten as your mind continues waking up.

The sun rests high in the sky, beating down on you through the dusty glass of the window, letting the feeling of the suffocating heat sting your skin.

You take another deep breath, finally registering the sound of voices carrying through the house as you let your head hang in your hands.

The faint smell of an already cooked breakfast tells you it's still morning, but the height of the sun gives way that it's later, perhaps almost noon.

You crawl to the edge of the bed, taking a seat as the hazy fog in your mind begins to clear.

Hoyt's voice still carries through the house, telling you that you'd be stuck in the bedroom for a while longer.

It's strange, hiding from a man in his own home, but Thomas keeps you hidden from him for a reason, and that's enough to keep your footsteps quiet as you stand to make the bed, the shake in your limbs slowly fading away as the panic subsides.

You're not sure if it's the remanents of the forgotten nightmare or the anxiety of being almost trapped in this home, but you can't seem to stop your mind from running wild as you pull the blanket back.

What happens when Hoyt finds out?

That question leads nothing but more anxiety and contemplation, making your head spin.

How long do you plan to stay here? How long do they plan to let you? How long do you have before you're thrown back out to the streets with nothing more than a bag of dirty clothes and an old book to your name?

Your head begins pounding with the migraine you're giving yourself as you pull the sheet taunt against the bed you've slept in for the last two nights.

You swallow, mind drifting back to the first night you stayed here.

"S-T-A-Y."

The memory of Thomas' words tingle against your palm, and it presents you with a new question.

Would they ever let you leave?

#first meeting #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x s/o #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher x s/o

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nocturnest · 24 days

Note

Heya sweets❤️

Im always so shy when asking for request 👉🏻👈🏻

I have this story in my head where the reader is Tangerines and Lemons Handler. Lemon adores reader. She does everything for them. Always fun and making jokes. Tangerine and reader have a little hate/banter relationship, but both have unresolved feelings for eachother.

And after one near death assignment, reader has to bring out her nursing skills. Stop the bleeding, stitching them back up etc. But reader is so frustrated with the both of them especially Tan. Because she cares for them and obviously loves Tan. And by almost loosing Tangerine brakes her composure and all her feelings come out.

Maybe fluff, maybe some nsfw?

Do with this whatever you like☺️

Have a wonderful day 🥰🫶🏻

hello my lovely friend! so sorry this took a while but i wanted to make sure i did it right! what a wonderful prompt - i love this idea! please enjoy and feel free to continue sending requests! 🥰

You loved the boys - you really did. In fact, it was hard to imagine a time when they hadn't been a part of your life, a constant presence that grounded you and brought both joy and exasperation in equal measure.

For five years now, you had been their handler, guiding them through missions, patching them up when they were injured, and providing a steady anchor amidst the chaos that seemed to follow them wherever they went. What had once been a professional relationship had slowly evolved into something far deeper - and when it came to a certain British fruit with a mustache, you found yourself unable to stay away.

You liked Lemon for his eccentricities and knack for always being able to sense people's intentions. It was remarkable how spot-on he could be on missions. You suppose you could thank his obsession with Thomas the Tank Engine for that...

Lemon, with his eccentricities and uncanny ability to read people's intentions, was a constant source of amusement and admiration. You marveled at how spot-on he could be during missions, his insights often proving invaluable – a skill you jokingly attributed to his obsession with Thomas the Tank Engine.

Just the other day you had happily entertained one of Lemon's rants about Thomas and Friends over earpiece for a good fifteen minutes just to see how long it would take for Tangerine to lose it. And he did as soon as you and Lemon started having a serious debate about whether or not Tangerine was a Gordon, to which Tangerine did not take kindly to. He insisted he was not anything near close to "that arrogant bastard of a train."

You could hear the utter frustration and offense in his voice, his mutterings of various curses, and you imagined how he must have looked all riled up - to the point that all you wanted was to see his face at that very moment.

Lemon was so honestly sweet - always playful. He always asked you about your day and remembered the smallest things about you. He also knew exactly what to do to push Tangerine's buttons, which you couldn't help but find amusing. Beneath his quirks was a true heart of gold, for he never failed to coax a smile out of you, no matter how bleak the circumstance.

And Tangerine - well, he was Tangerine. He was complicated, to say the least, and you couldn't imagine him as being anything else. Since the beginning, there had been this tension between the two of you - at first, the two of you were at each other's throats - swapping insults and cursing at one other. Lemon may have had to intervene on more than one occasion to get the two of you to snap out of it.

Something, changed though - not significantly but enough for you to notice. You suspect it had something to do with a very long-ass conversation Lemon had with Tangerine after a taxing mission that nearly cost them their lives. When you had picked the both of them up, Tangerine and Lemon had their raincoats covered in blood. For someone who was so vocal, so uptight, Tangerine was positively silent after that mission. He didn't insult you back and barely responded with anything other than one-word utterances - it was unnerving, concerning even.

You didn't like it. You didn't like seeing Tangerine so solemn, so hopeless. You were driving the car in utter silence and at some point Lemon had fallen asleep, or so you thought... Tangerine was in the passenger's seat beside you with a blank stare - he wasn't even looking out the window. No, he just looked straight on at the empty road ahead.

He had a cut on his forehead and a split lip, dried blood stains running down the side of his face. Without looking down, he was taking his golden knuckle-dusters on and off. You had half of a mind to reach out and steady his trembling hands as you were driving, but you were afraid perhaps of how he might react. And yet, despite all of this, you thought he looked as beautiful as you had ever seen him.

You called his name, cautiously and quietly. He didn't respond. You tried once more and he didn't give any impression that he had heard you. You had to do something. Anything to get him out of this stupor. So, maybe when you thought Lemon wasn't listening and had fallen asleep in the back of the car, you had started going off on some tangent about having finally read some of the novels Tangerine kept on going on and on about.

You mentioned his favorites: Wuthering Heights, The Stranger, Fahrenheit 451... Because if there was anything you knew about Tangerine, it's that he was passionate about classics to the point that he even quoted and analyzed fucking Dostoveksy in the middle of a kill on multiple occasions. Maybe the fact that you and him were both quite the book nerds actually made him all the more attractive to you.

As you continued to ramble about the novels you had read that Tangerine was so passionate about, the air in the car grew thick with tension, the silence punctuated only by the steady hum of the engine.

You didn't dare look at him - part of you didn't really expect him to listen. So instead, you kept your gaze focused on the empty road ahead, hands gripping the steering wheel as you spoke.

"I finally got around to reading 'Fahrenheit 451, you know," you began, your voice soft and measured. "I have to say, I can see why you're so taken with it. It's simply written yet so applicable to modern society and the dangers of censorship. It truly makes one think about what it would mean to live in a world without literature."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tangerine's head turn ever so slightly in your direction, his brow furrowed as if he were trying to process your words.

Emboldened by this flicker of response, you continued. "And I hadn't read The Stranger in a good while but it resonated with me particularly deeply this second time, Camus' exploration of existentialism and the human condition...I was drawn into Meursault's detached perspective, his ability to confront the harsh realities of life with such unflinching clarity."

A soft exhale, barely audible, escaped Tangerine's lips, and you felt your heart quicken its pace. You were reaching him, slowly but surely, pulling him back from the depths of whatever darkness had consumed him.

"But I think my favorite, at least so far, has to be Wuthering Heights," you continued, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"The way Brontë captures the rawness of human emotion, the intensity of love and loss – it's truly remarkable. And the relationship between Cathy and Heathcliff - it's passionate," you said, your voice trailing off as you hesitated, the words catching in your throat. You could feel Tangerine's gaze on you, intense and searching, waiting for you to continue.

"Cathy and Heathcliff," you began again, your voice soft and contemplative. "They're... they're bound together by something... something powerful and all-consuming. Their love is - it's turbulent, chaotic, but it's also - undeniable."

This time, Tangerine's reaction was unmistakable. He turned his head fully towards you, his eyes seeking out yours, and in that moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. His eyes were filled with an indescribable emotion and his whole focus was on you. You met his eyes only to avoid them.

"You read them," he murmured, his voice rough and laced with a hint of disbelief.

You nodded, finally allowing yourself to meet his gaze. "Of course I did," you replied, your tone gentle. "They're important to you, and I wanted to understand why."

Tangerine's eyes remained locked with yours, his gaze penetrating and unreadable. For a moment, he simply stared, seemingly struggling with the words that threatened to spill forth.

Finally, he spoke, Tangerine's tone measured but with the barest hint of softness bleeding through. "I didn't think you'd actually read them," he admitted, a crease forming between his brows. "Those books...they're important to me. More than just words on a page."

Tangerine turned away, his eyes focusing on some distant point beyond the windshield. You could see the muscle in his jaw tighten as he clenched his teeth. "I'm surprised you understood them so well," he murmured, the words seeming almost painful for him to voice.

There was a brief silence before Tangerine continued. "I've always had...difficulty...letting people in. Connecting on that deeper level." His fingers drummed against the door restlessly. "But you - you saw right through to the heart of those stories. You truly understood it."

Another pause, this one longer, more weighted. When Tangerine finally spoke again, his words were clipped, guarded - as if he were struggling to maintain that protective wall he'd carefully constructed around himself.

"Don't read too much into it though," he muttered gruffly, shifting in his seat. "They're just books in the end. It doesn't mean anything."

But his eyes told a different story as they flickered back towards you, full of unspoken longing and vulnerability he was so desperately trying to conceal. Your fingers on the steering wheel twitched, practically begging to reach to him, to take his hands in yours, to tell him that you understood. That he didn't have to keep up this facade around you.

For a fleeting second, you saw a glimpse of the real Tangerine - the one who lived and breathed those books, whose soul resonated with the turbulent depths of Heathcliff and Cathy's obsessive love. The one who felt everything so intensely that he was forced to cage those emotions, to push others away for fear of being consumed.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. Tangerine straightened, clearing his throat roughly as he turned his attention back towards the empty road ahead. His walls were firmly back in place, that flash of vulnerability carefully tucked away.

"Just drive, Peach," he muttered, his voice now flat and devoid of any trace of the rawness you had witnessed mere seconds ago. "We've got a long way to go still."

After that incident, you and him went back to quarreling as usual though it was less heated, more like playful teasing. And you could have sworn Tangerine had started looking at you differently. Sometimes you'd find him gazing at you for a few seconds too long and when you gave him a questioning look back, he avoided your eyes.

Maybe - just maybe - you weren't so immune to giving into the tension between the two of you either. When you tended to the cuts and bruises he accumulated during missions, your touches perhaps lingered a beat too long, savoring the warmth of his skin and the subtle catch of his breath.

And Tangerine, for all his gruffness, could not entirely mask the softening of his features when your gazes met and held for those endless seconds. The pink dusting his sharp cheekbones whenever you aimed a teasing barb his way hinted at vulnerabilities he struggled to conceal behind his prickly exterior.

The friction between the two of you had become undeniable. Every snide remark, every heated debate about classical literature, seemed laced with unresolved tensions that threatened to combust at any moment.

Perhaps it was reckless to allow these flames to be stoked, you mused as you studied Tangerine's profile while he bent over the mission briefing. But there was a thrill in dancing along the precipice, in pushing the limits of how far you could go before that line was finally crossed.

Lemon's knowing glances whenever he sensed the charged atmosphere only fanned the flames further. That grin curving his lips made it clear he found humor in bearing witness to the escalating heat between his two companions. If anyone recognized the forbidden yearnings you each harbored, it was him. And was eager, practically praying for the two of you to get your heads out of your asses and realize your feelings for one another. And that time would come.

The mission had gone sideways in the blink of an eye. One minute they were making their way through the compound, and the next, a hail of gunfire erupted from all angles.

Your heart stopped when the frantic voice crackled over the comms. "Fucking hell - Peach! Tangerine's been hit and he's losing blood!"

Lemon's panicked tones sent ice flooding your veins. You scrambled for the extraction vehicle, hands shaking as you attempted to program the coordinates for the rendezvous point. Bile rose in your throat at the thought of losing him...of losing Tangerine.

What felt like an eternity later, the doors burst open and Lemon staggered inside, half-carrying, half-dragging Tangerine's bloodied form. Your breath caught in your lungs at the sight - his pallid face, the crimson blossoming across his abdomen, soaking through the field dressings haphazardly applied.

"Oh god-" A garbled cry tore from your lips as you rushed forward, hands already working to strip away his tac gear.

Lemon made his way to the front of the vehicle as you were opening every med kit the back of the van contained for gauze and something to stop the blood. Lemon drove anxiously and way over the speed limit.

"Rheneas...you have to be Rheneas," he yelled, the words jumbled as he fought to remain calm. "Brave and resourceful, just like you. You can do this!"

You barely registered his nonsensical Thomas rambling as you focused on staunching the steady flow of blood. Observing the wound critically, you noticed that the bullet had gone straight through but shrapnel had been left behind. You had to start moving before Tangerine bled the fuck out.

Deep breaths, Peach.

“Tangerine,” you murmured, a quiver in your voice. He groaned in response but it seemed as though he was going in and out of consciousness. No. He would not die today.

You tried again, your voice more urgent, desperate, “Tangerine!”

Tangerine's harsh, wet breaths cut through the tense silence, each one a fight for life. His eyes fluttered open, fever-bright and struggling to focus on your face hovering above.

“I have to remove the shrapnel before I can stitch you up, alright? I need you to be strong for me.”

Your hand found Tangerine's, giving his calloused fingers a reassuring squeeze as you met his fever-glazed eyes. "I'm here, Tangerine. Just focus on me, okay?"

He managed the barest dip of his chin in acknowledgment, jaw locked tight against the waves of agony rippling through his battered frame. Steeling yourself, you grasped the forceps with a steadiness that belied the frantic gallop of your pulse.

"Deep breaths," you murmured, the desperation yet softness in your voice slipping out unbidden as your focus narrowed to a laser point.

With deft precision, you delved into the ragged bullet wound, probing for the fragmented pieces of shrapnel lodged amid the tattered flesh. A guttural groan tore from Tangerine's clenched teeth as you worked, his grip on your hand verging on crushing.

"That's it, just hold onto me," you coached, willing every ounce of strength into the man beneath your hands. "You're doing so well, Tangerine. I'm right here."

Tangerine's panting breaths had grown shallow and rapid, his eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of agony. You watched in rapt focus as a sheen of sweat bloomed across his brow, dampening the tawny strands that stuck in matted clumps to his ashen skin.

Then, with a final twist of the forceps, you carefully pulled free the last insidious fragment. Tangerine arched from the floor, a hoarse bellow tearing from his very core as he rode out the finality of the searing torment.

"Fuckin' hell!"

His hand clenched around yours with crushing force, fingertips digging desperately into your flesh as if you were his only tether in that moment of anguish.

"I've got you, I've got you," you found yourself chanting over the litany of his ragged gasps and Lemon's frantic reassurances over the comms. "You're okay, Tangerine. You're going to be okay."

At last, the tension bled from his corded frame as his body slumped back in total, wrecked exhaustion. His eyes slitted open, still burning with fever but now hazy with shock and blood loss. Tangerine's chapped lips parted soundlessly as his gaze found and locked onto yours with lazer-focus.

For an endless heartbeat, he simply held your stare, a thousand unspoken sentiments and emotions bleeding across the jagged planes of his face.

"Peach..."

The solitary word was little more than a broken rasp, rough and guttural. Yet it contained so much meaning - apologies and promises were woven into that single syllable that hung in the air between you.

Then Tangerine's eyes slipped shut once more as he surrendered at last to oblivion, his hand falling limp yet warm in your grasp. You stared at his deathly still features unblinking, his name echoing like a sacred prayer in your thundering pulse.

"Hang on, Tangerine," you pleaded, voice cracking as you rapidly worked the needle and thread through the ragged wound. "Please - please don't leave me."

Fumbling with the med kit, you quickly threaded a curved needle, hands surprisingly steady despite your inner turmoil. At the front of the vehicle, Lemon continued his soothing chants, something about diesel engines and Sir Topham Hatt, but the words were white noise in your ears. All that mattered was the fragile thread of life you fought so valiantly to preserve through each meticulous stitch. At last, the final knot was tied off and you sagged with sheer physical and emotional exhaustion.

Only then did your own harsh sobs spill forth, harsh and visceral. Burying your face in Tangerine's sweat-damp hair, you clung to him with everything you had, chest heaving with the force of your cries. Tears traced rivers down your cheeks, baptizing his skin with your anguished relief that he yet lived.

At some point Lemon appeared beside you, the door to the van wide open. His soothing hand smoothed circles across your shuddering back as you rode out the storm of emotion. His voice a soft murmur, words of solace about how you were Sir Handel, the reliable, brave-hearted one.

Somehow, Lemon had managed to coax you into helping him carry Tangerine into the safe house. How - you weren't sure because you were in quite a state. And despite Lemon's insistence upon you getting some rest, you swore that you wouldn't leave Tangerine's bedside until he woke up - at which Lemon gave a knowing glance.

At some point, utterly drained, you must have slipped into an exhausted slumber slumped at Tangerine's side. Because the next thing you were aware of was his calloused fingers brushing feather-light against your damp cheek.

You blinked awake groggily to find Tangerine's intense gaze drinking you in as if you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen. His split lips curved in the barest hint of a smile - tired yet impossibly tender.

And that was when the floodgates broke anew. With a harsh sob, you flung yourself against him, face buried in the solid warmth of his neck as you clung with fierce desperation. He was alive - he was alive and with you still.

Tangerine's strong arms enveloped you, holding you impossibly close as his injured body would allow. His lips brushed your hairline in a whisper of a kiss.

"I'm here, love," he rasped, the endearment somehow freighted with a thousand unspoken vows and emotions. "I'm right here. I won't leave you."

Tangerine cradled you against his chest, his fingers tenderly stroking the tear-streaked paths along your cheeks. Each brush of his fingertips was a reassuring caress, a silent vow that he was truly there - battered yet blessedly alive.

"Shh, it's alright now," he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion but impossibly gentle. "I've got ya."

You nodded tremulously against the solid warmth of his neck, inhaling the achingly familiar scent of gunpowder and sandalwood that was distinctly him. Tangerine's arms tightened fractionally, and you melted deeper into his embrace, drawing solace from the steady thrum of his heart against your cheek.

For a while, the rest of the world seemed to fade away until there was nothing but the rise and fall of his breaths, the reassuring metronome of life woven between your entangled forms.

When at last you drew back enough to meet his gaze, the corners of Tangerine's eyes had softened with an emotion you realized now you'd seen flickering there for longer than you cared to admit - a profound depth of feeling he'd never allowed himself to truly acknowledge until this moment.

His thumb traced the delicate curve of your lower lip with a touch so reverent it stole the very breath from your lungs. "You're something else, ya know that?" The words were little more than a hoarse rasp but held a world of unspoken meaning.

Unable to find your own voice past the tidal wave of emotion surging within, you simply leaned into his touch. This earned you the ghost of a smile, more felt than seen, as Tangerine's fingers slipped into the strands at your nape to cup your head with achingly tender possession.

Then, with agonizing slowness, he drew you towards him until your foreheads rested flush, sharing the same tremulous breaths in the scant space between your parted lips. His eyes slipped closed, seemingly savoring this suspended intimacy in which all masks had fallen away, leaving only the exquisite vulnerability of surrender.

"Tangerine..." you breathed his name like a prayer, pouring every ounce of yearning and relief into that solitary utterance.

His lashes fluttered open at the sound, eyes blazing with an intensity that seared straight through to your soul. Then, with the barest tilt of his head, Tangerine closed that last distance and sealed his mouth over yours in a kiss softer than down yet more searing than any brand.

The world around you seemed to come to a halt as you surrendered to the achingly sweet brush of his lips, to the unbearable tenderness of hands cradling you as if you were the most precious thing on Earth. This was a kiss transcending mere physical desire - it was an awakening, a benediction, a binding of your very essence in that single searing moment of connection.

When at last you parted, foreheads still pressed together, Tangerine's fingers traced idle patterns along the pulse point beneath your jaw in silent worship. His eyes shone with naked vulnerability and something deeper, more profound - the promise of an emotion that would be reckless for either of you to put a name to...not just yet.

But in that moment, no words were necessary. The simmering glances, the heated banter, the pushing of boundaries over the years...it had all led you both inexorably to this point of transcendence.

Lemon's soft chuckle from across the van was enough to shatter the spell momentarily. Catching your eye, he offered a warm, knowing smile - the expression of someone bearing witness to the inevitability that had been unfolding between you and Tangerine from that very first moment of friction.

"Took you two long enough," was all he said, but you heard the oceans of meaning in his affectionate tone.

You laughed wetly in response, reaching out a hand in a silent gesture of inclusion that had Lemon rising to join you both without hesitation. He sat beside you both, grinning as you rolled your eyes at him. Resting your head against Tangerine's shoulder, you allowed your eyes to drift closed in solemn contentment.

Lemon speaks up, a thoughtful expression upon his face, "You know I still think Tangerine's a Gordon - bossy and stubborn..."

Tangerine scowls at that, "I'll have ya know that I am nothing like that fucking cunt-"

"No - I think you are," you begin, smiling cheekily, and Tangerine looks at you, tired to be sure, but with narrowed eyes and slight amusement.

Tangerine opened his mouth, no doubt to protest your cheeky comparison, but you laid a finger across his lips, effectively silencing him.

"Just listen," you murmured, eyes sparkling with impish mirth. "Gordon may be pompous at times, but he's also powerful, regal, depended on by everyone on Sodor."

Sliding your hand to tenderly cup Tangerine's jaw, you held his inscrutable gaze as you continued. "You're our Gordon, Tangerine. Gruff and uncompromising on the outside, but with a core of integrity and fortitude that keeps us all pushing forward, no matter what."

Lemon nodded sagely beside you. "She's right, you know. Why d'you think I give you such a hard time?" He flashed that mischievous grin. "Got to keep that ego of yours in check."

Tangerine scoffed, but you caught the barely perceptible crinkling at the corners of his eyes - the ghost of a smile he couldn't quite suppress. Leaning in, you brushed the faintest whisper of a kiss across the corner of his mouth, savoring the rough rasp of his mustache.

"Don't worry, Mr. Gordon," you teased lowly. "We all know there's a big softy beneath that gruff exterior."

A low rumbling sound akin to a contented purr vibrated from deep within Tangerine's chest as he nuzzled his nose against your temple. "Keep that cheek up and you'll see just how soft I can be, darlin'."

The heated undertone in his gravelly timbre raised a delicious frisson along your skin. You bit your lip, holding back a breathless giggle at his not-so-thinly veiled innuendo.

"Well now, I do believe that's my cue to make myself scarce," Lemon piped up, winking broadly as he levered himself up with a dramatic groan. "You two kids have fun. But not too much fun - we've got that briefing at 19:00 sharp."

His departure was punctuated by a rude hand gesture from Tangerine, which only made Lemon's wheezing laughter echo more loudly. You watched him go with a fond shake of your head, savoring the warmth and levity he'd brought to the tender moment.

Then you turned your full attention back to Tangerine, trailing light fingertips along the stark lines and cuts that mapped his beloved face. His gaze caught and held yours, open and vulnerable in a way you'd never seen before - the mask utterly discarded.

"So...Mr. Gordon," you murmured, lips curving. "What shall we do while we've got some privacy?"

Tangerine's hand caressed your jaw, slowly bringing your foreheads together with unexpected gentleness. When at last he spoke, his deep baritone caressed your very soul.

"How about you tell me another story about your favorite trains? I could use a refresher on just why Gordon's supposed to be so bloody remarkable."

You laughed then, bright and unfettered, at the unexpected softness cloaking his rough-hewn edges. Throwing your arms around him, you held on tightly, your face in his neck, all awash with a sense of rightness and belonging that you'd struggled to find for far too long.

@kpopgirlbtssvt @little-miss-dilf-lover @sebsbarnes @kiss-me-cill-me @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @spookyspecterino @liukangsgirl @azureseacloud @pretty-little-mind33 i really hope you guys enjoy!

#bullet train #tangerine #bullet train movie #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine fanfiction #lemon bullet train #tangerine imagine #x reader #reader insert #tangerine fic #tangerine x you #tangerine fluff

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fandom-chic · 11 months

Text

Please Please Please: Chapter 3

Summary: Y/N is only a child when she and Tommy Shelby meet. The two quickly become best friends as they grow up in Small Heath. As the years go by, Y/N and Tommy realize there may be more to their friendship than they originally thought.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N

Previous chapter

Year: 1913

She spun around slowly, observing how the dress fell on her frame. It had belonged to her mother, and she couldn't help but feel it suited her mother better than herself. Nevertheless, it would have to suffice. Tonight, she was meeting James, and she wanted to appear nothing short of beautiful. They had been seeing each other for almost nine months, and although it felt like an eternity to her youthful mind, she knew that everything was still fresh and new. At this point in the relationship, she believed that external beauty held great importance.

James was a good man. Shit, that was an understatement to say the least. His family came from old money. It was the kind of wealth she dreamt about. Wealth that her family had never known and might never know. He didn’t keep it a secret either. On their first date, he had taken her to the nicest restaurant she had ever stepped into. All she ordered was soup and water, worried that she would come off as a mooch. James had chuckled and ordered her a glass of wine, reassuring her not to worry about the bill. But she worried.

James was also training to be a solicitor. That was a job that had lots of prospects and a steady future. It was the kind of job a husband would have. It would allow him to make a decent living while also being able to come home to his family every night. It would also not leave him with anyone's blood on his hands, at least in the physical sense. Y/N ran her comb through her locks, contemplating her reflection.

It wasn’t a secret to her that a proposal was on the horizon. She had noticed the way her mother tossed her old dress at her and gave her an excited smile. Something was coming. It also didn’t hurt that she overheard her mother and father discussing the topic.

Y/N had stumbled out of bed early last Saturday. On her way to grab a coffee, she heard whispers coming from the kitchen. She quietly made her way over before stopping to hear what her parents were saying.

“That James fellow seems quite nice,” Mother had exclaimed enthusiastically.

“Yes he does,” Father replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Definitely would make a fine addition to this family,” her mother added, a smile evident in her voice.

“I would say so,” Y/N could hear the monotony in her father’s voice. Her mother seemed to notice it too.

“Would you?” Mother asked.

“I would,” Father said, there was defiance in his voice.

“You sure don’t sound like it,” Mother said, a sharp tip to her tone.

“I just,” there was hesitation in Father’s voice, “I just always imagined a different path for Y/N.” Mother snorted at that.

“What path is better than one with a solicitor from a wealthy family?” Y/N didn’t want to know the answer to that, and entered the kitchen at that moment. Both of her parents turned toward her, uneasiness plastered across their faces as they wondered what she heard. All she did was smile and say good morning, feigning ignorance. Her parents knew she heard but if they all pretended, maybe they could truly pretend it wasn’t reality.

Y/N picks up her lipstick, tracing the red along her lips. It was her favorite shade. She remembered the first day she put it on. She was sixteen and experimenting with makeup. When she stepped out of her house to see Tommy, she couldn’t forget his grin.

“Now that’s the classiest whore in all of Small Heath.” he had said, raising his eyebrows playfully.

“That better be a joke Thomas Shelby!” she warned.

“I thought you knew me better than that, Y/N,” he said, with a wink, “You look beautiful.” A hint of electricity flies erupts in her stomach.

“You think so?” She had a tough time looking up at him at that moment.

“Of course,” At that, he held his arm out for her. She laced her arm in his and they went off.

“Fuck,” Y/N muttered to herself, seeing that in her moment of distraction, her lipstick had not decided to stay in the outline of her lips. Fucking Tommy, even absent, he ruined everything. He never showed up after their fight and she has not seen him around Small Heath. It was as if he had dropped off the face of the earth. But he hadn’t. He just didn’t want to see her. At that, a knock echoed on her door.

Her father poked his head in. "James is here," he informed her. Y/N nodded, quickly grabbing a tissue to wipe away the smudge.

“Okay," she replied, sensing her father's lingering presence. She glanced back at him. "I'll be out in a few." He nodded, observing his daughter with an uneasy expression. "You know," he spoke up, entering the room, "you don't have to go if you don't want to." Y/N furrowed her eyebrows.

"Why wouldn't I want to go?" she asked. Her father sighed, closing the door behind him.

"You're my daughter, Y/N, and I can tell when something makes you happy and when it doesn't," he explained, sitting on her bed. "I can also see when you're doing something just to please your mother and me." Y/N turned to face her father, crossing her arms in front of her.

"James makes me happy, and I'm not doing this for you or Mum. If you have something else to say, say it, or you can leave," she asserted. Her father sighed but remained seated on the bed.

“I haven’t seen Tommy around here in a while.” her father stated. Y/N knew this conversation was coming.

"I don't want to talk about Tommy right now, Dad," she pleaded.

“And why is that?” he interjected.

“Because," she averted her gaze, "he hasn't made any effort to reach out to me, and I don't want to be the only one trying anymore. He's draining, and I can't bear his chaos any longer." Her father nodded, absorbing her words.

“I understand,” He puts his hands on his knees, ready to get up, “Have a fun night with James,” At that, he exited the room, leaving the door open for Y/N to follow. She did so and found James waiting in the doorway, a smile adorning his face.

“You look beautiful,” he complimented as she walked toward him.

“Thank you,” she said, as he offered her his arm.

He turned toward her father, “I’ll have her back by 10 PM.” Her father nodded, giving the couple a wave before they left. As the door closed behind them, she was greeted by the sight of something she had never seen before, an automobile. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight.

“My father purchased it for me last week and I thought I would take the loveliest girl in Small Heath for a ride.” James said, looking down at her. Y/N could not look him in the eye yet, wanting to take in as much of the car as she could. She had never seen one this close to her. It truly was the pinnacle of the high life.

“It’s amazing.” she whispered, almost in disbelief.

“Indeed," James agreed, opening the passenger door for her. She cautiously climbed in, afraid of breaking something. James took his seat beside her on the driver's side, and the car roared to life, eliciting a gasp from Y/N. Then they were off. Y/N watched as the world outside the window zoomed past her. Small Heath had never seemed this enchanting before. Perhaps her father's stories held some truth.

“Wow,” she breathed. It wasn’t until she heard James clear his throat that she realized he had asked her a question. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I was asking how your teaching courses were coming along.” James inquired.

“Oh, they’re going very well. Only a few months left before I am done.” Y/N answered, a proud smile dawning her face.

“Very nice, very nice.” He muttered to himself as they drove down the street.

“And you,” she began, “how are your courses this semester?”

“Good.” he replied, refocusing his attention on the road. Y/N looked at James, expecting more words to follow that, but none came. From what Y/N had heard around Small Heath, law school was a grueling but fascinating time. But that did not seem to be the case for James.

“I can only imagine.” Was the only phrase she could think to answer with.

“And a pretty imagination you have.” James responded as the couple pulled up to the restaurant. The words caused a pit to form in her stomach. Pretty imagination. What did that even mean? She stared into the windshield, curious about those words as James opened up her door. His hand gestured to the restaurant. “After you.” She gave him a curt nod as he assisted her out of the vehicle. She followed him in. The host gave them a smile as he brought them to their table.

“What do you think you will order tonight?” James asked, looking over his menu. Y/N hadn’t looked at the menu yet as she watched the people of Small Heath wander. James gave a small snicker, tapping her hand. She jumped. “My dear, you have to at least look at the menu.” That same empty feeling washed over her.

“I will, just taking in the view.” she said, looking away from the window. Her eyes skimmed over the menu, not particularly focusing on any meal in particular. It was then she heard a voice she could recognize anywhere. She didn’t have to look up to know Tommy was in the same room as her. She couldn’t help herself from looking toward the door to catch a glimpse of him. To her surprise, he wasn’t alone. The most recent woman to have won Tommy’s heart had accompanied him. Her name was Greta and that was all she knew. Y/N’s gaze lingered as the couple began to move in her direction. It was when Tommy was sitting at the table directly in front of theirs did he notice her. He quickly shifted his gaze away, but hers remained on him. She couldn’t bear to look away, for all she knew, he could disappear again.

“You know,” Y/N began, putting her menu down, “I heard that Oxford has one of the most prestigious law schools in the world, isn’t that true, James?” Her voice was pitched a bit louder than usual, she knew that.

James gazed up from her menu, “Oh yes, it is quite the institution.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your studies.” she said, letting her eyes move back to Tommy. This time, his eyes were locked on hers. James had begun to discuss his torts class, but Y/N could not decipher one word he was saying. All she could do was watch Tommy’s reaction, or lack of one.

“James, why did you pick the career path of a solicitor?” Y/N asked, “Is it because you enjoy helping people? Or because you like to see the world become more just?” James smiled at her question as he continued on about the world of law. This time, a reaction came out of Tommy. Disdain. His eyes narrowed as James passionately discussed his ambitions and dreams within law school. It was then that a bottle of chardonnay was brought to the table. She quickly took a large gulp, letting the warm feeling of alcohol run through her. She swallowed the rest of her drink before pouring herself a new one.

“And, James, wouldn’t you say that your family is very well respected? Definitely, not the kind to bring a weapon to a meal, correct?” This caused James to cock an eyebrow.

“Um, well, that is quite the question-”

“I just want to know that the man I associate myself with is an honorable one.” It was then she noticed Tommy excuse himself from his table and approached her. He stopped right beside her, leaning down so his mouth was right next to her ear.

“Outside, now.” And he proceeded outside.

“If you’ll excuse me.” Y/N said. James gave a nod before she got up and followed Tommy. As the door shut behind her, she looked to see Tommy lighting a cigarette, his body languid against the stone wall of the restaurant. His gaze drifted over to her and his eyes narrowed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

“What’s wrong with me?” she gestured towards herself, taking quick strides toward her friend, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Why would there be anything wrong with me?” He took the cigarette out of his mouth, “I’m not the one causing a scene.” The nonchalance in his voice stabbed her, causing a part of her to break.

“How was any of that a scene? I was just having a conversation with my boyfriend.” Tommy snorted at that.

“A conversation? That’s not what I would’ve called it.” Tommy said, taking another drag. Y/N opened her mouth, trying to will a retort. Anything to match up to him. But all that could come out was silence. Tommy stubbed out his cigarette against the brick wall behind him. “Now if you would excuse me, I have a date to get back to.”

“Why didn’t you come back?” The words came out as a whisper. As they escaped her lips, she felt a tear come into her eye. Tommy took a breath, his hands falling into his pockets.

“You know why, Y/N,” he responded.

“No Tommy,” she said, shaking her head, “I do not, please tell me.” Her plea hung in the air. Finally, Tommy met her gaze again, and she saw a flicker of emotion pass across his face. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

“That day at the lake made me realize, we are two extremely different people. You want the solicitor husband, the beautiful house and the two kids raised by the nanny. You want to come home and relax on your day bed while your maid brings you your meals. If you stay close to me, that is not the life you will have. All those dreams will never come. Our friendship just doesn’t make sense anymore, Y/N and you know that.” Tommy said, finally moving away from her.

“Do you really feel that way?” she whispered. Tommy stared directly ahead before he gave a slight nod. Her stomach dropped to her feet as she began to come to accept a new reality, Tommy was gone.

“Tommy,” Everything in her wanted him to face her, but he stayed staring straight ahead “I miss you so much.”

“I know.” Was all he said, before putting his head down and walking back inside. She was alone. She let her body collapse against the brick wall as the real sobs began to erupt from her. It was then she heard footsteps begin to approach her. Her gaze snapped back to the door Tommy just walked through but all she saw was James.

“I think it may be time to go home.” James said as Y/N nodded. His hand touched the small of her back, leading her to where the car was parked. Y/N gave one final look to the window where Tommy had just seated himself again. She could’ve sworn he was staring right back at her.

Next chapter

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